Slight of Mind, Chapter 2
Déjà vu

Mac's Voice-over:
It starts with me waking up not knowing where I am. I'm having strange dreams—not that I haven't had strange dreams before!—but I'm usually a lights-on /lights-off sleeper. It wasn't like that this time. I wasn't quite awake yet, but I was aware that I was dreaming. I tried to remember what had happened to me…

A picture appeared in my head, as clear as a clean window; I saw myself arriving at Western R&D… saw paperwork stacked neatly on a desk… saw Clare and Eddie working through the glass... saw Pete working from two different points of view. I saw the argument, the accident… and then I saw myself fall. It was weird! How does a person remember losing consciousness and see themselves after they've collapsed? It was like I was watching it through someone else's eyes.

I struck a wall of confusion and fought my way over it, and found awareness on the other side.

Mac opened his eyes. He was stretched out under a blanket on a couch in an empty office. Too tall to fit on the couch, some thoughtful person had put a chair under his feet. Mac remembered draping a blanket over a long body and grumbling because it wasn't long enough to come up to his chin and cover his feet…

He shook his head sharply, wondering if he was still dreaming, and then he pushed aside both the blanket and the strange sensation of detachment. I'm just tired, he told himself, clapping one hand over his eyes. Sleep deprivation… that's all this is.

He hear the soft swish of a door opening. Mac heard Pete's voice clearly:

Mac! Are you feeling better?

"I'm fine, Pete… thanks for asking," Mac said as he sat up, still rubbing his eyes.

"I'm glad to hear it, Mac," Pete said, "but I hadn't actually asked… I was just about to."

Mac looked up at his friend and forced a smile. "I guess I just know you well enough to know what you're about to say."

"And I know you well enough to know that you'd say 'I'm fine' even if you were at death's door." Pete was wearing a worried smile. "How are you… really?"

Mac conducted an internal inventory. "I feel… fine. Really. I guess I just needed a few hours of shut-eye." Mac stretched and ran fingers through his hair; he wanted a shower and a shave, but other than that—"I'm still tired, but then again I just flew half-way around the world— for nothing, I might add—what time is it, anyway?"

"It's almost seven," Pete said. The look of concern had not left his face yet, but Mac chose not to notice.

"Seven o'clock! Don't tell me I slept all night! I couldn't have…"

"No, Mac," Pete said slowly, sitting down in the chair that had been supporting Mac's feet, "it's still today… you've only been asleep for about four hours."

"Ah." Mac sat back and looked at Pete. "What the hell happened to me?"

"We're not sure… but I want to get you to a doctor and have you checked out. Dr. Sonne said that the electro-radiation you were exposed to might have some side-effects." Pete looked closely at Mac's face.

Mac drew back a little, disconcerted. "What kind of 'side-effects'?"

"Well," Pete began to answer, but before he managed to phrase his thoughts aloud, Mac knew what he was going to say…

… And what was more, he knew the things that Pete didn't say!

"Dr Sonne is concerned about possible damage to your hearing and your eyes. He said that—for reasons he hasn't discovered yet—his machine produced way more electro-radiation than it was designed to produce. He said that people can be exposed to this radiation in a small level with no ill effects—but you absorbed about twenty times that amount. That's why you passed out, he said. He wanted to know if you are experiencing any pain or disorientation."

"Uh… not so far," Mac answered uncertainly. "What about that stuff in the bottle that Dr. Brooks threw at me?"

Pete frown deepened. "Er… we don't really know what it was. Dr. Brooks is reluctant to reveal the contents of her research… because I was preparing to pull her financial support, probably. She's not hysterical anymore, but she's being very uncooperative."

Mac looked Pete straight in the eye. "She thinks she's discovered the formula for ESP."

"Yes." Pete sighed. "She won't listen to reason. I've got a call in to the Phoenix lawyers, but…" Pete continued to talk, but Mac didn't listen. He didn't need to.

I know everything Pete is going to say… before he actually says it! I even know how Pete is feeling… right down to the soreness in his shoulder from when he had tried to force the airlock door open after he'd seen me collapse…

This was impossible! Mac didn't believe in mind-reading or precognition. Those were just parlor tricks… or at the very best common sense, logic, and good guesses.

But I could feel my/Pete's shoulder hurting!

"Pete," Mac said, cradling his head in his hands to conceal his own concern, "I want to go home."

"I …"

"I'll go see a doctor tomorrow… after I get some more sleep. I still feel wiped out."

Pete looked uncertain. Mac already knew what he was going to say; he let him say it. "I'd feel better if you'd let someone take a look at you now. We have no idea what was in that beaker."

"Well, it wasn't Koolaid… but it wasn't acid either." Pete made a face at that, so Mac pulled out his shirttail and grinned. "And look… no stains!" Pete was not amused.

Mac sighed and stood up. "Don't worry, Pete! See? I'm up and 'at 'em' and no worse for wear. I just want to go home and eat something and get some more sleep."

"Well… if you promise to go and see the doctor tomorrow…" Pete finally relented.

"I promise, Pete.

⌂

Mac's Voice-over:
As soon as we got into his car, I slumped down as if to take a nap while Pete drove me home. I couldn't sleep, but I pretended. I didn't want to answer any more questions… or see more of Pete's concerned stares. My mind was racing with chaotic images, voices, and ideas. I struggled to clear my mind and managed to fall into a light doze.

When Pete dropped me off in the parking lot at the marina, I had to plead with him to go home—he can be such a grandmother sometimes!—and he finally did drive off after I repeated my promise and said that I'd see him tomorrow.

It was blissfully quiet on the water that evening. I walked sat on the deck of my houseboat and watched the city lights twinkling like stars on the invisible waters. That was the price of living in the City; no more star-watching. I experienced a pang of nostalgia for my old apartment in Griffith Observatory.

The glimmer and shimmer coming off of the waters soon brought on a headache. I figured that a little real food and a shower should chase it away, but it stayed with me. So I swallowed a few aspirin and crawled into bed. Everything would be better in the morning, I told myself.

I really wanted to believe that… but somehow a part of me knew I was going to be wrong.