Chapter 1

(in which our hero discovers his new special abilities & uses them to rescue a teenaged dickhead)

It’s raining outside my window and if I squint in the blue half-light from the streetlight the bruise on my arm looks like a spider. If I concentrate I can make it spread over my whole arm like warm pins and needles. What the hell kind of bruise can do that?

If I concentrate really hard the pins and needles flow out from my fingers. It makes the air in front of my hand feel kind of warm. I can push the warm air outwards just by thinking about it.

The thrumming of the pins and needles gets faster the further out I push. It’s like a sleeve-length blood pressure cuff that reaches down past my fingers, but it doesn’t restrict any movement.

I push the warm air out towards the magazine pile on the coffee table, and I feel them as though I’m actually touching them. From across the room I ruffle the pages of the top magazine, then imagine that I’m picking it up. It rises into the air and hovers there.

Take a snapshot: this is me, frowning with concentration and staring in disbelief as the Vanity Fair hovers one foot above the coffee table.

By morning I think I’ve got the basics; lifting, pulling and pushing at a distance all seem easy enough. I’m also late for work. I relax my thoughts and the purple colour of my arm contracts back to the coin-sized spot just below my shoulder. I grab a banana from the bowl on the kitchen bench, using my hands for the first time in hours. it feels weird.

so. superpowers, hey? Can’t think of anything else to call it. But where from? No supers in the family – at least not that I know of… I’m thinking something screwy with that typhoid jab, or maybe the hep one. based on where the bruising started, that’s what it looks like.

i dunno what to think, really. latent supergene triggered by the medication? But I’ve had those vaccinations before and nothing like this… seems more likely it’s the medication itself.

i should probably call the hospital – but what do I say? “Hi, I was just calling to see if anyone who came in for travel vaccinations yesterday has turned into a superhero.” Yeah, that’d work.

And will they let me on an international flight if I declare this stuff? Do airport detectors ping superpowers? Should I cancel my trip? Better keep it all on the QT until I’ve done some research.

Hey, check it out! I’m a fugitive superhuman on the run from the government!

Pull your head in, Aramis. A purple arm that can make things float doesn’t make you the next freakin’ Spider-Man or anything…

***

I get to work and Hannah isn’t in yet. Which means I’m the one who gets the call from upstairs about the report in today’s paper. One of the big pharmacy chains missed last week’s product recall – not technically our fault, but we’re still on damage control.

Gotta love those fifteen-minute-desk-lunch days. It’s not until after four that things calm down enough to make a few calls.

First call: hospital. “Hello this is Blah Blah from MuckaMuckaMuck. I have an erroneously returned typhoid medication order of yours…”

“Oh you didn’t order any Typhoid meds through us? You get yours from YaddaYadda? Whoops – my mistake. Sorry to bother you.”

Call #2: Rashid in R&D. Any chance of digging for dirt re: recalls or suppressed/unreported side-effects coming out of YaddaYadda?

R: “Sure thing, d’Artagnan. Easily done. Mind me asking pour quoi?”

Me: Can’t really say right now. Just following up some leads for Hannah.

R: “Well, we don’t want to disappoint your gracious leader, do we? Leave it with me, Monsieur D.”

Call #3: Jenny. Are we still on for dinner tomorrow night? That new Korean place looks good.

***

At the station on the way home a couple of schoolkids are having an animated conversation on the platform. Something about some sport thing on the weekend. They punctuate their sentences with mock-kickboxing moves. They’re too busy heckling each other and striking poses to notice the train coming.

Dickhead 1 throws a head-high kick. Dickhead 2 ducks and stumbles backwards. Cue slow-mo “oh shit” sequence. Without thinking, I raise my hand and point at the boy. Everyone is frozen, anticipating the inevitable.

I feel the warmth flow from my shoulder and out through my fingers towards the frightened kid. I clench the air like a fist around the collar of his jacket and hang on tight. He’s heavy, but I manage to change the angle of his fall.

He hits the platform inches from the train as it slows to a stop. Slow-mo clicks back to normal tempo. His mate rushes over to pick him up. No-one notices the guy with the purple hand pointing at the narrow escape. I stuff my tingling hand into my pocket and look away.

On the short walk home from the station I reach out with the power to knock the lids off bins and rustle leaves high up in curbside trees.

***

Coffee with Rashid next day. Dishing the dirt about YaddaYadda’s inventory. Resisting the urge to tell him about the train station. Not sure why, but it seems prudent to keep this whole freaky telekinetic bruise thing to myself, at least for the time being.

No major recalls for the last couple of years on the Yaddayadda front, says Rashid. But that’s not to say they’ve kept out of the news. About a year back some board members quit very publicly after a fire in a production plant. OH&S, unions, coverups, the full catastrophe.

Three dead, thirty-three injured. Full compensation packages for everyone after the dust from the court battle settled. Cause of fire never discovered. Coroner’s report said accidental conflagration caused by volatile chemicals. Which is to say sweet FA.

“Remember Tracy?” asks Rashid. “Tall Nigerian girl up in printing? Proofreader? Her twin sister’s a chemist. Guess where she used to work.”

Was she hurt in the fire? “I don’t know – I haven’t spoken to Tracy,” says Rashid. “Would Hanna want to know that for her project?”

I wouldn’t want to rule anything out at this stage. I’m not really sure what I’m looking for. I mean what Hannah’s looking for, of course.

“Of course,” Rashid, says, smiling his you’re-busted-but-I-won’t-push-it smile. I ignore it and change the subject.
We chat about the India trip. R recommends some places in the north, but we’re sticking to the south, basing ourselves in Bangalore mostly. It’s a work trip for Jenny. I’m just her corporate boyfriend plus-one. We’re staying pretty urban this time. Shopping malls, not temples.

“I’ll email you my Bollywood DVD want-list when we get back to work,” says Rashid as we head to the counter to pay.
I almost use the power right in front of R when I drop a couple coins out of my pocket & try to catch them before they hit the floor. Oops. I pull back in time and let them tinkle onto the floor, then bend down to pick them up old school.

Stars and birdies as I thwack foreheads with the dude behind us in the queue who’s bent down ditto for coin pickupage. I step back and rub my bonce while mr friendly picks up the coins and hands them to me. i mumble thanks and turn to pay.

***

Back at work I sit at the temp desk googling gossip sites for super-origin stories. Too keen to wait, too lazy to go to net cafe last night. I bookmark and print a bunch of stories about any telekinetics, magnetisers or gravity manipulators over the past fifty years.

My search turns up unfamiliar phrases: “chi-projection”, “spirit lifting”, “forcewall” and “M-energy”. Bookmark & print. Bookmark & print. In the copy room I flip through pics of fellow thing-floaterers, including one of a woman pointing at ten freaked out hovering elephants.

At home I read through the day’s research, uncorking and recorking the Talisker using the power. Delicate actions are getting easier to do.

Once you get past guys like Swami and Joyride, there doesn’t seem to be much telekinesis in the A-list. At least, not as a primary power. Proton has it, and so does Electron, and Empyrean used it once against The Lab Rats, but they don’t rely on it, or even use it very often.

Of course there’s The Poltergeist, but he’s a baddie. Still, it’s worth looking into. There’s not as much out there about baddies, though. I guess the baddies just have less fans to create fanpages for them.

I check my phone & realise I’m going to be late for dinner with Jenny.

Continued in Chapter 2.

One thought on “Chapter 1

  1. Pingback: Welcome. « Aramis Fox

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