Zero Matter 1 4

Table of Contents

Chapter 1 Dr. Marcus was exhausted, worn down to the point of idiocy which for him still meant the genius realm, just not the very top of it. His eyes were rimmed with red, glasses discarded since he didn’t have the stamina to focus his sight any longer, tie pulled down loose with the top button of his shirt undone. The ends of his sleeves were rolled up twice with a fine layer of dirty sweat ringing the tips and his remaining hair stuck out in all directions from the sides of his head. I could see all this, see the drained expression on his face in the control room. He had been working for thirty-six hours straight, fueled by coffee and cigarettes. “Do it again! And this time do it right!” Dr. Marcus shouted into his microphone. I knew I should probably give him a break but since he wasn’t giving me one, I went with what I was feeling. “Forget it! I can’t do it and even if I could, I’m done!” “You and I are not leaving until you do it once more,” he said as he pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. He did not shout this time but the message was just as strong. “One last time then done,” I said. He put his hands on the table in front of him and leaned forward to the safety glass. “Do it right and then we’ll be done.” I glowered but nodded my head. “Fine.” “Good, on my count. Three, two, one…” He pressed the release button. I was immediately aware of the matter entering my space. My entire body tingled as every nerve not only felt but smelled, saw, tasted and heard the unbound atoms. “What are they?” Dr. Marcus asked as he looked at his computer monitor.

I listed off the easiest in order. “Oxygen, carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, calcium, phosphorus, potassium, sodium…” “Enough of that,” he said. “I know you know those. What are the others?” I closed my eyes and focused, strained the atomic mixture through the sieve of my senses to find the unusual particles. “Neon, argon, uranium,” I said and looked up smugly. “One more.” “Damn,” I said to myself. Even as tired as he was, Dr. Magnus was still pushing me. I concentrated on the particle stream again, pretended to breathe it in and swish it around my mouth. It took a second but I found it. “Manganese.” “Good, now build.” That was the part I was good at. In less than five minutes, I had assembled an almost normal physical body and looked triumphantly at Dr. Marcus. “I hate it when you do that,” he said. “Do what?” “Make your eyes red. It’s unnerving.” He had noticed quickly. Thirty-six hours with no sleep and he still notices red irises from twenty yards away. “I know.” I laughed. He didn’t. “Now shed,” he said.

This was the hard part. I groaned as I started dissolving my bones and tissues. My new blood swirled and thumped painfully in my head, forcing my eyes to close and my jaw to clench until my teeth half melted and half shattered. I could feel flesh sloughing off my limps and heard it splatter when it hit the floor. My heart liquefied and dribbled to the pool of destroyed organs collecting in my lower abdomen. The flesh holding the puddle inside my body thinned and tore, releasing the protein rich, acid soaked mess onto the floor with a loud splash. More and more of my new body joined it as I continued to reverse the creation process. I didn’t have the control to return the atoms to gaseous state. Liquid and near liquid was the best I could do and even then, I couldn’t shed the entire body. I pushed and concentrated as hard as I could, reached the same point I had the previous fifty times and stopped. “I can’t do it,” I garbled. Crap, I forgot to start with the vocal chords. They were half functioning and without them gone, I sounded like a stroke victim. “What was that?” Dr. Marcus asked impassively, as though a half melted and falling apart body was nothing out of the ordinary. I tried to shake my head. The remaining muscle fibers in my neck burst but my head did not move. “I’m done!” I tried to shout but all that came out was a ghoulish moan. “I’m sorry. I can’t understand what you’re saying.” If you don’t know what I’m saying then I’m okay to say this, I thought. “Your mother’s the world’s oldest working stripper!” “Come again?” The real pain was beginning. In my natural state, pain was virtually unknown and it took time for my brain to process the signals from each physical form I constructed. Once it started

though, it held nothing back. I started thrashing in my restraints, the pain forcing more strength out of the remaining muscles than they should have. Cells strained, tissues burst and nerves exploded as the body, as if sentient to its own miserable condition, tried to finish the job I had started. Now it didn’t matter that my vocal chords were half gone. The screams sounded the same as they would if I had a complete voice box. Dr. Marcus watched me flail; flicking his eyes from the monitoring devices to me, making certain no permanent damage was being done to my super-structure. “Almost there,” he said. I could barely discern the words as my ear canals collapsed. They fought to function, preventing my natural ears from hearing clearly. It was like the sounds had to travel through wet sand to get to me. The pain subsided gradually as the brain and nervous system, always the last things to go, started to die. I summoned strength and forced the process to speed up. My efforts fell short again. The biological mush in my ears dribbled out, allowing me to hear clearly again. “Is that it? Is that the best you can do?” Dr. Marcus asked. His voice was calm but the words were cutting. “Why don’t you come in here and try it?” I said. My voice was clear. The pain was gone. I raised my head, as far as the restraint would allow to see how much of the shell was left. I smiled. “I’d say it’s a new record. Maybe fifteen percent remaining.” Dr. Marcus crushed my enthusiasm.

