II.
The Leader
It was the same morning as a thousand times before. The artificial sun rose up behind his room, it broke sharply through the thin gap of shutters, painting bright lines of light onto the projector walls. The lines slowly climbed up to his eyelids and tickled them. The walls projected the scene of the sunny beach, the room filled with the sound of the roaring sea—the computer had even produced a smooth, salty breeze.
Aaron sat up in his bed.
No question, he thought, this is the day. He could not even sleep well through last night, he was so excited.
He jumped out of bed, avoiding the approaching dress-up-droid, and ran to the wardrobe. It was forbidden to touch the clothes, but he didn’t really care about that—he tore the door wide open and started to throw his stuff on
