JMJ

Chapter Thirteen

Light Casting

"We'll try to make this as painless as possible for you," Utonium promised.

"Just as long as it's quick, Utonium," I whispered. "I don't care if it hurts."

"Well, the exam will be quicker and more painless than the ride here," assured Utonium with a smile far more confident. "Then I can decide for sure how to enact the cure, which, although will probably take time, I'm afraid, it won't be very painful, and it will be more private than where you are right now."

I still felt like I was at the bottom of a hole. It was hard for me to muster up to his enthusiasm but after a squirm, I relented with a nod.

So they had me step into some washing machine-looking contraption. Inside was like a cramped elevator, but once I was settled the size was forgotten. There was a sort of lava lamp swirl that probably got more psychedelic as the sound picked up but Utonium told me to close my eyes. Through my eyelids there was a lot of flashing though and a little prickling sensation. That had my body reacting a little like the mush it really was. I could feel it pulling towards the sides, but I regained shape after it was over.

Then, a little dizzy but otherwise perfectly fine, I stepped out. I was seated on a chair with a slice of toast and a cup of some nasty green stuff Utonium called tea (apparently meant to keep calm and alert).

All I can say is it sure woke me up some with its springtime nastiness and natural caffeine. A tight grimace after the first swallow had me clacking the roof of my mouth as the flavor settled down. I swirled the drink around then while I waited for my results to come through. Out of boredom or maybe just hoping that if it tasted that bad it would be good for something medicinally, I sipped it now and again with a wrinkled nose. It seemed to get better as it went along or maybe I just got used to it.

Utonium read my past to foretell my future like only a scientist could, but I didn't need any scientific auguring, just my inner street-wise savvy to read his face. I could tell by the amount of wrinkles on his forehead that even though he had not lost confidence, there was going to be some setbacks. I made my mental preparations for this as best I could as I sat back in my seat.

Utonium was very professional with me, and I appreciated that. It was funny the contrast with the laid-back surroundings. We could hear people talking behind us. Some college students passed by our door once or twice with a tour guide of some kind. A skylight let the sun pour in. It was almost blinding. It felt like I'd been in some sewer for ages only to suddenly find myself topside and disoriented by it. Even the warmth of it on my skin was kind of foreign to me, and I used to spend all day in the sun. It was like listening to hours to something all-consuming, tense and heavy and then suddenly have your headphone ripped off to the poise of natural sound again even with some quiet buzzing on and off beyond a wall. Another scientist was working in the same general area with some problem plant or something but paying no attention to us.

Though, I knew that the relaxed atmosphere had one precaution that kept tension from rising. If I did anything weird like shake too much or start transforming again, Utonium had the beam now. At any moment I could be contained again. I think he'd said something about the beam itself having properties that could solidify my cells for a while, but you can't quote me on that one. Utonium was also fairly confident that that tea stuff should keep me balanced enough to not jolt into the monster too soon for our consultation.

"I'm afraid that this would have been a lot simpler to cure," Utonium was saying grimly, "if they had not taken extra measures to bind their new Chemical S to you."

"Yeah." I paused then shrugged. "It must just stink to have your work be copied by wanabes and totally messing it up, huh?"

Utonium shook his head. I think I saw right through him more than he meant me to, so he went on clearing his throat.

"This 'S' is nothing like Chemical X, and they knew that from the beginning no matter how they desired to fabricate something of the same potency in granting a person powers. However Chemical X itself was not entirely safe to use on existing biological beings in the sense that what it produces cannot be predicted well. It has been my theory that those who… well, anyway. These unethical scientists, in order to keep 'S' bound to you instead of working on dissolving you, inserted through a type of laparoscopic surgery—"

I buzzed. "Lapa—what did they do to me?"

"Laparoscopic surgery is a type of surgery that uses only the smallest incision into the body to cause the least amount of damage— sometimes referred to as keyhole surgeries. It requires the use a tool called a laparoscope to reach the desired internal destination. There were three incisions to your body that I'm aware of after the scan. The S also seems to have absorbed the outer wounds, which it why there is no topical evidence, but internally, they've left discernible marks. There is evidence of one surgery just below your kidneys; another very unorthodoxly beneath the ribcage up to near your heart, and the last was hardly even a surgery, but still a small injection in the back of your neck below your cerebellum."

"What's this got to do with the Mayor's handler?" I snapped.

"Cerebellum. The lower part of the brain in which cognition, coordination, and precision is regulated."

I'd known that, really. Or at least I had known he hadn't been talking about Ms. Bellum, but it has just come out or my mouth. Hearing the scientific clarification that I didn't understand specifically, which I knew I deserved for being a dope, just had me sticking out my tongue and entirely losing my appetite.

