Project: MI
Chapter 8

Jamie awoke to find the ceiling staring back at him, although ‘awoke’ was very much a lie as far as he was concerned. Simply opening his eyes was by far the more accurate description and even that so long as he was generous with it. He had not slept. Not one dream flittered across his subconscious—at least not one that he was aware of. In spite of the aching exhaustion that filled his limbs, requiring him to be half-dragged back home, he did little more than lie there with his eyes closed, feeling time just drag by.

Thinking about Monster.

Jamie made an exasperated groan as he sat up in bed and looked at the alarm clock. It read at five of six and would go off soon. Restless as he was, he turned off the alarm setting and pulled himself the rest of the way out of his warm nest. Over on his desk, Beth’s electric eye winked on, detecting his movement.

“You’re already getting up?” she asked curiously.

“Might as well,” Jamie replied, heading over to his dresser and pulling open a drawer.

“I detected rhythms in your breathing that was inconsistent with…”

“Yeah, I couldn’t fall asleep,” Jamie interrupted, tugging on a plain blue shirt. “Like you can’t guess why.”

“I’m sorry that there hasn’t been anything on Monster. These things take time.”

“Don’t…!” he began sharply before taking hold of himself. Taking slow, deep breaths, he calmed down. “I know,” he said finally, and left it at that. He hated saying it.

After pulling on his pants, he grabbed his school bag and looked through it.

“Crud,” he muttered, seeing a slightly crumpled sheet of paper sticking out of a book. “I forgot to do my homework…”

Today is just going to get worse, he thought. He just wanted to skip school and go looking for Monster. Unfortunately, Beth being by his side would negate that possibility. She kept track of his movements and reported everything he did. For the first time that he could remember, he found himself hating her, and he hated himself for feeling that way.

She’s just doing her job. It’s not like she has a choice either. I can’t tell her to look the other way and not say a thing. Zipping up his bag with more force than necessary, he pulled on his shoes.

“Are you all charged up?” he asked.

“One moment please,” Beth replied. “I am currently downloading a new patch. My communication protocols have been updated. I can’t be unplugged until I am finished.”

“Hm,” Jamie grunted, setting himself down on the floor. “No rush.” He glanced around his room, a strange feeling coming over him that something was off. After a moment he brushed it off, more worried about Monster’s absence than anything else. Closing his eyes, he curled his fingers into his palms, resisting the urge to hit his desk.

After yesterday’s incident in the park and after coming home without his Cerberus, the last thing he wanted to do was explain anything, such as how he destroyed his desk.

Not that they won’t figure it out.

“Download complete,” Beth said. “You may unplug me now.”

Snatching Beth off her charger, he quickly clipped her to his belt and lifted his bag off the floor. Exiting the room, he found himself nearly jumping in surprise as he came face to face with his mother, a bland expression on her face.

“I was just about to come get you,” she said, her tone equally as dull. “I didn’t hear your alarm go off.”

“I woke up early,” he explained, shrugging his bag onto his shoulder in an indicative fashion.

“Oh,” she said in a disinterested manner before brushing past him. “Any word on Monster?”

“Sadly no,” Beth said in a sorrowful tone. “I checked the SPCA’s website regularly and so far no new information has been posted.”

The woman came to a rest beside the door near the stairs and laid her hand to rest on the rabbit picture.

“Well, hopefully something will come up,” she replied. “Don’t forget to take your pills before you leave.”

With that said she dropped her hand and began to head down the stairs. Jamie stood there for a moment, his eyes fixated on the door, one hand locked in a tight fist shaking. Making a disgusted sound, he stormed right past it, not bothering to touch its doorknob as per his usual custom.

“I’ll find him,” he declared under his breath. “I’ll bring Monster home!”

The elevator doors to the third floor of the CHC office building slid open, and John and Teruo both stepped out. The dark-haired boy had a sullen look on his face as he took a look around him.

“I hate these carpets,” he grumbled under his breath.

“So you’ve said for the hundredth time,” John replied. He frowned at the boy. “And don’t tell me…”

“Thirty-seven,” Teruo interrupted. John sighed.

