Unity

by Carl Stubblefield

  “You are correct,” Nick said. “Your brain is failing to make necessary neurotransmitters and there is no biological reason for this to be happening. I have stimulated the appropriate receptors and signal cascades, and your body is not responding. You need to do something, and soon.”

  “Hey, there he is. How was the vacation, Nick?”

  “It was you who was ignoring me, so here we are.”

  “Sometimes you are a real pain in the ass…” Gus grumbled.

  “That is only because it is the quickest way to your brain,” Nick quipped. “I would suggest Telepathy, as it has exhibited the biggest reduction in symptoms.”

  “Here goes nothing. Sorry, BoJack.”

  Gus activated Telepathy.

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  No Mercy

  It was difficult to get anything at first, the experience a cross between balancing something slippery and fine-tuning a weak signal that jumped around a bit. First, he got feelings, which were all over the board. Anger, fear, adoration, worry, loss, pride, each emotion bursting into focus then warping into the next.

  What is he dreaming about?

  Gus felt like a ghost as a modest apartment came into view. From his point of view, he was hovering in front of a much younger BoJack, wearing plaid pajama bottoms and a T-shirt. He was kneeling in front of a sobbing young woman with auburn hair thrown up into a messy bun. Her face was in her hands and her hair had fallen forward, masking her appearance. He intuitively recognized her as BoJack’s wife.

  “It’s always something. If we have any luck, it’s bad luck,” she spat amid the sobs. “First the miscarriage, now the lawsuit. I can’t win; it’s like I’m cursed.”

  BoJack reached forward and held her forearms as she trembled and cried.

  “We’ll make it through this, babe, we’ve been through worse,” he said softly.

  “I’m just so tired. All I’ve done is try to help people, and they turn around and do this! Why is the insurance not covering this?”

  “I don’t know, everything happened when the policies were renewing. They said something about the overlap of when everything occurred. We’ll fight it, don’t worry—”

  “I’m already frayed to the breaking point; this couldn’t have happened at a worse time. It should be illegal what they’re doing. They have to cover us! We can’t handle the cost of a lawsuit all on our own. And that lawyer that said it would be almost a quarter of a million to defend against a case like this, even though I did nothing wrong!”

  “I know it’s infuriating, but there are worse things that could have happened. We have each other, and we’re healthy. Things may be tough, but it’s nothing we can’t overcome.” BoJack looked up at her imploringly but the woman’s sobs turned to shouts. She appeared to not even have heard any of his attempts to console her.

  “And telling us that we should just settle? And let them win?! It all seems so wrong. The system is broken if it lets people take advantage of others like that. Where is our protection? Am I just guilty until proven innocent? She’s lying! We should get a Magistrate, then counter-sue for libel or perjury or whatever.”

  “It’s not a criminal trial, so there won’t be a Magistrate to read and evaluate everyone’s thoughts. Even if it was, this lady might be convinced you were in the wrong and we would be in the same position. They can only discern intention and emotion—”

  “Then what should we do?” she wailed up at the ceiling, a grimace upon her face as if in pain.

  “I don’t know, but we didn’t work this hard to lose everything. I’ll fight, if you want us to fight. We can settle if you just want to be done with it all and move on. I’m totally on your side whatever you choose,” he soothed.

  “I can’t deal with this right now,” she choked out, wrenching her arms out of his caress, and ran to the bedroom, slamming the door. He sat there kneeling, looking over his shoulder at the closed door, chewing the inside of his cheek as he thought. She needed space when she was overwhelmed. He wanted to go to her, but knew now was not the time. A tear slid down his face now that she was gone, he had to stay strong for the both of them. He had to—

  Gus was pulled backward out of the memory. He instantly felt guilty and self-conscious for viewing such a personal, private moment as the sensation reversed and he came out of vision and his own sight began to resolve. He didn’t know how Magistrates read thoughts for a living, especially with all the dark things they must see and deal with reading the minds of criminals. He could feel the emotions and thoughts as if they were his own. Gus had a new respect for BoJack. How did this guy stay so positive? He never would have guessed he had been through—

  “Gus… Gus!”