“Twenty-seven.” “What? No way.” He hit a command key and projected an enlarged display on the window. “Twenty-six point two rounds down to twenty-six,” I said. “Yes, but it’s not twenty-six. Anything over point zero to infinity rounds up in my book.” “Still a new record anyway. Beat my old mark by two and a half points.” “Yes, congratulations. Would you like me to finish the process for you now?” “Please,” I said. Dr. Marcus put in ear-plugs and then covered them with a pair of comically large industrial ear muffs. “Ready?” he shouted into the microphone. I nodded. I didn’t need the ear protection once the bulk of the body was dead. I would register the magnitude of the sound but would not be damaged by it. He went through the process of commands to charge the electro-magnets. I listened to the shrill whine as electric current flowed through the copper coils. Eventually, the sound moved beyond my cognitive levels. I counted slowly and as I said, “Ten,” the magnets discharged a focused ray of energy that would make a sonic boom sound like a baby’s sneeze. The clumps of flesh, segments of bone, and puddles of liquefied body parts all vanished under the tailored onslaught of energy. Molecular bonds were destroyed and the freed atoms returned to the same chaotic state they had been in when released into the test chamber. Pumps fired to life and pulled the loose matter from the room, restoring the perfect vacuum. Dr. Marcus removed his ear muffs and plugs.

“Zero-matter superstructure clear of all impurities,” he said after checking the computer display. “Put your suit on quickly. We are late.” “We’re done for the day then?” I asked warily as the engineered restraints loosened and released me from the table. “Consider it a reward for a new personal record,” Dr. Marcus said and then added in a voice as close to sentimental as he could manage, “and a birthday present.” “Aw, shucks, you remembered. Are we going to a surprise party?” “As a matter of fact, yes.” “Any girls coming?” I pulled my shield suit up and slid my arms into the sleeves. Dr. Marcus waited to answer until I had pulled the hood tight, affixed the face mask and sealed the suit. “Dr. Swanson will be there.” “Any girls younger than fifty gonna be there?” He smiled his ‘no’ smile before leaving the control room. Outside the airlock, he handed me a small package. “What is it?” “Another present.” “I guessed that,” I said with a smile. I opened the plain box and pulled out a silver cylinder the size of my thumb. Dr. Marcus must have seen the confused look on my face. “It’s your identification file. You’ll need it now that you’re eighteen.” “Thanks,” I muttered with apparent disappointment. “You don’t like it?”

I answered too fast, speaking without thinking. “It’s okay but it’s not like I need it in here.” “Who said it was for use here?” Dr. Marcus raised his eyebrows and looked over the top of his glasses at me. It took a second but I caught up. “When? When are we going?” I asked, grabbed him in a bear hug and lifted him from the ground. “Tomorrow,” he said weakly and I released my crushing grip. He straightened his glasses when I put him down. “For how long?” “As long as you like. Your latest tests showed perfect bonding. You can hold your body together almost indefinitely. We are all very proud of you.” I was speechless. Tomorrow I would be getting out of the laboratory for the first time. I stopped walking and leaned my shoulder into the wall for support. “Are you alright?” “I’m fine, I just can’t believe it. Going out, without the suit. It’s just…Thank you.” “You don’t need to thank me. You’ve done the work. You’re the one that has made this possible.” “Well, thank you anyway. I know I wouldn’t have gotten permission if you hadn’t pushed for it.” We were walking again and almost at the door to the conference room. “It wasn’t just me. We’ve all been working on this for months and used every favor we had to do it. You owe everyone a great deal of gratitude.”

“I’d give everyone of you guys a kiss on the lips if I could.” “Save it for Dr. Swanson. I think she has a crush on you.” Dr. Marcus smiled as he whispered the last part and opened the door to a packed room. # Ten minutes into the party, the room hushed. It was not a lively crowd to begin with; all scientists and doctors more than three times my age but the room became a tomb when the doors opened again. Two soldiers stepped in, looking as foreign and out of place in the scientific conference room as my friends would look on a battle field. The older one was tall, almost six and a half feet, and thin as decrepit scarecrow. His hair was jet back except for two gray patches at his temples that matched his pale eyes. A long and narrow nose hooked slightly over a thin lipped, puckered mouth. His chin was gaunt and pointed so finely, he could have popped one of the helium balloons with a quick turn of his head. Even if his shoulders weren’t adorned with two general’s stars, I would’ve guessed he was the man in charge by the way his eyes swept over the room, settled on me and stared without blinking. “Dr. Marcus!” the other soldier said gruffly. He was short, probably a full foot less than the general but three times as thick. His chest, shoulders and arms strained the fabric of his uniform and his Cro-Magnon like head sat on top of a stump pretending to be a neck. Dark deep set eyes glinted angrily under thick blond eyebrows as he looked to Dr. Marcus. “What can I do for you, Sergeant Tanner, General Brayton?” Dr. Marcus said evenly. He continued eating his piece of cake with his small plastic fork and took a sip of punch from his paper cup. Anyone that didn’t know him well would have thought he was calm as could be but I could see the veins in his bald scalp swell. He was not happy. “Time table’s been changed,” Sergeant Tanner said. “We need to take him now.”

