Aberrant: In the Beginning - Richard Stevenson

[Courier]

Richard reached out with his mind, selected an appropriate type of radiation and flew up... fast! He thought,

*Good grief I'm fast. That was easier than I remember. I'm getting more skilled at this. That's good because if this doesn't work I'll have to skip Peter's, call the Secret Service, and then fly to Zion instead.*

*All I should have to do is point myself at where I want to end up, stop watching the building go past and go... LIGHTSPEED*

(Attempted Teleport)

Click to reveal..

With the 2q on teleport Rich's pool is at 24q

[Courier]

[Continued in: Painted Clues]

[SalmonMax]

Zion Nuclear Power Facility

Unit 1

Shore of Lake Michigan

Gordon wasn't sure what to expect. When Dave had set the whole shebang up, he'd made it sound pretty simple. They had one of those 'new people' who could clean up the waste pool; invite some press, get it documented, and not only would Zion's storage problem be solved for free, but he'd get credit for the idea. He'd win. Dave'd win. Winwinwin.

But he'd assumed there'd be a car. Or a flying man. Or something! Now he was standing there as reporters straggled in...seven of them now, including three satellite dish vans. One of the TV reporters was doing her hair, another was checking his watch and giving him a look that clearly asked, 'Is this some kind of hoax?'

God, I hope not.

Then there was something like a white streak...a rolling noise like thunder that accompanied a puff of warm wind.

And then there was a man standing there in the all but abandoned parking lot of Zion One. A new man.

A collective gasp went up from the reporters, and bored cameramen frantically grabbed their machines and brought them to bear as men and women found mics and surged forward.

Even so, Gordon had the first word.

"Uh...R...Richard Stevenson?"

[Courier]

After teleporting Richard looked around and only saw waves. For one awful moment he wondered if he was on the right planet. Then he flew up, looked over his shoulder, and saw buildings. He'd overshot by miles... he was going to be too late.

With that concern Rich almost subconsciously shifted into a higher gear and boom, zoomed off. *Good grief, how fast is this? I must be getting up towards the speed of sound!*

20 minutes later he was only a couple of minutes late for his big entrance.

Quote:

Then there was something like a white streak...a rolling noise like thunder that accompanied a puff of warm wind.

And then there was a man standing there in the all but abandoned parking lot of Zion One. A new man.

A collective gasp went up from the reporters, and bored cameramen frantically grabbed their machines and brought them to bear as men and women found mics and surged forward.

*Fashionably late. Now look like you planned that. Hold the paintings in the left hand at your side. Remember to smile. Now where is... Reporter, Reporter, hot babe reporter, must be TV... ah! He's wearing an 'I'm f*cked' card and a suit, must be Gordon. Now what was his last name?*

Quote:

Gordon had the first word, "Uh...R...Richard Stevenson?"

With a big smile Rich stepped forward and shook Gordon's hand saying, "Gordon! Good to see you again!" *I don't remember meeting him when I was here last but that was two years ago.* "Yes, the face has changed a lot but I'm still Richard. Thank you for inviting me here today, I agree, this is a good idea."

Rich turned to the cameras and said confidently, "I'm a novus with Nuclear Safety Powers." *To a first approximation, we'll leave the lecture mode off this time.* "That doesn't stop with healing, I can also neutralize radioactive waste." *That's right, state it like you're sure you know what you're doing. These are reporters, they know less about this than you do.*

"I mentioned that to Dave Palmatier, he and Gordon are friends..." *Except for the fact that they've never met to my knowledge.* "...and Gordon and Dave came up with this test."

"There's tons of highly radioactive waste here..." Rich motioned to some of the massive containers and the pool, "...And I'm going to de-irradiate them all." *I hope.*

"So any questions?"

Seven reporters tried to speak and Rich motioned to one of men, who said, "So, you're basically going to heal an atomic power plant?"

Rich managed to avoid wincing at the man's question and said confidently, "Basically yes. Any other questions?"

[Titan]

Please see the Conclusion to Chapter 2 for the missing events between the last post and this one

...

Richard Stevenson sat at a dinner table with Dr. David Brown, Nuclear Physicist and business partner. Dave was still one of the smartest men that Rich knew, but he struggled to decide on a bottle of wine to order with dinner.

The day had been surreal. The struggle for dominance at Zion was apparently unknown to anyone but Rich, and the aftermath was surprisingly easy to turn to their advantage.

"Maybe the Pinot Noir?" Dave finally pointed out his choice for the waitress, and she nodded, writing as she walked away.

Dave shrugged comically at Richard, who smiled wearily. Concern for his friend evident on his face, Dave leaned forward and asked,

"You talked to them, then?"

