Paradox
Chapter One: Wood Shavings and Similar Dust
---------------------------
Well, Paradox is back! I've split the storyline of Pardox into two separate stories. They both occur at the same time, but are better organized. The stories will eventually have a be-all, end-all sequel ending the storyline. I hope these stories are less confusing. And, if you're reading both stories, you will notice that this chapter is shared between the two. This is the only chapter which will do so.
As an extra note, I was going to post more tonight, but I have to go to sleep.
---------------------------
The door shook almost angrily as it was trying to be opened. The door resisted heavily; its opener realized he should have replaced it back at the beginning of the summer.
Growling in futility, the aging man gave up and walked around the side of the house. He walked up his porch, pried open the swing door, and tried the back door.
The other door opened easy with the click and turn of the key. The door swung inward, and outward rushed a powerful odor of dust and a rush of heat. Trudging up the stairs, he walked into his lonely bedroom, changed his clothes, and flopped down on his king size bed and immediately fell asleep.
These actions were likely planned. As it was, the front door wasn't stuck shut by old age and swelling of the weather, as the old man thought, but rather by a sticky substance with similar properties to super glue and cement. If it had opened as normal, the man might have passed by the kitchen. He then could have possibly decided to hang up his keys. Without a doubt, he then would have passed by his phone, therein changing the majority of this story's outcome.
The small, sleek answering machine next to the phone blinked with a red light, signaling a message received during the long months the home's occupant was gone.
The phone rang. The ring was very low, almost silent, so not even a stealthy night prowler could hear it. After a few sets of rings, the answering machine picked up. A strong voice filled with a slight bit of boredom spoke.
"Hello. You have reached Maxwell Tennyson. I'm sorry, but I can't get to the phone right now. Please leave a message after the tone and I will get back to you as soon as possible."
Background noise rustled in the message for a few seconds, and then the voice switched to a woman's robotic one. "Please note that…" and, switching to the previous voice with a loud rustle, "…Maxwell Tennyson…", and, switching back again, "… has currently set a long-term away notice. Understand that your message may not be received for a while. Please consider reaching this person via another number."
All was stopped by a high pitched beep. Another voice came out this time.
"Max, please pick up. I know you're there. Stop being paranoid about spies and bugs, just listen. You need to bring in the Null Void Projector." It pronounced the name of the device slowly and surely, so as to not make a mistake. The voice turned desperate. "We've been detecting space anomalies all across the board, and I think our fr… somebody… might starting to notice. Call me back, now. Max. Call me. Don't make me call again."
As an after note, the robotic voice appended to the end of the message: "Twenty-three unheard messages. First unheard message sent… two weeks, one day ago… at 8:12 PM…"
---------------------------
The sunlight pressed into the clean, shiny window as if it had a special purpose. An annoying grinding bounced off of the walls and a clatter of wood against wood added to the din. Looks of pure melancholy echoed across some of the children's faces. The whining of a liquid crystal projector blended with the occasional default mail arrival sound of an all-too expensive computer system, breaking into the bright orange screen with a dialog box. "Welcome," the beam of light played onto a screen. It all seemed so warm and fuzzy. Classical music played lightly in the background.
The children were all subdued, not really upset, just bored. Except for one of them. He hated all of it. He hated school. He wanted his summer back. If he had a fighting chance, he would have battled his way off of the sun-yellow transport vehicle earlier that morning. However, it was all hopeless. He had pushed on, reacquainting himself with some familiar faces and greeting them with a joyful smirk.
His friends hardly recognized him as he sauntered through the murderously white hallways. The boy had grown an inch or two, adding some muscle along the way. This surprised his comrades the most, thinking back. Their friend was never really sporty person – energetic and athletic, certainly, but he wasn't like the bulk of boys in the school – dreaming fantastically that their future will be a sporting dream, ignoring all chances of any other possibilities – you know the type – he was more of a skateboarding, biking type. More of the recreational sporting type, he was – not a baby jock. Enough of that, though...
The boy also seemed to be more confident, even though it was masked by his absolute hatred of the school. What few of them noticed, though, was the most significant change. It sat on the boy's left wrist, black and green in color. In shape and size, it looked no different than a generic sport-brand digital watch available from the crappy jewelry section of your multi-purpose mega store. But it was more than that. Oh, god... much, much more.