“I believe we should move this conversation into my office,” Dr. Marcus said as he put his plastic plate on the table and wiped his hands with a blue and red balloon covered napkin. “This is not a conversation, Doctor,” Sergeant Tanner said. General Brayton continued to stare at me. The intensity of his look and the faded color of his eyes made the hair stand on the back of my neck. “Fine but I don’t believe this is the proper setting,” Dr. Marcus said as the rest of my friends tightened defensively around me. “What’s going on?” I asked. “It’s time to go,” General Brayton answered, speaking for the first time. Sergeant Tanner stepped around the general and moved toward me. The defensive wall of pale and diminutive scientists parted under his icy glare, except for Dr. Swanson. Just a hair over five feet tall, maybe one hundred and ten pounds, she held her ground directly in front of me without any fear. “You are not taking him. You have no right!” she said harshly, like a mother hen protecting her chick. “I’m sorry, Dr. Swanson, but that’s not you decision,” Sergeant Tanner said but there was no apology in his voice. He pushed her aside like she was nothing more than a shirt stuffed with straw. She tumbled into several chairs. I barely caught her before she hit the floor. “What are you doing?” I shouted. I set her down gently and rose into the soldier’s face. I had him by at least six inches in reach and doubted he knew I could punch through a two inch thick steel plate. He did not back away, just smirked at me as I coiled back my arm and got ready to tap him just hard enough to

break his nose. As I swung, he ducked and hit a five button sequence on the chest panel of my suit. The thick and normally flexible fabric went rigid and locked my limbs in place. General Brayton was still staring at me as he ordered, “All of you, leave the room and prepare to abandon this station.” Everyone looked to Dr. Marcus. He gave a slight nod and the room slowly emptied. I was cursing up a storm as I fought against my suit, wanting more than anything to finish the punch I had started and do more than break the soldier’s nose. Dr. Swanson stopped in front of me and wrapped her arms around my waist. “We all love you. Never forget that,” she whispered. General Brayton coughed impatiently and his toady grabbed Dr. Swanson’s shoulder. She slapped his hand away and turned to face him. “If you ever touch me again…” “Tabitha, please leave,” Dr. Marcus said, cutting her off and then softened, “Everything will be fine.” He tried to look hopeful. She sighed, hung her head and stared at her shoes as she left. When the door closed, General Brayton spoke again. “Sergeant Tanner, prepare him for transport.” “What are you doing? What’s going on?” I said while Tanner hit another series of commands on my suit. The stiff material changed shape, moving from my striking position to locking my legs straight and my arms crossed over my chest until I looked like a mummy in a space suit. I lost control over my balance and fell to the floor hard. “Dr. Marcus!” I shouted, more like a whiny kid and less like an angry man than I wanted.

The fall had not hurt but I was scared and confused by what was happening. I started to fight against the suit again, thrashing around inside. “He deserves to know why you are doing this,” Dr. Marcus said. “We don’t have time to explain this now. You can tell him on the way,” said General Brayton. “I can’t if I don’t know.” “Really, you don’t know? Can’t guess? I thought you were supposed to be a genius,” General Brayton sneered. Dr. Marcus’ face turned ashen. “When?” “About twenty minutes ago. Completely destroyed the creation lab. They knew right where it was. We figure this place is next on their list.” General Brayton stepped back, pushing the door open with his shoulder and waved a hand. Four soldiers entered the room with a coffin shaped box. “Why are you doing this? Dr. Marcus? What’s happening? Where are they taking me?” I shouted. Dr. Marcus turned to face me and I could tell he was ready to answer but he didn’t get the chance before General Brayton barked another order. “Tanner, shut him up!” “No,” Dr. Marcus objected firmly and then addressed me. “Adam, I need you to calm down and…” “Not gonna happen until someone tells me what the hell is going on!” I shouted.

General Brayton nodded to Tanner who waved over the soldiers with the black body box. I screamed at them every profanity I knew in as many grotesque combinations I could think of. They picked me up, dropped me into the box like a sack of meat and closed the lid. After I stopped screaming, I endured every bump and jolt of the move in complete silence and darkness. It felt like they were wheeling me on a dolly through the halls of the lab. They stopped and started again regularly several times, obviously going through the secured doors to get out of the station. I counted the stops and at number twenty-three, whispered to myself. “Happy birthday. You’re out of the lab.”

Chapter 2 I was sitting, my back to the guard room windows watching TV when I heard the airlock pumps kick on. Somebody was coming in to check on me. I wasn’t going to make it easy on them. Being treated like a prisoner and handled with disdain was more than enough to make me less than cooperative. “Adam, we’ve got to get you out of here.” I jerked around at the sound of Dr. Marcus’ voice, looked to the door and despite wanting to hate him for being absent the past four weeks, hoped he was there. He wasn’t. “Up here,” he said and I looked to the observation windows twenty feet overhead.