"So what'd they do that for then?" I cracked.

"To implant artificial stabilizers for the purpose of regulating the S flowing through your body to their own design, presumably," said Utonium with a shrug, though there was nothing careless about this action. "We might have set up an operation at the hospital to remove them, but the Chemical S has absorbed them."

It was weird how this whole experience was mirror-opposite of the one I'd had with Form who'd been so casual it was sloppy and unnervingly-so when it had had to do with something as serious as my living body. I never thought that professionalism had its place until now with Pr. Utonium. The casualness was the background and the seriousness was between us two confidentially, instead of the serious casualty-ridden background and a chipper no-discretion stupidity between Form and me. Though we had been alone when we had spoken, it had been less private somehow than this. Don't know if that makes any sense or not, but I hardly understood it myself at the time.

"I thought they said S didn't absorb machines," I said with sudden cognition myself.

"It probably surprised them as well. These absorbed stabilizers are now acting like glue so that your cells are now bound to the S. If it was not for this, you might have been on your way as soon as tomorrow."

Slowly, I moaned— more cognition— and lowered my head into the table. "You mean, if I had come here to begin with right away instead of going with those crackpots I might've—"

"There's no use dwelling on that," Utonium interrupted.

"What about what they said about my brain losing its willpower?" I asked.

"That hasn't actually happened yet."

"Really? My brain feels like mush," I moaned with my forehead pressed against the table.

"It's just the stress you're under I think more than anything. You seem to be fully aware of your surroundings to me and there was no evidence of lack of control in your brain right now. Except when the S begins to overpower you at certain times, you are yourself entirely; though, yes, the pressure is becoming more dangerous."

"So's there still hope for me then."

"I told you. We're going to cure you," said Utonium firmly. "It's just going to take longer. I don't think you know anything about detoxification. Some forms are good enough to cure people of cancer and other serious medical conditions. I've designed something that should cleanse the S out of your cells in a similar fashion, but it will require you to remain here in a chamber I've created with the permission of this facility. It's designed to draw out everything that is not biologically safe to humans. You will have a very simple clean diet, and will rarely be allowed to leave the chamber because that could regress your condition. It will be tedious, but the most pain you'll have is boredom. You'll have to have lots liquid as there will be a lot of micturition and sweating."

"So I just got to sweat this out," I said with as much a chuckle as I could hang onto; I had to cheer myself up somehow.

Utonium smiled and nodded. "That's about it."

"Right. Um, so what's 'mutrition', though?"

"Micturition? Urinating. Like I said the chamber is private, but lots of liquid means lots of draining."

"Oh. Okay."

"But there is one question I must ask you," said Utonium very gravely.

"Huh?"

"Where have you been this whole time?"

"Why?" I lifted myself up a little.

We had a certain decorum in all this enough and all (him more than me, of course), but neither one of us forgot who we both were. His charity was still making me uncomfortable, but the look he gave me was pretty telling, and this time he meant it to be.

I'd tried to kill his little girls a couple times at least in the heat of the battle for the city like all the other Townsville super villains. I was known for being a downright goblin from "Welcome to Townsville" to "You are now Leaving Townsville". These respective signs I had more than once added my own flourish to in order to scare potential visitors away with graffiti threats and drawings of people getting mutilated. The stuff in between wasn't worth talking about even now. All that mattered was that I was the same guy, green or not.

"Why do you think?" It was like he was talking to one of his kids now.

"I dunno," I said lamely.

"Because there's a chance this S has gotten out and may affect other things. Possibly other people."

"I was running around the whole city like a rabid dog; so if you're sayin' I'm contagious, then it could have gotten everywhere by now," I said.

"I mean, did you hurt anyone. Physically. Without a biological substance to absorb, the S dries out into a harmless substance and disintegrates, but if it got into any biological substance, it could be a problem."

"Well, I didn't go into the park, so all the biological greenery is all safe and snug," I snorted.

Did I understand wrong or had I heard he was taking care of Mojo's brats now too. Probably had a hard time with them, I could only imagine. Only ever saw them from a distance and heard more than I saw with Arturo on lookout that he made me promise never to give him again. Giant angry toddlers was the last thing the world needed, but if Utonium had even had the courage to take them on even without their powers, it certainly had to give a guy patience and a certain amount of adult-like respectability I sure wasn't used to. That look was more that sort of respectability than I could handle at the moment.

I hid my renewed resentment in a sip of that green stuff, but I didn't take my glare off his till I set the paper cup down. I didn't see Utonium, though, even though I was looking at him. All I could see was Snake after I had slammed into the floor. Blood. Pain. Now poisoned too.

