Something Like Lightning (46 page)

“But my appointment—”

“There is no appointment,” Marcello interrupted. “Well, there
is.
Just not when and where you expect one.” He took a sip of juice, nostrils flaring as if the substance was alien to him, but he managed to swallow it anyway. “I made a few calls, and there’s a small company called Ottobock in Germany. Ever heard of them?”

“Small company?” Kelly chuckled madly. “Ottobock keeps coming up in the research I’ve been doing. They have these computerized knees called the C-Leg that are perfect for trans-femoral amputees.”

“C-Leg,” Marcello said with a dismissive toss of his head. “Ha!”

“Ha?”

“Ha!” Marcello repeated.

“What are we ‘ha’-ing about?” Kelly asked.

“Genium is the new buzz-word, and the latest technology from Ottobock. From what I understand, it’s like comparing the first wheel a caveman carved out of stone to a nice plump Michelin tire.”

Kelly vaguely recalled reading about the next generation of prosthetic knees, but as far as he understood... “Those aren’t on the market yet.”

Marcello waved a hand. “I made a few calls. Now then, a car with a well-stocked bar awaits. I suggest we share a toast over this happy announcement while being whisked away to the airport.”

Kelly still had unanswered questions, but his house had become a bustle of activity. His father was carrying his luggage outside, his mother kissing his cheeks and telling him to behave, like he was still a child. Then he followed them outside to find a six-passenger limousine parked parallel to the house. One of the doors was open, his teenage brother leaning over with his head in the car. When he stood upright again, a large dog hopped out after him.

Zero saw Kelly and raced up the driveway for a quick greeting— nearly toppling Marcello in the process—before rushing back to Royal’s side. That could only mean one thing. Kelly reached the car and stooped to look inside. Nathaniel sat there, already assessing Kelly to make sure he was okay with this turn of events.

“Marcello wanted it to be a surprise,” he said.

Kelly just smiled back, because for some reason, he felt like crying.

His mother had no reservations about weeping. She hugged him, then grabbed Marcello and did the same to him. After a teary goodbye, Kelly escaped into the car, eager for some quiet so he could consider all that was happening. Of course there was a reason monks didn’t hop into fully-stocked limos when wanting to meditate. Kelly marveled at the interior, feeling it was excessive to ride in such a large car. At least until Marcello squeezed in next to him.

“Lovely people,” he said. “Shall I ask the driver to crack the whip?” “Sure.”

Nathaniel raised his hand to stop Marcello. “There’s nothing else you need?”

“I’m ready.” Then Kelly thought twice and stuck his head out the window, shouting at his brother who had just reached the front door. “Royal, run upstairs and grab my crutches!” He leaned back in his seat and knocked on his prosthetic leg “There’s no way I’m wearing this sucker on an international flight.”

“You might as well leave it behind,” Marcello said. “Soon you’ll have no need of it.”

Kelly mustered up a smile, but as they waited for his brother to return, he felt increasingly uneasy about the implications. Once he had his crutches and the car was in motion, he decided to speak his mind before it was too late. “Listen, this is all really exciting, but even a normal C-Leg is fifty thousand. I’m not sure what my insurance will cover, especially if I’m abroad, and—”

“You’ll be field-testing the Genium model,” Marcello interrupted. “Why, you’ll practically be doing Ottobock a favor.”

“But does that make it free?” Kelly pressed.

Marcello raised an eyebrow. “Nothing in this world comes free except for heartache and death. Now, on that happy note, let’s have a drink. That juice left the strangest taste in my mouth. How can I describe it?”

“Healthy?” Nathaniel suggested.

“That must be it.” Marcello appeared disturbed by the concept. “Thankfully, the cure for most ailments can be found sitting in a bucket of ice. Who would care to join me?”

Nathaniel shook his head. “We talked about this. From now on you’re waiting until a respectable time of day before you start drinking.” Kelly grinned. “You’re making him wait until dinner?”

“Until lunch,” Marcello snapped, “but brunch isn’t so far away and is damn near the same thing.”

“As soon as we’re dropped off at the airport,” Nathaniel said, “I’m instructing the driver to take you to the nearest Alcoholics Anonymous meeting.”

