Class Fives: Origins

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Class Fives: Origins Page 23

by Jon H. Thompson


  “Good luck,” he said quietly.

  She shot him a momentary glance, then reached to poke the needle at the bulging vein in the crook of his arm.

  For a long moment nothing happened. Then she seemed to shift her shoulders, as if to provide herself with a bit more leverage, and finally raised her elbow and pushed, hard, on the needle.

  “Ow!” she suddenly hissed, withdrawing her hand and holding up a finger where a small dot of blood was forming.

  “What is it?” Patel asked, curious.

  “The needle broke,” she replied, uncertainty in her tone.

  “Try another, please, nurse,” Patel responded, flipping open the folder and reaching for a pen in his coat pocket.

  John leaned forward, his own curiosity now aroused.

  The nurse turned to a low table nearby, deposited the broken needle, and quickly fixed another on the end of the syringe, then leaned in to try again.

  “Damnit!” she whispered a few moments later, turning to drop the second broken needle on the table.

  “Doctor,” she said, with professional calm, “I can’t seem to get it to penetrate.”

  “Oh?” Patel said, interested, and stepped over to lean down and scan the arm. “Try one more time, if you please.”

  The nurse sighed, affixed another needle and made one more effort, this time half rising from the stool to put extra weight into the attempt, but again the needle snapped off. She huffed a deep sigh, dropped back onto the stool and turned to look up at the Doctor, her face a mask of exasperation and concern.

  “And there’s no elasticity in the skin, either,” she said. “It’s like squeezing a statue.”

  “Really?” Patel mused, stepping over to reach out and lay his fingertips on the arm, giving it a probing squeeze.

  “My goodness,” he whispered, moving his hand to another spot, and then another.

  “What do you know about that?” he mused quietly.

  Suddenly he straightened, becoming business like.

  “All right. We’ll come back to that later. Now, let’s go to the stress lab, shall we?”

  Five minutes later they were down the hall in another room, John leaning against a counter next to Dan, White again stationed in the corner and Roger standing in front of a treadmill at which he stared silently.

  “Now, Mr. Malloy,” Doctor Patel said, smoothly, “If you would mount the treadmill, we’ll have a look at your motor skills.”

  Roger stared at the treadmill a moment longer, then turned to stare at the Doctor.

  “I don’t think you want me to do this,” he said, reasonably.

  “Oh, don’t worry,” Patel said with cheery encouragement, “It’s perfectly safe. Just a brisk walk, nothing more. You’ll be fine.”

  Roger shook his head.

  “That’s not what I mean. I meant I might break it.”

  Patel chuckled indulgently, raising an arm as if inviting Roger to mount the device.

  “Oh, it’s quite sturdy. Now, if you please?”

  Roger regarded him a moment, then turned to where Dan stood observing.

  “Doctor,” Dan said quietly, “Have you got something hard and heavy you don’t think you’ll miss much if it gets broken?”

  Patel turned to frown at him, puzzled.

  “I’m not sure I understand,” he said.

  “A solid paperweight of some kind, maybe? Just something impossible to break.”

  Patel seemed about to protest, then hesitated, turned to regard Roger once more, now with a more thoughtful gaze, then turned to the nurse.

  “Would you please go fetch the bathroom key, nurse?”

  She moved swiftly out the door, as Patel turned to sweep his gaze over Roger.

  “So I take it,” he said, “That your capability includes some sort of increase in muscle strength?”

  “You could say that,” Roger replied blandly.

  In a few moments the nurse returned holding a key between her fingers. Dangling from its other end was a clear, heavy plastic cube, clearly intended to prevent someone slipping the key into their pocket and forgetting about it.

  She extended it to Patel, who plucked it from her fingers, deftly twisted the clasp and removed the key. With a pleasant smile, he extended the cube to Roger.

  “Here you are,” he said, “Now, what do you intend to do with it?”

  Roger took it, glanced over at Dan and smiled, almost mischievously.

