Guardian's Rise

by Matthew Renard

  Yes, I was Jason Anson.

  No, I didn’t want a lawyer present.

  Yes, I was the Jason Anson from The Anson Foundation, and you’re welcome that I paid for your post-war therapy (actually, that part was quite nice).

  No, I couldn’t imagine anyone who would want to harm me.

  Yes, I thought it was a terrible freak accident.

  Yes, I was definitely going to stay in Capehill for the foreseeable future. It’s not like I could stand to leave (I think they thought I couldn’t bear to leave, rather than my actual meaning of how I couldn’t literally stand up).

  Yes, they could come back any time to ask me any questions.

  The line of questioning disturbed me, and I told Sammy as much.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Why else? They clearly think I had something to do with what happened.’

  ‘Nah, they have to ask those questions. I’m sure Michael got them, too.’

  ‘Oh, crap! Michael! Is he okay?’

  ‘Yeah, I guess. I haven’t seen him. Want me to find out where he is?’

  I mulled it over. ‘Nah. He’ll be able to find me if and when he can. But find out if he’s okay, yeah?’

  ‘I’m nodding.’

  This was something Sammy had started to do that morning. Rather than just nod, he would tell me he was nodding. The same with shaking his head, shrugging, eating my food... anything I couldn’t necessarily see, he would tell me about it. It was, frankly, the single most annoying thing he had ever done - and one time, I had found his half-uneaten cereal bowl in my sock drawer.

  ‘So,’ he continued. ‘Has she come back?’

  I didn’t need to ask who “she” was. ‘No. I guess she’s giving me that space.’

  ‘Do you want her to come back?’

  That was the big question, wasn’t it? On one hand, I knew I still loved her. The dreams hadn’t stopped in all that time since she’d left me, and indeed, hadn’t changed now; although now she appeared in the business suit I had seen her in before the explosion, and the dreams ended in a fireball, with me shouting for her, trapped beneath a large metal beam that grew slowly red with the heat. I was still damaged by what she had done to me, and a large part of me recognised that it wasn’t healthy for me to have not managed to get over her. I should just leave her in the past, behind me, and try to get on with my new life.

  My new life; as a blind, one armed man with no legs.

  ‘Yeah. Yeah, I want her to come back.’

  The next day, Emily made an appearance. there’s not much to report on about our conversation, as it was stilted and felt forced; at least, to me it did. Each “yes”, or “no” seemed to be more probing and tentatively feeling our way, rather than the easy rhythm that we instantly fell into when we had first met - finishing each other’s sentences, knowing instinctively what the other was thinking or about to say. Originally, it had felt like we were two halves of the same whole. With me in that hospital bed, it seemed more as if we had been nothing more than polite acquaintances. I think we both wanted it to work, but at the same time didn’t want to seem over-eager or to rush anything.

  ‘So, is... what were their names?’ Long pause. ‘The Windsor’s! Yeah. Are Mr and Mrs Windsor still living next door to you?’

  ‘Mr Windsor is, yeah.’ I nodded. ‘Mrs Windsor died.’

  ‘Oh, no! How?’

  ‘The war.’

  Silence. Just... silence. Mention of the war could kill conversation as easily as the actual war killed people. And our relationship.

  ‘Yeah.’ She said, after a while. ‘That happened a lot.’

  It was the fifth day after that when Michael came to see me. ‘Sorry, Jason, but I was pretty shook up, myself.’

  ‘It’s okay, Michael. Were you badly injured?’

  ‘Broken arm, minor burns. Nothing as bad as you.’

  ‘How many people...?’ I trailed off, not wanting to finish the thought.

  ‘Not many.’ Michael’s voice seemed warm and sincere enough, but also felt like he was holding something back. ‘But look, rather than think about the people we can’t help, what about the people we can?’

  ‘Yeah, of course. Anyone who needs treatment, the Foundation should pay for.’

  ‘We already are.’ He answered. ‘But I mean, specifically, you.’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘Well, we deal with prosthesis and artificial skin, so we can have you back on your feet in a few months.’

  If I could have, I would have stared.

  ‘And, with the new innovations, you’ll have almost full tactile sense in your hand and legs.’

