Sunday, March 28, 2010

Pope woke the next morning with a raging woody for the first time in several decades. As he carried out his morning ablutions he realized that the adolescent hormones coursing through his new body were going to have some unknown but powerful influence on his reactions, possibly even his emotions. He determined he would need to take care they did not control his actions.

While he made his way down to the breakfast room, he looked around the two story penthouse. The fixtures, furnishings, and Central Park view all suggested that this family was very wealthy. After wandering for a moment he found Oran's mother at a table. A young blond woman was working in the kitchen visible through a pass-through window.

"Good morning," Mariela said as she came around the table to feel his forehead. Inwardly

Pope chuckled. He could recall his wife making the same gesture whenever one of their daughters had been ill or injured. Some sort of maternal instinct he'd always thought. "I'm feeling pretty good," he said aloud.

"Sit, please," Mariela gestured to a seat that looked out the window onto the rooftop patio. "Tetyana will have your breakfast ready in just a few minutes." She nodded to the young woman in the kitchen.

"Good to see you back home," Tetyana offered in accented English. Something about her voice and her smile cause another gallant response.

Pope cursed inwardly and quickly took his seat. The loose sweats he was wearing were not likely to hide the evidence of his reaction. God save me from puberty!

Looking for another topic to take his mind off his embarrassing condition he noticed there was no sign of the rest of the family. "Where are Eric and Kirstin?"

"Eric is at that Football camp in Florida," Oran's mother answered. "Kirstin decided that since you were alright she would join her friends in Stowe for the week. You know how she loves her skiing."

"So it is just you and me?" Pope queried. He had no idea how long he would be in this situation, but had determined to treat it as if it was real for as long as it lasted. He thought it might be easier to adjust to the new circumstances without the distractions of the two other teens.

"Well, Jock will likely be around at least some evenings," she said. "Though he has a trip in the middle of the week. And he'll be bringing Eric back from Tampa on Saturday or Sunday, in time for him to be ready for school on Wednesday."

"That sounds great. What does your week look like?" Pope had no recollection from Oran of her working, but he had some memories of her being active in charitable and civic activities.

"I have some meetings planned, but can easily clear my calendar if you want me to. Getting you healthy is my top priority, Baby." Her concern was obvious. Pope realized her calling him Baby was likely a sign of her dismay over his health. She thought she was going to lose her son.

Pope did not have the heart to tell her she had lost him. Unless the real Oran returned if and when Pope was evicted from the brain he was currently inhabiting, it was likely she would never see her baby again. Well that is just too depressing, he grumped mentally.

"I think I am just going to take it easy for a couple of days, then I might go out for a bit to stretch my legs," he said.

"That makes sense," she replied. "I don't want you going stir crazy and I don't want you to use this as an excuse to waste the whole week on your computer. I want you in bed at a reasonable hour and up before 9:00 every day. Ok?"

"Sounds good," he agreed. "But this morning I think I do need a little computer time."

"Fine. Just ... take it easy and let me know if you start having any problems."

"Will do." Pope got up and brought his dishes to the pass through. He had not really paid any attention to what he had eaten for breakfast, and there was nothing left on the plate to tell him what it had been. Nonetheless he made sure to compliment the attractive blond for her cooking and thank her for the meal. Her bright smile had him rushing back to his room. Stupid hormones...

Like many military officers, Pope had gained an interest in history after several years in the military. His eventual doctorate was in public administration but his dissertation had been on the history of the post-World War II and Post Iraq and Afghan War nation building efforts. It was this scholar in him that decided he needed to do a historical survey to find the differences between his home world and the fantastical one in which he found himself. He was particularly interested in finding the point of divergence, if there were any such event identifiable.

So he hit the net.

What he found astounded him, though it fit with Oran's memories as they were triggered. Here was a world that was apparently identical to his throughout most history, until the appearance of the first masked vigilantes in the early 1930's. The remarkable men and women fought criminals, spies, and occasionally each other in the years leading up to World War II. From what he could tell these mystery men (and women, though they were far less common) were normal humans with exceptional skills, training, and equipment. It was not until 1939 that the first document superhumans made their appearance. And they were on the wrong side of the war.

Pope was shocked to read reports of Axis UberMenchen appearing on frontlines in Poland, China, Finland, and the skies over London. They seemed to be used more for striking terror and making statements. These German, Russian, and Japanese metahumans were not powerful enough to actually turn the tide of a battle against tanks or artillery assets. But they were terrifyingly effective against infantry and civilian targets. Allied super soldiers started appearing in newsreels by the middle of 1940.

