... "Straight ‘A’s
again
, Joseph." "Our boys are so
smart
, aren’t they?" "They sure are!" "We’re so proud of you both!" ...
Reaching out — no,
fumbling
out — he found the fork and poked at his morning eggs again. The attendant who brought it had asked if he wanted help eating, but his silence had sent the stranger away without a second offer. After a scrape or two, he dropped the utensil again. He would have thought that after three days he’d be a little hungrier, but he cared to
eat
about as much as he cared about the pain in his eyes.
The door opened again, but there was a long pause before the visitor stepped into the room. By the time Alan finally spoke, Steve had already figured out who it probably was.
Without preamble, he said in a low voice, "I’m very sorry, Steve."
"I know you are," Steve returned. "
I’m
sorry about ... you know, yesterday."
"No, Steve, please, don’t worry about that. I understand. I brought you some terrible,
horrible
news, and you were just—"
"Did I hurt you?"
"... a little. Not bad. That’s one hell of a punch you’ve got there. I’d forgotten that you were so
strong
."
Alan’s voice sounded as though he might be smiling at that last bit, but Steve didn’t bother to return the gesture.
...
his mother spent so long fixing the birthday cake into the shape of a kick-boxer launching his foot in a masterful strike. It took three attempts for her to get it right — Katherine Davison had never been much of a baker...
(Don’t worry, Stevey, you’ll never have to eat one of her overly-dry cakes again)
(SHUT UP!!!)
After a pause, Alan spoke again. "I, um, thought you might want to know a little more about what, uh, happened, now that you’re ... but I can just come back later if you want."
Steve sighed. "No. Might as well get it over with. I don’t want my curiosity to finally rear its ugly head at three in the morning with no one around."
Steve heard Alan sit down next to the bed again. Since Steve was partially strapped
to
his bed at this point, that probably felt like a safe enough move for him.
"Three days ago," he began, "several of your neighbors reported a large disturbance at your home. The police arrived to find the ... remains of your parents, your aunt and uncle, and your cousin.
Officially, y
our brother is ‘missing,’ but ... we’re presuming the worst.
You
were found shortly thereafter and brought to the hospital. Judging from the damage caused, we surmised that paranormals were involved. You verified our assumptions yesterday."
Steve nodded, but most of his attention was lingering elsewhere. "If you found me, then you saw the motorcycle?"
"Yes. You were attacked while riding it?"
"Yeah."
"You’re lucky they didn’t hit you. The front tire looked like it’d been struck by lightning."
lightning
"Not unless lightning strikes
sideways
," Steve muttered.
"Steve," Alan said, and now there was another pause, "when we found you, shards of broken glass were protruding from your eyes. I’m ... afraid that your natural vision was permanently ruined. You, uh..." More silence — Steve could hear him shifting uneasily in his seat.
"I’m blind," he finished for the older man. "Don’t worry, Alan, I’m a bright guy. I’d already figured that much out on my own." And he
had
— he’d simply been trying
not
to think about it.
... the basketball game against John and Dan the day before had gone so—
"You don’t
have
to be, Steve," Alan whispered.
Those words snapped Steve back to the moment. "What?"
"You don’t have to be
blind
."
"I
got
that. What do you
mean
?"
Alan kept his voice low, as though he were afraid of being overheard, even though the door was closed. "What I’m about to tell you is
extremely
confidential, Steve. Do you understand?"
Steve nodded. Despite his depression, he found himself listening attentively.
"There’s been a lot of deliberation on what should be done. The PCA is screaming for our latest developments at the company, and the general public is always screaming for action ... and we have our suspicions as to who might be responsible for the murders—"
Steve latched onto that like a striking snake. "
Who?!
" he demanded.
"Did you ever meet Richard McLane?"
The emptiness, the
pit
inside was no longer
cold
now — like his wounded eyes the day before, it was starting to fill with
heat.
"Twice."
"Joseph fired McLane the day before the murders. There was an outburst and a lot of threats thrown by the man, and now the police can’t find him. If he did it, he must be brought to justice, of course, but there are certain considerations that go
beyond
that, and they seriously complicate matters."
I’m not interested in any "complications," Alan.
"Such as?"
"If McLane is consorting with paranormal rogues, it could severely jeopardize national, perhaps
global
security. McLane led the company in weapons development, and our company leads all the others. If McLane discloses his knowledge to rogues, or even begins working for or
with
them, the ramifications would be disastrous. To be honest, the PCA might not have the
raw power
to deal with a threat of this magnitude ..."
