Not Even Bad Dreams Are Made In This
The detective was trying to get some sleep, but he couldn't. Memories, painful recollections has been woken up inside his head.
It was four years ago. One year earlier he married his high school sweet-heart, and now they were expecting their first child. It supposed to be the happiest time of his life, but it turned out to be the most horrible.
With all the workload, investigating after The Mad-man, the detective had very little time left to spend with his family recently. But now Mr. and Mrs. Gadget arrived for a long visit to the house of the detective's parents. He hoped to get support from them for his very pregnant wife. Of course, Jules and Annie were keen to help; but the family's – for the time being – youngest member seemed to be the happiest. The policeman's brother was very excited to have his idol around; he never got bored hearing his elder brother's stories about his work and missions. And the detective was very talkative, the young boy's interest and rapture flattered his vanity, to be honest. He kept telling his tales about The Mad-man.
Young Gadget would've like to hear more of them once again, when he entered his brother's room that night.
"You are a big boy now, 13 years old," said Mrs. Gadget, who rather wanted to be alone with her husband. "I'm sure you can sleep without a bedtime story."
"That's ok, darling" the detective responded. "Just a short one."
The boy made himself comfortable on the bed and the tale began. But young age and tiredness took the better of the lad soon, and he fell asleep. Not wanting to disturb him or wake him up by taking him back to his own room, Mr. and Mrs. Gadget settled to move into another room. Fortunately there were enough of them in the house. But as long as they were up, they decided to go for a romatic walk in the warm summer night first.
They sneaked out from the house on tiptoe, to gaze the moon on the clear, starry sky. Two young people in love, they noticed nothing on the world around them; they talked about the approaching arrival of their baby and had a romantic chit-chat generally.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the building, – as investigation later revealed – a black clad figure stood back against the wall. A black shadow in the black night, the character sneaked undetected to one of the windows on the ground level. The panes were wide open in the pleasant, mild weather. It was the young couple's room. The figure dropped a small package inside, pulled the panes to close and quickly disappeared into the darkness again.
With very small hissing, the device released a green cloud of smoke, which began filling the room. The gas was obviously heavier than air, because it didn't fill the space evenly, but stayed on the bottom part of the room. Yet its level raised swiftly.
Like sinister snakes, the gas wreathed into the sleeping boy's nostrils. The heavy, but not unpleasant, rather sweetish scent woke him up. He saw the green fog hanging in the air in the moonlight, he wanted to spring up, but as he tried to move, it felt like he lost control of his muscles. His arms and legs seemed to twist, like they were made of butter melted on the hot sun. He tried to cry for help, but his jaw disobeyed him. He couldn't do anything, but to lie and watch the whirling green smoke engulf him.
When the detective and his wife returned from their walk, he immediately noticed the green smoke filtering through beneath the door. He was scared to death when he torn the door open, but that was the move that saved his brother's life. The heavy fog flowed out on the opening, swirling around their legs, like green serpents.
The man ran to the bed, only to find his young brother moveless.
"Bro! Speak to me!"
He grabbed him and shook him. But the boy's body felt strange, it folded, like he was made of rubber; it felt like holding soft sponge in his hands. A thin streak of blood streamed forth from the boy's mouth.
"Call an ambulance, quick!" the man shouted and his wife, who was rooted to the spot until now, ran to the phone.
As if the next minutes were erased from the detective's memory; or were they just too hectic to remember them? Only incoherent pictures appeared in his mind. Paramedics rushing, feet stamping, red and blue lights flashing, a siren screaming, tearing apart night's silence, and blurred images of black buildings along the city's streets dashing in front of his eyes. Eventually, the darkness is replaced by blinding whiteness. The whitewashed walls of a hospital, neon tubes with strong, cold, white light and doctors, wearing white uniforms hastening to and fro.
The detective strolled about helplessly on the sterile, unfriendly corridors. He knew it was his fault, he was the target; his brother was an innocent victim, his only sin was merely being at the wrong place at the wrong time.
The man couldn't get the boy's not-too-handsome, but kind face out of his mind. He just realized, he didn't considered the lad as a brother recently, but much more as a fan of his. He enjoyed his admiration, like his colleagues' at the police station. He wanted to rush in the ward, hug his brother and tell him, how much he loves him, but only impotent bitterness was growing inside him.
A surgeon exited the ward.
"Doctor, how is he?" the detective's voice was full of anxiety.
The man removed his mask and answered with sympathizing, yet business-like manner.