“You’ll find it’s no use,” Marcello said with a casual shrug. “I’ve been banned, nationwide, from all such meetings.”

“You’re full of it,” Nathaniel said, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m not! They accused me of being the most prolific enabler the world has ever known, to which I replied that Jesus has me beat by a few thousand years.”

Nathaniel scowled. “Too bad he’s not here, because he could turn water—and that’s all you’re getting—into wine.”

Kelly nudged Nathaniel with his foot, pleading with his eyes. Sure, it might be eight in the morning on a Monday, but today they had reason to celebrate. And a tediously long flight to sleep through. After that, who knew what the future might hold?

Germany had never really been on Kelly’s radar. In grade school, he had met a girl whose family had recently immigrated to the States. She seemed perfectly ordinary except for her accent. Kelly knew of the Berlin Wall, and of course the shadow of World War II still loomed over the globe. He remembered first learning about the Holocaust in school and seeing photos so disturbing that he wished such horrors were impossible. But they weren’t. So aside from key historical events and a very friendly third-grader, Kelly knew little about the land they had arrived in.

On the flight over the Atlantic, he had imagined a country based on German efficiency and design—the buildings smooth and white, the people slim and dressed in black. No nonsense, just productivity and competence. So when the taxi drove them through the center of Berlin to their hotel, what he noticed first was spray-painted graffiti. Few surfaces weren’t covered in at least a primitive tag of some sort: the long stone apartment buildings that filled entire blocks, the trains and streetcars that ran alongside traffic, street signs, phone booths, bus stops—all seemed to have been marked by the most prolific artist in the world. Or artists, since the graffiti ranged from ridiculously amateur scribbles to astoundingly skillful murals.

The German people were just as varied as the art. Sure, he spotted a few thin-faced individuals who appeared to be perpetually sucking a lemon, but he also saw punks straight out of the eighties, hot young guys in the most generically popular fashions, and pretty girls wearing thrift-store finds. Middle-aged women here often had an androgynous charm, and the elderly didn’t seem averse to walking or biking. Those were just the people Kelly could fit into specific categories. Most seemed to be doing their own thing without worrying about any specific sense of style.

Closer to Berlin’s center, the scenery became much more polished. Most cities put on a pretty face for tourists, which is exactly what he and Nathaniel were. No photo shoot awaited them. That had just been a ruse. Their vacation started today in a hotel designed for extended stays. This meant a larger living space beyond the bed, and a small but fully equipped kitchen filling one wall. As luxurious as this no doubt was for the region, Kelly found it—like most accommodations in Europe— somewhat cramped. Not that he minded Nathaniel and him being on top of each other. Or rather, Nathaniel being on top of him. Maybe a quick shower and then...

He glanced over at Nathaniel, who was seated on the small couch and staring at the television. Like everywhere they stayed, he would soon complain about the screen being too small, or the built-in sound system being inadequate, or worst of all, the television not being properly set up for high definition. Currently the screen was covered in multicolored text, like something from a primitive computer system.

“Weird,” Kelly said. “What is that?”

“No idea. I must have hit the wrong button.” Nathaniel stared a moment longer and then grunted. “That’s the date in the corner, right?” Kelly peered at the numbers. “Yes.”

Nathaniel sighed. “I’m always doing this.”

“Time change?” Kelly asked.

“Yup. We left on a Monday, we arrived on a Tuesday.”

“That’s okay, isn’t it?”

Nathaniel looked over at him. “Your first appointment is in thirty minutes.”

“I don’t even have time to shower?”

“Nope.”

Kelly groaned. “Okay. Gross, but okay. I doubt much will happen today besides them taking a cast of my stump. Should be easy, right?” “Of course. I don’t suppose you speak German?”

“Does anyone?”

Nathaniel raised an eyebrow. “I’m guessing the locals do.”

Kelly shrugged. “So all we have to do is show up smelly and tired at one of the most technologically advanced corporations in the world and grunt in primitive English while gesturing at my leg. Or where a leg should be.”

Nathaniel nodded. “That about sums it up.”

Kelly flopped facedown into bed. “In that case, I’m not going.”

“You are,” Nathaniel insisted.

Kelly closed his eyes. “Reschedule or something.”

“You’re going.”

