Aberrant: In the Beginning - Richard Stevenson

[Courier]

Chicago Illinois,

Saint Ann's Long Term Care Facility

March 22, 1998.

7 PM.

Rich was a not very good looking Caucasian man in his late 40’s. He had brown hair and eyes and several facial scars on the left side of his face. His left hand was gnarled and he didn’t move it’s fingers much. He said,

"And let's see what we have next. Ah, it's an article on Dinosaurs and new evidence on how they became extinct. That sounds interesting."

Rich turned the page on his "Economist" magazine and clipped it to a clip board. Then he started reading out loud. There were two beds in the middle of the room; one had a pretty 13 year old girl who was apparently asleep. There was some family resemblance between her and both the men. Without the wear and tear Rich might have been pretty in the past. In the doorway to the room Bob rolled his eyes.

After Rich finished Bob commented, “Dinosaurs?”

Rich replied, “Hey, all kids like dinosaurs. And that includes Emily, right honey?”

The 13 year old in the bed didn’t move.

Rich continued, “Besides, Dinosaurs and the Economist has to beat Cosmo or those teen magazines which talk about nothing other than boy bands and clothes.”

There was no family resemblance between Bob and Rich, but the ease between them suggested that this was a conversation they’d had before. Bob might have been in his mid or late 60’s. His hair was white and he was carrying a cardboard box. He asked,

“Any change?”

Rich replied, “Her eyes moved a bit ago. I thought I saw her hand twitch as well… about the same time I read Sam’s email. Guess who wants to be a model?”

Bob said, “Her mother tried that on me at about the same age. I kept harping on how she needed a backup plan. She’s pretty enough, but being a model doesn’t take ‘pretty’, it takes ‘luck’.”

Rich said, “Agreed. I think it’d be good for her to hear that from both of us though. She doesn’t have to be an Atomic Engineer, but being a model really stacks the odds against her.”

Both men didn’t comment on who else had odds stacked against her. Rich nodded towards the box Bob was carrying and asked,

“What’s in the box?”

Bob said, “New concept: Talking books. Someone else read a book and recorded it.”

Rich said, “Hmm… sounds like cheating. Sounds pretty good actually, at least for when we’re not here. I doubt her people will mind.”

Rich nodded towards the other bed and both men frowned in disapproval. The other bed held “Sue”, a woman in her early 20’s who was also in a coma. Neither man had ever spotted any family visiting her but the staff had said she had some.

Rich asked, “What’s the first one?”

Bob said, “The Lord of the Rings.”

Rich said, “Fantasy. I don’t suppose you have American Engineer in there?”

Bob said, “Nope. I’ll leave that one to you. Speaking of which, what’s next?”

Rich said, “New advancements in fiber optic technology. This is the Economist's technology review issue.”

Bob said dryly, “How exciting”.

Rich ignored him, sat back down, adjusted his clipboard, and started reading again.

[Titan]

At 10pm, there was a light knock on the door. Erin, the night supervisor, stuck her head in the door.

"Mr. Stevenson...," she said.

Rich closed his Economist on his finger.

"I know, lights out," he replied, "just finishing this article."

"Ok, Mr. Stevenson. Good night." She retreated.

"Good night, Erin."

When the article was finished, and he had kissed Emily on her forehead, he stood for a moment looking at her.

Her eyes were closed, her face in gentle repose. She simply looked asleep. And, in fact, that is what the doctors kept assuring him. Minimal damage to the brain initially, already completely repaired, there was no reason she shouldn't wake up any minute.

She has changed so much since she was seven. God, six years. He could barely wrap his mind around that fact. Six years. She has hit puberty, soon she will be a woman. And yet... Her arms were curled in a foetal position, normal in coma patients but it made her look unnatural. She was very thin, again normal for people in comas, but he remembered a solid toddler, and a kid who had a round baby-fat face. This young woman had well-defined cheekbones and slim shoulders. She looked...

She looked like Alice.

He took a deep breath. Again.

The nurses were going to bodily remove him if he didn't leave soon. They had done it before. He kissed his daughter again.

"We'll save Tolkien for tomorrow, honey. I have to leave for Lancaster in the morning, but I'll come by and put one on before I head for the airport. Have a good night. Love you, Em."

He left the hospital quickly, as usual full of emotion.

[Courier]

It took Rich 13 minutes to get home from Long Term Care Facility, after Sam had moved to college he'd changed appartments. Smaller, cheaper, and closer to Em.

Walking in he glanced at the eye sore of six moving boxes stacked against the wall. After more than a year he still hadn't completely unpacked. As always he decided he would do something about them... later.

Rich fixed himself a snack and reviewed his travel plans for tomorrow. He was already packed, he'd done this dozens of times before. Up at 6, then O'Hare, then it was off to Lancaster Pennsylvania. There he'd rent a car and go to "Peach Bottom" where he'd start the 'routine' audit. Peach's safty record was good but not perfect, and when it came to atomic power plants "not perfect" had a way to come back and bite you.

Rich yawned and decided against turning on the TV. He didn't have cable and he did need his sleep. With practiced effort he undressed and was quickly asleep.

[Titan]

The alarm went off at six am. He was all packed, so a quick shower was all he needed. He was dressing when he caught the flash in the mirror over the dresser. He turned towards the mirror, but it was gone. He bent and tied his shoes, grabbed his bags and headed for the door. He climbed in his car and backed out of the driveway. As he drove, he saw some of his neighbors on their lawns in their bathrobes, looking up at the sky. He reached North Farrell, and turned right. He braked.