Ben Tennyson thought, for the millionth time, of his ride back home the week before. It began replaying in his head like a tape recording, as he twiddled a faded orange pencil between his thumb and forefinger, balancing the back two legs of the chair as he pushed himself up on it with his right hand. This had all just started when a deep voice echoed around the room. At the front of the large class was a man, who Ben assumed was his teacher. He had a broad build, and stood tall. The man wore an old, faded jacket that seemed to still gleam with newness. His hair was graying and his work thick glasses. The man's voice was energetic and smooth. "As the projector says, I would like to welcome you all to the fifth grade. Now, just to start, I want to go around the room, and begin, with your name and what you did this summer!"
The first person forced to answer was a girl, who quickly and quietly stood up, whispered her answer mouse-like, and sat down. The teacher droned, "Brilliant!" and moved on.
"…This is going to be a long year…" Ben thought while moaning quietly so nobody could hear it.
---------------------------
The interior of the building was beautifully chrome. Lights reflected on the walls every other foot. The shape of the room was generally that of a light bulb; round and even, with a rectangular box towards the front. This place, once referred to enthusiastically as a 'headquarters,' was bathed in colorless, shining light.
The slight hiss of a hydraulic door sounded, complemented by the heavy thump of a boot.
The tall man's broad shoulders and heavyset form continued to walk around the exterior of the room. At one point he suddenly stopped, almost tripping, in front of a steaming cup of coffee floating an inch in front of his face. It floated in front of and passed him. This startling appearance caused him to turn to his right, toward the direction of the hovering beverage.
Raising an eyebrow expectantly and rubbing his bearded chin, the man looked onward, and then spoke.
"What are you doing here?"
A face, softly etched with well-shaped features, turned up towards him, a surprised look spread across it.
The man's bearded face scrunched up in a confused look and urged the woman to continue with his eyes.
Her eyes, a deep green, were half-closed depressingly. She began to speak, half groaning.
"We've got a problem."
The man's eyebrows rose apprehensively. He grabbed something minuscule from his right pocket, tapped a button on it, and spoke clearly. "Hey, Cooper, we still got problems down in Australia?"
A voice crackled back. "Naw, man. You need to do something?"
"Yeah. I'm worried about something."
He walked over to the side of the large computer terminal and gripped the corner of it with two hands. "What's up?"
---------------------------
The large behemoth sat on the floor, staring at the wall of the padded room. He was thinking. He had to do this; he had to get it right. He needed to get out. He ran over the plan once more in his mind. If everything went right, he'd be safe. At least, he hoped.
A door in the wall, which has pretty much not been there a minute ago, hissed open. A man in blue walked in carrying a tray of food.
He was going to do this, he had been waiting for months.
As the man put down the food in front of him, he started to turn and walk away. He would suspect nothing; the monster was immobilized. At least, he was disabled from using his powers. In theory.
Kevin suddenly grinned. He squeezed his hands to his fist and unleashed a blue stream of energy. It crackled and exploded, fizzled and zapped. The man had no chance against the wrath of stored static electricity. Cuff links strapped to the monster shot across the room and rocketed around the walls once or twice before landing on the floor with a clank.
And with that, he was free. But he had one thing to do first. His eyes blinked sideways and a greasy sprig of hair hang down in his face as he put the hand on the man's back. Kevin needed something from the man. This time, an orange glow shot into the man's body, pulling back into the beast. Yellow light spread through the cracks and fissures on his arm that looked like rock; a green glow emitted from his torso.
Moments later he was finished. That was all he needed; just the basics. He closed his fists once more, but touched nothing. This time, a red spark appeared at his tiptoes - pardon me, claws. It slowly moved up the behemoth's ankles, transforming as they went. Instead of thick, hardened slabs appeared naked human feet. His legs turned back from tree trunks to pencils, replacing the same shorts that had graced that human body months ago. The striped black and blue tail disappeared, and his chest shrunk down to size.
A human being - black hair and all - stepped over the carcass and out the door. He closed the door, which sealed automatically. Time to have some fun. He turned to the right and located a red button protruding from the wall. Kevin smashed it with his fist, and red panels of light turned on above.
Now, the real escape.
---------------------------
Ben fiddled with the pencil between his fingers as he half-listened to his new teacher. "Okay, now, class! Right about now, we'll be going to lunch, so just put down your pencils and slowly walk out of the…"
Ben was already gone, barely hearing the incredulous cries of, "Mr. Tennyson?!"
