Slight of Mind, ch 9
Tag—You're Toast!

Mac's Voice-over:
Alright, you caught me… when I told Clare that her ESP drug didn't work, I was exaggerating a little. Okay… okay… I was lying! I did believe that the whole telepathy thing was mostly logic and good guesses... but that didn't explain all the things that I felt… or the electrical phenomena that was once again beginning to plague me—I felt like a fresh sock just out of the laundry; my hair was sticking all up and my skin was tingling.

And if this drug—Starkoss called it the 'Petroski Serum'—if this serum worked on me, then it probably worked on other people, too. Brooks had experimented with the serum, therefore it was likely that Sonne had, also… and there was no guessing what tricks he'll be having up his sleeves. I had to be ready to face the unknown…and I wouldn't be lying to you when I say that I'd rather rely on myself and my over-used luck than some artificially induced electrical and chemical imbalance!

If Sonne had more of a grasp on telepathy than Brooks, then going after Catherine and John Jr. would be foolish…I'll lead them right to them! But on the other hand, if he can pre-cogitate… or prognosticate… or whatever they call it… he ought to know already where they were hiding.

Damn! I hate this! Second guessing is bad enough when you're the only one with access to your brain!

I derived some small comfort from the fact that, if I didn't know what was going on in my mind… good luck to anyone trying to read it; they'll be as confused as I am!

⌂

They had worked out a plan to uncover whoever at the Phoenix Foundation was leaking classified information; catching Clare Brooks so quickly had been a bonus. MacGyver hoped that Pete would find out something during her debriefing, but he felt that he couldn't wait for that information… he had to locate Catherine Kelly and make sure that she and her son were still safe.

And in order to do that, I'm going to have to rely on those artificially induced electrical and chemical imbalances," Mac thought sourly. "Great. Just great!"

Starkoss had been helpful; using his own talents, he had shown Mac the general area where he believed the poor woman and her son were in hiding. He couldn't be too specific, but once Mac got close, he too began to feel that odd pulling sensation… that hot-cold-hot, slippery vs. sandpapery feeling. Mac found this kind of navigation nerve-wracking and time-consuming, but it… felt… right; there was no other way to explain it. Mac just found himself hoping that he would make it on time.

A quiet suburban street led Mac away from more populated areas of the city, until his road ended in a cul-de-sac. There was only one house there, shrouded by the branches of oak and sycamore trees. It looked like any comfortable family home, but the sight of it made the hairs on the back of Mac's neck rise; he had found the place.

I got a feeling that I've been here before.

Mac parked the car and got out. The sky was clear and the weather soft, but over this familiar little house there was an air of expectance, such as one might feel just before or during a bad storm. He walked slowly, every sense he possessed—and ones he had recently acquired—screaming that he was walking into a trap.

It didn't take extrasensory perception to know that something was amiss. The little house was a sad sight; the iron gate on the white picket fence was broken and hung by one hinge; a tire-swing lay under a stout tree limb, the rope tangled and frayed. Near the fence was a doghouse with a chain rooted near by a stout peg driven into the ground.

Mac stepped over the low fence and examined the doghouse. It was empty. Mac let out a low, beckoning whistle but there was no response. The chain had been unfastened and dropped; Mac could find no sign of breakage. He ran the links through his hands, wondering if this was a good sign… that somehow Catherine and John Jr. had escaped.

A feeling of pressure against the right side of his face! Leaning sharply to the left, Mac let himself roll forward into a somersault as a sizzling bolt of electricity suddenly charred through the air and struck the doghouse. It exploded with ridiculous force, raining fragments of wood and green shingles onto the lawn.

Mac came up on his feet, moving fast to put the broad trunk of the oak tree between him and the source of the attack. He pressed his back against the comforting wood and called out, "Eddie! I thought that I might find you here."

"Where's Clare?" Eddie demanded.

"She's… with friends," Mac answered, looking around for something to defend himself with. "She wasn't feeling too good, I'm afraid."

"What did you do to her?" Eddie shouted. Mac chanced a peek around the tree to see try to see him, but ducked back quick as another crackling arc of blue-white energy speared toward him. It struck the tree and sent some bits of bark flying.

"Me? I didn't do anything to her. It's that serum that you guys have been developing… don't tell me you haven't noticed the side effects."

Eddie laughed. "I'll show you side effects, MacGyver!"

By the sound of his voice, Mac could tell the man was somewhere near the front of the house, but he didn't dare chance to take another look and get his head fried. Instead, he closed his eyes and concentrated, just as Starkoss had taught him.

Mac found that he could 'see' Eddie—not with his eyes but inside his head. It was a weird landscape of geometric shapes and spatial curves, and there was a bright, man-shaped figure about fifteen yards away. That figure, which Mac knew to be Eddie, seemed to pulse with energy, slowly growing stronger.

Eddie's thoughts came to him clearly, as if he'd spoken them in Mac's ear; 'I see you, too, MacGyver.'

This is so weird! Mac thought, and he backed away from Eddie's mind, opening his eyes to the world. He shifted against the tree, bumping his head on something.

Rubbing the back of his head, Mac looked up and saw a crude ladder—mere sawn chunks of two-by-four lumber that had been nailed into place long ago by the hands of an adventurous child—leading up through branches. Mac reached up to grasp the wood, hoping to utilize the advantage of 'higher ground'. But the planks were soft and rotten; they cracked and crumbled in his hands. He dropped back to the earth, staggering a little as he caught his foot on the length of dog chain.

An idea struck him, and he began gathering the chain into his hands.

⌂

Eddie Sonne relished the sensation that coursed through his limbs as he focused his power. Ever since he and Clare had begun testing their serum, he felt that he had grown more powerful—and more potent—every day. To him, it more than made up for the moments of weakness and sickness; the migraines and occasional nosebleed seemed but minor, pesky side effects. He willingly suffered these to wield his new powers… and practice his skills.

So what if he had to increase his treatments from weekly doses to a daily regime? So what if his other functions deteriorated slightly? He had new functions—functions that would garner him the respect and authority which he had long deserved… which he felt he had been denied as a scientist and a mere citizen.

When he thought about how he had labored—how he had struggled!—to achieve what he had accomplished so far… so much less than if he had been given what he needed in funds and materials by those fools who grudgingly extended their meager grants, as if they only desired an association with the genius of Eddie Sonne but cared nothing for results. Eddie was glad that he was through with such idiots; he felt that he was above them now.

John Kelly had come through with the cash. Kelly had desires—needs—that could not be met without Eddie's research. He had approached Eddie and Clare with generous offers of money and the use of top-notch facilities. In exchange, he asked only for what he believed to be the right of every husband and father.

Eddie did not know who John Kelly was; he didn't know about his crimes or about why his wife had left him… and he didn't care. Kelly was giving him everything he wanted… not just money, but purpose… and that was important. That was perhaps the most valuable thing.

So when John Kelly had asked Eddie for a favor—to take MacGyver out of his way—it seemed a just and reasonable request.

⌂

Blood that was now trickling down his face did not bother him; he was full of his own power and did not heed such limitations as physical inconveniences. Lightning gathered in his body, buzzing and humming powerfully in his hands; Eddie circled around the bole of the tree, ready to strike down the man cowering there.

But there was no one there! Eddie stopped suddenly, shocked. He circled around the tree, a look of disbelief seared on his haggard face. MacGyver was gone… disappeared without a trace!