Traffic was stopped as far as he could see. People were out of their cars. Some talked excitedly with each other. Some seemed angry about the delay. Most, simply stared at the sky. He turned on the radio

[Courier]

Rich considered,

*Car is still working. No EMP pulse, so no close nukes going off. Eclipse? UFO? One of those mass social things where everyone looks in the sky because everyone else is looking in the sky? Some marketing company faking an 'war of the worlds' thing?*

*Maybe the radio will make this a little clearer.*

[Titan]

*That's Clinton's voice*

...mourning the loss of nine men and women of the greatest courage and dedication. Hillary and I are disturbed and shocked by the tragedy of the space platform Galatea. We know we share this pain with all of the people of our country, and the world. This is truly a global loss. ... Just over twelve years ago, the nation lost six astronauts and one civilian observer...

*Oh. So that's what's going on.*

Rich stepped outside and watched the sky with everyone else for perhaps a minute.

Millions of people world wide witnessed the aftermath of the world's worst space disaster, as fallout from the satellite’s onboard nuclear reactor created a shockwave that circled the globe. The danger from falling debris is minimal, according to sources at Johnson Space Center in Houston, TX.

...

NASA officials insist safety remains their top priority and there was no indication that any safety measures failed.

*Nuclear safety isn't really their thing. Time to get out the cell phone and start making some calls. I strongly suspect we're going to get dragged into this mess... and I'd better check with the boss that they really want me in Peaches.*

Rich got out his phone, flipped it open with one hand, and using the same hand started dialing.

*This post was by Courier, moved from the Headline News Thread*

[Courier]

Richard gets through on the phone,

"..."

"Yeah, it's me. Put me through to him. Yeah, it's about the Galatea."

"..."

"Dave, it's Rich. Yes, I know the Galatea just blew up. OK, NASA's already saying there's no danger but that's fighter jock talk. NASA isn't known for their nuclear expertise."

"Worse case? The worse case is if the rods some how make it down mostly intact. Not everything will burn up on re-entry."

"Yeah, I know. It was always a bad idea. ... Dave, we need to have someone head to NASA and try to figure out where the rods are, and we need to have someone show up where ever something comes down. It doesn't need to be me, but we need to send someone. Given everything that's happened, do you really want me to go to Peach Bottom and count paper clips?"

[Titan]

"Rich, I haven't given it a lot of- ...I mean, my God, we never thought.." Dave seemed to flounder, then steadied himself.

"No...No, Rich, of course not. Peach Bottom can wait. I want you on standby. Something falls out of the sky, you be ready to move. Nice catch, by the way. I hadn't thought that far ahead yet. That's why we count on you. Thanks, Rich. I'll call you."

Rich hung up the phone. Started to climb back into his car. A flash in the sky caught his eye. He straightened, and saw a streak of light coming straight down. Mentally, he calculated trajectory. Damn close...

Instinctively, he took a step back. The falling object streaked down about twelve cars ahead of him. The concussion was massive, throwing vehicles and people back. Richard blew back several feet, stumbled and fell. When he found right side up again, he levered himself up on his elbows and saw the edge of a crater ending right at his nose. He stood shakily. A trench led back from the crater at least sixty feet. He leaned over, and looked down into the crater.

A nude woman lay at the bottom of the molten blacktop and rock. Around her neck and wrists were twisted metal bands. There was no mark on her, and as he watched incredulously, Rich saw her chest rise and fall.

[Courier]

Rich stared at the woman and tried to make sense of everything.

*She fell from the sky? No, impact was next to her. Shockwave ripped her clothes off. And she's able to lay in liquid rock because... um...*

*Do things first, think about the 'why' later. And don't mention some of the wilder parts to 911.*

Richard reached into his wallet and took out his I'm f*cked card, looked at it, then clipped it to his shirt. If it changed color that would indicate he'd been exposed to radiation. Of course unless he paid close attention it'd only warn him *after* the fact. Ideally he'd be in a group of people who also had cards so he could watch theirs. Of course ideally he'd be reading about this in the paper and not on site.

Rich got out his cell phone again and dialed '911'. Assuming he gets through he says,

"This is Richard Stevenson, I'm at [location as best he can], and there's been a large explosion here. I think a piece of the space lab fell here, but that doesn't really matter. There's dead an injured here, and there's a woman trapped at the bottom of a pit."

"No sir, I'm a safety inspector. We don't have senses of humor about these sorts of things."

Regardless of whether he gets through to 911, Rich dials his boss's secretary again.

"Yeah, it's me again. We had an impact here... and something really odd is going on. You kind of have to see it to believe it, but we're going to want some kind of containment crew here. I don't see any radiation yet..."

[Titan]

The 911 call goes through. So does the call to Dave. Then his cell dies. He glances down at the radiation counter tag, and is dismayed to see it turn black in front of his eyes. A quick look at the crowd confirmed his worst fears.

Already, the people in the crowd were scratching at their arms and necks. Faces were turning reddish. Some were mopping their brow. As he looked, a woman fainted. His skin began to itch.

A dull throb started behind his left eye.

[Courier]

The first thing that came to Rich's mind was,

*Ah crap. I'm f*cked.*

He continued slightly more rationally, *First thing you do in emergency situation is save your own ass, usually by getting out of there. Second of course is to start a panic. I don't see anything else that will get everyone out of here... fine*

Richard yelled,

"EVERYONE! We're being exposed to lethal levels of radiation here, this is from the Space Station's core. I'm a nuclear safty inspector, my radiation badge just turned black. We NEED TO LEAVE RIGHT NOW!!!"

Richard walked briskly away from the crater knowing it was probably too late for most of them. He thought he could feel the radiation moving through him, but knew that was imagination. Harmless... but the real harm was here and very real. Odds favored him not living through this one.

*To turn the card black that quick... this amount of radiation... Pain in my head might be a stroke... Em...*

[Titan]

He stumbled to his knees, as strength fled from him. As he fell, the pain in his head bloomed like fireworks. He glanced over his shoulder, and saw the crowd falling like wheat. Subconsciously, he calculated, and the answer floated to his quickly fading mind.