  ‘Really?’ Sammy asked, sounding not-at-all surprised. It was like he was trying to be part of an infomercial.

  ‘That’s right, Sammy.’ Michael continued. ‘People who’ve gone through the procedure report that it feels almost like touching something whilst wearing thin gloves, or a very thin layer of clothing. Not perfect touch, but not far off, and we’re working on that all the time.

  ‘Your eyes, however, are a different matter.’

  ‘Yes, it would be.’ Doctor McMannus’ voice took over. ‘We can certainly give you artificial eyes, and you would be able to see just as well as you did before. Even better, in fact. But...’

  ‘But?’

  ‘There would be pain, Mr Anson.’ He sighed, and I could hear the regret in his voice. ‘It’s not an easy task, fitting ocular prosthesis. They’re not, as you would say, “plug and play”. Unlike the limb prosthesis, which you could be unconscious for, you would have to be awake for the eyes to be properly fitted, and alert so that also means a minimum of painkillers. Most find it excruciating agony.’

  ‘Oh. Well.’ I tried to be flippant about it. ‘It’s not like I’ve gone through that at all recently.’

  ‘Mr Anson...’

  ‘I’ll be fine, Doc.’ I promised. ‘What would we do first?’

  ‘That would entirely be up to you, but I recommend the eyes first. That way you can adjust to them before you think about learning to walk again or use your artificial arm. You would need to see where you are walking and pointing when you adjust to your new limbs, so we should do that one first.’

  I nodded firmly. ‘Then that’s the one we’ll do first.’

  ‘And when would you like to start?’

  ‘As soon as possible.’

  ‘It may be a week to get everything together. Despite your acclaim, Mr Anson, there will still be a waiting list.’

  ‘That’ll be fine. Just... soon, okay? I can’t wait.’ I smiled in what I thought was a confident manner. ‘After all, it can’t hurt that much, right?’

  Chapter Six

  Actually...

  It really hurt.

  Chapter Seven

  Nice To See You

  I don’t think I can properly do justice to the pain I felt with my ocular implants. However, I’ll certainly give it a go.

  I want you to imagine taking a metal skewer, like the type you use for barbecues or shish kebabs and taking it to a crematorium. You lay the skewer down in a pitch black cubby and close the pitch black door, so all you can see through the tiny, mildly soot-stained porthole is a faint outline of what may have been a sliver of silver, if there were there any light within the pitch black cubby. Then turn off the lights to the room you’re in and turn on the heat.

  That outline, the sliver potential, grows lighter over time. Not all at once, but slowly, softly, it begins to glow: first a dull brown that barely stands out and then a range of colours from rufus to red to orange to deep and then pale yellow, and then white. Sparks begin to emanate from the shape, now so brightly hot and beaming that you can scarcely stand to glimpse at it. You open the door, reach in with safety gloves, and pull out the hottest piece of metal you could ever imagine in your life.

  Now slowly, carefully, with the care of an artist and the precision of a surgeon, insert the sharp, white hot tip of the skewer directly into your eyeball, through the socket, and into the
back of your skull. As your screams intermingle and crescendo in counterpoint to the soft, relentless hissing of the flesh and muscle beneath your scalp, imagine you’re unable to stop it. You can’t turn your head to pull away, or jerk back, and the worst part is the knowledge that you, yourself, wanted this. You smiled and joked and said you would be able to cope.

  The procedure, so I’m told, lasted seven hours. It didn’t feel that way to me. I think it was Einstein who was once quoted as saying “Spend an hour with a pretty girl and it seems like a minute. Put your hand on a hot stove for a minute and it seems like an hour”. Now, I don’t know if Einstein said that or not, but I can attest that when the hot stove in question is physically burrowing through the burnt out remains of your eye sockets, it certainly feels a hell of a lot longer. I could never get used to the pain, it never died down or dulled, because each time I thought it was easing up, another nerve was set on fire and it began all over again. For seven hours, I underwent a form of torture that I had volunteered for, and with every hiss of scalding flesh and nerve, every jolt of pain I wanted to beg and scream and plead with them to stop.

  But I didn’t.