“Let’s just get this over with, okay? The sooner the better, you know that.” He thought for a moment before a small smile crept across his face. “If you behave yourself, I’ll take you somewhere.”

“You’ve already taken me somewhere.” Teruo glanced up at him, his expression annoyed.

There’s just no winning with this kid. “Somewhere you want to be.”

“I don’t go out,” Teruo replied. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he turned and started to make his way down the hall. “Hey Jason,” he greeted casually to a man passing by. Jason nodded in turn before raising an eyebrow at John.

“He’s going ahead of you?” he asked, pointing at the boy questioningly. John resisted the urge to wince.

“He’s just familiar with his way around this place,” John replied, clapping his coworker on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. Anything new to report?”

“Just that our department is getting a few new case files. Nothing too spectacular I think. Oh!” Jason snapped his fingers. “The Grey case is being reopened. You remember that one right? From about a year ago?”

John nodded, but not in an enthusiastic manner. Great. One more pile of paperwork that I need to worry about…

“Anyway,” Jason continued. “Someone from Clark General will be contacting your department soon, so be ready.”

“All right. Let the team leader know that I’ll be in soon. Talk to you later.”

“Right. Later.”

With that, the two men parted ways and John strode after Teruo as he disappeared around a corner. For the briefest of moments, the young man felt as though his heart stopped in his chest at losing sight of him, but upon rounding the corner it quickly found reason to continue beating as he came across Teruo leaning against the wall, smirking.

“Don’t break the rules, John.”

“Clever,” John said, taking the boy by the shoulder and leading him forward. “It’s more you that should be observing them. When you’re here, you stay within my sight, or those you’re assigned to work with.”

“Which you’ve said over and over…”

“I know.” John smiled, deciding to indulge him this time. “How many times has it been?”

Teruo returned the smile. “Thirty-eight.”

Behind the pair as they left the spot Teruo had been, a small, bronze-colored, circular device lifted itself up on needle thin legs. A red light lit up at its front and watched them go until they disappeared from view, and then it scrambled away.

“All right,” said a technician as he applied a sensor to Teruo’s forehead. “This won’t hurt a bit.”

“Normally people like you lie about that,” Teruo replied jokingly. The technician smiled.

“Correction: doctors lie about that. I work with machines.”

“What’s your point?” asked Teruo before continuing matter-of-factly. “Isn’t my body a machine?”

“I’d ask the biologist,” the technician quipped right back, “but ours is off today.” He furrowed his brow thoughtfully for a second. “Hey, since you’re so good with tech, wouldn’t you be able to answer that question?”

“Uh…” Teruo hesitated, not sure how to respond to that. “Well…the guts I deal with are…metal-based. That’s all my Q-Field allows me to understand.”

“Hmmm… Too bad. You’d probably make an excellent surgeon if it did.” He stood back, nodding to himself. “All right. We’re ready to get to work.”

Teruo, dressed in nothing but a hospital gown, swung his legs up and lay himself down on the bed. No sooner did he do so did the bed jerk and begin drawing him into a small, tunnel-like device, whereupon it stopped. Teruo’s fingers curled into his palm anxiously. He scanned the interior with his eyes, taking in every little detail. There were three frames dotted with slight bulges in their surface. Their proximity made him swallow.

It’s just like being in a womb, he thought to himself, and as though the thought had been a signal, the tension in his body began to ease up, and his fingers relaxed.

“So, what are you going to do this time?” Teruo said aloud. “Beam images into my head?”

“That’s the plan,” said the technician from outside. Teruo could hear him moving around, pressing buttons. “Good to see that you knew that pretty quick.”

“Q-Fields cheat,” Teruo remarked, shifting. “You had to have seen my report cards, right?”

“I’m not privy to that kind of information. Only your guardian and the higher ups have access to that.”

“Right.” Teruo shifted again. “Look, can we hurry this up?”

“Don’t worry, kid. We’ll get this wrapped up in no time, and then you can have all the ice cream in the world.”