The levels of radiation necessary to cause these effects so quickly could only be found at the flashpoint of a nuclear explosion.

As if to defy his deduction, the nude woman rose slowly out of the crater. Her eyes were open, and boiled with fiery suns. Her skin now glowed a sickly green. The twisted meatal around her neck broke and slid to the ground. The ones on her wrists seemed to melt into her skin. She spoke, and her voice was a hollow hiss.

"Where am I? Who are you? Help me. I need help. Please."

She leaned down to a young black man, and as Richard watched, his cheek slid off of his face and hung on his chest like a medallion. The woman hardly noticed, but instead turned and saw him watching her. She floated towards him quickly. As she approached, the pain in his forehead thrust down his spine. He felt the burn against his face, his vision turned watery.

"Sir?...Sir?...Help me, please...I don't know....who...I am. Where I am. Please. Help me."

Richard screamed in his head. The pain was unbearable. He felt his skull split, his brain seemed exposed to the sky. The people around him were dying, and so was he.

"Please, can you help me?"

[Courier]

Rich's last thought through the pain was the woman was a walking nuclear melt down, then the world exploded. For a timeless moment Richard realized there were three problems, the Plutonium woman, the radioactive materials her presence was creating, and the contaminated people.

Reaching out in some way he'd never be able to describe or even remember Rich tried to fix/alter the woman, the people, and damp down the secondary materials.

A wave of energy rolled off Rich and spread over everyone as far as he could see... flesh knitted back and the "sunburns" faded. Much later two people with heart conditions would find they had good hearts again and two others with cancer would find out they'd gone into remission.

Another wave rolled into him from everywhere. 12 kilometers away at the Argonne National Labs research facility, every radiation counter registered nothing and every gram of radioactive material turned into lead.

Hardest of all was turning Plutonium Woman into Lady Lead. He could 'see' what she'd done wrong... but again not in a way he'd ever be able to put into words. Transforming your body into radiation was fine, but what she'd done was wrong and needed correcting. Across the crowd their eyes locked...

[Titan]

They faced each other across the unconscious crowd. She was bewildered, he was determined. She felt something making her weaker. She lashed out instinctively. Rich saw/felt waves of radiation coming off of her. He pulled them into himself as quickly as she produced them. He didn't know how, he just did it. He felt distracted, as though he were viewing events from outside of himself.

He tried to turn her into 'not-radioactive', again with no real understanding of what he did. She wouldn't turn. It was as if there was nothing to her except radiation. She continued to produce ever-more-potent waves of isotopes, and he continued to pull them into himself. It was tiring him.

He needed to end this. He pushed his sense of the radiation outward as far as it would go, like casting a wide net. Once it was out, all the way out, he pulled everything he sensed back into him like inhaling a deep, deep breath.

The green glow trailed off of her skin into the air towards him. It pulled off of her like ripping off a band-aid. The glow hung there in the air between them before striking his chest, spreading out to his shoulders and towards his crotch, then dissapearing inside him. He continued to 'inhale' radioactive isotopes deeply.

She slid a little towards him on the pavement, then dug in her heels.

"Why? Why are you doing this to me? What have I done to you? I'm sorry, please, you are hurting me..."

"What you are doing is wrong," Rich said firmly, "it must be corrected."

He saw something, then. Something about her shoulder was wrong. Before he could look more closely, however, he felt something in his head tear. The pain was excruciating, and he started to pass out. He noticed that he never stopped pulling in the energy, if anything his draw was even more powerful as he lost consciousness.

**********************

He woke on his back. His head and body felt sick with pain. He opened his eyes, and was surprised to find himself on a plane, obviously a military cargo plane. A person in a containment suit leaned over him. Through the faceplate, Rich recognized Dave, his boss.

"What-"

*chink* "Just rest, Rich. We don't know how much you got. You seem ok, but your tag was black when we found you. Geiger of the area was negative, too. May have been a defective tag, but you look like hell, buddy. We're taking you to the ANEC Medical facility in Boston. Relax." *chink*

Rich looked around him. Several others in containment gear were strapped into the bulkhead seats. With effort, he raised himself to an elbow.

"Where is she? Where is the woman?" he asked.

after a long pause...

*chink* "I don't follow you, Rich. What woman?" *chink*

Richard lay back, his confusion mounting. As he lay, thinking, deep within him came an alien thought.

My God! What did you do? What have you done to me? Help me! Someone please... Help me!

The thought trailed away to sobs.

[Courier]

Rich considered...

*Hallucinations? Could there have been some gas at the site? Maybe I got drunk? Ha! I wish! This doesn’t feel like that. It’s really grim when an alcoholic hopes he’s been drinking. Realty doesn’t care what we want to believe. Face the facts, no matter how unpleasant.*

Rich says,

“There was a woman at the site who seemed to be responsible for everything. My badge turned black right after she came out of the crater. Or maybe I was hallucinating that part, she was naked.”

“Dave, I feel like shit. We both know I got tagged with a lot more than ‘enough’ rads back there. Badge wasn’t defective when I put it on and it turned black early into this. I’m dying. I won’t even make 30.”

It felt awful and good to say this. On some level Rich didn’t want to accept it. The body didn't take rad damage evenly. At a certain massive dosage your bone marrow would be destroyed without affecting much else. Traditionally it took 30 days to die from that as parts of your blood wouldn't be replenished. But on day #1 you don’t feel bad. Rich’s headache told him he’d was *FAR* past “massive” rads.

“So what’s the body count so far? I wasn’t the closest one.”

[Titan]

*chink*"Rich, no one was hurt, as far as we can tell. And, yes, there were women there, but no one that stood out to me. You seem fine. You should relax. We'll be there before you know it."*chink*

********************

Decontam was never fun. Against all odds, and his own protests, the doctors pronounced him clear of any radiation poisoning. Once he was done with his exam, he asked for Dave.