Rich nodded.

"They're 'looking into it'. Probably a prison in New England, is my guess."

"Do you think they are taking it seriously?" Dave asked.

"I think so. They seem to be, yes."

Dave leaned back. He smiled, tentatively.

"Then there's nothing more to do. So, let it go for now, and enjoy yourself. We really did something today."

They had spent the afternoon signing incorporation papers, and planning strategy. It looked as though the waste disposal business was going to be reality. He scoured his awareness suddenly for any sense that his actions were not truly his, that his feelings were still under his control. Rich took a deep breath. This was, after all, a celebratory dinner.

The wine came, with one glass. The waitress offered the label to Dave, who nodded. She quickly, with practiced motions, de-foiled the neck, and popped the cork. She poured a thimbleful of wine into the glass, and gave it to Dave. He swirled it once, with a self-mocking look at Rich, and downed the swallow. He nodded again. She poured the glass full.

"Are you certain that you would not like a glass, sir?"

It was almost a relief, when he thought about it, to have a regular problem facing him for a change.

[Courier]

Originally Posted By: Titan

"You talked to them, then?"

Rich nodded.

"They're 'looking into it'. Probably a prison in New England, is my guess."

"Do you think they are taking it seriously?" Dave asked.

"I think so. They seem to be, yes."

'Talked to them' was a massive understatement. Rather than explain he had a magic-painting which could predict the future and show the present, Rich had told the Secret Service that Mr. Bang had contacted him again.

Serial Killers liked toying with people and could reasonably let slip more than they wanted, Bang had contacted him before. Rich's information on Mr. Bang's race and that he was institutionalized thus had firm, if uncheckable, status. Rich had also deliberately withheld that Mr. Bang didn't seem interested in killing the President anymore. The Service would work better with motivation, Mr. Bang had already supplied them with a lot. They'd sent a car to pick up Bang's letter, if Bang had left his finger prints on it then it was just a matter of time.

Rich reflected it was probably just a matter of time anyway. Assuming Bang made 'enemies' where ever he went and that he went nowhere, there had to be a prison experiencing an unusual number of 'random' deaths. Just knowing which prison might be enough. Or Bang might get some spare time on his hands and get serious about Rich's family. Make a truck driver pull the steering wheel to the left and turn Rich's family into a pancake.

Rich told himself firmly Bang would want to toy with him for a lot longer before he did anything. If he told himself that enough maybe he'd believe it.

Originally Posted By: Titan

"Are you certain that you would not like a glass, sir?"

Rich stared at the bottle which called to him seductively. Truth was he would like a glass. He could probably handle it. The standard Novus metabolism meant he could probably drink the entire bottle without getting drunk. He probably wasn't even an alcoholic anymore. No, not even probably, almost certainly.

Would one drink really be that bad? What's the worse that could happen?

Rich mentally sighed and replied, "No thank you. But a glass of Sprite and another steak would be great."

The worst that could happen is he could turn Chicago into a radioactive wasteland. He needed to stop by AA tonight. That was the one thing he couldn't let slide. The first step towards real problems was denial that you had a problem. Maybe Bang would leave him alone, maybe he could take a drink.

Maybe his daughter Emily would be fine without serious intervention.

Rich said, "Dave, do you know any good tutors or have any advise for a kid missing six years of school?"

[Titan]

Dave grew serious and nodded his understanding. He looked thoughtful for a moment, and seemed about to reply when the food came. The waitress held two plates in her hands, and one resting on her forearm.

"Ribeye, medium rare for you sir." She placed a plate in front of Dave.

"And two Porterhouses, medium, for you." She looked amused as she placed both plates at Rich's setting.

"More bread...no?" Dave waved her off. "Enjoy it, gentlemen!"

As she walked away, Dave leaned in.

"I don't really know, Rich. I see these commercials for this Sylvan Learning place. But I think you would take her there, so it's like a school. I'm sure that in home tutoring is available, but I don't know how you would go about tracking someone for that down." he mashed the butter and sour cream into his potato as he spoke, and sawed a corner off of his ribeye. He paused, fork in midair.

"Or, what about online tutoring? Have they got anything like that available, yet, do you think?" He took a bite.

"One thing is for sure," he said through his mouthful of steak and potato, "there is no need to think small. You are about to be a very wealthy man, my friend."

[Courier]

Rich smiled and replied, "Chickens unhatched my friend. Not that I disagree, and wealth is a good problem to have." Rich raised his glass of Sprite and toasted ironically, "To starting a small business."

The company would work. Rich's stunt... or whoever's stunt... at Zion had made ConEd one to three Billion dollars richer. That kind of money was a force like gravity.