He peered down at me from the place usually occupied by a soldier. He looked more tired and haggard than the last time I had seen him. I smiled, cheered by the familiar face but quickly wiped the grin from my face. “What do you want?” I asked as angrily as I could. “Go to the airlock and put on your suit. There are several things in there you need.” “Why should I?” I demanded. “Why should I do anything you tell me too? I’ve been locked up like a terrorist for almost a month. Nobody’s told me why and now you show up and tell me…” His angry shout cut my pouting rant short. “Damn it, Adam! Just do it! They are coming! There isn’t much time!” I looked at him again, studying him closely and realized the wrinkles around the corners of his mouth were deeper, his sun-light deprived skin even paler and what I had assumed was exhaustion before was actually a mixture of desperation and fear in his eyes. I suppressed the urge to refuse his orders until he told me who they were and what was happening. I had been asking the same questions for as long as I’d been in my new prison with no answers but now the little voice in my head that I usually ignored was telling me loudly that this was not the time to press my luck. “Fine, fine. I’m on it,” I said and starting moving. “Hurry, Adam!” I opened the airlock and grabbed my suit. As I stepped into the legs and slid my arms into the sleeves, I studied the cart dominating the space and the two objects on it. One was familiar, a black-steel coffin, and the other was something new – two scuba type tanks welded

together with straps, buckles, and hoses dangling from them. A small command console was mounted to the top of the tanks with an armored cable hanging loosely to the side. “Is your suit on?” Dr. Marcus asked, his voice panicked and edgy. “Almost,” I said before putting on the mask and sealing the system. “Now?” “Yes, yes, it’s on.” “Good, now pull the cart into your room…” “I think you mean my cell,” I snapped but still obeyed. “Put on the matter tanks,” he said once I was in view. He jerked his head to the side and looked over his left shoulder in terror. I snatched up the tanks, slid my arms through the thickest straps and snapped together the multiple buckles. “Good, good. Connect the hoses to your shoulders and attach the cable to your chest pad.” I snapped and twisted the wrist thick hoses into the corresponding receptacles built into the shield suit. It took several tries to get the small terminal end of the armored computer cable into the proper slot on the chest panel that I had always assumed was just to monitor the integrity of the suit until Tanner had used it to put me out of commission. “Got it. Now what?” I asked. Dr. Marcus jumped at the sound of my voice. “Open the body box.” “I’m not getting in there,” I said, my cooperation limit stopping short of being locked in claustrophobic darkness. The ride in had been bad enough. I wasn’t going out the same way.

“It’s not for you,” Dr. Marcus said, grabbing the microphone and leaning forward. He placed a hand on the glass. “Adam, please, just trust me. I will explain everything once you are safe. I swear!” I grunted and bent over the coffin like box and undid the thick latches holding the lid closed. “What in the hell?” I shouted and looked to Dr. Marcus enraged and dumbfounded. His expression sank from anxious to despairing. “I’m sorry.” “Sorry? What’s that supposed to mean?” I shouted as I recoiled from the box and body inside. It was me, at least a version of me from probably six years earlier. Looking closer though, I could see differences and realized I had assumed the worse. This was not a copy of me, but definitely a relative, probably a brother I had never known. He was a foot shorter, his hair was longer, no perpetually stubby whiskers on his chin. His skin glowed softly, like mine but muted like a glow-in-the-dark toy that had been in darkness too long. The eyes were closed and lips slightly parted as if it was about to take a breath but the chest and diaphragm weren’t moving. He was obviously not alive but perfectly preserved like death had come only moments earlier. “You need to put the body on your bed or in your chair,” Dr. Marcus said. I looked back to him, my jaw clenched and eyes fighting hard against a storm of angry tears. “No!” “Adam, do it now!” Dr. Marcus ordered. “There is not time…”

“NO!” I shouted. “Not until you tell me who this is?!” Dr. Marcus opened his mouth to speak but whatever words he was about to say were interrupted by an explosion that sounded like a combination of a thousand cannons being fired and a million trees being ripped from the ground. The walls shook and floor trembled. Dr. Marcus had to steady himself with both hands and I was thrown backwards into my bed. “They’re here!” Dr. Marcus moaned. “Adam, please! Listen to me! Put the body on your bed and then come with me! They’re here to kill you!” I stood up and shook my head to clear it. I could hear the dim sound of more explosions and the tapping noise of distant gunfire. I lurched towards the body box and choking back bile grabbed the dead body under the arms. It was light, he was so light. I put him on the bed as gently as I could, confused and bewildered beyond all measure. “That’s fine, now get out of there,” Dr. Marcus said. I walked backwards to the airlock, my eyes focused only on the dead boy-version of me. I bumped into the wall, bit my tongue at the same time I heard the clang of the matter tanks against the wall. “Hurry!” I tore my eyes from the body and stepped into the airlock. The door slid closed. Thirty seconds later, I was in the control room with Dr. Marcus. The sounds of fighting were growing louder. “Where’s the guard?” I asked, seeing the soldier’s girly magazine discarded on the floor. “Got called up to fight. Finally gave me the chance to get in here,” Dr. Marcus said without looking away from the computer screen. It started to flash red. He placed his palm on a scanner and spoke slowly. “Keith Marcus, authorization code alpha-alpha-tango-three-five.”