"Dr. Brown? He's was on the phone in the administration office, last I saw him," said the doctor.

Rich found him slumped in a chair outside the Admin office.

"Dave?"

Dave looked at him without seeing his face. He struggled for words.

"My daughter...you've met Stephanie...she..."

"Dave," Rich asked, concerned, "What is it?"

Dave seemed to fight for composure. He passed his hand across his face.

"She's been...killed. Murdered, on her spring break."

With that, he broke down and his shoulders began to heave.

[Courier]

Originally Posted By: Titan

*chink*"Rich, no one was hurt, as far as we can tell. And, yes, there were women there, but no one that stood out to me. You seem fine. You should relax. We'll be there before you know it."*chink*

*No One Was Hurt?*
*No One Was Hurt!?!*

Rich remembered a man's face melting off and struggled to make sense of this statement.

*Ignoring divine intervention, possibilities are... my memories are wrong?*

Rich asked,

"There was a crater there, right?"

Dave responded, *chink*"Yes, there was. There was some kind of touch down there but we're still looking into it."*chink*

Rich continued to evaluate,

*It didn't get nuts until well after the crater formed. So... some kind of toxic gas? It might be as simple as the heat lowering the level of oxygen in the area.*

*Ah... and my badge turned black because... um... OK, that's a problem. Medical eval time.*

Rich gave up on this train of thought and tried to mediate away his pain and confusion on the way back.

Quote:

Decontam was never fun. Against all odds, and his own protests, the doctors pronounced him clear of any radiation poisoning.

Rich thought,

*OK, so it's official. No Radiation. So no naked Plutonium woman... Freud would guess I'm an atomic engineer who needs to get laid more and who was worried about nuke stuff. No me playing god of radiation. The crying woman was the after effects of whatever happened, or maybe a left over dream. Everyone didn't die of radiation exposure because we weren't exposed to radiation to begin with.*

*The badge is a loose end, but maybe it was bad. Maybe it underwent a chemical reaction of some sort with whatever was in the crater. That's not supposed to happen but I was using the badge outside of it's specs so whatever.*

*Time to look up Dave then get back to work.*

Quote:

Dave looked at him without seeing his face. He struggled for words.

"My daughter...you've met Stephanie...she..."

"Dave," Rich asked, concerned, "What is it?"

Dave seemed to fight for composure. He passed his hand across his face.

"She's been...killed. Murdered, on her spring break."

With that, he broke down and his shoulders began to heave.

Rich said,

"Oh No! Dave I'm so sorry."

Rich walked over and gripped Dave on his shoulder in a silent testimony that he was there for him. Then Rich realized he was holding Dave's shoulder with his left hand. After six years of physical therapy he still had only minimal functionality with it and sometimes he seriously considered replacing it with a mechanical hook.

Rich switched hands and gripped Dave's shoulder with his right while he held up his left hand and stared at it. He tried to make a tight fist with it and succeeded. He thought,

*What on Earth?*

Then glancing at Dave he put this new mystery out of mind for the moment and asked,

"How old was she? Did they catch whoever did it?"

[Titan]

Dave shook his head.

"I don't know. I don't think so. They found her... parts of her...in. In. In," He breaks down again. After a minute, he continues.

"They found parts of her all over Ocean City. She's 21. She was 21. Oh god, I have to call Judy." He lurched up from the chair, and looked at Rich with dead eyes.

"What in God's name do I say?"

He walked slowly into the Admin offices.

Rich stood for a moment, then:

The double doors that led to the main entry suddenly burst open. Four men in identical suits walked through and quickly converged on Rich.

"Mr. Stevenson? Special Agent Crowe, F.B.I. I'd like to ask you to come with us please. We have some questions about the events in Chicago this morning."

Before he can reply, two more men followed closely on the F.B.I.'s heels. One was dressed very casually, with a full beard. The other wore a suit, but without a tie.

"Not so fast. This is a National Security issue, Agent Crowe. To put it bluntly, the N.S.A. needs him more than you do."

[Courier]

Right before Dave walks out the door Rich says,

"I think you and I had better go to a meeting tonight." From the way Rich pronounced the word meeting he meant an AA meeting.

After Dave left Rich "raided" the bottle of aspirin in his office for two tabs and dry swallowed them. Opening a child proof bottle had been the acid test. Rich stared at his now functional left hand and wondered what was going on.

Originally Posted By: Titan

The double doors that led to the main entry suddenly burst open. Four men in identical suits walked through and quickly converged on Rich.

"Mr. Stevenson? Special Agent Crowe, F.B.I. I'd like to ask you to come with us please. We have some questions about the events in Chicago this morning."

Before he can reply, two more men followed closely on the F.B.I.'s heels. One was dressed very casually, with a full beard. The other wore a suit, but without a tie.

"Not so fast. This is a National Security issue, Agent Crowe. To put it bluntly, the N.S.A. needs him more than you do."

Taken back by the first group, much less the second, Rich put in,

"It sounds like you two have lots to talk about... but what does any of this have to do with me?"

Rich thought,

*Radiation woman. Got to be. But let's not mention her until they do.*

[Titan]

Agent Crowe turns to confront the N.S.A. man.

"This man reported a loose rod of enriched uranium in a Chicago suburb. He was found at the edge of a crater with 241 unconscious people, none of whom remember anything. We need to ask him some questions."

The N.S.A. man already had taken Rich by the arm, and was pulling him to the door. The man with the beard was showing the F.B.I. some papers.

"Tell it to the President, Crowe. I need him to save the world."

****************

In the unmarked Government car, the N.S.A. guy drove. About 130 mph, Rich hazarded a guess. The bearded man opened a file and passed over a schematic.

