RobertScorpio
Pariah
STAR TREK
The Perfect Man
Pillars of thought had long been held as forthright truth from the moment mankind appeared on Earth. Many such thoughts had trickled down the eons of time as though the rain that caused them might not ever come to end. And yet, on one particular Tuesday afternoon, one such thought was absorbed like so much rain in the mud of perception. For it was, on that simple Tuesday, the Perfect man was born.
He had lived a normal life, in a normal family. He had a father, a mother, and two sisters. They lived as simple people, even in the twenty-third century. His parents were both learned school teachers who taught in a simple elementary school in a suburb of New Seattle. New Seattle, like most western hubs, had grown out of the rubble of the 21st century. And as Earth matured and joined the Federation, New Seattle, just as many other Earth cities, saw a new era of peace and growth that all came with Earth’s ascension in galactic prominence.
When he first came into the lives of his parents, the Perfect Man was, of course, just a perfect boy. They were both amazed at his ability perceive events around him that other children his age would take several more years to grasp. Because of their own liberal values, the perfect boy benefited from such a life. It wasn’t long after he reached the age of ten that his parents realized their child was different. It was on his tenth birthday that his parents, who had been busy with their jobs ever since he came into their world, and other aspects of life, that they realized he had never been in trouble. On top of that, he had never missed a day of school, or caused another human to feel pain or sorrow.
His parents had long ago decided that when their son had reached the age of ten they would tell him the truth; He wasn’t their biological child, as he had been raised to believe since the moment he came into their lives. As for who and why and how he came into being, not even they knew the entire story. But this much they knew, after his tenth birthday, their son was perfect. They would now live the rest of their lives to see to it that he was safe from harm.
The smoke from the ten candles was still dancing in the air like wisps of ghosts locked in an orgy of confusion and pattern. There was a knock at the door.
“Do we answer the door?” Ashley asked her husband. “Maybe someone knows he is perfect.” She said as she watched her son open his presents in the next room.
“We can’t hide him away,” Matt, Ashley's husband replied. “If we keep him caged up it might cause suspicion.”
Ashley looked apprehensive. “We can’t let anything happen to him, Matt. He is perfect. Someone is bound to find out. Perhaps the person at the door is here to take him from us.”
“Don’t answer the door.” Matt told her softly.
“Are you going to answer it?” Ashley asked softly.
Matt nodded in agreement.
Life changes your perspective once you have belief, or faith, that your destiny is woven like a thread around another person’s destiny. And so with that thought, Matt walked into his room, and retrieved his father’s old hand phaser. He looked at his own reflection in the mirror on the wall as he held the phaser. Matt was one who deplored violence. But now, with the life of a perfect child to protect, he had a new order in his life; protector.
But the Perfect Boy, who would some day be the Perfect man, did not need protection at all. His life was being guided by a force more powerful than the spirals of thought could possibly allow. There are times a row of dominoes will fall and tilt the wind as they do. But, if one were to trace the fallen rows of white retangular shaped objects back they would see the lone domino that was the cause, and the efffect, of the chain. So, naturally, if there was a Perfect man, who was the perfect boy, he must have come from somewhere; the Perfect Father.
--continued--
The Perfect Man
Pillars of thought had long been held as forthright truth from the moment mankind appeared on Earth. Many such thoughts had trickled down the eons of time as though the rain that caused them might not ever come to end. And yet, on one particular Tuesday afternoon, one such thought was absorbed like so much rain in the mud of perception. For it was, on that simple Tuesday, the Perfect man was born.
He had lived a normal life, in a normal family. He had a father, a mother, and two sisters. They lived as simple people, even in the twenty-third century. His parents were both learned school teachers who taught in a simple elementary school in a suburb of New Seattle. New Seattle, like most western hubs, had grown out of the rubble of the 21st century. And as Earth matured and joined the Federation, New Seattle, just as many other Earth cities, saw a new era of peace and growth that all came with Earth’s ascension in galactic prominence.
When he first came into the lives of his parents, the Perfect Man was, of course, just a perfect boy. They were both amazed at his ability perceive events around him that other children his age would take several more years to grasp. Because of their own liberal values, the perfect boy benefited from such a life. It wasn’t long after he reached the age of ten that his parents realized their child was different. It was on his tenth birthday that his parents, who had been busy with their jobs ever since he came into their world, and other aspects of life, that they realized he had never been in trouble. On top of that, he had never missed a day of school, or caused another human to feel pain or sorrow.
His parents had long ago decided that when their son had reached the age of ten they would tell him the truth; He wasn’t their biological child, as he had been raised to believe since the moment he came into their lives. As for who and why and how he came into being, not even they knew the entire story. But this much they knew, after his tenth birthday, their son was perfect. They would now live the rest of their lives to see to it that he was safe from harm.
The smoke from the ten candles was still dancing in the air like wisps of ghosts locked in an orgy of confusion and pattern. There was a knock at the door.
“Do we answer the door?” Ashley asked her husband. “Maybe someone knows he is perfect.” She said as she watched her son open his presents in the next room.
“We can’t hide him away,” Matt, Ashley's husband replied. “If we keep him caged up it might cause suspicion.”
Ashley looked apprehensive. “We can’t let anything happen to him, Matt. He is perfect. Someone is bound to find out. Perhaps the person at the door is here to take him from us.”
“Don’t answer the door.” Matt told her softly.
“Are you going to answer it?” Ashley asked softly.
Matt nodded in agreement.
Life changes your perspective once you have belief, or faith, that your destiny is woven like a thread around another person’s destiny. And so with that thought, Matt walked into his room, and retrieved his father’s old hand phaser. He looked at his own reflection in the mirror on the wall as he held the phaser. Matt was one who deplored violence. But now, with the life of a perfect child to protect, he had a new order in his life; protector.
But the Perfect Boy, who would some day be the Perfect man, did not need protection at all. His life was being guided by a force more powerful than the spirals of thought could possibly allow. There are times a row of dominoes will fall and tilt the wind as they do. But, if one were to trace the fallen rows of white retangular shaped objects back they would see the lone domino that was the cause, and the efffect, of the chain. So, naturally, if there was a Perfect man, who was the perfect boy, he must have come from somewhere; the Perfect Father.
--continued--
