Young Offender, Part 32:
"Oh, Ivan, I've missed you so much."
"But I don't understand what you're doing inside my subconscious."
"Your father took what was left of my brain and integrated it into this girl. In actuality, I'm in her head."
Ivan felt as if he'd had a blow to his stomach. He shook his head and asked, "So... you're..."
"Dead? My body won't last much longer. Neither will my mind. Soon, her mind will eclipse mine, and I'll cease to exist."
"Mother allowed this?"
"Reluctantly. She saw this as a way to give me new life. It was hard on her."
"She did it out of jealousy!" Ivan accused, the landscape rumbled slightly.
"Things are more complicated than that. Don't you see that Erika and Fyodr believe this is the best for you? They believe they are being good parents to you and a good caretaker to me. Only, they're ideologues. Their belief in creating a superior, next generation man comes into every facet of their thinking. Do you understand? It's not evil that drives them, but what they believe is in the best interest of mankind."
Ivan reluctantly nodded. He had always known that to be so. "It doesn't mean their results aren't evil. It's an abomination to kidnap people and mutilate them. It must be stopped."
"You're right, Ivan. That's why I'll help you escape, but, one day, please look a little kinder on your parents."
Ivan shook his head after several long seconds. "I will never do that. To ask that of me is so cruel. But please, help me get my friends out now. They're in horrible danger."
"Not now. You must wait three months."
"Why?"
"Because I had a premonition," she answered, her charming, calm smile caused Ivan to shiver.
"That final ability... mother told me that's what drove you mad... precognition... she asked father to make sure I never developed it. She feared I'd become like you... uncontrollable..." he murmured.
"It's true with the gift comes unbearable torment. I can't describe the agony of seeing the future and not acting on it. Madness and precognition go hand-in-hand, and the burden was too great for me. But for you, when it starts happening, you'll have the mindset in place to handle it."
"I'll develop it? I have to stop it! I can't even handle my empathy. How could I ever hope to master precognition? Impossible!"
"Hush, my Ivan," she ordered softly, "You can no more stop developing precognition than you can stop the moon moving through space, but be comforted that it won't happen for a very long time."
"Now what? What about my friends? Do you know what's happening to them now?"
"Yes, they are being upgraded. That's why you must wait three months. They are all in pieces. When you leave, the three of you will be powerful enough to fend off the Black Ghost for forty more years. Then... something will occur..."
"Aunt Katharina, what will happen to us?"
"I cannot tell you because you must not have that knowledge now. Now do you see the torment of it all?"
"I see. It's necessary to stay here." Ivan took a deep sigh and nodded. He couldn't help but feel he was betraying them by not trying to escape sooner. "Fine. In the meanwhile, I need you to help me avoid..."
"...becoming what I've become?"Ivan felt a flush to his cheeks as a the stagnant air stirred slightly. She gave a warm smile and embraced him again. "I will do what I can, my nephew. It's my destiny to help you put away your childish ways and the temptation of succumbing to the voices."
"Voices?"
"You'll hear them, too, when you develop the final gift."
Francoise's heart started to thud as she backed against the the wall. The scientist with curly, light hair strolled in with a bright smile. She couldn't keep her trembling under control, nor her anger.
"003, it's been so long. You're as lovely as ever."
"Who are you?" she asked, afraid to take her eyes off the strange scientist in favor of Jet. The New Yorker was still being operated on.
"I'm Dr Uranus. I was your original doctor when you first came to us."
"You horrible monster!" Her rage and fear where overwhelming.
The man looked troubled as he walked forward. "Please, it's not like that, my dear. You're so beautiful. Anger doesn't suit someone as fair as you. Don't you understand? I was one of your followers. You were so very fair that I just had to preserve you."
"I don't understand!"
"I was the one who selected you. No one knows this, but I bribed the agents that were combing Paris for a test subject. They were under orders to take someone without family ties... someone... male. But I saw you..."
"What are you talking about? Saw me?"
"Yes! You were the lead in a performance two months before you were taken. I watched that night, and I'll never forget how wondrous you were. Your dancing touched me so deeply. That's why I needed to preserve you. Make you a cyborg. I chose you. The others can't brag like you. They weren't chosen. They were random men. You're so special. Now you're like a ballerina in a snow globe. Caught forever in perfection."
It truly struck her how mad all of these men in the Black Ghost were. He walked over slowly and reached a hand towards her golden hair draped on her shoulder. She screamed, causing Dr Uranus to flinch back.
A disturbance across the hallway caught their attention. Francoise was utterly shocked to see Jet's arm fling in the air, breaking the restraint. He was trying to drag himself away from all the medical paraphernalia against the four doctors trying to push him back.
"No! Jet! Don't! They'll hurt you!" Francoise lunged for the open cell door towards Jet.