  Part of me wonders, to this day, what would have happened if I had. They probably would have continued regardless, but I wonder if I could have coped living in the black for the rest of my life. Things would have been easier, in some ways.

  Certainly, fewer people would have died.

  ‘Can you hear me, Mr Anson?’

  I nodded. I still couldn’t see, and it was (or so I’m told) the day after the procedure. The pain had receded to a dull, throbbing ache, accompanied by an itch around the outsides of my eye sockets. The gauze wrapped tight around the upper portion of my face, not to mention what felt like cotton wool, would have made it impossible to scratch, so I ignored it. I had been through worse than a minor itch.

  ‘We’re going to remove the bandage now, Mr Anson.’ Doctor McMannus said softly.

  ‘Jason.’

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘My name is Jason. Please don’t call me Mr Anson.’

  ‘Okay, Jason. And you can call me Doctor McMannus.’

  I smiled despite myself, as I felt the wrapping slowly be peeled away from my face. The soft and too-warm pressure of the cotton pads lessened and then vanished as they were lifted from my face.

  ‘Can I open my eyes?’

  ‘If you’d like.’ Doctor McMannus said genially. I did so, to see...

  Nothing.

  ‘It didn’t work.’ I frowned, laying back further into the bed. I had subjected myself to the worst physical pain of my life, for what? Nothing.

  ‘Jason, you can’t see because I haven’t activated your ocular implants yet.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘He said,’ another voice with a mock-patient tone chipped in, ‘that he hasn’t turned your eyes on yet. Idiot.’

  ‘Hey, Sammy.’ I smiled. ‘Glad you could join us. Although I’m not sure if the first face I want to see when these new eyes start working is your ugly mug.’

  ‘I’m here, too.’ A softer voice joined.

  ‘Emily?’ I didn’t think I could have smiled any wider.

  ‘Yes, Jay.’ She squeezed my shoulder.

  ‘Well, then!’ Doctor McMannus interrupted us. ‘I’ve set the room lights down low, to avoid any un-necessary shocks to your system.’

  Un-necessary?

  I heard some soft taps on glass, accompanied by some beeps. I assumed he was on some sort of tablet. ‘Are you ready, Jason?’

  I took a deep breath. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Good. I must warn you that you may find this next part a little... uncomfortable.’

  ‘Wha-’

  My vision exploded. Synapses flared to life, ripping open pathways to my brain. Uncomfortable wasn’t really the word I would have used, but in a heartbeat it, and the previous pain, were gone, and once again, I could see!

  Sort of.

  ‘Well?’ Sammy was looming over me, peering down. I felt like I could have cried, I was so overjoyed to see him. ‘Am I as handsome as ever?’

  ‘I... I can only see in black and white.’ I looked around the room, trying to not freak out. ‘Is that normal?’

  My eyes settled on a tall, stately looking man with a shock of what looked like grey hair. He peered over at me, scratching his head. ‘That’s... a little unusual. Let’s see what we can do, here.’ I watched as his fingers danced over the tablet. ‘Ah! I see. Nothing to worry about.’ He tapped another sequence, and my vision bled with colour. I grinned and nodded. ‘Much better, Doc, thanks, I...’ I stopped, staring intently at Sammy.

  ‘What?’ He looked concerned.

  ‘Sammy, I just...’ I reached out with my right arm and pointed at him. ‘You’re... you’re black!’

  ‘Oh, my God!’ He grabbed his face in both hands in shock. ‘I never knew!’

  As we laughed, a soft sigh from my side caught my attention. ‘Honestly. Boys.’

  I turned to look at Emily, who was smiling fondly at me, despite her exasperation. ‘You get given a beautiful miracle and the first thing you do is make jokes with your friend, rather than gaze lovingly at your-’ she froze, beautiful brown eyes widening. Something told me she had caught herself out as much as she had me. Lovingly at my... what?

  ‘Anyway.’ Sammy interrupted the moment, earning a glare from me. ‘Doctor McMannus and I were talking whilst you were out of it earlier, and your eyes can do some really cool stuff!’

  ‘Like what? See things?’ Emily’s caustic barbs had always been entertaining, when they weren’t aimed at me. She and Sammy had often verbally sparred in the past, and they were pretty evenly matched.