"Ever seen this?"

It was not anything Rich had ever seen. It seemed to be a thermonuclear device, with miniaturization that Rich wasn't familiar with and frankly wasn't sure would work.

"The Chinese have been working on it for 20 years, but we've never had any confirmation that they had a functional weapon. Seventeen minutes ago, a C.I.A operative in London called the Director of Central Intelligence. It was her belief that it exists and was being deployed in some power move by the PRC."

Rich looked again at the specs. Maybe it would work. In one corner, someone had printed: 'Project: Stormbringer'.

[Courier]

Originally Posted By: Titan

Agent Crowe turns to confront the N.S.A. man.

"This man reported a loose rod of enriched uranium in a Chicago suburb. He was found at the edge of a crater with 241 unconscious people, none of whom remember anything. We need to ask him some questions."

Rich thought,

*I didn't report a downed rod. Oh, right. I 'only' told the radiation containment people we had a containment issue and they should send a crew... I can see how that would be relayed as something 'more'(?) dangerous than a Plutonium Woman. All I have to do is explain... right... This should be interesting.*

*Wait, 241 unconscious people, 'none' of whom remember anything? Why does that sound like a lie? Surely there were people further away... of course the smart thing to do when witnessing a nuclear meltdown is too run away and keep running. Or maybe whatever happened to my hand disoriented them as well.*

Quote:

"Tell it to the President, Crowe. I need him to save the world."

*The President???*

Quote:

In the unmarked Government car, the N.S.A. guy drove. About 130 mph, Rich hazarded a guess. The bearded man opened a file and passed over a schematic...

Rich stared at the specs in disbelief and checked, for the fourth time, the ratio at the bottom. 1-to-4. "Miniature" was the right word. He said,

"So the suitcase nuke really exists. Briefcase almost. Little Boy really is little." That was nuclear humor. "Little Boy" was the name of one of the nukes dropped on Japan and had been far from little. Rich rubbed his forehead. The aspirin wasn't helping much and his day was getting worse.

"OK, answer one question. Why me? What happened at the impact site was insane, like something out of the Bible. As the guy who was there and an expert in this field I'm still at a loss to explain any of it. There was radiation there, then there wasn't. I'd think whatever happened would need months of investigating before being taken seriously, and more likely even after that it wouldn't. What makes you and the President think that I can do anything about this?"

[Titan]

The bearded man spoke sharply.

"You are closer than you realize. Little Boy caused a 13 kiloton explosion. Unlike our SADM, or the Soviet-era Mini-fridge sized nuclear bombs, which each produced about a 1 kiloton explosion, China's Stormbringer is believed to be a 10 kiloton bomb about the size of a VCR."

He shifted in the seat, as the car approached the airport.

"To answer your question, first let me point out that this has been a highly unusual day. Central Intelligence has been keeping the President briefed on theories out of London that human beings are 'evolving' abilities like flight in that guy from D.C. and strength, like the Eisenfaust kid. There's even reports from New York about a guy named Freeman that can apparantly control plasma. Now, your situation in Chicago and this report landed on our radar at about the same time. If Stormbringer goes off in London, it could start World War III. Everyone is jumpy and trigger happy as it is, with all the crazy shit going on."

He looked at Rich seriously, and spoke earnestly, like a man explaining something he hardly believed in himself. The car blew through two airport checkpoints without stopping.

"The President believes that you can control radiation. How he came to believe that is not my concern, nor yours. The fact is, if we come into contact with Stormbringer, we will need a highly qualified Nuclear Engineer, trusted by the US Government, with our strike team. Dr. Brown is out, his judgement will be too affected by the sudden loss of his daughter. Now, there are probably a dozen or more highly qualified men and women we could have chosen instead, but as I said..."

He looked uncomfortable. The car was going out onto the airfield, it seemed. The car screeched to a halt next to a sleek, small jet plane. Bearded man continued:

"The President believes that you can contain this, with some... supernatural... ability, and that clinches it. You're our guy. Any more questions will have to wait until we're on the plane."

[Courier]

Rich got on the plane and echoed what he's heard several times with his thoughts whirling.

*People are 'evolving' abilities like flight, strength, plasma control. Like 'Eisenfaust' and 'Freeman' whoever they are.*

*Which makes NO sense at all.*

*People are 'evolving' abilities like flight, strength, plasma control. Like 'Eisenfaust' and 'Freeman'.*

*Even assuming such things are possible, evolution simply doesn't work that way. That's someone slapping a label on something they don't understand.*

*People are 'evolving' abilities like flight, strength, plasma control.*

*OK, ignore the 'how' or 'why' of it for now. Science often replaces one set of questions with a different set of questions.*

*People are 'evolving' abilities like...*

*Flight, Strength, plasma control, and... oh, just for the sake of argument... the ability to damp radiation down to nothing. Except turning radioatives into lead is *also* a nuclear reaction. If you can make nuclear unstable material stable, then you can make stable stuff unstable. So the President is correct, 'Radiation Control' works as a first approximation. Wait, that sounded a lot like acceptance?*

*People are 'evolving' abilities like... control over radiation.*

Rich shuddered. One guy, even him, maybe even especially him, walking around with the ability to snap his fingers and recreate Chernobyl was a nightmare. The next time he went on a bender, millions of people might have evacuated for thousands years. Worse, on some level it felt like this was an option.

Rich stared at the back of his left hand and flexed it again. While he was watching one of his freckles shrank to nothing and was gone. He considered again,

*What causes freckles? Sun damage? And by 'Sun' we mean 'radiation'. So... undoing the effects of radiation damage would be... manipulating genetics? No, a crushed hand isn't genetic damage. For that matter the guy with his face melted off lived and IR radiation is usually thought of as heat trauma.*

*I needed the ability to heal every flavor of radiation damage... and that's a big package. Or maybe it's a big enough sub-set of a bigger package. The Freckles indicate this is still on going... so... Em?*

Rich examined that idea from several different angles. It assumed *FAR* too much based on *FAR* too little data... but it was certainly worth a try. Assuming he lived through this.