“Another doctor’s lie,” Teruo grumbled. “You sure you don’t practice?”

“Pretty sure. I’ve got a degree that tells me so, and I spent a great deal of time practicing it. So…no. Pretty sure I didn’t study medicine. Are you ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Okay. Here we go.”

There was a wine of machinery powering up, and then the frames burst with sudden light, not intense enough to hurt him, but enough to make Teruo clench his eyes shut reflexively. As he did so, an image of a rocket filled his mind. The light flashed again, and there was a satellite. Again, and there was a computer. Again, and again, and again; more images, more pieces of technology.

“Okay, okay,” he said hoarsely under his throat. “Cut it out. I’m starting to get a headache.”

“Stopping program.”

The bed withdrew from the tunnel, and Teruo sat up, nursing his forehead. The technician came over to him, a glass of water in his hand.

“Sorry about that. I thought we had adjusted the thing this time. How’re you feeling?”

Teruo pointed at the hand on his head in response before accepting the glass of water. Briefly he wondered why people always offered water to someone whenever they had just been upset, but shrugged the thought aside and took a swallow anyway. He wasn’t one to turn down free hospitality.

The info that I get out of this place had better be worth the pain of coming here, he thought.

“Would you look at that?”

John turned to his blond-haired coworker, Samantha Laurent and nodded before returning his attention to the computer screen.

“Teruo’s Q-Field definitely received the information broadcast to him.”

“I know, but look here.” Samantha reached out and tapped the screen where an image of a brain—Teruo’s—stood out prominently. “This sort of activity we usually see when we’re problem solving, particularly when a person is experiencing REM sleep. This is all Parietal Lobe action when we’re dreaming, yet he’s awake. He’s not sleep walking or anything.” Samantha looked at John with amusement. “He was awake when you brought him in, right?”

“I had to work to drag him out of bed, but he was awake,” John replied. “It certainly says something though. When a person becomes a heroi, the first signs involve dreams—usually extremely lucid ones.”

“Sometimes the amount of lucidity determines what kind of Heroi, or how strong, they become. Remember the Sleep Walker incident?”

“That was well before our time,” John pointed out. “We missed it by a good fifty years.”

Samantha tapped a finger against her lips, her eyes alight with excitement. “It’s times like this that I wish the higher ups would let us into the archives. We could understand this so much better if we had access to all the research from the previous Ages. All the studies that were done on psychics… Think of how that could help us!”

John shrugged nonchalantly. He wasn’t entirely certain that the previous Ages had anything that could be safely learned from. Except maybe to learn not to do what they did back then, he mused.

“This is all very interesting, but we haven’t yet picked out the mechanism that lets Teruo do what he does. Most people can’t look at something and instantly know all there is to know about how it works and what it takes to build it.”

“Maybe it’s like one of those old ideas…you know, where the brain is only using ten percent of its ability to work.”

John rolled his eyes. “That was long ago proven to be…be…”

“Bullshit?” Samantha smirked.

“Yes. Thank you.”

“You’re too much of a stickler, John. You need to lighten up; cut loose a little.”

Here we go again… “Let’s not get away from this. With Teruo we know that his power is based in the brain, particularly in how it processes information. But this isn’t quite what the Parietal Lobe does. It’s…it’s mostly spatial recognition, isn’t it?”

“People stop dreaming when they have damage to it.” Samantha fixed John with a slight frown. “What did they teach you at university?”

“I was mostly studying child psychology.” Which was why I hooked up with being Teruo’s guardian. I didn’t have a choice in the matter. “So what do you think?”

Samantha huffed and leaned back in her chair. “I wish I could really tell you. Sigmund Freud had a lot to say on the development of the heroi psyche, particularly in the area of dreams. Biologically speaking though, there may be some organ or connection in the brain that we just haven’t mapped out yet. Who knows? It could be that Teruo’s head is connected to the Internet and he’s able to do a search for whatever he sees. That doesn’t explain the how he does it, except for the Q-Field, but it’s not like we understand that any better.” She tapped a finger on her forearm. “Not without peeking into what the archives have to say anyway…”

“I doubt that Teruo’s head can somehow access the Internet,” John said. “I’ve seen his grades.”

