By the way, my husband pestered me to watch 'Legend of the Super Galaxy' last night, and he had a list of disgruntlements. I warned him! He posted his list to his blog, but I thought I would put his list at the bottom of the next chapter. Enjoy, and feel free to add to the list.
Young Offender, Part 35:
Albert felt something cold brush against his side. He cracked his eyes to see Dr Uranus examine Hilda's wedding band on his silver chain. He was offended to see his own gold, wedding band was now on the silver chain, too. It had been snatched from his finger with no permission. He couldn't do anything to stop the man, but he was grateful when Gilmore snatched the necklace from the Greek scientist and tucked it in his own pocket.
"Let this man have some dignity. He's still grieving!"
"I was just getting him ready for surgery. So... they're letting you help out?"
"They have no choice for the upgrades to 004. I worked on his secondary system. Without me, there isn't much you can do to integrate the primary with it."
"So in other words, you won't hand over the codes to totally kill his self destruct mechanism."
"Would you hand over those codes in my situation?"
"Not at all. So when we go to start rebuilding him, Issac?"
"Boom!" Gilmore shouted suddenly and gave a sinister chuckle.
"Don't be such a child, Gilmore!" Gaia raged across the surgical table where Albert was resting. "Hand it over, you sanctimonious bastard, or I'll call Mrs Gamo!"
"The Gamos are too busy with 001's upgrades to come down here to sooth your ego!" Gilmore gloated. Albert figured the Jewish scientist still had the upper hand.
"Would you both shut up!" Uranus finally interjected. "Let's work together and get this done."
Gilmore and Gaia nodded, both still glaring at each other. Uranus went over to a table with a clipboard, Gaia joined him after growling, "I'll be watching you, Issac."
Albert's left hand felt incredible heavy, but he was able to move it and grab Gilmore's wrist. "End it," he whispered.
Gilmore shook his head and leaned over to say, "I can't, and I won't. I refuse to euthanize you. You have too much to live for. Think about the others and don't be so selfish. I've been watching the three of you together. Those two will fall apart without you. Pull it together."
"I won't live."
"You must," Gilmore insisted.
"I'll self-detonate right now."
"That was suspended when you came in. You didn't realized because you've been under so much medication. For your sake, settle down," Gilmore pleaded. Albert nodded weakly. He closed his eyes and fell into a cold, black sleep.
Francoise was apprehensive; not only was Albert gone, but Jet was absolutely inconsolable. Something had shaken him up when they had come for Albert. He lay face down on Albert's bed with his head buried under the pillow. She rubbed his quivering shoulder every now and again and tried to coax him upright. Nothing came of her pleading or insisting.
After nearly two hours, she stood and started pacing around the room. She felt as though everything was unraveling at the seams. Her life, her friends, and even her freedom, all of them were slowly evaporating.
She ended up sitting by the barred window and watched the horrendous rainstorm outside. She took a deep breath when a craggy-faced nurse came in with a syringe. Francoise checked on Jet, who seemed to be in a troubled doze. She slid into her own bed and let the nurse give her the powerful narcotic.
There would be no way she could survive on her own; she just had to wait for the right time, when they were all together again, to rebel. She had learned from her ballet training to have a goal and keep to it with determination. Now, her immediate goal in life was to escape with all of her friends.
/Aunt Katharina?/
/Yes, darling! Reach out. Keep walking. You're almost to me. Or what's left of my conscious./
He stumbled through the dense fog, making him feel a sensation as if he were clammy. It was impossible for him to actually feel anything because he was currently disembodied, traveling past Ann's slumbering consciousness. His feet felt as if they sank into something cold and soft. He kept moving towards the dim, yellowish hazy.
He stretched out his hand and ran towards her presence of churning emotions. /Auntie!/
His fingertips were caught, and then the the rest of him was swept up into a firm embrace with thin arms. He wrapped his arms around her emaciated projection of herself. She finally pushed him back slightly and looked him in the eyes.
Her large, soft, brown eyes gazed down at him. He was joyful to see she was still lucid. He could also sense happiness from her. What made him pause was her skin seemed paler than he remembered, she also seemed much thinner, and almost older.
"We're almost home, at least for the next couple of weeks," she said, taking his hand. He was surprised he could feel how icy her hand was. As they walked along the darkened mind-scape, he could see the seams where Ann's mind ended and his aunt's began. Ann's mind was a meadow with bright flowers, pastel clouds, and jewel-toned trees. The grass gradually gave way to worn and cracked flagstone covered in grime. Weeds grew between the two hard, cold flagstone.