  When he had fully dropped out of the Telepathy transition, Gus found himself facing an angry BoJack. He was so close he could see the whiskers on his face and the heat of his breath.

  “Whoa, give me some space. You’re in my bubble—” Gus tried to back away.

  “I’m in your bubble?! That’s rich, cuz. You were delving me right now, weren’t you?”

  “Delving you?” Gus asked, cocking his head.

  “Reading my thoughts. And probably have been for a while. I thought it was weird when my migraines were coming back, but now I think it was you poking around in there.” BoJack poked Gus in the chest accusingly, twisting his finger like a drill. “Am I wrong?”

  Gus’ sheepish look told BoJack what he already expected.

  “Unbelievable. I open up a little bit and this is what I get. What made you think that was an okay thing to do?”

  “Sorry, I was just trying to level my Telepathy skill, I’m almost to level twenty…” Gus’ explanation died on his lips as he saw BoJack’s expression turn even angrier.

  “I trusted you, mate. I would have told you anything you wanted to know. And this is how you do me? More is expected of us since we have these abilities. If we aren’t going to police ourselves, who are we expecting to do it? Just because a super can do something doesn’t mean that they should.”

  “Whoa, whoa. Why are you so mad? I didn’t see the harm. In fact, I think I know you a lot better now.”

  “No harm? You’ve just basically committed the mental equivalent of rape and it’s no big deal to you. Just trying to get some XP, that’s all, BoJack. Is that where your head’s at?” He sneered in disgust and looked away from Gus.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it would affect you so negatively, really.”

  BoJack looked back at Gus as if he were a grotesque, yet fascinating bug.

  “I think I really misjudged you. I know you’re new and all, but this goes beyond. Way beyond. It should be a common sense type of thing. Does anyone need to specifically tell you that you shouldn’t use elevated strength to destroy property, or get in a fight with a reg and potentially maim them or kill them? Does it not seem wrong to go rifling through someone’s personal journal or pictures? In what universe is it okay to do that in their minds? Private things are private for a reason.”

  “But Magisters do it as a job,” the words spilled out unbidden and Gus cringed as BoJack’s tone became even icier.

  “Magisters are appointed and they see criminal cases. The only time they delve people who haven’t committed a crime is when two parties are trying to reach an agreement through mediation and compromise. Two willing and aware parties. It disturbs me that you are even trying to justify this in your mind at all.”

  BoJack turned and grabbed Gus’ suit by the collar, pulling him close.

  “There are too many takers in this world, Gus. And they have no business being supers as well. And I don’t give a damn who anyone is, I will fight that type of selfishness down to my dying breath.” He let go of Gus with a slight shove, as if the contact made him dirty.

  “You think I’m overreacting, don’t you?” He eyed Gus up and down.

  Gus’ jaw opened and closed as he tried to formulate something to say.

  “I won’t do it again, seriously. I didn’t m
ean to pry—”

  “Damn straight, you won’t do it again. Let’s just keep our distance for a while. We can still work together, but some redrawing of boundaries is definitely in order. Just… later.” BoJack looked flustered and just put up his palms, shaking his head before turning to leave. He stood there a second and without turning around growled one last thing to Gus. “I told you about a lot of things in confidence. Things I expect you to keep to yourself. There could be a lot of blow-back on me if it got out that I’ve told you what I have. And I would be very put out if that happened. Do you understand me?”

  “Yeah,” Gus said, his throat suddenly feeling dry and parched.

  There was a grunt of acknowledgement and BoJack stormed away.

  Gus looked around the common room and was relieved that, for the time being, no one was there to witness the spectacle.

  So stupid! You knew how guilty that made you feel when you did it, that should have told you it was wrong! Gus mentally berated himself.