After the plane was stably in the air, Rich spoke up,

"The President... is probably right. And I feel like I'm just dying of hunger. Please tell me we have food on this thing?"

[Titan]

Fed and rested, Rich and the agents landed at Heathrow International Airport at 12:18 local time. The NSA agent took the stairs two at a time. A car waited on the tarmac. The bearded agent also fairly flew down the stairs.

Rich paused briefly at the top of the steps, shading his eyes with his hand. Just as he thought he had adjusted, he started to lower his hand, when a brilliant flash of light detonated in the sky above him. It briefly drowned out the sun. Slowly, it faded away to nothing.

Below him, he heard one of the agents say, "Holy. Fuck."

[Courier]

By the time the plane landed Rich felt years younger. The faded scars on his face had faded into something close to invisibility and he'd had to tighten his belt. If someone hadn't been hammering on the inside of his head occasionally with a hammer he'd have been feeling pretty good. Well... except for the part of trying to get close to a live nuke.

Quote:

..a brilliant flash of light detonated in the sky above him. It briefly drowned out the sun. Slowly, it faded away to nothing.

Below him, he heard one of the agents say, "Holy. Fuck."

Rich said,

"Yeah... exactly."

After a pause he continued,

"Good news is I don't have to play hero. Bad news is we might have radiation problems... no... bad news is that might not have been the only one."

"We need to go to the attack site and see what happened."

[Titan]

The NSA agent again slides behind the wheel. The bearded man waves Rich on, and gets in the back. NSA again floors it. The car ride feels like a reverse of the one to the airport in the States, right down to the car being on the left side of the road. Once on the highway, Bearded Man turns to Rich and says,

"The site of the attack is a WHO testing facility belonging to their philanthropic buddies at the Æon Society. They are hoping to attract some of these people, people like you, there to be tested and perhaps treated. That's the song and dance, anyway. This probably isn't going to help their cause... although, who knows, might help 'em, since it apparantly wasn't successful."

NSA left the highway, gained even greater speed on a long country road. Even Bearded Man grabbed the 'oh shit' handle before continuing.

"The problem, as I see it, is two-fold. Political and radiational. I will handle the politics, but you have to help me to handle any possible fallout from that explosion, assuming it was Stormbringer. 10 kilotons... How much fallout can we expect?"

[Courier]

Rich grabs a handle and thinks out loud,

"Everything electrical hasn't stopped working so it must have been in space. Thus no secondary contaminates, that's very good. Usually 10 kilos would be a lot more than what we're going to see. No matter how 'big' the explosion was we're only dealing with material from a briefcase. That's also really good."

"So pretty minor fall out, really. I suggest giving everyone iodine tablets but that's probably over kill. What we're going to see is some unlucky types who were looking at the flash and went blind. But even that's going to be rare. Don't ask me what 'rare' means in a city this size."

"On a side note; In Chicago I was able to heal everyone and we were hurt lots worse than reported. What that means here and now I have no idea. Might be something, might not be."

[Titan]

The car finally swings into a long drive and pulls up to a gate, which opens as they approach. They drive into the walled estate, through the dorm and gym area, and up the hill to the main house.

Outside, in the circular driveway, a large number of people are talking in hushed whispers. Many of them stare into the sky. A large and growing number of them are converging on an asian man in a suit.

As they get out of the car, Bearded Man speaks softly to Rich,

"By the way, I am Dr. David Briggs, and this is my son, Jason. As far as anyone here needs to know, that is."

[Titan]

This story will continue in the 'Prelude: Æon- Breath on the Waters' Thread...

[Titan]

Continued from the 'Fiat Lux' thread...

Originally Posted By: Richard Stevenson

Rich continued, "I'm on the first plane back to Chicago. I've got a little girl in a coma who needs to be woken up, and I've got bills to pay before they kick me out and the like.

Dr. Briggs and Jason had been more than accomodating. Since the ban on air travel had been lifted on the 2nd, there was no hassle about flying out.

Jason was insistant that they stop off in D.C. for debriefing, so the plane had landed at Ronald Reagan International. Dr. Briggs handed Rich a cap and some sunglasses.

"Here, put these on. Low key isn't really your strong suit right now."

[Courier]

Rich put the cap and glasses on and replied,

"I'm not surprised. Hey, you want to see something? What this..."

Rich reconfigured his eufiber and it grew a hood which he put over his cap and glasses.

"Basic Unibomber. It's not even my power either, there was this guy in the clinic who could create clothes..."

[Titan]

Dr. Briggs nodded.

"Anibal Buendia. I've seen the file. Not sure how that's a 'power', but hey, I can't do it. Creepy, though."

Customs? What's that? You guys breeze through the airport like you own it, and get in a limo. For once, Jason Briggs isn't driving. The limo pulls smoothly away from the curb.

"Ok, NSA wants a debriefing, but so does the White House, so I guess we will go see Clinton first. Man, this is the worst part about travelling abroad. You can be in Cairo for a week, and you spend a week in Arlington reliving the whole trip."

The limo joines with traffic on the Beltway.

[Courier]

Originally Posted By: Titan

Dr. Briggs nodded.

"Anibal Buendia. I've seen the file. Not sure how that's a 'power', but hey, I can't do it. Creepy, though."

Rich responds,

"Yeah, but the alternative is being naked every time I want to fly or whatever. I worry about Anibal's money prospects. He has a power making him the perfect sweat shop employee. I think he got his powers when someone stole his clothes or something."