Dave would play up the 'it might only be a limited amount of time before the gov steps in and makes Rich cure cancer' angle and 'Rich is a busy man' angle and take bids. That would set the price high right out of the starting gate.

Rich thought they could make 20-50 million dollars per site. Dave thought 200-500. The US had more than 30 sites by itself. The company would work.

Rich didn't mind throwing money at Em's situation, but money was a tool, not a solution. She clearly needed a lot more help than just sitting in front of a computer. When the problem gets too big, it's time to bring in a professional.

Rich commented, "I think I'll talk to some experts in education and child psychology and the like about who to get for Em. Chicago has hospitals and colleges. Asking an expert who I should talk to about this makes sense as a first step."

[Titan]

Dave nodded sagely over his dinner.

"That's probably best. After all, we ourselves are experts. We would certainly expect someone who has concerns about nuclear safety to consult us, rather than try to figure out what to do by themselves."

The waitress came back to the table. She inquired how dinner was.

"Fine," said Dave, without looking up.

She smiled and nodded to Rich.

"The bartender told me who you are. That's very cool. Enjoy your meal. Ask for Wendy if you need anything."

She turned away.

[Courier]

Rich nodded and replied, "Thank you Wendy." The waitress was young and pretty. As Rich watched her walk away he reflected he really should start dating again.

Sam wouldn't mind. Alice had been dead long enough that it was real for her. Emily... right. From her perspective Alice and Bob Jr had been alive yesterday. No potential for trouble there. Although if resuming dating was the fifth priority on his list of things to do, then it wouldn't happen for a long time.

And thinking of time...

Rich hadn't recognized the 'familiar' presence at Zion immediately. However there was only one novus on record who could turn off radioactives, and that was what 'the other' novus had done. With that fact staring at him in the mirror, who the 'familiar', but much stronger, presence had to be was clear. Unfortunately this immediately led to thoughts of time travel, paradox, and how many angels could dance on the head of a pin.

Presumably Future-Rich had his best interests at heart and knew what he was doing. This implied Mr. Bang wouldn't prove to be the threat he appeared, or maybe he was already a pile of radioactive ash in some jail cell. It also implied there really was a temporal aspect to his powers. Or perhaps it was a random, one off incident. Time Quake. Time War. Future-Rich cashing in a favor from someone else. Whatever. Right now current-Rich would proceed without thinking about angels and pins and assume it'd make sense in time.

Rich said, "Dave... speaking of experts and non-experts screwing things up... something to think about here. We're going to be making absurd amounts of money, we're going to be high profile, and we're also touching on matters already political. It will take a year or two to sink in how much we're making but then the politicians are going to get involved, and we both know that's not a good thing."

Nuclear power's issues were entirely political. 535 lawyers botching, sometimes deliberately, not-simple-but-already-solved engineering problems. It was a fact of life. Rich knew it like he knew the Sun would rise in the East.

Rich added, "It's not just the issue of Congress deciding that the novus are too important to work for the private sector. There the real potential here for the equivalent of 12 white jury members deciding that the KKK isn't that bad. Novus relations are too important to let novus laws to be made without a voice. After a few contracts come in, I think it will be time to form a political action committee or two and make sure our interests are represented."

[Titan]

Dave chuckled.

"Then, Rich my friend, it may very well be time to form your PAC. I was going to wait until dessert, but Stu LaJoie called from ComEd. He wants a meeting, A.S.A.P. The rest of the grid is on its heels, but the rest of them will call."

Dave sopped up steak juice and potato with half of a breadroll.

"Stu mentioned Dresden and Cordova, and you know what that means. He'd be at this dinner if he could."

Dave sipped his wine.

"Using numbers in the hundreds of millions, if he's at all serious."

Dave looked at his friend gravely but still with a hint of a smile.

"The chickens may not quite be hatched, Rich, but the eggs are cracking."

He wiped his mouth with his napkin and placed it on his plate. He rose from his chair.

"So get your child psychologist, or whatever expert you need, and think about that PAC. The train is leaving the station. I'll be back."

Dave wandered towards the restrooms, and Wendy arrived at the table, with a Sprite refill, and taking Dave's plate. As she worked, she seemed pensive. Finally, she asked,

"Did he say that you were looking for a child psychologist?"

[Courier]

Rich smiled at Dave's 'hundreds of millions' comment. That was a point of disagreement he'd be happy to lose. All they had to do was react quicker than Congress, and that should be easy.

Originally Posted By: Titan

Dave wandered towards the restrooms, and Wendy arrived at the table, with a Sprite refill, and taking Dave's plate. As she worked, she seemed pensive. Finally, she asked,

"Did he say that you were looking for a child psychologist?"

