Tayla Story - 016

"He said, 'what I want isn't to become God. What I need to do is kill God.

War. Discrimination. Starvation. Poverty. Corruption. This world is rotten, but we can make it better. That's what I need to do.

That's my duty to humanity.'"

"What did he mean by that?"

I asked, because I couldn't understand what Alexander meant. What his father, what Frank Scuderi, said to him.

"I wasn't sure either. When I asked, he replied…"

"How do you plan to improve the world? What do you mean by killing god?"

Scuderi smiled, "they say the winners get to write history. But the winners also set the course for the future. And that's what I intend to do. To win. And end this rotten world, so it can be replaced by something better. To achieve that, at the bare minimum, I'm willing to do anything and everything.

Alexander, do you see it now? Will you help me? To achieve my and your mother's dream?"

Scuderi extended out his hand towards Alexander. A symbolic gesture. If Alexander accepted it, then that would mean that he accepted Scuderi's world.

But, of course, he didn't. He wouldn't be back in Christchurch now if he had.

"I see it," Alexander replied, "I understand now, but… I can't accept it.

Your dream is right. It's beautiful, it might be what the world needs, but I don't think you're the right person to change it. The world needs to change, but your way of thinking, and your methods are wrong. The world won't change like that."

Alexander could tell then that Scuderi had never truly considered the possibility that he would reject him. That he wouldn't accept his dream. The glint of anger that'd been there earlier, reappeared.

"What do you intend to do then?" he retorted, "what would you do then? Are you just going to accept this rotten world like the rest of them? Every single person on the Earth is a living corpse. People who've lived meaningless lives. Is that the kind of life you want to lead?"

"No, I'm not going to accept the world the way it is. I'll change it. But I'll change it from within. If we did things your way, lots of people are going to die, aren't they?"

"Of course people are going to die," Scuderi responded nonchalantly, "no real change can be made without a sacrifice."

"You say that like it's a given. That it's okay for people to die if it helps you to achieve your dream."

"One million or even ten million deaths are nothing compared to the ten billion who will live because of their sacrifice."

"That's wrong. You can't take human lives so easily," Alexander retorted, "if you take the world through actions like that, then people will hate and despise you. The world won't become a better place."

Apparently, at that point he slammed his fist down against the bench. He couldn't understand this man who nonchalantly said that the deaths of millions could be justified. Maybe he already thought he was God. No man has that power. No man should have that power. The power to decide who gets to live and die. To carry out such an indiscriminate slaughter.

The only word for something like that, is genocide.

"No, it will. It doesn't matter if everyone hates me. As long as I create the right circumstances, the world will be able to progress. Humans are quite adaptable to change."

"Not with the wrong methods. The world can't change. People can't change that easily. With the wrong method, you won't get the results you desire."

This monster.

The monster once known as Frank Scuderi, now stood in front of Alexander. It was clear that his attention was now finally focused here and now, it had been for a while now actually. Alexander didn't remember exactly when, but if I had to guess, it was when Alexander rejected his dream. When he refused to acknowledge Scuderi's world.

But, apparently, just as he'd finally gotten his attention, he lost it. Instantaneously, and without warning.

"If that's what you really think, then there's nothing left for us to discuss."

"So, what happened after that?"

"Well… to be honest I got quite angry with him."

"I don't think anyone could blame you for that," I replied. Alexander's meeting with his father… I don't know how I'm supposed to feel about it. I'm glad that Alexander came back here. Back to Christchurch, but at the same time, I can't help but feel a little sad that things didn't work out between the two of them.

I can't imagine what it would be like if I didn't have my parents. And I'm sixteen now. Losing them when I was just nine years old like Alexander did… seems incomprehensible. It's unimaginable.

"What is it?"

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"You look a little sad."

"It's nothing."

"I see… well, after that. I got into a bit of an argument with my father. I told him that I'd do whatever it took to stop his dream from becoming reality."

"Huh…"

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Why I told you all of this."

"Huh… huh?"

"I'm going to do everything I can to stop him. To make sure that dream of his doesn't become reality."

"But… how are you going to do that?"

"I don't know. I'm not sure yet, but I'm going to do it."

…

I don't know what to say.

It's probably… impossible.

I don't even have to think that hard about it to come to that conclusion. Frank Scuderi is the most powerful man in the universe. Alexander Giovanna is a teenager working minimum wage in some backwater.

The conclusion is obvious. Alexander can't possibly win. There's simply no comparison. How would he even go about doing that? His identity isn't even official. He can't even get a higher education, or leave the country.

"I know you're thinking that it's impossible, and… maybe you're right. Honestly, I've been thinking about it all the time for over a fortnight now, and I still have no clue where I'd even start, but if I can think of a way… if I can make it happen… you'll support me, won't you?"

"Well, of course I would but…"

Alexander seems a little different than usual. I don't know what it is, exactly, but there's something in his eyes. He seems driven. Like he has some inexorable drive to see this through. To beat his father. But, how can he ever succeed in that goal?

Determination. I guess that's what it is.

"But what?"

…

…

"Nothing. I'll support you no matter what just… it'll be difficult. Don't get your hopes up."

No, on second thought, I think perhaps desperation better fits that glow I can see emulated in his green eyes.