Quote:

"Ok, NSA wants a debriefing, but so does the White House, so I guess we will go see Clinton first. Man, this is the worst part about traveling abroad. You can be in Cairo for a week, and you spend a week in Arlington reliving the whole trip."

The limo joins with traffic on the Beltway.

Rich almost chokes then recovers. He should have been expecting this, but when he'd told the others the President was involved and, more importantly, that he *should* be... but that wasn't the same as "I'm going to meet the President in 20 minutes."

Rich reconfigured his eufiber into a good suit and tie while still in the car on the beltway.

[Titan]

The limousine pulls off of Pennsylvania Ave, and stops at the Northwest gate. A Secret Service agent checks their identification against a list. He nods, and waves the car forward. As they go through the gate, Jason Briggs points out the sniper on the roof of the White House, still tracking the limo. Rich also notices the anti-aircraft guns on the White House lawn, and the profligation of Army personnel. The driver follows the drive to the right, and pulls smoothly up in front of the lobby entrance to the West Wing.

Dr. Briggs, Jason, and Rich enter the West Wing lobby between the metal detectors. As he passes through, Jason holds open his sports coat, revealing a shoulder holster and a Glock 9mm. He holds out an NSA I.D. with his other hand. The Secret Service agent on duty nods and reaches out to unsnap the holster. He takes the weapon behind the security counter. He notates who they are on his list, and speaks to Rich.

"Please excuse the precautions. We're still learning how to deal with this situation." He motions to two Army officers, who step forward to accompany the small group. One officer carried an item very familiar to Rich, a halogen counter (the current version of the Geiger counter), which he studied intently. Both wore radiation tags. The other carried an M-16, which he aimed at Rich.

Dr. Briggs exclaims, "Hey, is that truly necessary?"

The Secret Service agent nodded, but his expression was one of mild regret. Two other agents appeared, and flanked Rich. Both had weapons drawn.

"I'm very sorry, sir. We don't have any idea how dangerous these Novus people are. We tried like hell to cancel this meeting entirely, but the President wouldn't budge. Our responsibility is to protect the President, and we will do that to the best of our ability. Please be advised that at the first sign of radiation, Mr. Stevenson, you will be shot dead."

[Courier]

Rich pauses and shrugs. He hadn't expected this but if he'd thought of it he would have and it doesn't really mean anything anyway. Choosing his words carefully he says,

"That's fine I guess. Ah... any chances I can have a photo of the President and me together?"

[Titan]

"I'm sure that won't be a problem, Mr. Stevenson. Ah, here she is." The agent gestures towards a woman just entering the lobby. She is middle aged, severely dressed, with horned-rimmed glasses. She glares at the soldiers, and tries to wither the Secret Service agents with a glance. Finally, she smiles at Rich and the Briggses.

"Hello, sorry I'm late, and truly, truly sorry for the security measures. I'm Marlena Yates, one of the President's deputy press secretaries. Let's go, shall we?"

She leads them out of the lobby, down a hallway adorned with portraits of Presidents past. As they pass an open doorway on the right, she flings a practiced arm through the doorframe.

"The Roosevelt Room. Located where President Theodore Roosevelt's West Wing office was, it is a meeting room for staff, and is occasionally used to announce the appointment of new staff."

She continues down the hallway, turns right down another long hallway. She points into another room on the left.

"Cabinet Room. Where the President meets with his Cabinet. Has seen a lot of use in the last couple of weeks, as I'm sure you can imagine."

A man walks by, seemingly talking to himself. He spots the group coming towards him, and his eyes light up.

"Marlena, hey, the announcement tomorrow, I was thinking of a reference to the Eisenhower speech on-"

"Carl, I'm kind of in the middle of something, can you run it by Ben?"

"Ben. Right. Although you know how he feels about-"

"Carl."

"Right. Ok. Hi, folks."

The man continues on, mumbling to himself.

Marlena smiles, and points through another open doorway.

"In here, please. This is the President's secretary, Abigail Wright. Abby, is he..?"

The 60-ish woman behind the desk seemed to have no humor in her fairly large frame.

"Waiting? Yes, Marlena, he is. Go right in."

Marlena opened the door, and stuck her head inside for a moment. Then she flung it wide, and motioned for the group to go before her. She grimaced at the soldiers following Rich, and the Secret Service as they passed her.

The Oval Office. The room seems steeped in power. The view of the White House lawn is stunning; the Presidential Seal in the carpet, huge. The chairs are Chippendale, the sofas are Queen Anne. It is both nothing like it is on T.V. and exactly like it.

William Jefferson Clinton is walking around the desk, a spreading smile on his face. He reaches out his hands, ignoring a cough from the Secret Service men, one hand grasping Rich's, the other holding Rich's arm just above the elbow. He guides Rich to one of the beautiful sofas.

"Rich, hey, great to see you. Hope your flight was ok. Sorry about these goons, sometimes being President is like living in a cage. Here, have a seat. You want a drink? Marlena, get me a Diet Coke while you're over there, hon, thanks. Ok, Rich, shoot. Tell me about it, I want to hear it all."

He looks at Rich expectantly and with his full attention.

[Courier]

Rich shakes hands, sits down, asks for a Sprite, and says,

"Mr. President, it's an honor and a pleasure to meet you... and... becoming Novus was confusing and traumatic. I think a lot of what I remember was just symbolic. I was worried about the atomic rods from the station coming down and contaminating things. I've been worried about my daughter being stuck in a coma for the last 6 years... and my crippled hand has been an ongoing problem for those same six." Rich flexes his left hand and wiggles it's fingers to show it's better.

"Combine those thoughts and you get some bazaar images and a Novus who can clean up radiation spills and Heal with a touch. Or who knows, maybe they'll tell me it was all just a coincident and not something I did to myself." From Rich's tone he doesn't believe it was a coincident.