"I went to Snake's house," I answered and sighed. "Are you sure this moss junk is actually edible or is it just a big thick Chemical X stew?"

At last my eyes faltered. Guilt swam like leaches looking for a place to suck in my guts and I caught myself testing my fang with my tongue.

"Ace?"

"Hngh?" A nerve-wracking shiver passed through me, but it was quick.

"What happened at Snake's house?"

#

Snake glared. I just stared back. Some scientist or staff person other than Utonium was explaining again to Snake's mom what the deal was. I had already been in the chamber overnight. Snake was on the opposite side of the door.

It was not a room in itself, but a kind of McDonald's Land capsule of a place. No play balls but I could picture them well enough. You could almost see yourself in the sheen of the cylindrical walls. The playhouse window only allowed a narrow view of the next wall of the research center. The space in between my chamber and that was like a hallway, except no one but those allowed to be there could come near the chamber to gawk at me. The window was pretty steamed up anyway.

The person talking to Snake's mom and the mom herself were just colored blobs. The window in the door remained clearer, though, and there was the puffy picture of Snake like a family portrait in a grim rickety manor— cap on his lank black hair instead of a bowler or whatever. His face pale, and kind of… yellowish.

I was just a portrait back, I'm sure, sitting in my sauna in cotton shorts and oversized tee— nothing could be artificial or it might interrupt the process, from what I gathered. I was groggy with the steam. A glass of mineral water rested next to me with a touch of lemon zing— a glass made of real glass by the way, and I was sweating and wreaking of that S even with the vents sucking it all away from every wall, floor and ceiling so that if you put your head right in the middle of the room you could actually feel the pull very faintly from all directions. Dizzying, but I was way too slumped down for that on my cotton futon mat.

When the adults were done talking, Snake's mom said goodbye. I looked away when she kissed him. Snake said nothing back. When I looked back he handed over his cap like a silent promise. When she left, he took off his shoes and socks and then he was ushered inside.

"Just remember not to touch each other," said the staff woman, Shelby was her name.

"We'll remember, Shelly."

She raised a brow at me, but there was just the slightest tinge of amusement. I sneered.

"I'll bring more to drink," she said.

I shrugged. "Sure."

His condition was hardly a sniffle compared to my pneumonia, and they weren't allowing for the chance I might contaminate him worse. There was only room for one chamber and only enough funding for one by the city, especially since Snake was only gunna be in here a day or two.

He sat down under the foggy window across from me once Shelby was gone. There he sulked.

Staring between his knees that arched like poles on either side of his pointed head, he wiped his brow already affected by the oppressive amount of steam. Maybe the smell too. Any anger had drooped into his characteristic melancholy, and he sighed uncomfortably. He shifted and shuffled. Then he was still.

"Hey," I said finally just cuz the whole thing was starting to bug me.

With eyes still away from mine, Snake took a deep breath as though for something profound, but all that came out was a sound like a weak kettle.

I rolled my eyes, and thought a moment. Thinking was a sluggish thing in the tank, but at least things were calmer. I'd already been in here for some hours, and the shaking was done. My body felt more solid. I was feeling the difference. Tingling and buzzing. It felt kind of good, but in convalescing in this way I might have been taking a nap like a true invalid waiting for Pr. Utonium to check on me if it wasn't for my visitor.

When he didn't say anything for a long while I leaned back, held up my water like a dink at the bar and said, "Like that cantina Arturo talked about, huh?"

"I guesso," murmured Snake.

"Ah, so you still have tonsils left," I teased. "Thought they cut them 'em outa ya, you was so bad! You'll be outa here in no time, y'know."

Snake looked like he was swallowing a stone as he looked at me. It wasn't that, his face told me. It was being in here with me, and not because he hated me, but because he felt sorry for me, cuz I wasn't getting out of here quick.

I huffed. His eyes lowered again to the floor between his knees.

Besides the glass, I had with me a sketch pad— the kind without metal wires but just ripped off, and I had an unpainted pencil that was already flat from my doodling. Utonium had not allowed me to sit like a dolphin in a fish bowl, if you know what I mean. I had a few books too. I actually asked for those. Something about Snake doing school had got me thinking about it. I wasn't in the mood to share that I was actually planning on learning stuff and doing some actual thinking about my life while locked away in the tank, but we weren't gunna swing the pad back and forth for ticktacktoe either.

I ripped a piece off.

Snake looked up suspiciously between strands of hair that had fallen in his face without his hat to hold it back. I crumpled it and tossed it behind me. His eyes fell again grimly. I smiled. Then with the quickest motion I could muster, I made a sweeping motion with my bare foot, hooked the paper wad between my toes and kicked it with pretty good aim into his ankle.