Rich nodded and said, "Yes. Emily, my youngest, is 13 and just woke up from a six year coma. The world has changed a lot, she's changed a lot, and she missed... everything. For her it was in the literal blink of an eye, and that's even before telling her that her brother and mother are dead. Parenting class doesn't really cover this one." And her dad looks a decade or two younger than she remembers.

Rich added, "Do you know someone?"

[Titan]

Wendy nodded.

"I'm in the University of Chicago Medical program. I'm not leaning towards psychology, I want to be a surgeon, but..."

She shifted, automatically catching the fork against the side of the plate when it slid.

"Dr. Liu is supposed to be one of the top people in the field. She is visiting professor this year. I'm positive she'd love the consult."

She smiled, embarrassed.

"Anyway. Sorry. Do you need anything else?"

[Courier]

Rich paid very close attention after Wendy said she was in U of C's medical. He replied, "Don't be sorry, that was exactly what I needed to know. Thank you." Ask when she gets off. "And that's enough steak for me. Ah... who should I say gave me Dr. Liu's name?

Coward. Wrong time, wrong location, and I'm due back home. I'll leave her a big tip and a good word with her Prof.

[Titan]

The waitress looked at Rich for a moment, then slowly set the dishes on the table. She reached behind her, pulled out a leather waiter's wallet and flipped it open. She looked at Rich again, then crouched down next to the table and clicked her pen. She said, as she wrote,

"I'll do you one better. Call me, and I'll set it up for you."

She ripped a ticket off of a pad and held it out to Richard.

"Here's my number."

Dave walked up behind her, eyebrows raised.

[Courier]

Ignoring Dave for the moment Rich smiled warmly at Wendy and said, "Thank you again. Is morning good? Say 8am?"

Rich reflected it was a minor miracle Engineers ever dated at all. How did he ever start dating Alice? Lots of luck if memory serves.

After Rich finished talking to Wendy and she walked away, he commented to Dave, "Wendy is a medical student at the University and one of her Profs is a big name child psychologist."

[Titan]

Dave looked slightly disbelieving, but nodded slowly.

"What are the chances?" was his only comment.

Dave paid the bill with his credit card without so much as glancing at Rich. While he waited for his receipt, however, he changed the subject.

"Hey, I tendered my resignation today. You should probably do the same, to avoid conflict of interest. Don was happy to give me a months pay in lieu of two weeks notice."

He noted Rich's response, then said,

"I called Stu Lajoie. He wants to sit down tomorrow morning. I told him 10 would be fine. I can go myself, if you can't make it, but I think it would be helpful to have you there."

[Courier]

Originally Posted By: Titan

Dave looked slightly disbelieving, but nodded slowly.

"What are the chances?" was his only comment.

Rich said, "It's an amazingly small world."

Originally Posted By: Titan

Dave paid the bill with his credit card without so much as glancing at Rich. While he waited for his receipt, however, he changed the subject.

"Hey, I tendered my resignation today. You should probably do the same, to avoid conflict of interest. Don was happy to give me a months pay in lieu of two weeks notice."

Rich frowned and said, "Ah, heck. I knew I'd forgotten to do something today. How did I manage to..."

That and clearing out your desk was on the list of things to do, then Cheryl contacted you, then Mr. Bang's letter showed up. Dealing with that nut trumps everything.

"...never mind. Good idea."

Don gets in at 7am. Right then tomorrow you call him. Forget 2 weeks notice or checks. Make it effective last pay check, you haven't been in there in weeks anyway.

Originally Posted By: Titan

"I called Stu Lajoie. He wants to sit down tomorrow morning. I told him 10 would be fine. I can go myself, if you can't make it, but I think it would be helpful to have you there."

Rich nodded and replied, "His office I assume?"

Dave nodded and Rich continued, "Good. And I think we both need to be there. Me for Dogs and Ponies. You to make darn sure I don't agree to anything without the right number of zeros. That might be the point of this."

After wrapping up any last minute business with Dave, Rich intends to catch a cab to the next AA meeting.

[Titan]

" God, grant us the...

Serenity to accept things we cannot change,

Courage to change the things we can, and the

Wisdom to know the difference

Patience for the things that take time

Appreciation for all that we have, and

Tolerance for those with different struggles

Freedom to live beyond the limitations of our past ways, the

Ability to feel your love for us and our love for each other and the

Strength to get up and try again even when we feel it is hopeless. "

In the assembly hall of the Trinity Methodist Church, the eleven men and four women sat down in their folding chairs. One woman remained standing. She nodded around the circle. She caught Rich's eye, and nodded to him.