Kelly ignored this, smirking into his pillow. He felt the mattress shift before an arm wrapped around his waist. Cuddle time? But no, Nathaniel hoisted him up, carried him to the hallway, and lowered him to the carpet. A moment later his crutches clattered to the floor next to him. Then the room door swung shut.

“Twenty-five minutes and counting,” Nathaniel said. “Don’t make me drag your ass down the sidewalk. You saw how much snow was out there. More like slush really, and no, we aren’t taking a taxi, so hurry up.”

Kelly sighed and rolled over onto his back. “You’re so good to me,” he said, staring at the ceiling. When he heard the elevator ding from farther down the hall, he decided he’d better follow. Especially since he had left his hotel key on the coffee table. It was either sleep in the hallway, or follow a handsome man out into the cold Berlin weather.

The next morning, for the second day in a row, they stood outside the Science Center Berlin. Kelly saluted to shade his eyes from the morning sun, considering the Ottobock-owned building with a clearer head. International flights always made him feel a little delirious, due to him rarely managing more than brief unsettled naps. He never handled sleep deprivation well, and so his first impression of the building had surely been skewed. Especially since he recalled a building transported from the future—a tall rectangle constructed from thick white ribbons and dark waves of windows.

That impression didn’t make much sense, but standing here now, after a full-night’s sleep and with a hotel breakfast in his belly, he saw his memory was absolutely correct. If the architecture was meant to convey a state-of-the-art facility, then it succeeded in excess.

“We’re half an hour early,” Nathaniel said.

“Good,” Kelly replied. “I want to check out the exhibition.”

He led the way inside, feeling again as if he’d stepped onto the bridge of the starship Enterprise. Polished white surfaces, round curves instead of sharp corners, and display panels everywhere they looked. An older man sat at a reception desk to the right, his dark suit and wrinkled face a strong contrast to the polished perfection surrounding him. After a brief conversation, they were allowed to enter the exhibition area. Much of it consisted of flashy interactive displays designed to get visitors involved. Nathaniel was drawn in by these, placing his arm on a flat surface that then projected an image of bones and muscles onto it.

Kelly barely paid attention, moving instead to the exhibitions that utilized actual prosthetic limbs. The arms and hands were fascinating enough, but when he stood in front of a cabinet with a real Genium knee and leg, he felt like a kid with his nose pressed against a toy store window.

“One of those is waiting for you upstairs,” Nathaniel said, coming up behind him. “It’s almost time. Let’s go.”

Kelly followed him to the elevator, eyeing the stairs longingly. He could take them, but it would slow them down, and right now he felt like rushing. The Germans didn’t waste any time either. He couldn’t believe that the custom-fitted socket had been prepared overnight instead of requiring the weeks of waiting he’d been through back home. Almost two years ago, he realized.

“Nervous?” Nathaniel asked.

“Yes,” Kelly said.

That didn’t begin to express it. They reported to the Competence Center—as it was called—Kelly fighting against rising hope, not wanting to be hurt when his unrealistic dreams didn’t come true. The Competence Center was just as modern as the downstairs areas, but practical rather than flashy. Here they were shown to a room with balancing bars, small sets of steps for training, and other obstacles that normally wouldn’t challenge anyone older than a toddler.

“You’ve got your angry face on,” Nathaniel pointed out.

“Sorry,” Kelly said as he took a seat at the end of the parallel bars. “That happens when I get anxious. Or when I get angry, obviously.”

Nathaniel smirked. “Or in bed, just when you’re about to—”

“Guten Morgen, Herr Phillips! Herr Courtney!”
The woman who entered the room, Inga, was barely older than Kelly. Her hair was medium length, and she didn’t bother with makeup, possessing a natural beauty that Kelly found appealing. He was amused as she formally shook hands with both of them, but he became a lot more serious when he saw the case she was carrying.

“Is that my leg?” he asked.

“Yes,” Inga replied. She, like all the other Germans they’d met so far, had a strong grasp of the English language. Her phrasing was a little awkward at times, but devoid of the stereotypical accent movie villains were often burdened with. “Are you ready to try it on?”

“Hell yes!” Kelly said.

Inga smiled while setting the case on a low side table. Then she sat on a short rolling stool in front of him. “We’ll start with the socket,” she said. “And then,
icks tsfy”