He sat down for lunch minutes later, joyously talking to his friends. He actively participated in the conversation. Soon enough, the speaking time pointed to him. "So, dude, what did you do this summer?"
"Oh, well, I went on a cross-country trip…"
His friends laughed in response. "What, with your grandpa?"
Ben grinned sheepishly, "Well, yeah..."
"... and that freakazoid cousin of yours?" The ten-year-old laughed in response. His friends generally accepted that and continued on.
A friend named Alex asked, "So, Ben, did you get that new Sumo Slammers game?"
The boy he addressed grinned mischievously, reflecting upon how he got the aforementioned video game. "Of course! What else would…?"
He was interrupted again by a loud crash coming into their hearing range. The smell of smoke drifted into the air. The cafeteria fell instantly into silence. A television in the corner of the room flashed red, with the word ALERT drawn out across the screen. A monotone alarm rang on and off repeatedly.
"Children, out through here! Now!" A teacher had ran to the door leading outside and opened it. Teachers began rushing students out. Screams echoed through the air. Everybody ran immediately out except Ben, who recognized the clatter without knowing it. One of his friends noticed, and shouted, "Ben, come on, what are you waiting for?!" "Just wait a second, go ahead!" he responded.
"Benjamin Tennyson, get through this door NOW!" His stunned teacher began shouting.
His friend shouted, "Dude, come on, get out!"
Ben pouted and pointed a finger back at the two men. He cocked his head towards the chrome double-doors to signal his listening to the noises. A grim cackling sounded from the direction of the upper-level hallway. The fire alarm continued to ring with a dull, repeating twitter from the public announcement system.
"I know who it is!" he shouted, and began to run down the hall. The men behind him began to move out the door, but galloped after Ben instead.
---------------------------
10 Minutes Earlier
Gwen frowned uneasily as she passed the manila folder across the marble desk to the wrinkled woman confusedly fiddling with a workstation. The snorted in anger as she probably did something wrong. The young girl smirked, making the old secretary looked up. "Excuse me, miss?" The woman began to cough. "Oh… um… just commenting on these great new computers…okay then…err…click here…okay, Gwendolyn, you're in all of your classes now."
She smiled happily and said, "Thanks, Mrs. Appletree!"
As she turned around, the elderly woman rolled her eyes boredly and spat, "Have a nice year, now."
A loud explosion was heard as the child began to walk out of the carpeted office. Smoke floated into view from the hallway in front of her as she saw a flash of red and orange. Gwen dropped the bright blue messenger bag in her hand onto the floor and dashed out onto the glossy tiling.
She hardly listened as a dry voice shouted behind her, "Mrs. Tennyson! Mrs. Tennyson! Gwendolyn!"
A scared look was wiped upon her face as children flooded into the halls behind her.
That's when she met up with Ben at the epicenter of the school.
"What are you doing here?"
She couldn't help but smile at that. "Don't worry about that. What's going on?"
A rumbling sound slowly approached as the cinder-block wall in front of them outwardly exploded. The dust cleared and revealed their worst enemy.
---------------------------
"No… no way! That couldn't happen!" His brow was deeply furrowed as he rubbed his hands together nervously.
He continued to stare uneasily at the screen as the woman next to him frowned sadly, and returned her look to the screen.
"It will. Do you need me to show it to you again?"
The man closed his eyes out of pain. "No… I couldn't possibly take that for much longer." He paused for a moment and sighed, reopening his eyes. "Could this… really happen?"
The woman's orange hair danced in her eyes as she responded. "Yes… and someone's doing it as we speak."
The man's voice grew suddenly deeper and more serious, regaining the tone somewhat recently lost. "There are six of them mainline… do we have any allies in any of them?"
His partner responded without hesitation. "In half of them. Quite a few in those, in fact. And you'll never believe who it is…" And with that, she waved her finger, and a picture floated onto the glowing screen.
The man suddenly lost his solid look and grinned, almost laughing. "You're kidding, right?"
After looking at him for a second, the woman sweetly replied, "Would you like to see you instead?"
"No… I don't think I do…"
Ignoring his response, the woman confusedly glanced at the man across from her for a moment, and then spoke oddly.
"Wait a sec… Ben, have you always had black hair?"
Forming the start of an incredulous "What?!" in his mouth, the man ran a hand through the hair on his head, and rubbed his shaved chin. As he looked back at her, his eyes widened in realization. The form of his moth changed to form one simple word:
"No!"