  ‘Like see more things now than ever before, wench!’

  ‘Hey!’ I interjected. ‘Don’t call my-’ I paused, glancing at Emily, who looked as dazed as she had a minute earlier when she had made a similar faux pas. ‘... Emily a wench.’

  ‘True, I must be the wench, because,’ he got into Emily’s face, leaning over me closer and closer with each word, ‘you. Got. Served.’ He stood straight slowly, the smug look on his face almost joyfully insufferable. For a moment I marvelled at how happy I could be to see Sammy looking so pleased with himself. For a moment.

  ‘Anyway...’ I broke in. ‘Like what, Sammy? What can my eyes do now that they couldn’t before?’

  ‘How about a little night vision?’ He smirked at me.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Oh, yes.’ Doctor McMannus picked up the thread. ‘Night-vision, infra-red, and you will also be able to see in the 0.01 to 10 nanometre wavelength.’

  ‘Huh?’

  It was Emily who translated for me, although she sounded a little perturbed. ‘You have X-Ray vision.’

  I stared at them all. In normal vision.

  ‘Are you doing it?’ Sammy sounded breathless.

  ‘No!’ I squinted at him, then widened my eyes. I repeated this a few times, until Emily shook her head.

  ‘What are you doing, Idiot Boy?’

  ‘I’m trying to... how do I...?’ I gave up, and lay back in bed, surprisingly exhausted. Doctor McMannus smiled lightly, examined his tablet, and tapped a button.

  Three skeletons grinned at me. Unlike what I had seen before, or even expected, these skeletons weren’t just bone. They were outlined in thin layers of reddish meat and tendons. They looked as if three people had been flayed alive and neatly trimmed back, so their bones were perfectly on show.

  I screamed.

  ‘What?’ The taller one, on the right, shouted at me in Sammy’s voice.

  ‘I... holy crap, Sammy. Is that you?’

  ‘Are you going to do that “you’re black” thing again? Because it was funny the first time, but I gotta tell you, man, that loses all humour on the re-telling.’

  ‘No, you’re... white.’ I looked him up and down. ‘Very... very white.’

  ‘Well, damn. There goes my dancing ability.’ The skeleton shrugged. ‘So, it’s working?’
/>
  ‘Yeah.’ I glanced over at the skeleton on my left and saw a side to Emily I never thought I would have before. I turned my attention to the skeleton by the foot of the bed. He looked different to the other two, and it took me a moment to work out exactly how. Whilst Sammy and Emily had nothing in their eye sockets, Doctor McMannus’ skeleton had eyes. I must have been staring, because he slowly nodded at me, and then a bony finger tapped on a slab of metal, and my vision snapped back to normal.

  ‘That was...’

  ‘Experimental.’ Doctor McMannus looked himself again, but this time I was studying his face more intently and could just about make out a small webbing of minute scars around his eyes. ‘What we gave Mr Anson was based on a technology that implements particle tracking, to create a high resolution, high contrast, colour three-dimensional X-Ray.’

  ‘Ohh.’ I said, glancing at Sammy, who looked back. We both nodded at the same time. ‘Of course! Why didn’t you say?’

  Emily looked at us both, annoyed. ‘What it means is that you have top of the range vision.’ She looked back to Doctor McMannus. ‘I thought these were still in the testing phase.’

  I stared at her in confusion. ‘How do you...?’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry.’ She stood a little straighter in her dark business suit. ‘Emily Roarke, Senior Vice President for Augmented Relations, SabrexTech.’ She put her hand out to my remaining one, which I gingerly took. ‘I’m pretty aware of Augment technology, as well as the full range of capabilities.’

  ‘Uhh...’

  She looked at me sternly. ‘I had a life after we parted, Jay. I have a life now.’ She made a show of looking at her watch. ‘A life which I must be getting back to.’ She looked to Doctor McMannus. ‘If you’ll excuse me, Doctor?’ She turned and grabbed a bag, before moving to the doorway. Turning again to face me, her expression softened. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, Jay?’

  I nodded. As she left, Sammy looked at me questioningly.

  ‘What was that all about?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ I paused, wondering if I should add something else. ‘Also...’ I started. ‘I don’t know why she’s got a gun.’