“So have I,” Samantha nodded. “Average intelligence. Intense dislike for mathematics. I don’t know. Can simple intuition be a superpower?”

“He is an Alpha-3,” John noted. “The landscape of the Alpha description usually means basic enhancements or minor mutations to the body. Like Mallory for instance…”

“God I love her hair,” Samantha sighed, leaning into her hand dreamily. “How’d she get so lucky? All the guys rave about her.”

“Uh…yeah. Sure.”

“Except you, of course,” Samantha pointed out. “You should rave about her too. Or is Teruo on the money with you wanting to get it on with a certain police officer?”

“Sam!!!” exclaimed John in surprise. Samantha chuckled.

“I see how it is. Yep. She’s got you, hook, line, and sinker.”

John rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to say something, but before he could get so much as a word out, the phone on the desk started ringing. Reaching over, he picked it up.

“John Smith, Center of Heroi Control. How may I help you?”

“Do you have to make it sound like we’re in customer services?” Samantha whispered, plainly annoyed. John ignored her.

“This is Doctor Parsons from Clark General Hospital. I was contacted in regards to a former patient by the name of James Grey, and was referred to your department…”

Someone got ahead of me, thought John.

“Yes, thank you for getting back to us,” John began, leaning back in his chair. “Sorry to bring up old news, but we need all the information that you have available regarding the patient in question. Additionally, if it’s not too much trouble, we would like to interview anyone in your staff who had contact with him during that time frame.”

“It…can be arranged,” the doctor said carefully, and John suddenly had an image of the man as the sort who did not like to have his time wasted on seemingly nonsensical tasks. “I can arrange for my secretary to compile a list for you by the end of the day…”

“Please do so.”

“Will that be all?”

“Just one more question,” John replied, smiling a little. “Do you like coffee?”

7:45

Kira hated bus transportation. Even before she became able to fly she hated it. Once, when she was still in her single digits, she purposefully missed the bus just so she could see how long it would take her to get to school on foot. She knew how close she was, so it left her with an odd feeling that something was off whenever she arrived there so late in the morning. Sure enough, she was there in only twenty minutes.

Her mother yelled at her for doing so, telling her about all the muggers and kidnappers that preyed the streets and how she was oh-so-worried about her being on her own like that. So until she got her powers, she rode the bus just so as to not worry her. After, it was just to keep up appearances.

She sighed. I still can’t believe that I got out of that without her realizing what was going on. I nearly punched through the wall! She flexed her hand and looked down at it. Barely four months ago would she have had a nasty bruise coloring her flesh, and that was if she was lucky. Invulnerability more than had its perks.

Just what happened yesterday? Was she trying to contact me using her powers? She felt so real… That’s…not something that she can do. Could do. Her mouth twisted itself into a grimace. What are they doing to her over there?

The bus drew to a halt in front of the school. Grabbing her book bag she wove herself into the gaggle of students that were already entering the aisle against bus regulations and within short order got off.

So far it was taking everything she had to keep from taking off now and storming into Romana Pax to find her sister. She couldn’t afford to do anything more than keep a low profile. She didn’t want to end up like her mother or the boy, James.

Pulling out her cell phone she checked her messages. Still nothing from Malcolm, she thought. When is he going to get back to me? Sighing and shaking her head, she pocketed the phone. Maybe he can’t make heads or tails of what I told him either. Maybe he’s not as good as I thought he was. Either way, something is going to have to happen later. I’ll pay him a visit after school and see what’s what then. If he doesn’t give me something… She let the thought drift off as she envisioned herself ripping the ground apart around Malcolm’s base. It did little to assuage her disappointment in how things were progressing.

Getting through the day is going to be tough, she mused upon passing through the school’s main entrance.

She set herself down in the cafeteria, a tray with a bowl of cereal and a carton of milk sitting on it. Breaking open the milk carton, she poured it over her breakfast and set about stirring it together.