"My name is Laura, and I'm an alcoholic," she said, matter of factly.

"Hi, Laura." The group responded.

"I'm glad you are all here. I see some new faces, and that makes me happy. Welcome. Share, or listen, whichever you want. Go get coffee. This is a smoking meeting, but not everyone smokes, so please smoke over by the coffee."

She took a deep breath, and let it out slowly.

"And now, who wants to share some encouragement they experienced this week? Or were you tested this week?" She looked around at the group. One of the women raised her hand immediately. Laura nodded to her. The girl stood.

"Hello everyone, my name is Kenyatta and I am an alcoholic and drug addict." Laura stepped between two chairs and walked around the circle. She caught Rich's eye.

"Hi Kenyatta!"

Laura motioned to the coffee and snack table, her eyebrows raised inquisitively.

[Courier]

Rich nodded to Laura, went to the table quietly, poured himself a cup of coffee and politely listened to Kenyatta. He tried and failed to suppress a smile at Laura's raised eyebrow.

He'd been here before. He'd even talked to Laura before. But between the business suit and all the other changes he thought she didn't recognize him. Of course although his face and changed a lot, his voice hadn't so...

Rich said softly in greeting, "It's me."

[Titan]

Laura retrieved a Pall Mall from a blue pack of cigarettes, and placed it between her lips. She flicked her lighter, and touched the flame to the tip of her cigarette, her cheeks sunken with the pressure of drawing in the smoke. She removed the cigarette, and inhaled. A trail of smoke went into her eye, and she blinked rapidly. She exhaled mightily.

"Yes, Richard, I know it is you. I do own a TV." This could have been cutting, from Laura it came out playful. She quickly grew serious, though.

"How is Emily? I mean, how is she taking it? Her mother's death is fresh for her, isn't it?"

She looked around at the meeting, where Kenyatta was telling her weekly tale of encouragement. She could always be counted on to have an uplifting story, and to be eager to tell it. It gave them a moment of privacy.

"Are you sure you want to come to this meeting, still? I tried to toss you a hint with my 'new faces' comment. There really are some new people here. Are you positive that they won't trade your alcoholism to the Enquirer for fifty grand?"

She puffed on her cig, and took a long drink of terrible coffee.

[Courier]

Rich sighed. That was a good question. This room was only partly a sanctuary. The rules were clear, what was said here stayed here. But that was just convention, if someone did what she said the worst the group could do is not let them come back.

While he thought about it Rich answered Laura's other question saying, "Em is..." Rich paused and didn't say the word 'fine'. This was a room for truth and Laura deserved better.

Rich tried again, "Em just found she'd lost her mother, brother, and herself. She's a seven year old in a thirteen year old body. It's too soon to know."

And speaking of knowing bad choices, what are yours? Stand up or walk away? Engineers like binary solutions. Are there any others?... Yeah, but they're even worse.

Rich said softly, "I don't know they won't talk to the Enquirer. But I do know I almost took a drink an hour ago. If I walk away from here I'll be drinking in a week. You don't beat it alone and you lose by trying to hide. Denial is doom."

[Titan]

Laura expressed sympathy for Emily's plight. She placed her hand on Richard's arm.

"If there is anything I can do to help, please let me know. I'm more than your sponsor, Rich, I hope you know that. I'm your friend as well."

She removed her hand, and looked at the group, now in the throes of catharsis, from Kenyatta's tale of triumph.

"I worry about you, though. I think the media will eat you alive if they ever get a whiff of this. The things you can do are amazing, and so far, the news has made you guys out to be golden children."

She took another puff of her cigarette, then stubbed it out in a sand-filled pot next to the folding table with the coffee.

"The only thing the public likes more than a golden boy, Rich, is to bring him down for his feet of clay. Be careful, is all I'm saying."

[Courier]

Rich considered what Laura was saying again and didn't see a choice. Much better to have feet of clay in public than to go on a binge and destroy Chicago. The first priority had to be to keep himself on the right track because if he didn't do that then he had nothing, not even his family.

Rich shook his head and replied, "You're right and thank you, just saying it to me means a lot. I'll try. But... there's things I can't speak of that make this more important than ever."

Rich waited for his turn.

[Titan]

Laura shrugged.

"You know yourself best, Rich. Ok." She went back to the circle, and patted Kenyatta on the back. She gave the younger woman a hug. Leaking a bit, Kenyatta smiled and wiped her eyes as she sat back in her folding chair.

