Zala stopped talking while pictures captured by the lab’s cameras flashed onto the screen, showing Chelsa, Troop and Kristi.
“Help keep the United Regions safe by reporting any sightings or tips of these fugitives. Citizens aiding the Homeland Security protect the United Regions from these terrorists will be handsomely rewarded.” Zala gave a brisk nod to show she was done speaking and the camera panned back to Debbie.
“So, fellow citizens, keep your eyes and ears open and report any suspicious activity or persons to the Homeland Security. You can contact your local security branch by dialing 1600 plus your area code,” said Debbie. “That’s all there is for now. Until next time, folks.”
A commercial for the latest electro-slate began to play and Chelsa clicked her electro-slate off.
“Door-to-door search?” Finn said. He snitched his crutches off the couch and swung over to a window and peered out, like he was looking to see if he could spot the officers making their way down the street.
“Is there a place where we can stay until the search blows over?” Troop asked.
“I can think of one or two,” Jane answered. “But getting you four to the safe place may be more risk than it’s worth.”
As if to emphasize Jane’s point, a Homeland Security helicopter whirled by overhead. The sound of the helicopter’s blade spinning shook the apartment walls.
“But we can’t stay here,” Chelsa said. “Sooner or later, the officials are going to search your place and find us.”
At this point, I couldn’t have cared less, Kristi thought.
A little, rebellious voice in the back of her head spoke up. What is wrong with you today, Kristi? It sounds like you’re planning your death.
Well, maybe I am. I can’t believe I haven’t realized this for a long time: there is no point in life. It just goes on. Why doesn’t it seem like no one else has noticed that?
The voice responded, Well, have you considered this: Life is an endless chain of meaningless actions. Your purpose is to bring meaning to those actions.
Oh, thought Kristi, then, Am I seriously having a mental conversation with myself? I think I’m going insane.
“I’ve got it!” Troop snapped his fingers in excitement. “Never mind…I just lost it. Give me a second.”
“While we wait for Troop to relocate his idea, does anyone have any suggestions for our current predicament?” Finn asked. “We’re rather pressed for time right now.”
I might as well take a stab with figuring out how to evade the officials for now, Kristi told herself. Okay, so I know what is happening to the disappearing Accidents and I also have proof of the government funded science corporations testing on them, thanks to the contact-cam. How does the Disappearance Case relate to the Individualism Case, though? How does missing people connect to the population forgetting “perfection” is an opinion, not a fact or standard set by the authority?
Suddenly she got it. Kristi looked up from her lap and saw that Troop seemed to have reached some sort of conclusion as well.
“If people—” they both started to say at the same time.
“Go ahead,” Troop said. “Say what you wanted first.”
“Alright.” Kristi took a look around the room. Everyone’s attention was latched onto her. “I think what my parents wanted to do was bring awareness of the Accidents’ plight to the public in hopes that if people know the price of having a genetically ‘perfect’ race they will condemn it. The purpose of the Naturals is to show everyone perfection is an illusion. The public buys into the propaganda that portrays Accidents as dumb, ugly and maybe even dangerous people, but we all know that is not true. I mean, look at us.” She tipped her head towards Chelsa, Finn and Troop. “We’re not uncivilized savages. Most of the Perfects have been corrupted into believing without genetic alteration, humans would become beasts.”
“Over seven billion points are spent each year on genetic alteration updates in the United Regions,” Jane interjected.
“Perfects are afraid of becoming imperfect,” Chelsa breathed out, catching onto her train of thoughts.
“Exactly,” Kristi said. “Except that doesn’t really make sense because Perfects aren’t perfect to begin with. And just because Accidents have no DNA tailoring doesn’t make them imperfect either.”
“You’ve lost me,” Finn said. “How can a person be neither perfect nor imperfect at the same time?”
“It all depends on the point of view of the person judging. But that’s not the main point. The main point is that people have forgotten how to be unique individuals. We need to remind the world there is no such thing as a one-size-fits all form of perfection.”
“That’s great and all,” said Finn. “But how does reminding the Perfects that perfection is an illusion going to help us right now?”
“I think I know how,” Troop said. “Nick and Jane, do you think you can override the government news station?”
“I believe so,” Jane said. “I’ve never tried to before, but that was because I’ve never had the need to. Is there a reason why you need an override?”
Troop nodded. “If we can cause some commotion that will hinder the Homeland Security for a while, it will give us the chance to sneak into the safe house to hide until the door-to-door search is over.”
“And what is your idea of causing some commotion?” asked Chelsa.
“I was getting to that. If we can broadcast the testing done on Accidents in search of more DNA alterations for Perfects on the public news-screens, then that should stir up some commotion on the streets. At the same time, we can start the Individualism Case by trying to convince the population that non-genetically altered people aren’t much different from Perfects. Two birds, one stone.”
That doesn’t sound like a very reliable plan, thought Kristi. But a plan is better than no plan.
chapter forty-seven
Nick passed an electro-slate to Troop and said, “Start editing the video you want Jane and I to broadcast on the public news-screens. All of the footage shot from the contact-cams is saved onto the file labeled ‘Lab Film’. I’m going to start stashing some of the Revealers-only-technology in the safe.” He unfolded his lanky frame from the couch. “You coming with me, Jane?”
Jane followed her husband out of the living room and Troop opened up the Lab Film folder and began to filter through the recording. Most of the shots wouldn’t be useful for his purpose. Eventually, he found some footage he deemed suitable for making a video clip to stir up some trouble.
“Do you want some help with the film?” Chelsa asked. “If not, I think I’ll help Jane and Nick hide their equipment.”
“Go ahead and help them,” he said.
“Is the clip done?” Finn asked.
“Almost.” Troop rewound the video. “Let me play it one more time to make sure it’s good to air.”
“I don’t think you’ll have time to do that.” Finn drew the curtains over the window he was looking out. “The Searchers are at this apartment complex. I just saw a group of them enter the building. We have to air the film now.”
“Okay. We should have some time before the Searchers arrive since we’re on the thirty-seventh floor.”
“All the same, there’s no more time to edit the film,” Chelsa said.