  He brought up his other hand, taking the cube between his fingers, and gave it an effortless twist.

  The snap was like a gunshot as the bulky, solid plastic cube broke into two large pieces.

  Patel gasped.

  Roger dropped one half into his palm and flexed his fingers a single time. Another bang echoed in the room as jagged bits of plastic shot away from his fingers.

  Dropping the crumbled pieces, he brushed his palm against his pant leg and dropped the other half into his opposite palm.

  Bringing his hands together once more, he covered the remaining piece in his hands and pushed. After a moment he began to grind his hands together in slow, almost lazy motions.

  It only took a few seconds until Roger opened his hands to reveal a clear plastic, awkwardly shaped ball.

  He extended it and Patel had to yank himself back from a reverie to take it and stare down at it.

  “Not even warm,” he muttered in wonder.

  “Holy shit,” John whispered. “That’s unbelievable.”

  “Tell me about it,” Dan said quietly.

  Patel seemed to suddenly gather himself, and glanced up to look around him.

  “I think we should do some pictures now,” he said, a bit stunned.

  For the next six hours, John and Roger underwent a battery of sophisticated tests involving bulky pieces of equipment intended to probe the deepest depths of the human body.

  As Roger was being loaded into the MRI machine, another man entered the control room almost apologetically.

  “Excuse me,” he said quietly, causing Dan and White to turn to him.

  “I’m Dr. Marvin Henry. I’m supposed to – “

  White straightened a bit.

  “Yes, Dr. Henry. I’m White. Mr. Crawford said you would be observing.”

  Marvin gave a relieved grin and nodded, extending his hand.

  “Oh, good. I was afraid I’d never find you guys.”

  Dan saw that White seemed not to understand what was intended by Marvin’s gesture, and reached to take the offered hand, giving it a firm shake.

  “Hi. I’m Dan Sinski. LAPD. I’m just here as a friend of one of the guys. Well, both of them, actually.”

  Marvin brightened.

  “Really? That’s great. I’d like to talk to you. Get some background. Frankly, if what I was told on the plane is true… I don’t know, it’s a little hard to process.”

  Dan smiled.

  “I know what you mean.”

  10

  Origins

  One by one, John and Roger were cycled through the various procedures. X-rays, Cat Scans, MRI’s. Every possible means of probing the depths of the human body available were directed at them.

  Then they had been ushered back to the waiting room, where they sat in exhausted silence for almost an hour before the door opened once more to reveal Dr. Henry.

  “Can you guys come with me? We’re going to have a meeting, go over what we think we’ve worked out so far.”

  All three men rose and followed him.

  At the far end of the long hallway was a conference room into which Marvin led them, and indicated the empty seats at the far end. The other chairs were occupied by Dr. Patel and the team that had contributed in some way to the numerous tests.

  “Thank you for being so patient, gentlemen,” Dr. Patel said, leaning to fold his hands together atop the table as the others settled into their seats.

  “I thought it best that we share what we think we understand so far with you, since I don’t believe it would serve any pu
rpose to withhold it from you. In fact, I think it likely that we will never actually know what makes you gentlemen as you are. And that alone is quite a stunning concept.

  “However,” he continued, “I believe Dr. Henry has a hypothesis you should hear. I cannot vouch for its correctness, I am not a physicist, but as it is the only hypothesis we have, I think you deserve to hear it.”

  Dan shot a quick glance at Roger, who returned it sharply, then gave a faint shrug. John sat, half slouched in the chair, his full attention fixed on the Doctor.

  “Dr. Henry,” Patel said, “If you will.”

  Marvin nodded and straightened in his seat.

  “Thank you. First, I want to tell you guys that I am completely blown away. If what I think this is turns out to be true, I can’t even tell you the impact it will have on… everything. The way we understand biology, physics. Just everything.”

  His voice was rising slightly, charging with excitement, but he seemed to sense that he was letting himself run away on a cascade of incredible thoughts, and pulled himself back, taking a breath to calm himself before continuing.