"He's alive at the moment..."
"Thanks God!" the detective let out a big sigh of relief.
"But don't have illusions, there is not much of a chance for him to survive, I'm afraid. I have no idea what was that, that could cause such damage. Like all the calcium of his skeleton has been dissolved, the bones lost their rigidity."
"The Mad-man has very destructive arsenal."
The doctor hasn't had the faintest idea what is the man talking about, but he didn't bother. People may drivel after a shock. He continued:
"Whatever substance it is, it effects the muscles also; it breaks down the biological structure of the fibres, yet in a much slower rate. Fortunately, he hasn't been exposed to the gas long enough to take full effect; he retained parts of his muscular system, but what he has left, will be too weak to operate the body properly."
"But you can do something about it, right?" the detective demanded. He wanted to cherish hopes.
"I'm afraid we can't. There is no way we can have the bones and muscles re-grow."
"Can I speak with him?"
"That is not possible at the moment, we keep him in induced coma right now…" The doctor took a deep breath. "Sir, in my opinion, we should just let him sleep, if you understand what I mean…"
"You want to kill him?!"
"My job is to save his life, he won't be killed. I just recommend to turn off the machines and he sleeps on without any pain… Please consider the situation! That would be the best for everybody, including your brother. He can not be cured. Never. Without his bones, he is unable to move, and his body will squash under its own weight. And due to the damaged muscles, his heart and respiratory system may fail any minute. Then he won't be able to breath and suffocate. That's the most malicious part of the stuff. It doesn't effect the nerves, the victim is conscious and has no choice but to lie helpless and clearly experience every moment of the agony."
"No! You must keep him alive!"
"But that is no life. Even if we were able to keep him alive, that would only elongate his suffering. He won't be able to move anymore, just lie in a hospital bed, dependent on machines. One replaces the respiratory system, others provide blood-circulation; he won't be able to eat, chew or swallow by himself. He must be nourished artificially, until his day of death, which even he will regard as salvation, I'm sure."
Despite the surgeon's dissuading words, one of them lit a light of hope in the detective's head. Very faint and glim, but a hope.
"You said machines?… Do your best to keep my brother alive!"
He dashed to find a phone… A name came into his mind, the name of a man, who worked at the police lab; and – among many other fields of research – was the leading scientist of cybernetics and bionics: Professor von Slickstein.
The detective compelled himself to break the train of his thoughts. He turned onto his other side in the bed, and wanted to catch some sleep. But the memories refused to give in, they continued to show in his mind's eye.
The incident has effected his wife also. Due to the excitement, her delivery commenced a couple of days early. Another – or to be exact: two more – members of the family to be anxious for. Fortunately, she was already in the hospital with the rest of the family, so doctors could attend her immediately, and she gave birth to a healthy child. But even this happiness, to experience the small wonder of birth, was poisoned by the concern about the boy.
The detective refused to take some time off from his job, which Chief Quimby recommended. He wanted to apprehend the assassin responsible for the tragic event, but the investigation didn't make any headway. Not as he had any doubt who was the mastermind behind the attempt, it was clearly The Mad-man's way to send a word: 'You are getting too close to my domain'; but the culprit, who dropped the infernal machine into the house with own hands, – despite all the efforts of the whole police squad – has eluded him. He was simply too strained to focus on his work.
Professor von Slickstein have worked for weeks, labouring day and night, before the Gadgets were allowed to enter his lab. Spotless, whitewashed walls; flickering screens of monitors, showing performance graphs; scent of antiseptic floating in the air; and evil-looking tools and spare parts scattered all over the place. The small bed almost vanished among all the equipment.
When he finally spotted the gleaming of the black eyes among the turban of bandages on the boy's head, the detective rushed to him. (His wife pulled out from the trip, alluding to her recent confinement.)
"Hello, brother! I'm so happy to see you!"
He was truly delighted to see the boy's face again. He was smiling even!
"Wowsers, big bro! I'm happy to see you too! Thank you for saving me!"
"Oh, don't mention it! How are you?"
After repenting in the hospital, the detective was determined to prove the best brother in the world.
"I'm great! Look what I can do! Go-go Gadget-arms!"
Two hands appeared from underneath the blanket and winded around the detective's body on some telescopic arms. The man shuddered at their touch.
"What is this, professor?" he asked, while trying to shake off the creepy hug.
"Oh, I have built my dreams into him."