The sky changed in gradients from peaceful blue with gentle clouds into angry purple and stormy. Rain didn't fall, but lighting and thunder cut across Katharina's darker mind-scape. Even the air felt heavier, stagnant, almost poisonous. As they walked further into the middle of Katharina's mind the flagstones gave way to a craggy patch of land that jutted upwards, revealing the ruins of a white, stone tower. It had a peacock colored dome on top and large arches engraved around the octagon structure.
/Is this where you live, Aunt Katharina?/
/This is all that's left of me... my conscious. Inside each of us physics is this type of home. It takes the shape of different buildings. Mine resembled St. Basil's Cathedral at one time. This is all that's left of me. You haven't reached your true potential so you don't know what your true, inner conscious looks like. Neither does Ann. She still too young for all of this./
/What does my mother's conscious look like?/
/St. Basil's as well, only one that stretches on forever with blood red spires that reach through the sky. Truly, a sight to behold./
Ivan squinted his eyes. He could see faint blue cracks along the one tower. There were also deep, glowing cracks in the sky and the ground. "Auntie, what are those lines?"
"Later, my darling. We have so much work to do and not much time."
Her voice was as mellow as he remembered before she grew insane. She seemed unconcerned about the details of conscious, and he sensed only a placidity from her mind, in spite of the stormy sky. It made Ivan nervous she was still quite mad.
"Come along," she beckoned him towards the tower. Ivan felt trepidation as they entered the over-sized, dark, wood door. He noted the carvings on it were all Orthodox iconography. The interior was forlorn and wrecked.
Not one piece of elaborate furniture remained intact, and not one painting, mirror, or book was left unscathed by some invisible fury that had long since gone. Cobwebs were everywhere, and the only illumination was from lit sconces on the wall.
"You know, sleep is a limitation imposed on us by our bodies. Your father has used it as a control mechanism over you."
"I know. There are times that I've been awake or asleep, for ten, almost thirteen, days straight."
"This must change for you. When you go back, you must start maintaining normal sleep cycles. It's the first thing you must do to start achieving balance."
"I understand."
"Good." She smiled at him. "Let's start with the small things. Telepathy is always the first manifestation of psychic abilities. I want you to pry the thoughts from my mind against the defense I've constructed."
"But I've done this a million times with Erika."
"Yes, but Erika isn't as creative as I am," Katharina said, her expression growing devious. Ivan smiled back, closed his eyes, and stretched his mind towards hers.
"Easy!" Ivan declared. "You are thinking about some American man named Sam Harrison. You are replaying a conversation about... leaving? Going to a place called Montana...?" Ivan's eyes flew open in surprise. "Is it true? You were going to leave Moscow at one time?"
"Yes, that was true, but that was an illusion meant to catch your attention. I crafted an emotional echo in my head. A loud one. Your telepathy picked up the first thing. You didn't get past it to my real thought. Try again."
He closed his eyes again and stretched his mind further. He pushed past her thoughts of Harrison's promises of Montana, and then her faint inner voice whispered /Your friends are doing well. So block out your worries about them./
"It's true. I keep worrying about them," Ivan admitted.
"I know, my darling, but rest assured, you'll see them again."
Ivan took a deep breath and nodded. "Auntie, how did you create the emotional echo? Also, who was that man?"
She gave a soft, charming laugh. "One thing at a time. I'll teach you how to throw off telepathy first, and then I'll tell you about Sam."
Albert became aware of his breathing first, then a throbbing in his right shoulder. He was startled to actually have a sensation there. It had been deadened so long. He opened his eyes in spite of the glare and blinked away the heaviness in his eyelids.
"Sit up, 004," Gaia ordered. Albert's instinct to rebel was suppressed; he wanted to sit up anyway in order to assess his situation.
He swung his legs over the edge of the surgical table and paused. His legs used to be almost totally metallic, but now, they were fleshy appearing almost to his knees. He touched the artificial flesh and realized he, once again, had sensation from his tights.
Then he examined his right hand. It was dark metallic again, but it was sleeker, more tapered. His left fingers traced upwards to where the metal stopped at his upper right arm. There was now artificial skin starting where his bicep used to be. His shoulder was now artificial skin, and malleable, and had feeling again.
"004, are you functional?" Dr Gilmore asked in tense concern. Albert looked over to where the man stood across the room, an expression of worry on his face.