  The decision was cringe-worthy when he looked at it in retrospect. He battled with himself to justify how he needed to level to be a part of the team, and get to a point where he could actually contribute and not be a liability, but they all sounded hollow, even to himself. The shame made him want to avoid BoJack, but he knew he couldn’t do that. He was never good at apologizing and had lost friendships before by avoiding confrontation, just wanting to escape how uncomfortable the conversation would be.

  Was he a “taker” like BoJack had said? The words stung, but they hurt all the more because as Gus reviewed his decisions, he found most were driven by selfish motives. All with the guise of getting to the place where he someday could help others.

  But the headaches! Gus noted that his symptoms had disappeared. Blessed relief, but was it worth it? He wasn’t sure if he had learned or gained whatever “key” the Oracle implied Gus needed to get from BoJack, but a fundamental difference between them stood out in stark contrast. BoJack put others’ welfare before his own, and his focus was a mutual win for all parties involved.

  And what about Prime? What was he supposed to learn from her? They both seemed like deep rivers that showed none of the turbulence underneath a calm exterior. Gus felt his own life was reckless flailing on an inner tube in the rapids, just trying to stay afloat. And now he probably just blew a chance to gain those skills he would have learned in the Academy. A willing mentor whom he just pissed off, probably for good.

  Gus felt sick to his stomach. Yet another good thing I’ve screwed up…

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Home Sweet Home

  Seneschal dropped Gus off at a transit station near his home before the rest of the Crew made their way back to Faction headquarters. He was familiar with the neighborhood, but everything seemed… smaller, somehow. As if he had lived here as a child and then grew up and the dimensions were not as he remembered them.

  He began walking to his apartment, becoming aware of the looks people were giving him. Usually he was in what he called “stealth mode” before he had abilities. No one noticed him, or ever paid him any mind in the past. Granted, his suit was torn a bit and a little ragged and smudged. The huge black polearm he was carrying was less than subtle as well.

  Getting some new clothes wouldn’t be a bad idea.

  He stopped at a nearby bank kiosk and pressed his finger on the screen and waited as his eye was scanned.

  Biometrics evaluated… confirmed!

  Welcome, Gus Vannett.

  How may I help you today?

  Gus checked his balance and was surprised to see the amount of money in his account. Without any expenses, he had accrued nine paychecks directly into his account as if he were still working on Graviton’s station. The process was most likely automated and with no one to change the system, it would continue in perpetuity. Whatever the reason, Gus was flush for the first time in a while. He withdrew some money and tried on some clothes in a nearby shop.

  It took a while to find something in his size. He couldn’t get a thigh down the pants leg of a pair of jeans whose size was loose on him before everything had happened. After a couple tries, he found something that fit his new frame. He picked up a couple sweatpants and shirts, shoes and socks. Even his shoe size had increased from a 10.5 to a 12.

  So weird!

  He hadn’t thought about his physical changes in any real way, and was lost in thought as he walked back to his apartment, not realizing that he didn’t have a key until he was entering the parking lot. He stopped in to see the landlord.

  At first, she was upset that he had disappeared without a trace, and that she should have sold his things. Her attitude was mollified as Gus paid his rent to current and an extra $50 on top of back rent to get another key. Pretty steep, considering she had a whole stack of them already made in that drawer, but Gus could care less.

  He opened the door to his old apartment. A hot, stale smell like a thrift store hit him as he stepped inside. A layer of dust coated everything. He had lost everything he had owned of major value on the station, and the small room that greeted him was more spartan than he remembered. He looked at one wall and saw the empty wall mount where he had hung his favorite guitar. He walked around the tiny room; it seemed like forever ago that he had lived here.

  He hit the air conditioning as he entered the small kitchen, which rattled noisily to life. He then pulled apart the yellowing curtains to open some windows in an attempt to freshen up things. The A/C always took a while to ramp up and get cold. He knew there was nothing perishable in the fridge, but he cracked it open anyways. Some condiments, a jar of pickles in the far back and a single soda. He grabbed it and opened it as he toured his old home, feeling like a stranger.