"Are you out of your mind? What have you done to my brother?" he was getting more and more tense, partialy because he was worried by what happened to his brother, and mainly due to the disturbing feeling of the eerie arms.
"I always thought about enhancing a human being with mechanical parts. I wrote many articles about it, but never thought I'll find someone, on whom I can attempt it."
"My brother is not a guinea pig" said the detective, being somewhat at ease, because the weird, metallic serpents retracted from him. "I asked you to help him to live a normal life, not to experiment with him!"
"But look at the bright side: he may not only live a full life, but he is capable of much more than that. Your brother has abilities well beyond of any human being. It's state of the art technology. He is my masterpiece."
"But I don't want a mechanical masterpiece, I want my brother!"
"But I'm here! I'm your brother" said the boy slightly alarmed. He didn't understand why his brother has an aversion to him so suddenly. He wanted to do something nice to him. "Go-go Gadget-flowers!"
The welding-torch emerging from among the bandages on the boy's head almost burned the detective's face; he was saved only by his quick reflexes.
"Err… some fine tuning still has to be made" apologized von Slickstein. "All appliances are wired to the central neural network, so your brother may issue direct commands to them via his nerves, but their use must be practiced, of course."
He lifted the blanket and started adjusting something under the boy's skin with a tool, while explaining to him.
"Ok, as I said, do not concentrate on what action you want the device to do, just focus on the task you want it to complete… Just like you do with your limbs. If you want to lift a mug, you don't direct your arm to reach out, your fingers to close around it and so on. You just decide what you want to achieve and your hand obeys. It's the same thing with your add-ons. Just think on the goal. It's much easier if you speak out loud 'go-go Gadget' and the name of the appliance, it helps to focus."
The sight of wires and metal parts protruding from his brother's body and the professor's tampering in there, caused an indisposition for the detective. He shut his eyes. Von Slickstein spotted the man's condition.
"Well, there is still lots of work to be done. When we're finished, there will be no signs left on the body surface."
But the boy noticed his brother's behaviour also.
"Are you afraid of me?" he asked on a low voice.
The detective reminded himself of his woe and forced himself to open his eyes and look at his brother.
"No" he uttered the word hardly, while trying to put on a brave face. But he failed to hide his feelings from the boy, they beset his face.
"I'm your brother" said the boy almost entreating.
"I know, I know…" the detective's reply came on a calming voice; but it was more meant for himself, than for his brother. The boy pulled a crying face.
"Do you still love me?"
"But of course" the detective answered without hesitation, but he knew he's lying. And maybe his brother felt it too.
He took a deep breath when he finally got out from the distressing room.
Jules sat next to his son in the living room of the Gadgets' house.
"Don't worry, he will recover."
The detective was dejected.
"Would you say, I'm a bad man, if I were to hope, that he does not?"
The father observed silence.
"Have you seen him, Dad?"
The detective caught his father's eye for a moment. He felt embrassed, he knew well that Jules and Annie visit their son every day. He continued quickly:
"I mean, have you seen him for real? He is some sort of a weird robot now, not a human… I feel like doctor Frankenstein: it's a monster and I have created it. Maybe I should've let him die, rather than render him into a walking-talking toaster." He was much more talking for himself now, not to his father. "Maybe I should ask the professor to turn it off. He will protest, of course; it is his greatest experiment, he says, but it isn't right… It just isn't natural… It's a machine…"
"He is still your brother, and he always will be" his father interrupted him, emphasizing the pronoun. "No matter what his body is made from, he is a Gadget. What's really important, that is in here, and that never changes." The man laid his hand on the left side of his elder son's chest. Of course, he was wrong if anyone were to interpret his words literally; the muscles of boy's heart have been destroyed also, complex mechanics and electronic circuits have replaced them; but the detective understood the meaning.
"Go and see him again, please!" the father beseeched. "For my sake."
"No, I'm not visiting him for your sake or for my sake" the detective stood up determined. "I visit him for his own sake; because he's my brother and because he needs me."
The detective even induced his wife to accompany him. The professor's lab was exactly as disturbing as last time, but Gadget didn't bother now. He was interested only in the person lying in the bed and was happy to see the delight in the warm, black eyes.
"It's so good to see you again, big bro!"
"It's good to be here, little bro!" he said and he spoke it honestly this time. "How are you?"
"I'm fine, thank you. And the professor says I'm improving day by day. Just as my gadgets; I can use them better and better..." A startling feeling came over him. He remembered his brother's last visit and his antipathy of his gadgets. He continued quickly: "But I have asked him to remove them."