"What?"

"Ya missed, ya goober," I shrugged throwing my hands behind my head.

He didn't hiss but you could sure see the rattlers going off as he pierced me a glare and a pretty funny pout. I just looked back nonchalantly and made myself the most obnoxious target I could with an idle sneer from ear to ear and purposeful roll of my eyes.

He took the bait and flicked it back.

I kicked it back again.

He kicked it up and hit me in the face.

"Hey!" I snapped, but I was loving it.

Meh! More than I should have probably.

A few seconds later we were kicking and flicking the whole pad of paper back and forth at each other and actually laughing, which was good. I meant it to just break the ice, but I felt more release for myself than I thought such a stupid game would. I hadn't had, well, fun in ages! It's like I forgot what the word actually meant, and I couldn't even remember the last time I had fun without destroying something in the process or having some kind of underhanded motive. Aside from messing up the tank, I don't think I'd had clean fun like this since before the gang. Even the irony of having to be locked in a tank with a horrible disease did not dampen the mood even if it drenched my head and underarms.

We were hot enough to melt grilled cheese slugging those wads back and forth like soccer nerds not worrying about heat stroke. By the time Shelby got back with the drinks, we were pretty ready to take a break. We sprawled out on our allotted sides, drinking our glasses dry and panting like dogs in the hot dog days of summer.

"I can't believe we made all that mess over scraps of paper," Snake snorted.

I cackled too weary to answer at first. My head was throbbing, but I didn't care.

"We can always double it by ripping them apart, huh?" I breathed after a minute or two. "If we weren't afraid of cooties we could spitball 'em into the windows."

I was splitting the now naked cardboard base to curl up two spit shooters, regardless, but a wave of dizziness held me up a moment and I changed my mind. I dropped my head back onto the floor in bizarrely pleasant defeat.

"You okay?" asked Snake.

I was sorry he was here, but I couldn't say that. Besides, I liked him here just the same. By the tone of Snake's voice, he forgave me enough to let the past all pass, which was what I wanted, but funny thing was, I wasn't fully sure I deserved it.

"Tch," I waved my hand aside. "Pr. Utonium said there was nothing to worry about, so I ain't worrying. Neither should you."

"Well, I didn't mean… whateversss."

I chuckled again and wrapped my arms behind my head.

Snake was sitting up with far more sobriety. I might as well have been drunk on the other hand, and I chuckled again at the thought of getting drunk on Chemical S and mineral water.

Leaning on his knee with one arm he actually looked at me in earnest as though trying to decide how to say something serious again no matter how strong his "whatever". I closed my eyes and pretended I was ready to take a nap. I didn't want to hear it, whatever he wanted to say. I smiled lazily and breathed comfortably through my nose while throwing one leg over the other like Little Boy Blue on a hay stack not caring to blow his horn.

"Tss," Snake started.

I didn't respond.

"I know you never…" he faltered.

"Forget about," I warned without moving otherwise; still smiling and everything. "I deserved all the lip you gave me."

"Yeah, but you took us all in and you were right, we all wanted the green."

"Chemical under the bridge," I yawned rocking my loose foot.

"I guessso."

"You bet you going-honest life… Sanford."

That struck Snake. I knew it would.

What was truly in a name that made people so personal about it? I mean, it's not like the name of a person really changes who or what the person was in a physical sense. It's all just a bunch of syllables we make up in the end. Funny how the psychology of a guy works in that good old cerebellum, and yet it got me thinking just enough to scratch the surface about the fact that no one knew me as anything other than "Ace". No history, no real name, and as to what exactly "Ace" referred to other than the fact that it meant first-rate, not even I knew. First-rate psycho?

Not the police, not that one whacked truant officer, no one knew who I was. Why? It was my special power. The green hadn't given me the strength to crash through walls, to slither like a snake, to change my voice to sound like the Mayor's anytime I wanted, or to not have to blink my eyeballs or hardly breathe at will. It gave me fangs? Well, yeah, but something more. The green had seared my fingers and toes. I was unidentifiable with prints, and my spit and blood had never been recorded in my old life. It was anonymity the green had bestowed upon me like a wish from a genie. I was no one, except Ace.

The police even yesterday had dragged me in without testing for the prints without the green. They knew the drill with Ace. Besides, the S had smeared them up again anyway.

I shook my head.

But whether Snake was thinking about that or just surprised that I addressed him without his gang name that I had made up for him , I pressed my purpose further.

"You got a good thing going with your mom and all. Don't waste it."

He nodded gravely. "Thanks, Ace."

He knew I meant it despite my jaunty tone. Thankfully, he left it all at that, and so did I.