"Don't you dare go to him!" Doctor Uranus shouted from behind her.
Suddenly, it felt as if a jolt of lightning hit her back. She hit the floor. Soon, she was in a deep sleep.
When Albert woke back up, he felt heavy and numb. He turned his head and looked around. It was the same dormitory he, Jet, and Francoise had stayed in right before they had escaped the. Only, he was alone now and without his legs and right arm.
He could tell it was night from the barred window across the room. He tried to push himself upright, but couldn't manage. He'd never felt so helpless in his life. Even when he was a teenager and learned of his father's death and then months later, his mother's. He had not felt this vulnerable. Part of his flesh was gone, the most basic thing a human possessed.
The door opened, giving a harsh light from the hallway. He shivered, seeing Jet supported between two guards. There was something horribly wrong with Jet. His shoulders were slumped, and he kept his face towards the floor. Albert could almost feel the shame rolling off of the New Yorker.
"What happened?" Albert asked softly. There was no response.
The guards shoved Jet into the dark room. Jet stumbled towards his original bed, knelt beside it and buried his head among the covers. Albert controlled and humbled himself so he could ask in a deferential tone to the guards, "Please tell me what happened."
One of the guards answered in an almost contrite voice, "They took the blueprints of the acceleration deceive, and then they wired his jaw shut. He caused way too much trouble, and it keeps his acceleration device sealed."
Albert was shocked at the vile news. He murmured a 'thank you' before the guards left. "Jet, come here. Please."
All Albert could see was a shaking shadow hunched at the bed's side. "Don't be so stubborn. I can't come to you," he said softly. Jet gradually stood and walked over towards Albert's bed. He could now see Jet's bruised and swollen lips. Jet sank to his knees beside Albert's bed; he had never once seen Jet look so subjugated. Albert felt sick to his stomach at the haunted look in those brandy-colored eyes.
"I have no hope I can offer you," Albert explained as he squeezed Jet's shoulder with his remaining hand.
Jet's hand grabbed Albert's. The grip was firm. Then Jet's head sank to the edge of Albert's bed as he started to tremble.
"I know. I feel the same: anger, fear, hate. At least they let us stay together. That's something."
Jet nodded. That's when Albert began thinking back to another redhead in his life. His fingers combed through Jet's tangled spikes and came to rest on the back of the younger man's neck. Jet gave him a baffled expression.
"Stay close to me... and I know it won't do any good... but please... I beg you... don't antagonize them any more. I'm afraid of what they might do to you next," Albert pleaded in German, his head too fuzzy to speak any other language coherently.
He was amazed to see Jet nod. Jet's head sank; his forehead came to rest on the back of Albert's hand. Albert pulled his hand away and laid it on Jet's shoulder; he gingerly kneaded, there were no words he could offer to alleviate such an atrocity, just kindness.
Albert felt Jet stir under his hand. He raised his head to see Jet had stayed by the side of his bed, but on the floor. Jet was now looking, more like glaring, at the door to the dormitory. Albert looked over to see a scientist with curly, short hair carrying Francoise in his arms. She was totally limp and wrapped in voluminous, thick, blue sheets they used on their surgical tables.
Albert couldn't make out many details, but he could see her eyes were wrapped in gauze. He could also tell, in the dim light from the hallway, that there were some dark bumps on her bare arms and shoulders. Albert clenched his hand tight on Jet's shoulder and shook his head. He felt Jet relax slightly, as the man laid Francoise in her original bed. The scientist brushed back her dingy hair from her face.
The scientist turned to them and walked over to the foot of Albert's bed. He cleared his throat and said, "Don't think about planning another escape. You are being watched very carefully now."
"Who are you?"
"Doctor Gregory Uranus, at your service."
"Well, Herr Doktor, what happened to Francoise?"
"003 is such a lovely young woman. I was very excited to be able to finish my designs on her. I've started the process of enhancing her skin. The sensors I've implanted will start taking effect in a few days. They'll bury themselves, and she'll have a normal appearance once again. Unfortunately, it may cause her some pain while this process occurs, but I have her on morphine right now."
"Morphine?" Albert spat out, angered because he knew how addictive it was.
"Same as you." A wave of revulsion hit Albert as he realized why he felt so slow and drained.
The doctor shook his head and continued, "We realized we made some mistakes last time. For example, we need to make you more comfortable. As long as you cooperate, we'll make you comfortable." Doctor Uranus then looked down at Jet and said, "When you've learned your lesson, we'll alleviate your pain too."
Albert turned to look at Jet. His eyes were, indeed, watery and bloodshot. He hadn't noticed it before, but Jet's face was so incredibly pale and tense. Jet shook his head and a new determination came to the surface. Albert knew Jet would rather suffer than admit defeat and submit to addictive drugs.