Laura turned to the group, "It's always there, isn't it? And looking back at times that you have stayed strong feels good. But it can make you feel like a liar. It makes me feel like a liar, sometimes. It's like, I haven't had a drink in just over sixteen years. That's longer than I was alive when I started drinking, so it is the longest dry stretch of my entire life, not just my adult one."

She smiled that wry smile at the group again. She scratched her arm, pulled another cigarette from her pack and tapped it on the back of her hand. She spoke again, suddenly.

"But that doesn't mean I'm not an alcoholic. Most people that know me, know that I am, but they don't know that I want to drink every day. They don't know that about me."

She gestured to her chest.

"And that makes me feel like a liar. They think I am strong, and I am in some ways... but I am also weak. I am unbelievably weak."

She gazed at the group with haunted eyes. Kenyatta began crying softly, again. But Laura's cheeks stayed dry.

"Coming here makes me feel strong. Out there... out there not as much. So I fake it. And someday, I'll make it."

She looked everyone over. She took a deep breath, smiled broadly, let it out as a bark of laughter.

"And so will you! I'm gonna smoke, but who wants to share something? Anybody have something to add?"

[Courier]

Rich held up his hand and said, "Me", then walked over. He stated flatly, almost forcefully, "My name is Richard, and I am an alcoholic."

"Hi, Richard." The group responded.

Rich said evenly, like he was quoting or remembering, "This time it's different. This time I'm different. This time everthing is different. This time I'm in control. This time it can't happen to me."

Rich changed his tone to indicate he was talking and not quoting, "I've thought all of those things at one time or another, and they've all been lies. Nobody gets better, nobody wins more than one day. A month ago I thought I understood that. Today... today it's a real effort to believe it. I've back slid right to the edge."

Rich held up two fingers an inch apart, "A few weeks ago I went Novus. I can cure cancer, regrow limbs, and a bunch of other impossible things. When you can cure cancer, 'This time it's different' starts sounding a lot more reasonable. Rich snorted and said, "And I can't cure alcoholism. I tried, it doesn't work that way."

Rich gave a frustrated hand wave and said, "What makes this harder than it used to be is 'This time it's different' might not be a lie. The basic novus package includes a sky high tolerance for drugs, including alcohol. Some go a lot further than that. More than one novus at the clinic couldn't get drunk. Some can't reasonably drink the gallons it would take. Others could be chained to the bottom of an ocean of alcohol and it wouldn't matter."

Rich waited a few moments for that to sink in then said, "So it might not be a lie, but to test that, I'd need to take a drink."

Rich took a deep breath. It was time to tell the full truth and stop hiding. "And... I want to. Not to further science, not to investigate potentials, not to test anything or because the rules might have changed. I want to drink just to drink. It's the last thing I think about before I go to sleep. It's the first thing I think about when I get up. No matter what else has happened to me, I'm still an alcoholic."

[Titan]

The house was quiet when Rich let himself in the front door. For a moment, he felt a thrill of irrational fear. Except, with Mr. Bang out there somewhere, that fear might actually be pretty rational. He closed the door, gently, and peered around the corner, into the living room. "Hello?"

Bob leaned forward on the couch. He had been hidden by the lamp, from Rich's perspective. Rich heaved a mental sigh. Bob put a finger in between the pages of the book he was reading, a hardbound copy of Insomnia, by Stephen King. He stood.

"Hey," he said quietly, "Big day. We watched it on the news. Emily kept flipping channels, to get different footage. She's quite taken with her dad." He smiled, and stretched, the heavy book held above his head with one hand. He walked to the bookshelves above the TV. He spoke over his shoulder.

"And, Rich, I'm taken with her. I can't stop looking at her. She is a beautiful young woman. So much like her mom at that age, it fairly takes my breath away." Having shelved the book, he placed both his hands on his lower back and leaned this way and that, as though to loosen tight muscles. He turned.

"We've been talking like schooling and such are the biggest adjustments she'll have to make. You know what is going to be hardest on her and you, I bet?"

Bob smiled wryly.

"Boys."

[Courier]

Rich winced wryly and replied, "Boys will be hard..." Oh I did NOT just say that "...but they're a good problem to have." Unspoken was the remembrance of Em sleeping her life away. "I'm glad the new Em is getting and giving good first impressions. How is she doing?"

Rich added, "I ran into a Chicago U student who claimed one of the best child psychologists in the field is a Prof there. I'm going to call her tomorrow morning about that and try to set up a meeting."

[Titan]

Bob nodded in satisfaction.

"I am glad to see you moving quickly on that, son. It's important, and I'm proud of you. Alice would be proud of you, too."

The moment stretched out in front of them.

Then Bob smiled, looked at his watch, and frowned.

"Uh-oh. Got to get moving, kiddo."