The screen changed to green with thick black text. “Destruct Sequence Initiated.” Green and blue fire blossomed from the ceiling and floor of my holding cell, quickly spreading and devouring the small pieces of furniture in the room. The flames licked the flesh of my dead twin hesitantly before surging over the body like water over a dam. “Adam!” Dr. Marcus snapped, pulling me back to the present danger. He had moved to the far side of the control room and was waiting in an open door. “We have to go now!” I ran to him, dimly aware of the tank on my back, the cracking sounds of the control room windows surrendering to the fire and the muffled explosions beyond. He led the way to a military green jeep in the white domed tunnel. I numbly climbed into the seat next to him. The sounds of fire and battle faded quickly as we sped away. “Who was he?” Dr. Marcus didn’t answer. I looked at him, stared intensely at his face until he was forced to acknowledge me. He turned his head like his neck was made of rusted, unyielding metal. His eyes locked on mine and pleaded with me to be understanding but he said nothing. “Who was he?” I asked again and added meanly, “Or maybe the better question is what the hell am I?” “I didn’t want to do that to you but I had no choice,” Dr. Marcus answered and paused to hear the echoes of distant explosions chasing down the tunnel. “We had to leave something behind, something they would believe was you.” “Who are you talking about? Who’s attacking us? Who’s after me?”

I screamed the questions, shaking with rage at being kept in the dark for so long. I accepted it from the soldiers, dumb beasts that only followed orders but could not endure it from Dr. Marcus. He looked back to me. “They call themselves the Guardians of the Source, religious fanatics from another dimension,” he blurted before hanging a sharp left and almost tossing me out the side of the jeep. The new tunnel was darker and dirtier than the one we left. Lights alternated between completely dead and flickering sparks of waning life. I imagined the air smelled foul and heavy with decay and moisture. “Another dimension? What are you talking about?” “I can explain it all, Adam, I swear but I can’t do the situation justice right now. We’re almost there.” Dr. Marcus took his foot off the accelerator and the jeep coasted to a stop in a dark spot between functioning lights. “I need to go ahead, make sure the exit is clear. Stay here until I return.” “No, wait,” I managed before he jumped from the jeep with a pistol in his hand and ran around the corner. I waited for what felt like an eternity, straining to hear footsteps or see any sign of his return in the catacomb like tunnel. There was a steady hum of electricity and a regular dripping noise but nothing else for a long time. The near silence was shattered by a gunshot followed immediately by an explosion. “Dr. Marcus!” I shouted and ran around the corner.

Chunks of concrete fell from the ceiling and walls. The air filled with dust so thick it blocked most of the light from the few surviving fixtures. I stumbled around, trying to move forward but handicapped by the debris on the floor and the lack of light. “Dr. Marcus!” “Adam…here…quickly.” I followed the sound of his weak voice and found him buried under a pile of broken cement. His legs were hidden by the crushing mound. I grabbed the top piece, as big as my entire body, and heaved it off the pile. I grabbed several more before hearing him. “No, no time,” he said through labored breaths. He coughed and crimson spittle dribbled from his mouth. I knelt on the floor next to him. His face was covered in a mixture of chalky dust and dark blood. His glasses, one lens shattered, hung crooked on his nose. He reached for me and grabbed my hand. “Take this. I changed it so they won’t be able to find you,” he said and pulled his hands away. I looked down to see my birthday present, the silver ID cylinder in the palm of my glove. “What happened?” “They were waiting,” he said. “Two of them. Had to shoot…One exploded.” He smiled weakly and pointed to a body several yards away. The effort induced more coughing and bubbling blood. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe evenly. “I’ve got to get you out of here. I can get you to a hospital,” I said. “No, you can’t. We’re in the mountains. The nearest hospital’s a hundred miles away.” The feeling of despair and uselessness was overwhelming.

“What am I supposed to do?” “Run,” he said and pointed past the pile of broken concrete to a star filled sky. “Run east. As far as you can and open the matter tanks…Green button starts the process…Build a body. They can’t find you.” “But I can’t take off the suit out there,” I said, “What about the radiation?” He coughed hard, a wet breaking noise with every rasp. His eyes were filled with sadness and apology. “You’re not…zero-matter...not radioactive…,” he said and started hacking again. “All the answers…the truth…on your ID…” Blood was pouring from his mouth now. I reached out, grabbed his hands in both of mine while he fought to regain control. “Suit…hides you…from…them…,” he grunted. His eyes scanned my face urgently to make sure I understood. I nodded. “Okay, okay. Safe in the suit, safe with a regular body. Get as far away as I can.” “Good…boy,” he whispered, closing his eyes and breathing out. “Always…the…best boy…deserve a good life.” He gagged, choking on fluids in his throat and drowning inside his own lungs. His eyes darted from side to side, passing over my face like he couldn’t see me or anything else. “Adam!...Jen!…Jeni!…” “What is it? Who’s Jen? Do you mean Jennifer? Who is that?” His eyes focused on me for a split second and then slipped off center. “Mother…my…mother’s…”