Eventually enough of these supers were in the field that the course of the war changed from what Pope could recall from his own history. The end result was the same, an allied victory in both Europe and the Pacific. But the war culminated a full year sooner. And before the end in 1944 atomic bombs and energy weapons of similar destructive power were used in both theaters. Pope was astonished that these atomic cannons were actually adapted from technology brought to Earth by visitors from at least two different alien races.

One of the Allies strongest supers was an alien warrior known as Starmaid. She brought with her a plasma beam weapon that the US eventually used to break a German siege of allied troops along the Westwall. Germany acquired a similar weapon from an alien race known as the ByTor, but did not have the opportunity to deploy it before it was destroyed in a raid lead by HeroJoe, an American super inventor.

Supers, death rays, and aliens. This is like a comic book, not a history book. Pope thought as he forced himself away from the computer. He walked out on to the patio and leaned against the chest high outer wall. He could see the city around him giving testimony to the new world he was in.

The mid-morning sun shone brightly as he looked out over the park, he noticed what appeared to be a gorilla with all white fur wearing some sort of armor rocket-skating around the lake. Alpha, Oran's memory supplied, one of the Liberty Legion. At first he'd only caught a glimpse in the distance, but as he tried to focus on the figure to get a better look his eyes zoomed in like a camera with a telephoto lens, offering him a clear image of something far too distant for him to normally see.

Startled, he lost focus and his sight encompassed the whole park again. What the hell? He had noticed his senses were unusually acute in the hospital, but that could have been the difference between his younger eyes and ears in comparison to his original war-torn equipment. But this was something different than that. This was something more.

Quickly Pope tried to focus on a car driving along the street thirty floors or more below. He could easily make out the number on the roof of the taxi and followed it until it turned off the street some twenty blocks away. He looked up and saw the floating city block he had noticed the day before. He was able to zoom in close enough to see through the windows on the tower facing him.

As he continued to try out this new power, he realized the zooming was not happening in his eyes. Instead it felt like he was somehow manipulating the light in front of his face. Not certain how he'd come to that conclusion, Pope was beginning to suspect there was more to Oran's mind than his unusually sharp memories.

Pope continue to explore his new abilities. He found that while his hearing was significantly sharper than it had been in his old body, he could not "zoom in" the same way he could with his vision. The same was true with his sense of smell. He found he could quickly discriminate between the scents of the inhabitants of the apartment and track Oren's mother and the au pair. He could not smell the people on the street below.

I wonder how far I can zoom my sight? he thought. High in the sky he saw the contrail of a jet. He was shocked when he was able to not only zoom his vision in enough to see into individual windows, but to follow the plane as it speed across the sky. He noticed the moon hanging pale near the horizon. He worked to extend his focus as far out as he could and found himself looking at the lunar surface as if he were standing on it. Sweeping his gaze towards the highlands above the Fra Mauro crater he was able to find the remnants of the Apollo 14 landing site.

Pope closed his eyes and collapsed onto a bench. That's flat out impossible. He thought. And more than enough experimentation for one day. I guess that weird vortex explosion was an emergency event. I'm a super.

Cool!

That evening Jock did make it home for dinner. The meal was a little uncomfortable for Pope. He was seated en familie with people that were effectively strangers. He found himself silently observing the two adults interact, as well as watching the attractive young woman serving the meal. As Tetyana dished out the steak, steamed vegetables, and light pasta Pope noticed she was very careful to avoid brushing against Oran's stepfather. I wonder what is going on there, he thought. By the end of the dinner he was fairly sure something was amiss.

"Oran, I wonder if I might have a word with you in my office after dinner," Jock said as the dessert was served. The older man's look and tone both suggested he had no doubts his desire would be fulfilled.

"What's this about?" Oran's mother asked.

"I haven't had the opportunity to speak with him since the accident," Jock smiled lovingly at his wife. "I know you have been seeing to his needs but thought there might be something he would be more comfortable talking with a man about."

Pope thought for a moment. Oran's memories showed that the boy had never really gotten along with his stepfather. But he decided not to let that influence his feelings too much. He was a different person to the missing teen and wanted to form his own opinions. "Ok. Not sure I have any particular gender-exclusive concerns, but we can talk."

Once the two were alone in Jock's study, Oren's step-father began his interrogation. He didn't bother with small talk. Instead he put his most important question out first. "What the hell happened in that lab?" he demanded.

Pope was more than a little taken aback at the man's vehemence. He decided to give him the same information he'd given to the doctors. "When we got into the lab, your guy turned on the power and the machine started to go crazy. All I remember after that was a bright light, then waking up in the hospital."

Pope decided to try to take control of the conversation before Jock asked his next question. "What was that machine? Mom said something about a Hypertap?"