"The real question is 'What now?' We're super heroes. But we're real people and we've got real physics and a real society. In a comic book I'd get fitted for a cape and start 'fighting crime' or 'robbing jewelry stores'." Rich rolls his eyes with those two phrases,

"In real life, I think Illinois or New York will give me a medical license. Then in my spare time we'll see if those Aeon researchers can reverse engineer a cure for cancer or whatever out of this. First in line is my little girl." There's a wishful note and a deep felt emotional tone in Rich's voice on that last sentence, he's got a lot of hope and maybe fear hanging on this. Then he shakes it off and continues,

"As hobbies go I could do worse. Whether it becomes a full time job is a different question. I've got some ideas on altering my government job some... well, a lot. First priority is being on call for radiation accidents, but thankfully thats rare."

"I'm thinking dealing with nuclear waste is going to cost the US hundreds of Billions of dollars to store and guard and process and what not. I'm not sure on what scale I can eliminate waste, but if it's on a large scale... well... that's one heck of an opportunity for everyone. Of course it'd be a change of my job title and my pay grade, but I think business would love it, they'd be getting a lot more bang for their buck."

"Of course there's a lot of 'ifs' in that line of reasoning. If my powers work the way I think they do, and if I can function on that scale without hurting myself, and if we can get everyone comfortable with the various aspects of this. Right now it's just an idea."

Rich checks to see how the President is reacting to all this.

[Titan]

Bill Clinton looks thoughtful and nods at the idea that nuclear rods may have been loose in a Chicago suburb. His brow furrows in concern and sympathy at the mention of Rich's daughter. He grimaces and shakes his head at the idea that it was all a coincidence. He chuckles when Rich mentions donning a cape and fighting crime, and nods with compassionate understanding at Rich's declaration that his daughter would be healed first.

The President sat in a comfortable chair next to the sofa where Rich perched. The soldiers and Secret Service stayed a discreet distance away, with the exception of the soldier with the halogen counter, who stood behind Rich. Marlena and Dr. Briggs spoke quietly near another door. Jason Briggs had stepped out onto a small patio to smoke a cigarette.

The President spoke.

"I don't pretend to know what it is you are going through, but I recognize, Rich, that it is both a blessing and a burden on you. I know that you are strong enough to accept both, and I assure you that your desire to remain in government and work for the common good is the right one. Novus are going to be a precious commodity in the next few months and years, and I believe that the ones who work for the public welfare will be the ones who ultimately will win the hearts and minds of the people."

As he spoke, the door opened and his secretary, Ms. Wright, entered. She walked over to the President, who paused to lean back with his head cocked as a prelude to her murmuring in his ear. She does not.

In her prim, proper tones, Rich and the rest of the room were shocked to inaction to hear Abby say,

"Eat it, fuckwad."

In a single motion, she drove the letter opener into Clinton's exposed throat. A spray of blood immediately soaked the front of his shirt. His face wore an expression of mild surprise. For a split second, Abigail Wright grinned a lunatic's grin.

The Secret Service men were caught flat-footed, but once aware of the threat, they acted lightning fast. They changed aim from Rich to Abigail Wright in a smooth motion, and fired. The first bullet caught Abby in the shoulder above the heart. The second hit her in the middle of the chest. She fell backwards onto the blue carpet. To his credit, the Soldier never took his eyes or his weapon off of Rich.

Marlena screamed. Jason ran in from the patio, aghast at the scene before him. Even the Secret Service men seemed panicked. Only Dr. Briggs seemed calm. He reached Clinton in two steps, kknelt in front of him, and felt for a pulse. He turned to Rich.

"You'll have to hurry, he's already failing."

[Courier]

Rich had a disjointed sense of surreality. Meeting and talking to the President was a little unreal, it'd never been on his list of possible life events. The President being attacked in front of him was more so. A suicide attack by his secretary triply so. It was a struggle to keep the important things in mind; And the most important thing was there was a trigger happy solider with a big gun pointed at his head.

Rich reacted by staying still.

Originally Posted By: Titan

Marlena screamed. Jason ran in from the patio, aghast at the scene before him. Even the Secret Service men seemed panicked. Only Dr. Briggs seemed calm. He reached Clinton in two steps, knelt in front of him, and felt for a pulse. He turned to Rich.

"You'll have to hurry, he's already failing."

Rich looked at the man holding the gun to his head, met his gaze, and shrugged. In chess terms this was a 'forced move'.

Rich turned his back on the armed man and ignored the itch in the back of his head were the gun was probably pointed. Rich moved to the President and putting his hand over the wound he pulled out the letter opener. Pressing his hand on to the naked wound he tried to pour health into him.

(OOC: If appropriate I'll spend a point of Willpower to restore an Organ)

[Titan]

(OOC: I don't believe that will be necessary)

Rich's palm grew warm as the President's blood streamed through his fingers. He expended the effort necessary, and felt the wound close under his hand. Healing cancer was harder, and Pax had damned near wiped him out. Comparatively, this was cake. It seemed that healing the President was no more momentous than healing anyone else.

As the President coughed and spat, and the room started to fill with the beginnings of relief, Rich felt an oily film on his mind. The sense of the Other was sickening, turning Rich's stomach. He felt the Other rifling through his thoughts, like a petty thief looking for valuables. Finally, the Other turned it's attention to Rich's conscious thoughts.

Fuck are you, man? Think you can waltz in here and UNDO? Some of us are DOers, man. Fuck. You. Maybe you can get the job done, huh?

Rich feels the oily presence seeping deeper into his brain, taking control. He felt the Other's delight at discovering Rich's radiation power. It started to toy with it..

Who- what are you doing? Get OUT, get OUT!

The presence was gone instantly, as though it was never there. Rich felt drained, though the President was only now starting to sit up. The whole thing had taken only seconds.

Help me. Please. I helped you, you know I did, why can't you help me...