“Your mother? Is your mother Jen? Do I need to find her?” Blood bubbled on his lips as air rasped out of his broken lungs. I waited for him to breathe in again. I couldn’t stop my tears when I knew it wasn’t going to happen. I forced myself to let go of his hands and stand. Dr. Marcus wouldn’t be giving me any more answers to the thundering questions in my head. It was time to go. If they knew to put soldiers at this exit, they probably already knew about the explosion and would send more troops any minute. The dark sky pulled me forward and on my way out, I looked at the body of one of the dead assassins. The other was buried under a mountain of rubble. The soldier was dressed in a suit like mine but colored deep scarlet and covered in plates of armor. It also had the unmistakable radiance of zero-matter. The front of his helmet was smooth and dark, hiding the face beneath and his breastplate was emblazoned with a gold symbol of a circle containing a twelve point star. The image burned into my mind. I wanted to learn more about the soldier from a different dimension that wanted to kill me but the approaching sounds of battle tore me from my study. I looked back once to Dr. Marcus’ body before running east.

Chapter 3 I ran until dawn and then hid. As soon as the sun had set low enough to bring out the night animals, I ran again and did not stop until soft pink light crept over the eastern horizon. I found another place to hide and waited out the day. That was the hardest part, being stuck with nothing to do. I moved easily enough through the dark, rarely tripping or stumbling as I ran. I

knew I wasn’t breaking any records for miles per hour but figured I was getting at least seventy to eighty miles a night. I would’ve gone further if it was possible, made it all the way to the east coast if I hadn’t damaged my suit. The ground had been flat for a long time, making the running easy. It was raining, blocking out the moon and stars completely the only light coming from the occasional small town and lightning flashes that I could see for miles and miles. One bolt struck within a quarter mile and the concussion of the thunder shook the ground under my feet. It felt like the explosions in the lab. Before I knew it, I was thinking about Dr. Marcus, General Brayton and even his pathetic toady Tanner. I hoped Dr. Marcus was alright, didn’t give a crap about the other two but knew they were probably all sharing the same fate. I got so wrapped up in wanting to know anything about their fate that I hardly noticed the straight row of trees I passed through, barely saw the white paneled farmhouse they protected from the harsh winds of the flatlands and did not see at all the large disks of the tractor furrow plow as I turned to run behind the barn and out of sight. I crashed into the steel plow at full speed and felt my suit rip on the hardened steel. Lightning flashed nearby as I fell forward. I felt the matter in the air and ground when I fell. It was different, coarser than anything I had worked with in the lab. My body wanted to absorb it but I fought back the urge. I hadn’t had much success with taking in non-elemental solids and liquids. The results were messy at best. I tried looked down to my chest to punch the green button but the control box was not going to help me. It was cut straight down the middle. When I fell, my chest must have slammed into one of the furrow disks.

I pulled myself free of the plow and sacrificed delicacy for speed. The suit was already ruined. It wasn’t like I could take a needle, stitch up the tears and it would be fine again. Once punctured, the piece of technology was worthless.

I grabbed the legs and jerked up, enlarging

the cuts and tears until they reached my crotch. I bent forward fast and pulled the rest of the suit over my head and kicked my feet free of the thick soled boots. I lost my balance and fell backwards, smacking into the muddy ground. Despite the muck, after a week of being confined to my suit, hiding inside of it, it felt wonderful to be free. The pleasure was short lived. Lightning flashed and lit the muddy yard and house. Two young faces stared at me from a window on the second floor. Their eyes were wide and mouths were open. Their noses touched the glass. The light disappeared into the darkness. I rolled over, grabbed my suit and the matter tanks, and scrambled towards the barn. Through the drumming of the rain, I heard both children shouting for their parents. I couldn’t tell if they were terrified or excited and wasn’t going to take the time to find out. Once in the barn, I dropped the suit to the floor and pounded a clearly labeled button at the top of the matter tanks. They hissed as they converted their contents into easily assumable gas. “Hurry up you piece of junk!” I said harshly. As the red light turned green and the loose atoms and molecules started coming from the pack, I head a door slam and a deep voice yell. “Stay in the house. Call Dave!” The words were followed by the distinct metallic sounds of a gun being cocked.