He patted Richard on the arm, grabbed his coat, threw it over shoulder. He called quietly over his shoulder as he opened the door:

"You're doing great, Richard."

The door closed behind him.

[Courier]

Alice would be proud of you, too.

Rich stared at the door Bob had gone through and for a moment pictured what should have, could have happened. The car crash. His family dying around him. First he would have healed himself, then Alice, then Bob, then Em. Alice was hurt worse than he could heal in one go, but if he just stabilized her he could clean up everything later. Make it all better. Undo all the mistakes of his life. If Alice had survived and his hand hadn't been crippled he never would have turned to the bottle.

And as long as he was making wishes, he'd also like a pony. The world didn't work that way.

Rich mentally turned away from what might have been and walked into the other rooms to check up on his hopefully sleeping daughters.

[Titan]

Richard ducked into Emily's room. The sight of his young teenage daughter in her own bed continued to make him smile. He recognized and discarded the impulse to shake her awake, just to be sure. Instead, he covered her with the kicked-off comforter and smoothed her hair out of her face. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

He peeked into Samantha's room. She had fallen asleep with the lights on, a 'Marie Claire' magazine open on her chest. Rich took and closed the magazine, tucked her in, and turned off the light. From the door, he gazed back at her sleeping face. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

He walked into his bedroom, and turned to go into the bathroom. Alice was already in bed, working the crossword puzzle and nibbling the eraser. He smiled gently and flipped the light in the bathroom on. He turned on the cold water and grabbed his toothbrush. His hand began to shake. He looked at himself in the mirror.

[Courier]

Rich clenched his fist and stared at the mirror. Reality crashed back. Alice was dead. DEAD. As in, 'not waiting for him dead'. Em was back, Alice wasn't and wouldn't be. His face... his face was a lie. A little awkwardly he reached around with his right hand to cover the far left side of his face. That was better. He was more used to the idea of the scars on his face than the Alice shaped hole in his heart. God, he needed a drink

Rich glanced at his left hand and unclenched his fist and replaced his right hand with his left. No, that was better. By habit he still didn't use his left hand. Ever time he looked in the mirror it was like looking at a stranger. A much younger cousin, or maybe a long lost brother he never met. But not him. His face was a lie.

Wendy had brought that home. No look of fascinated horror. No studied looking away. Random people didn't look past the face at first meet. Rich let his hand drop. His face was a lie, but it was easy to ignore. He only used a mirror to shave.

He'd live with it and maybe it'd feel natural eventually. No choice. Maybe eventually he'd stop expecting Alice to be waiting for him too.

[Titan]

Richard awoke with a gasp.

He shut off the alarm. It was 6 a.m. He had wanted to be awake before the girls. From the sound of the house, as he lay there blinking away sleep, he had succeeded.

He glanced at the other side of the bed. It was barely disturbed, in fact looked almost freshly made. He nodded involuntarily to himself. Sometime during the night, he had awakened, or so he thought. Feeling the familiar body curled against his back, he had chalked it up to a bad dream and drifted asleep again. But, of course, that was the dream.

Yesterday had gone incredibly well. The day before had gone even better. He still missed his wife, that much was clear. Maybe missed her even more because of how fresh the pain was for Emily. Or because he was starting to think about women again. How would today be?

He flung the covers off, and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

[Courier]

Rich stretched. He felt pretty good, like he'd had 9 hours of sleep and not 6. Nothing like success and pleasant dreams to start the day. Maybe he'd forgo coffee.

Rich quickly showered, made the bed, dressed, then moved to the kitchen to start breakfast. Rich flexed his left hand and looked at it for a moment. Two handed cooking wasn't impractical any more. He could make scrambled eggs.

After a quick check of his fridge he realized no eggs meant no scrambled eggs. Rob knew he never used them. Well then... Cereal, milk, & toast. Rich ate, turned on the news with the volume low, and at 7am on the nose he phoned Don. Time to resign.

[Titan]

Rich sat in the kitchen eating his cereal, watching the countertop T.V. Outside the window, he confirmed what the weatherman was saying on the news. It was raining sideways. Gusts of wind were shaking the gutters, and water ran in sheets down the glass panes.

He finished his cereal, and was getting ready to wash his bowl when he saw footage of a London press conference on the screen. His friends had saved 79 people from drowning in the Atlantic. The camera was good to them, he noticed.

He was washing his dish, and he heard the wrap-up of the hour start. He looked at the clock. 6:54.

"Next hour, on Waking up with Willie, Willie and Cat talk to W.H.O. Deputy Administrator, Dr. Yuji Go about the Novus. What they can do is only the beginning, he says...."