"Nobody touch the machine?"

"Nobody even went near it. It was still covered by the canvas when it ... went off."

Pope thought for a minute. He could remember the vortex as it formed between the machine's pylons. He once again saw the energy bloom sweep through the room, wrecking the furniture and fixtures. He felt the flash burning through his brain as the wave swept over him. Then there was nothing but darkness and a blinding flash followed by the tendrils sweeping into the room destroying everything they touched. Then pain and blackness and nothing.

"Yarrow turned on the power, then there was a flash and that's all I can remember."

"Well whatever happened destroy the whole damn building." Jock almost screamed, leaning forward his red face jutting over his desk. "All that was left was a crater with you at the bottom. Nobody knows how you survived. I lost millions of dollars of research and equipment! 'I don't remember' just isn't good enough."

"I thought that building belonged to Mom, to PowerSource." Pope pointed out. He was not going to be intimidated by this poser,

"PowerSource is part of Coleman Electric. That means that it's mine. And it means that you cost me lots of money."

"Not to mention the lives lost," Pope reminded Jock. "But I still can't help you. Besides, didn't Mom say you knew that device was dangerous?"

Jock, his hands clenched tightly on top of the desk, stared at his stepson for several minutes. Finally, he growled "Get out."

Pope was reminded of several men he had known in Vietnam. Big men driven to the edge of anger and violence. In that long-ago war he knew what was driving those men. He wondered what was driving Jock. Deciding this was not the time to find out, Pope stood without saying another word and quietly left the office.

Once outside, he went to find Oran's mother. She was standing on the patio looking out over the lights of Central Park. She heard him and turned to watch his approach, a sad smile on her face.

"How did that go?" She asked.

"Not great," Pope replied. "But no blood spilled."

Mariela winced. "I wish you two got along better."

Shrugging, Pope said nothing. For several moments they quietly looked out over the dark greenery below. Eventually, he asked "What was that machine in the lab?"

"Your father called at the extra-dimensional power generator, or Hypertap." The wind pulled at her long dark locks. "It was supposed to draw unlimited power from some source outside our world. Power that could then be harnessed and shared freely. Or at low cost. And while it's certainly tapped into some sort of energy source, he could never stabilize the field to make it safe for long-term use. After your father died, no one else knew enough about the technology to try to continue the project. So, Dad had it mothballed."

She turned and put her arms around her son. "Jock knew it was dangerous. I've no idea why he let you in that lab." Pope felt her tears fall on his cheeks. "I could have lost you too, baby. I don't know if I could've survived that."

"It's all right Mom. I'm still here. I'm just fine. It's all going to be okay." Pope put his arms around her and held her tight.

That night Pope's dreams were vivid and hyperactive. They bounced from his early life to the memories locked in Oran's brain. Several times he woke only to slip back into disturb slumber.

Monday morning, he woke to find that Jock had already left on his business trip. Mariela had a committee meeting that she offered to cancel if Pope needed her.

"You should go. I think I'm just going to hang around the house again today. I might even take a nap." Just then Pope had a disturbing thought. "You said I'll be going back to school on Monday. I think I may need to the study up a bit to see if I missed anything while I was in the hospital."

"Probably a good idea. Kirsten brought home all your assignments. She even got the ones from the classes she's not in."

"I'll have to remember to thank her when she gets back."

"That would be nice. I wish the two of you got along better." Pope saw she was going to say something more but stopped herself.

"I get along better with her than I do with Eric. But I'll try to do better."

Oran's mother gave him a hug before she left. Pope spent the day much as he had suggested. He determined what classes Oran was taking and where they were in the curriculum. While much of the content was familiar to him, there were subjects he had never studied. And some of the familiar fields were taught very differently than he remembered. Then there was a fact that the history, technology, and current culture of the world were all different from the one he in which grew up. He realized with a groan that school would not be just a matter of regurgitating what he had learned before.

Pope found himself dozing several times during the day. He slipped into a disturbed dream state where his subconscious seem to be trying to integrate his own memories with those of his new body. This was not conducive to restful slumber.

After a quiet dinner where Oren's mother shared her opinions on the personalities and politics of the meeting she had attended, Pope excused himself and retreated once more into his bedroom. He attempted yet again to find peaceful rest. As he lay in bed his body seemed to seethe with a restless energy. Despite that, he was finally able to fall asleep.

His dreams were filled with memories of his experiences as a helicopter pilot. He relived many of his more intense aerial combat experiences. At one point, as in the dream he rolled to avoid a ground-based missile he found himself jarred awake as his body slammed into the ceiling of his bedroom.

When he opened his eyes, he found himself floating unsupported eight feet above his bed. What the hell!