"The least you could do is unwire his jaw," Albert said. "It has to be hurting him a lot."
"Yes, but he's annoyed everyone here with his mouth, not to mention biting Dr Yana's hand so hard it gave him nerve damage. The man may never operate again. No, he needs a vivid object lesson. Anyway, like I said, we're correcting the mistakes we made with all of you."
"Like?" Albert asked.
"You'll find out soon enough. I'll be back tomorrow morning to check on 003." Doctor Uranus turned and left. After the door was shut, only the light of the moon illuminate the dormitory.
Albert nudged Jet and asked, "Can you check on Francoise?"
Jet nodded and stumbled over towards her. Albert watched Jet tuck Francoise under several covers and look over her arm. After he was finished, Jet walked around the room and found something over at the desk by the door where a nurse or guard used to sit. He came over and sat beside Albert.
"Paper and pen? Good. What did you see?"
Jet had the pen in a clenched fist, he was so shaky, but he managed to scrawl a few words and handed it to Albert. Albert tried to concentrate, knowing Jet could only write in English. What made it difficult was Jet's atrocious spelling on top of the jagged handwriting.
"She has things on her skin, and she's running a fever? Okay. You need to try to get some rest."
Jet slid down off Albert's bed. Albert rolled over slightly to see Jet curl up on the cold tile floor. Albert set aside the paper and pen, let his left hand drop off the side of his bed, and rested it on Jet's head. Albert's final conscious thought was how coarse Jet's hair was compared to Hilde's, in spite of the same coloring.
Jet's sleep was fitful. The pain from his gums and the noxious, dryness kept him from totally drifting off. He couldn't even get the relief of smacking his lips together. This nightmare still wasn't real. All he remember was one of them trying to touch Francoise's hair.
He heard her scream and came around to kill who ever was hurting her. He was fought by the man cutting into to him, so Jet did the only he could do to get past the man. He bit him. The rest was a horrific blur of a drill being placed in his mouth.
He didn't want to leave Albert's side for one moment when he realized they took his legs and arm. But there was more. The German's hand on his head was the only thing keeping him sane at the moment, keeping him from running wild and and trying to tear apart everything in his sight.
He wanted to scream so badly it hurt his stomach. Yes, the Black Ghost was determined to break him, but Jet had already been through so much growing up. He knew he could survive this, too. He just had to dig deeper than he ever had. He wanted to talk to Albert, tell him his fears, because Albert was the first person he felt he could let down his guard and get some of his burdens off his mind. Also, Jet hated to admit it, but Albert gave out great advice, too. Jet knew Albert understood he didn't want to leave his bedside, just from his touch.
He curled his fingers around Albert's, a little afraid of how the gesture would be taken, but Albert was in a deep sleep, just like Francoise. He was really afraid the Black Ghost would hook Francoise and Albert on so much dope there would be no redemption. After all, he'd seen what heroin could do to people in his neighborhood.
Also, there was no sign of Ivan or his lunatic parents. Jet was worried they were trying to twist Ivan right at that moment, and Jet wasn't so sure Ivan was stable enough to resist them. All Jet could do was hope Ivan could manage on his own, in the meanwhile, he'd try to make Francoise and Albert as comfortable as possible.
His fingers tightened around Albert's as he tried to push away the sensation of uselessness. It was the same thing he had felt when he was a small child and his parents were drunk and at their most volatile. Jet committed his life then and there, if even had to die doing it, he'd see the Black Ghost gone from the planet.
/It's time to wake up, Ivan. Remember, be pliant to their request for now, but don't let them suspect we talked./ Katharina stood and faded away in a golden haze. He looked down to the small girl. Ivan held his hand over the girl's forehead and gently pushed her from his mind; she faded out in a blueish fog.
He stood and looked around his desolate mind-scape. The dim bog had an eerie loneliness, but he knew each person was truly alone within the mind. How he wished it wasn't so. He closed his inner eyes and left, his feet tingling. Gradually, he sank downwards through cold and darkness.
The first thing he was conscious of was the serial, antiseptic smell of his father's lab. He opened his eyes to see his parents at the foot of the operating table. They were each wearing anxious expressions.
"Ivan! Oh thank goodness; I was beginning to worry," Erika said, coming around and grabbing his right hand. He turned his head to the left to see the girl, who looked twelve years old, was still asleep. Ivan knew she wouldn't come around for a few more minutes.
"Son, what happened? Why were you unconscious so long?" Fyodr asked.
He looked towards his father and shook his head. "I don't remember. The girl knocked me out. She's too powerful."
"Nonsense," Fyodr responded. "You were just being sloppy."
"Don't be hard on the boy, Fyodr," Erika said, helping Ivan sit upright. "Come with me, and I'll get you something to eat."
"Thank you... mother," Ivan said, barely able to force the words out.
To be continued.