Rich got the cordless phone out of its cradle and dialed Don's number. The phone rang. He put his hand on the knob of the T.V. to turn it off.

"And, in Maryland, officials at the Central Maryland Correctional Facility are under investigation for a mass escape that was reported this morning, but occurred almost two days ago...."

The phone rang in his ear.

"Here, from one of the guards, on how fourteen of the most dangerous inmates at the facility managed to hide their escape, " the scene changed to a man in an ill-fitting brown uniform. He looks more than stressed, more than worried, less, perhaps, than sane.

"It was like... I would notice that one of them was gone, but then something in my head would... would just forget it." He looked away from the camera shamefaced."

In his ear, Rich heard, "Don Engle's office, thank you for calling, how may I help you?"

[Courier]

Rich frowned. Novus mind guy prison escape on the East Coast? Bang? He turned down the volume rather than turning it off. It was two days ago and front page news.

With more attention on the TV than on the phone, Rich rolled out his prepared speech.

Rich said, "Don? This is Rich Stevenson. I know I've been on medical leave for several weeks, and after thinking about it, I wanted you to hear directly from me that I'm resigning. I'm very sorry but it'd be a conflict of interest with everything else I've got going. You should just cancel my last check."

[Titan]

The T.V. had started the opening montage for 'Waking up with Willie'. Willie's smiling face replaced with Cat's more serious journalistic mien. In the phone, Don was talking:

"Hey Rich, I've been expecting your call since I talked to Dave yesterday. I completely understand, but I would like to keep you in mind as a consultant. To that end, I'd like to forgo canceling your last check, and instead make it a retainer of a year's salary. I've already checked with the Director, and she has okayed it, if you are willing."

Willie and Cat were bantering back and forth about inconsequentials.

[Courier]

Almost on remote, Rich replied, "Sure, of course I am. Be sure to run it past Dave though. Thank you very much Don, it's been an honor and a pleasure working for you." Rich exchanged pleasantries then hung up.

Now what did I just agree too? ...Something about consulting. It doesn't matter.

Stay calm Rich. That doesn't have to be Mr. Bang who got out and he's not in this room right now anyway.

Sure, it must be some OTHER East coast, institutionalized, really nasty criminal who has become a Novus with mind-f*ck powers. How many are we? 35? 150? Pick 150 random people and give them random powers. How many will match that description?

It's him. He's been out for two days. So far he's been focused on making that guard forget. Interesting that he didn't just kill him or make him kill himself. Maybe the President's secretary hates him?

Two days means... it'd be a real stretch for him to get from there to Chicago in that time. But he knows where I live, the only reason I didn't relocate was because I knew he was locked up. So it's time to move. Real question is whether that will do any good. I really should call Alison Pfalzgraff and see what she can tell me about the limits of telepathy. No, make that what she's willing to tell me. Come to think of it, she's also from Chicago.

Wait, he's tipped his hand a bit too here. He's one of 14 people, all of whom have serious criminal records. Let's give the Secret Service a call and let them know about this... although they hopefully already know. More importantly, lets get pictures and such of those guys. Let me recognize them in person and maybe give Peter Bell something more to work on.

Rich tried to call the secret service and see what they could/would do for him.

[Titan]

Richard was immediately put through to Director Merletti. His warning about the escape from Central Maryland Correctional was taken seriously.

"Mr. Stevenson, we will absolutely follow up on that. It came across my desk already, to tell you the truth, but your confirmation is welcome. I sent a unit this morning, but now I'm going to send a unit to Chicago and notify the F.B.I. there. I'll be honest, sir. I can't wait until tomorrow. The sooner we have some Novus on the job the better."

Rich had nearly forgotten that tomorrow was Monday. The day that Clinton was going to put his name forward as Deputy Assistant Secretary of the Treasury. The idea still seemed ludicrous, but there it was.

Emily peeked around the corner of the kitchen, and saw her dad. She smiled sleepily and shuffled in. She kissed his cheek, and went to the pantry. Flinging the door to the pantry open, she siezed a box of Fruit Loops off of the top shelf. She looked surprised, then smiled at Rich.

"I'm tall," she said with some satisfaction.

[Courier]

Rich smiled with relief at his daughter. She was here. She was safe. Rich replied, "That you are."

Rich said into the phone, "OK, do what you can to make those guys a priority. Between what they are known to be and the press it shouldn't be hard. You might want to put their faces on the TV. I know that's a mixed blessing but we want to give them something to occupy their time and efforts other than what he's already tried."

"And I really need their pictures and files. I have ways to pursue this... um..." Rich ended his statement awkwardly. The less anyone knew about his novus contacts the better.