He had doubts recently. First he found his new 'toys' fun, but now he wasn't sure about them anymore. As a matter of fact, he wasn't sure about anything now; if he wanted to live like this at all. Especially since he saw his brother's reaction of terror and loathing last time. He wasn't a quitter by any means; on the contrary, he was persistent and steadfast, the type who went on to the bitter end, yet this time, somewhere in the abyss of his mind – so deep inside, that he was reluctant to admit even for himself –, he hoped that he won't survive the removal of his gadgets and he won't have to live on as a mechanical monster.
"Well, the additional devices can be resected, if he wishes, leaving only the structural elements and life supporting machinery" von Slickstein's voice betrayed that he's not keen on the idea. "Also, the muscles' mechanical enhancement has to stay, to help the motion of the body…"
"I'm glad to hear that you feel better. And there is no need to remove the gadgets, if you don't want. They might come handy one day" said the detective with a genuine smile.
"For example when I become a policeman, like you?" The grin returned to the boy's face.
"I'm sure you will become a detective one day. But now look who came to visit you; the newest member of our family!"
He lifted a small bundle out of a bassinet, not caring about his wife's disapproving look. From among the wrappings, a pair of big, greenish eyes were prying out to the world. The boy felt like a refreshing breeze has came into the lab's sterile, but sluggish air.
"Meet our daughter! Her name is Penelope Gadget."
"Hello, Penelope!… Wowsers! She's the cutest angel I have ever seen!" the boy admired the baby. "May I hold her?"
"Yes." "No!" the parents' answers came simultaneously. But as the father held her, he handed the small package over to his brother carefully. The boy didn't use the extending capabilities of his arms, he held the precious little thing with unpracticed hands, but with much caution. The detective tried not to look into his wife's eyes, which were blazing with anger.
Little Penny wasn't more than two months old, babies of that age can not distinguish people; she didn't mind whoever held her. She nestled herself in the boy's arms. His big nose seemed to grab her attention, one of the small hands reached for it.
She had fair colored hair, like every baby, which is likely to grow darker with age. However, her mother a blonde, Annie Gadget and her father being brunet, while every other male Gadgets black-as-can-be, it was hard to tell which color the girl's hair will turn out to be definitively. Likewise, her eyes were green now, just like her grandmother's, but they might turn to brown, like her father's, or just fade to blue, like her mother's, when pigmentation comes to balance with age; it was all up to the genes.
"Say hi to your uncle!" the proud father encouraged his daughter, like he earnestly thought that she can.
"She's so adorable!" The boy wasn't able to take his eyes off her. His bones and muscles were gone, but his senses were working perfectly: the sparkling of those big eyes looking up to him, the little, babbling 'words', the warmth of the small body, the softness of her touch, the delicate feel of the fragile, just-beginned life gave him tremendous joy, which he never felt before and wasn't able to explain. He was happy for his brother and sister-in-law; and to meet this lovely baby seemed to make the whole world a beautiful place. A place, that's worthwhile to stay. As if by magic, all his doubts vanished; he was positive that he must carry on, no matter what, and protect this gorgeous, vulnerable little child and every defenceless child of the world from the forces of evil.
"We must go now!" declared Mrs. Gadget firmly and snatched the baby from the mechanical hands. But the move just pulled out the telescopic arms, she had to yank on the swaddling-bands to free her daughter from the boy's hands eventually. The baby-girl didn't like the tug-of-war, she cried out weeping.
"Go-go Gadget baby soother!"
The detective's blood ran cold for a moment. But his fear was groundless this time. No mallet or jack-hammer appeared, but the requested pacifier, which was manouvered into the little girl's mouth skilfully by a yellow-gloved hand.
"I think we still have some time…" the detective was relieved by the successful usage of the gadget. He tried to persuade his wife to change her mind, but she was unyielding and didn't pay any attention to her husband.
"Pew, it's dirty!" she instructed her daughter, removed the soother from the small mouth and threw it in a waste bin. The crying resumed.
"I can assure you, ma'am, that everything here is perfectly hygenic" said von Slickstein slightly offended. "The nature of my job requires the highest standards to be maintained in the field of cleanness."
But the woman was gone by now with her sobbing baby. The detective followed his wife. He casted a last glance at his brother, and when he caught his sorrowful eyes, he felt shame burning on his face as he left the room.