I started pulling the matter into my superstructure, building my body, hoping it would be done in time for me to get out of there. I didn’t know who I wanted to hide from more: the man with the gun or the inter-dimensional soldiers looking to bring my head home on a plate. Lightning flashed again, shooting light into the barn through cracks in the walls. I took a quick look around the structure and found what I was looking for. I grabbed the suit and matter tank and almost jerked my arm out of the socket as I tried to lift them. Already, my body was losing strength, losing its radiance as I covered it with natural matter. I could feel blood pump heavy in my veins as I strained to pick up the suit and tank that had been light as paper seconds earlier. I guessed I was over two-thirds complete when I heard an angry shout. “You, in the barn! Come out with your hands where I can see them!” Too late to get out of here, I thought as I tried to speed up the body building process. I was almost there, less than ten percent to go. I pulled the suit and tank across the dirt floor, trying to get it to the old truck rusting in the corner. It was up on blocks, the tireless rims stacked behind it. A torn blue tarp covered most of the cab and the bed was overflowing with odds and ends, old trash that found a permanent home in a larger piece of garbage. “I’ll give you a ten count to come out of there!” the voice boomed. “One…two…” The countdown stopped and I could hear a hushed conversation happening but could not make out the words over the drum of the rain on the barn’s metal roof. I was almost complete, the last bits of material coming out of the pack much more slowly now that pressure was almost gone. I needed every last bit, every atom, every proton, neutron and electron to hide my super-structure. Using every ounce of strength I had, I pulled the tank up over my head and shook it, trying to dislodge the last stubborn pieces. My body sucked them

in as soon as they were free, dragged them to where they needed to be and I knew I was complete. Several thoughts ran through my head at once. I hoped I was fast enough, that I was out of range of whatever sensors the soldiers used and they hadn’t picked me up. I hoped I was far enough from the base that they couldn’t track me, couldn’t find me. And I hoped more than anything that this family, especially the two little kids that had seen me from the window wouldn’t have to suffer from my crashing into their lives. Lightning flared again and thunder crashed immediately. It was a close strike, shaking the walls of the barn. I pulled the ID cylinder out of the suit’s front pouch before reaching the old truck, pushed the suit and tank under it and knocked over some of the trash off the mound in the bed to hide my work. I backed away, scuffing my feet to obscure the trail I had left on the dirt floor, grabbed some loose straw and threw it on the ground. The argument outside the barn was loud enough to hear now. “Go inside!” the older voice said. “You could get hurt.” “Mom said to help you. I’m not leaving,” a smaller voice said so firmly I was not surprised to hear the older voice give in. “Fine, you hold the flash light then.” An oblong ring of light fell on the ground outside the wide barn door. The man’s voice barked. “Come out by ten or I’ll come in shooting!” I could tell he found the thought of coming into the dark barn and shooting at an unknown target as unappealing as I did. He started the countdown again. I looked around for

another way out of the barn but without the help of some lightning to show me the way, I knew I was stuck. When he got to five, I yelled. “I’m coming out! I don’t have any weapons!” I raised my hands and moved towards the light outside the door. I froze just before stepping into the beam of the flashlight, remembering I was stark naked and there was a young boy standing there with a gun holding father. I scanned the darkness for anything I could use to cover myself. “Hurry it up whoever you are! You don’t want me to come in there!” Lightning helped me out again. There was a pile of empty sacks next to the door. I grabbed one and wrapped it around my waist like a towel. “I’m coming!” I shouted. “Don’t shoot! I’m coming right now!” I took a deep breath and stepped out the door. The beam of the flashlight hit me right in the face, forcing me to squint. I lowered a hand to my eyes. The man, holding a shotgun pointed at my chest with one hand, leaned heavily on a cane with the other. No wonder the mother had insisted the boy come out to help. There was no way the father could have held both the shotgun and old-style square battery powered flash light. His leg on the side with the cane was wrapped in a brace so thick it wasn’t hard to guess that whatever had happened was going to take a long time to heal. The boy held the flashlight steady, both hands wrapped around the handle so he could keep it at his chest. He was wearing a yellow raincoat with the hood up and black rubber boots. The father had on a red and black checked robe, completely soaked in the rain and boots just like his son’s. “Good lord…” he said softly.

I could only guess what he was thinking. There I was, naked except for a plastic canvas sack wrapped around my waist and soaking wet. He got over his shock quickly. “Who are you?” Where to begin? No easy answer to that question. “My name’s Adam. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you…” He cut me off, motioning towards my right hand with his gun. “What’s in your hand? Show me now or I swear…” “Easy, easy,” I said. “It’s just my ID.” I lowered my hand slowly and opened it, palm up. His gun tracked the movement. “What are you doing here? Why are you naked?” The initial anger was subsiding but the gun stayed pointed at me. I tried to think of an answer. The boy already had one. “He fell out of the sky. He’s a space man, Dad. I saw him. He was wearing a space suit and when he took it off he was glowing. Sarah said he was an angel cause he was so bright but I said he was a space man cause of his suit. Tell him,” the boy directed at me. “Tell him you’re a space man just like I saw.” Space man or angel, both sounded ridiculous but for all I knew, could be true. Whatever the father was thinking went unsaid as a pair of headlights lit up the edge of the tree line. A combustion engine truck rumbled into the yard as the rain stopped. The driver’s door creaked open and a large man wearing a brown raincoat with a badge pinned to the left lapel, slid out of the seat. “Gary? You folks alright?” “Yeah, Dave. We’re fine.”