  “Ok,” he said, steadily, “Let me show you something. Now, Mr. Kleinschmidt…”

  John’s head tipped very slightly, his attention focusing.

  “According to Dr. Patel and the others, you are perfectly healthy. Nothing at all wrong with you. You’re in good shape.”

  John relaxed slightly, a smile curving the corner of his mouth.

  Marvin picked up a piece of paper from before him and held it up. It contained a silhouette of a human form, within which could be seen a swirl of lines and blobs of various sizes all jumbled together.

  “This,” Marvin said, “Is a printout of an image from your MRI. Basically, it blasts magnetic waves through you which react differently to the density of the various organs of your body. As you can see, you’ve got a heart, lungs, stomach, all the regular stuff.”

  He extended the page toward John, who leaned forward to take it and stare down at it.

  “So this is me, huh?” he said quietly.

  “That’s you,” Marvin said. “Perfectly normal, ordinary human being. No extra glands, no unexpected organs, nothing to explain how it is you can do what you do.”

  He glanced down at the desk and scooped up a second sheet, holding it up.

  “And this…” he said, displaying the page, “Is you, Mr. Malloy.”

  He paused to allow all eyes to take in what was imprinted on the paper.

  Like the other, it contained a silhouette of a human form, but this one was completely and utterly black within.

  “As you can see, it’s quite different from Mr. Kleinschmidt’s.”

  Dan leaned forward, perplexed.

  “Why is it black like that?”

  Marvin favored him with a smile.

  “Exactly. Why is it black? Well, it’s black because the magnetic waves didn’t penetrate Mr. Malloy’s tissues. The got bounced back.”

  “Bounced back?” Dan asked, his confusion billowing.

  “Exactly,” Marvin responded. “For some reason, the atoms in Mr. Malloy’s body completely blocked the magnetic field.”

  “So what does that mean?” Roger asked quietly.

  “It means,” Marvin replied, placing the page back on the table before him and leaning in, “That for some reason, your body is impenetrable to magnetic fields. And radiation, all the X-rays, came out exactly like that. So did the Cat Scan. In fact, none of the tests was able to take any readings from you at all.”

  “Why not?” Dan interrupted.

  Marvin nodded, as if anticipating the question.

  “That’s what I’m asking myself. And I think I have an idea. I don’t know if we’ll ever be able to prove it, but it’s a good working hypothesis.”

  “And that is…?” Dan encouraged.

  Marvin smiled pleasantly, turning to regard Roger.

  “The same reason nothing seems able to hurt you. And why you seem to have unlimited strength.”

  He paused, raised his hands as if considering constructing his next thoughts in the very air before himself, directing his attention to Roger.

  “I think,” he said carefully, “That the atoms of your body have somehow found a way to vastly increase the strong nuclear force. I don’t know how it’s possible without sucking you into some kind of mini-black hole, but it would explain why not even subatomic particles seen able to penetrate you.”

  Dan leaned back, shaking his head.

  “Ok, you lost me. Strong nuclear force, what’s that?”

  Marvin hesitated, then nodded.

  “Ok, the universe is controlled by four basic forces. Gravity, electromagnetism, the strong nuclear force, and the weak nuclear force. Now, gravity you know about, or at least you have a good idea of its effects. And you know electro-magnetism. You use electricity, that’s the electromagnetic force. You’ve seen magnets, that’s the other expression of that force. It can be one or the other. Electro-magnetism is what animates the universe. Makes it move, generate heat, do work, all that.”

  He paused and made a vague gesture as if to focus everyone’s attention on his next words.

  “The strong nuclear force is what holds atoms together. The subatomic particles that make up an atom, the protons, neutrons and electrons, are too small and moving too fast for gravity to hold them together. They need this special force to stick them into an atom. That’s the strong nuclear force.