  If he knocked all of the walls out, the whole thing was probably around the same size as the master suite back at the manor. He walked into his bedroom, seeing the small twin bed there. His old computer was set up in the corner on a card table with a folding chair. How long did I live like this?

  He flicked on the computer, thinking maybe he could check his emails. The sheer amount of junk there discouraged him from really searching. He was about to turn it off when Nick spoke up.

  “I can sort that for you,” Nick grumbled. “What do you want?”

  “Just if there’s anything from my friends; Dave, Chuck, or Jim.”

  “Here you go.” Two messages were highlighted. Both from Dave.

  “You can delete the rest,” Gus said as he opened the first one.

  Gus,

  How’s life on the station? Can you even get emails up there? Well, life sucks for the rest of the gang. That other job we got didn’t pan out so we’re back looking for gainful employment. It’s been a dry spell, work-wise.

  Jim’s been in an accident and he’s still in the hospital. He’s in intensive care and they won’t let anyone in to see him that’s not family. Chuck has just disappeared, emails get returned and his phone comes back disconnected. It’s lonely out here bud. I hope you’re doing well. Anyways, if you get this drop me a line sometime.

  Your bro,

  Dave

  Looking at the date he saw that was before he had called Dave from the island. Gus saw that the next email was fairly recent.

  Gus,

  Hey, where are you man? Well, I’ve got some bad news. My sentencing was today and I’m going away. It may not be that bad. Here’s to hoping, right? Anyways, I wanted to catch you before I had to go, but no such luck. I don’t know when I’ll be back, they haven’t really given me a lot of details about the process. My counsel said to plan on a year, maybe more, so I’m letting my place go. I hope to see you on the other side of this. Look me up in a year or so. I’ll keep this email around and check it when I get back. So, yeah. I’m glad you’re okay, man. And cool thing with the powers. I wish we could have met up, but it is what it is. Good luck with everything and don’t forget the little people!

  Later brotha-man,

  Dave

  Gus flu
shed a bit. He was somewhere in Hinansho when Dave had sent this, doing his own thing. A stab of disappointment made his heart ache that he hadn’t been there for one of his few friends. Par for the course, Gus.

  With nothing else to do, he decided to look up Jim and Chuck to see if he could touch base with either of them. Doing a quick search, he quickly found that Dave was right. Chuck wasn’t even listed. He looked up the address of the hospital and jotted it down. No time like the present.

  A twenty-minute ride later, he stood in front of the hospital where Jim was supposed to be. A feeling of revulsion hit his stomach as he looked at the hospital.

  Too soon.

  He braced himself and walked inside.

  Calm down, Gus, not every hospital has nefarious things going on behind the scenes.

  He had to wait in a long line at the harried intake desk. They were obviously understaffed and overworked. Tensions were high from both sides. One who had to deal with brazen rudeness and the others who had to waste valuable time in an inefficient system. Gus observed everything from his new perspective.

  How would anyone fix this? This was the kind of problem that the everyman has to deal with on a daily basis. While supers go about their business, he couldn’t recall anything done along these lines. He tried to think of possibilities, but came up with very few constructive ideas. Even with BoJack’s level of healing ability, one person would barely put a dent in helping the sheer amount of people here.

  He wondered if hospitals were like this in districts controlled by the Green or Orange Factions. Were less resources allocated here because of Purple’s credo of Might Makes Right? Were the chronically sick viewed as non-contributors to society, so they merited less attention? He honestly didn’t know, and felt a little shame at being so oblivious to something that was clearly a big problem.

  “May I help you?”

  Gus realized the receptionist was talking to him.

  “Oh, sorry. Yes. I have a good friend that was checked in here. I wanted to see if I could possibly visit him? I just got back from an extended tour of duty.” He had planned what he would say, and thought phrasing it as if he were a veteran would get him some more leniency to visit.