Another tray was set down directly across from her.

“What do you want?”

That was what she would have said as she looked up, eyes full of annoyance, but she got as far as the word ‘what’ before she found herself facing a thin, plain looking girl with curly brown hair with a purple, fuzzy sweater.

“Hey Kira,” the girl smiled. “Long time no see.”

Kira’s mouth worked, trying to say something…anything. After a couple seconds of stunned amazement, she finally stammered out, “M-Monique?! Wha-? When did you…?”

“So I can sit here?”

In her shock, Kira found herself completely forgetting all her worries.

“When did you…?” She shook her head, trying to loosen the cobwebs that took hold in her mind. “Oh…wow. I don’t believe this!”

“I thought that would be the case. Mom wanted me to tell you as soon as I woke up, but I wanted to keep things quiet to surprise you.” She scrunched her face up in her usual way when she looked like she caught someone. It was an expression Kira found that she missed a great deal.

“When did you get out of the hospital?” Kira asked, finally managing to collect herself.

“Oh…about a while ago,” she said teasingly. Kira did not look appeased by this evasive answer.

“When?” she reiterated. “The last time I visited you…tried to…was when they moved you, and they wouldn’t tell me where!”

“Doesn’t matter,” Monique replied, leaning back in her chair. “I’m back. That’s all that’s important, right?” She brushed at her bangs and Kira’s eyes were drawn to the dark, knotted-looking scar that ran along the corner of her head. She winced and turned away. Monique gave her a sympathetic look.

“Does it really look that bad?” she asked, her hand dropping from her hair.

“It looks…” Kira trailed off, unable to say more as she pressed her lips together into one tight line. Monique reached over and touched her forearm.

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t really remember much anyways.” She smiled again, this time a much more natural one that was all sparkling white teeth. “You want to get together after school and hang out? We’ve got a lot to catch up on.”

“I…” Before Kira could properly answer, she saw out of the corner of her eye a familiar face emerge from the cafeteria line, quickly followed by two other boys. James… she thought, floored by this development before repeating the name in her mind more strongly. James! He’s here?! He attends school here? He…

“Kira?”

The girl blinked, remembering the matter at hand. Dropping her gaze, she poked at her breakfast, suddenly finding it no longer appetizing.

“I…have something else I’ve got to take care of,” she replied. She offered her friend an apologetic look. “Next time?” she offered, hating herself for doing this to her friend—her best friend, whom she felt deserved blowing off not in the least.

Monique looked disappointed, but she nodded. “Guess I should have told you after all,” she said, her smile smaller now. “But…” Her lips curved wider again. “…that look on your face was totally worth it!”

Something isn’t right…

The thought hammered over and over inside Beck’s mind as he strode through the halls of Romana Pax, anxiously munching on the contents from a bag of chips, unmindful of the crumbs that spilled down his shirt. Throwing open his office door he frowned at the intern that jumped at his entrance.

“What are you so jumpy about?” he asked sardonically. “Also, didn’t I fire you?”

“But…but you told me that you would see me tomorrow…and to take the day off. I thought you were just…”

“Get me some pudding from the vending machine up on the third floor,” Beck interrupted, tossing some change to the young man, who just barely caught them. He stared at Beck, flummoxed, causing the man to roll his eyes in exasperation.

“What are you waiting for? An invitation? Go on! I require some privacy for a few minutes.”

Scrambling out of his seat, the youth was out the door so quickly that Beck imagined a puff of smoke rising behind him. Shaking his head, he made a tsking sound and wandered over to his computer, quickly firing it up. Accessing the network, he immediately ran through all the updates to the relevant newsfeeds. Scowling, he pulled out his cell phone and immediately began dialing Steiner’s number. A buzz and a click later, he spoke before the man had so much as a chance to give a groggy hello.

“There’s nothing going on about yesterday,” he said. “The news isn’t saying anything about our Chosen Kid’s little outburst. Might want to get your ass down here. We need to chew the fat on this one.”

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