  “It also generates a kind of field that surrounds the atom and protects it, repels every other atom that comes close to it. Atoms never actually touch one another. If they did, the electrons circling them would slam into one another and blow them both apart. Instead they encounter that field and get repelled by it. Basically, when you touch something, you’re not actually touching the atoms that thing is composed of. The field surrounding your atoms are touching the field surrounding those other atoms and keeping them apart a tiny bit.”

  He paused thoughtfully for a moment, then continued.

  “Now the strong nuclear force is usually just strong enough to hold an atom together, but not strong enough to prevent it being blown apart if another atom slams into it fast enough to penetrate that field. But in your case, it appears that, somehow, your atoms are capable of generating a momentary increase in the strong nuclear force in every individual atom of your body, enough to be able to repel other atoms and subatomic particles, regardless of how fast they’re moving. They can never achieve enough energy to penetrate your atoms. They just bounce off. Now, the exact mechanism they’re using, I haven’t a clue yet. It should be impossible. But there you sit, so it has to be possible somehow.

  “Anyway, it would explain why nothing can penetrate you. The atoms of whatever is impacting you are being repelled on an atomic level. And happening on that level, it makes that… ability virtually infinite. See, a bullet being shot at you, or a building being dropped on your head, or even falling out of a tall building and smacking into the sidewalk, all those things are made up of atoms. Normally they’d contain enough energy when they hit you, or they’d be so much more dense than your tissues, that all that energy would have to be absorbed by your flesh. And the flesh isn’t built to withstand too much energetic impact. It tends to fly apart. But in your case, whenever anything, any atoms, slam into you, regardless of how many, how big the object or how fast it’s moving, your atoms get this boost in the strong nuclear force, enough to repel those other atoms.”

  “So nothing can ever hurt me?” Roger asked.

  Marvin shook his head.

  “I would think nothing could. Same goes for energy. Energy is just matter moving very, very fast. But again, your atoms just bounce it back.”

  He paused to let the others consider this strange thought, before continuing.

  “And that would also explain why you seem to be limitlessly strong. Because when your atoms come into contact with, or try to influence, other atoms, your atoms win. Punch a hole in a cube of s
olid steel? Fine, the atoms of the steel will just be repelled by the atoms of your fist, and you’ll make a big hole in it.”

  “What about lifting a truck?” Dan asked.

  Marvin shrugged.

  “Same thing. The weight of the truck is just atoms being influenced by gravity. You go to pick it up, the atoms of your whole body react, more strong nuclear force all through you. The atoms of your feet and legs react to resist the force of the weight of the truck, all the way up your body. In any contest between your atoms and the atoms of anything else in the universe, your atoms win.”

  He leaned back, spreading his hands.

  “That’s my thinking,” he said simply.

  Dan turned slowly to regard Roger, who seemed lost in thought.

  John was looking back and forth between them, his brows furrowed almost suspiciously. He turned to where Marvin sat regarding them.

  “What about me?” he said. “My time jump thing. What causes that?”

  Marvin smiled warmly, leaning forward once more, ready to confront the new thought.

  “Yes,” he said, his excitement bubbling up again, “Temporal displacement. Actually, I think that has to do with the other force, the weak nuclear force.”

  “And what’s that?” John asked.

  “That’s the force that regulates radioactive decay.”

  John blinked, his expression suddenly alarmed.

  “What, I’m radioactive?”

  Marvin’s smile widened and he shook his head.

  “No, not at all. Well, no more than anybody else. No, the weak nuclear force is what overcomes the strong nuclear force when the number of protons, neutrons and electrons in an atom become unbalanced. When you wind up with an extra proton or neutron, the weak nuclear force allows that bit to fly off, and the nucleus becomes stable again.”

  He folded his fingers together before himself, thoughtfully.

  “In your case, what I think is happening is that when you make one of your jumps, the atoms of your body get a boost of the weak nuclear force and, for a split second, convert to pure energy. Basically, for a tiny fraction of a second, you become pure energy. And that energy accelerates to the speed of light, and, if you jump backwards, faster than the speed of light.”

 

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