"What did you do to me?" His voice was craggy and incredibly dry.
"We upgraded you. You now have a superior weapon system and some of your structure now is lighter weight and more durable. Now, you truly are a god of death," Dr Gaia gloated, a gleam coming to his beady eyes.
Albert stared down at his right hand and made a fist slowly. He could tell the response was more acute, faster by far. His old hand was clunky and awkward, but this was much different. Whatever changes they had made, Albert had the sinking feeling his body was more lethal now, regardless of his wishes or his humanity.
"Get up! It's time to test you!" Dr Gaia ordered.
"No," Albert answered softly.
"Don't think we won't break you like we did 002!" Gaia raged.
Albert bit back his laughter. He knew they had hurt Jet a great deal, but they were far from breaking the boy. Jet's was too spirited to be broken easily. Still, Albert feared these men might be coming close. They had to get out of here soon before that happened. Or any further damage to his companions.
"Did you hear me? Get up or 002 and 003 will suffer you punishment!" Dr Gaia threatened. Albert slid off the table, glaring at the man. What he wouldn't risk was the idea of the Black Ghost inflicting more harm on Jet or Francoise to get him to comply.
"What do you want me to do?" he choked out bitterly.
Gilmore handed him a green uniform like the one before. Albert started pulling on his new uniform. He tied on the deep read scarf and looked at them expectantly.
"There is an obstacle course you must run. After that, you can see the others." Dr. Gaia said.
Ivan felt the powerful mental blow to his head, then stomach, right before Katharina sent him flying miles into Ann's mind-scape. He plunged into a quiet pond and clawed his way back to the surface. He reached the surface again and swam to the edge. Katharina hovered above the edge with concern. This was his twenty-eighth visit to this pond in such a manner. Now he was starting to get embarrassed over throwing Jet in the English Channel with telekinesis. Okay, not really all that embarrassed.
"Are you okay, my darling?"
"I deserved that for something I did to my friend, so please don't apologize," Ivan said, flopping on the grassy bank beside the pond.
"I didn't want to hit you that hard. Telekinesis is your mother's strength, and I'm afraid you have to be prepared for her tricks. She's very cunning with how she uses it."
"She never fights fair," Ivan agreed, slicking back his damp hair. "I know she's also developed methods to kill a person's body with it, like causing strokes and seizures, even stopping hearts with a thought."
"Yes, it's very repugnant," Katharina said in heavy sorrow.
"Do you know how to do that, Auntie? Assassinate people with telekinesis?"
"No, I never developed my telekinesis to that point. I never could take a life as callously as she could. That's why I opened my mind more towards other abilities."
Ivan nodded. "I understand. I never want to kill anyone. That's why I wanted to leave the Black Ghost in the first place."
"I know, my darling, I also sense you're experiencing some regret now. What is it?"
"I've severed a psychic link between a set of identical twins that were trying to bring me back here. I did it out of pure malice. Sometimes the screams from their minds haunt me. I feel as though I killed them with my abilities. It haunts me."
"Was it in defense?"
Ivan reluctantly nodded to her question. Her expression seemed troubled.
"You know, once there is a tear in a person's mental fabric, it can't be healed, just held together for a short while. From now on, you must be cautious when defending yourself. Always find the least response to a threat. If you give yourself over into a rage again, you could end up committing murder or dooming a person to a life of torturous insanity."
Ivan nodded in earnest, fighting back his sorrow and guilt. Ivan said, numbly, "I guess we should try again. I failed and I keep failing. I have all this power, but I can't even save the people I care about. What good is?"
"You're learning about life and you're growing up. Control over your power comes with that."
They traveled back to Katharina's mindscape and walked towards the tower. Ivan couldn't help but notice the thin blue lines running through his aunt's mindscape had widened slightly over the last few days. He stooped down as she walked on; he reached out and touched one of the glowing fractures.
He jumped to his feet at Katharina's scream. He ran over in time to catch her before she crumpled to the flagstones. He brushed long, whitish-gold hair off of her oval face and was surprised to see azure veins running under her translucent skin. Her deep brown eyes were in pain.
/Katharina!/
Her large eyes fluttered open, and then she brushed her hand across his cheek. /Remember, Ivan, once there is a tear in a person's mental fabric, it can't be healed, just held together for a short while./
Dread hit Ivan as he helped Katharina to her feet. The glowing blue lines seem to recede some, but her words remained stuck in his mind.
To be continued.