The door opened, and Alan practically leaped to his feet to meet the intruder before they could enter the room. Steve heard someone whisper something, and Alan replied with a request for a "few more minutes." A second later, the older man returned to his seat, but now his words were filled with a lot more
emotion
, and Steve realized that he was not the only person in this world affected by his family’s deaths.
"That was your doctor. I don’t have much time, so I’ll get right to the point. We need
someone
to take McLane out, someone who can deal with his associates ... and who
wants
the murdering bastard in the worst way."
Steve certainly qualified for that last condition; a fiery passion filled him now that demanded he avenge his family. But how could
he
— a suddenly alone young man — deal with paranormals? And...
"Alan, what does
any
of this have to do with my ‘not having to be blind?’
Spit it out
, for God’s sake!"
"Regardless of whether or not you accept this full ... proposal, I will
not
let Joseph’s son go blind, not when we can do something about it. We can use a project that McLane, thank God, had
nothing
to do with. We can
replace
your eyes with mechanical implants, Steve."
" ‘Mechanical implants,’ " Steve repeated. Was this the time for dawning
hope
or severe
skepticism
?
"Yes.
Artificial
eyes
, one of the side-projects the government’s allowed us to pursue. Your dad wanted to work on something besides anti-rogue weaponry, and he took full advantage of the company’s new resources. I believe he had your great-aunt in mind at the time—"
"Dad was going to fix Aunt Jane’s eyes?"
"Yes. The implants are amazing technology — they’ll function just like your natural eyes did. With a few final touches, you’ll hardly know the difference."
"Uh-huh. So what’s the catch?"
"There is
no
catch
," Alan quickly insisted, "at least, not the type that you’re implying. We
could
leave your new eyes as just that:
Mechanical
eyes
. We’ve discovered, however, that the nature of their basic design makes them capable of much, much more." Alan’s voice came closer as he leaned forward again. "Did your dad ever mention the
vortex
wave
?"
"No."
Alan’s speech flowed out like a bursting dam, a rush of excitement and pride and urgency and nervousness. "The vortex wave harnesses more power than any other conventional weapon in the
world
. It generates enough kinetic energy to crush an armored tank or punch a hole through a mountain. No known paranormal has the invulnerability or the strength to resist this much force. Steve, the focal lense of the prototype is virtually
identical
to the artificial retinas in the mechanical eyes — we literally borrowed the design from the weapon to solve some problems with the implants. With modification, I believe you could emit the vortex
directly from your new eyes
."
"No shit," Steve whispered.
"And there’s
more
," Alan continued as though he hadn’t heard. "Between their intrinsic construction and the adapted vortex lense, I think they could
also
be customized for a wide variety of
other
uses — lasers of varied intensity, infrared or ultraviolet scanning, glare protection ... but the
vortex
would be by far your primary weapon ..."
Alan finally stopped to catch his breath. "Sorry. I didn’t mean to get carried away. All of this is very, very
new
, Steve. I hadn’t even fully considered the possibilities until after your ... your
outburst
yesterday. It broke my heart ... and it
pissed me off
. I watched you and John grow up, and Joseph was like the brother I never had. McLane
must
not
get away with this ..." His voice choked, and his words trailed off.
If Steve’s mind had been a whirlwind before, it was a veritable
hurricane
now. The things Alan was describing ... five years ago, Steve would have thought he was joking, or crazy.
But that was before the White Flash, the Seven Stars, and the Paranormal Effect. Was
anything
truly "impossible" anymore?
"I’d be able to do all of this?"
"It’s theoretical," Alan reiterated, "but, yes, I believe it will work. Now remember, Steve ... if you
want
, your new eyes would
just
allow you to see. The two technologies
are
compatible, but the projects were originally developed separately. We would repair your vision first, and then the vortex and other abilities would require further adjustments and a second series of implants." Despite their privacy, his voice lowered even further. "The PCA
doesn’t know
about this yet, Steve. This would be my last favor to
Joseph
, not to them. You can have your sight back, and the PCA doesn’t have to know either way. Just you, me, and a handful of your father’s most loyal, trusted people — we all
loved
your dad." He paused, perhaps waiting for some response from Steve. When none was forthcoming, he continued, "It’s up to
you
, Steve. If you don’t want this kind of responsibility, there’ll be
no
pressure for you to change your mind. We’ll wait another few weeks, then present the vortex wave to the PCA like it has just been developed, and they can do whatever the hell they think is best.
Or
... we can keep this under wraps and proceed
our
way, at our
own
pace, and then, when you decide you’re ready, you can join the PCA yourself ... and help them hunt McLane down to the
ends of the Earth
."