“Well, look at that,” the sheriff said as he slammed the truck door and stood next to the father. “What do we have here?” “He’s a space man,” the son said before his dad could answer. “He fell out of the sky.” “Well how ‘bout that? A space man,” the sheriff said in a soft voice that was neither mocking nor disbelieving. “Robby, why don’t you give me the flashlight and go tell your momma that everything’s okay out here.” “I want to stay,” the boy whined. “I’m sure you do but your momma’s got to be pretty worried about you. Run inside and let her know that everybody’s safe and then you can come back out if she lets you, alright?” Robby looked up at his dad. “Do what Sheriff Dawson said, son. You can watch from the window.” The boy’s shoulder’s sagged but he didn’t argue. He passed the heavy flashlight to the sheriff and trudged inside, kicking clumps of mud as he walked. “When Ruth called and told me you were out here stomping around in the dark with a gun looking for a trespasser, I said that couldn’t be. ‘Gary’s not that dumb,’ I said. He knows better than walking on that bad leg but she insisted you were already out the door,” the sheriff chided gently. “The leg’s fine, Dave,” the father said and then flicked the end of the gun my direction. “What about this?” “Yes, what about this?” the sheriff said, turning his attention back to me. “What’re you doing? What’s your business here?” “Lost, wet and cold. Just looking for a place to dry off before I get moving again,” I said, knowing that neither of them would accept it as the whole truth.

“Well, I believe the first part of that but can’t help wondering why you’re running around naked in the middle of the night. You’ve got to be running from something and the only things that come to mind are bad home life, the army or escaped from prison. Which one is it?” All three actually fit in a strange sense. I picked the one least likely to get me in trouble. “Bad home life works.” “Gary? Gary, what’s happening?” a woman’s voice called from the front steps of the house. “It’s alright, hon. Everything’s fine.” “I’m gonna take this boy into town, see if we can’t figure out where he came from, Ruth,” the sheriff said and then patted Gary on the shoulder. “Go inside. Take care of your family and see if you can get the kids back to sleep. There’s still a couple hours ‘til sunrise. I’ll take it from here.” Gary looked at me nervously, still pointing the gun at my chest. “I’d feel a lot better about that if he were in cuffs and in the back of your truck first.” “Fair enough,” the sheriff agreed and looked at me. “Will you go along with that?” I nodded and the sheriff pulled a pair of hand-cuffs from his pocket and threw them at my feet. “Slip those on behind your back and get in the truck. Do it quick now so these hard working folks can get back to bed.” I crouched and almost lost my canvas sack. I put the hand-cuffs in my mouth and redid the sack when I stood. I slipped the cold metal rings around my wrists and they tightened automatically. I turned around so Gary and the sheriff could see they were secure. “Good enough for me but hold on just a second.”

The sheriff went to his truck, opened the passenger door, and pulled out a gray wool blanket and a small cord. He wrapped it around my shoulders and tied the cord around my waist. “Just in case your little skirt decides to come off again,” he said and patted my back. “Hop in the truck.” “Dave, don’t you think he should ride in back?” Gary asked uncertainly. “We’re not gonna have a problem,” the sheriff said, looking me in the eyes. “No, sir.” I shook my head. “We’ll be fine,” he said to Gary. “Go back to bed. Try to get some sleep and I’ll see you at church in the morning.” I climbed awkwardly into the passenger side of the truck. The sheriff had left it running and the heat on. It felt like slipping into a thousand blankets. I tried to pull the door closed with my foot but couldn’t get the right angle. The sheriff chuckled as he pushed the squeaky door closed. “Name’s Dave Dawson, parent’s liked the letter ‘D’ quite a bit,” he said once he was seated and turning the truck around. “How about you? Got a name you want to share?” “Adam,” I said and tried to keep my teeth from chattering. I waited for more questions, specifically ones about how I ended up hiding naked in a barn. None came. The sheriff played with the radio dial until he found a station he liked. “Don’t usually listen to the radio this time of morning. Probably should though. This is when they play the good music without all the commercials.” He sang along softly to the song I’d never heard before. Something about a tear in a beer. It was a pleasant enough tune but not really my style.

The dashboard lights gave me a decent look at him. He was probably just shy of fifty, his face was heavily lined, brown hair graying and high on his forehead. His thick moustache had already turned completely silver and hid his upper lip. The bottom lip was thick and stuck out a little further than his recessed chin. He was not a handsome man but the way he spoke and moved was gentle and kind and I liked him, felt like I could trust him as much as I could allow myself to trust anyone. I looked ahead, watching the darkness melt under the onslaught of the headlights. The road was smooth, cutting a perfect straight line through dark fields. A sign came into view, welcoming us to Red Water, Kansas, population one hundred and thirty-eight. “That number will go up at the end of the year. Just found out yesterday that the Baker’s are gonna have twins.” “Who’re the Bakers?” I asked despite myself. The sheriff’s personality and manor made it hard to be distant. “Just that poor family you terrified tonight.” “Oh,” I said, ashamed. “I didn’t know she was pregnant, didn’t know anything about them. I never meant to bother anyone. I swear.” “I believe you, Adam but I still got to make sure you’re not gonna be a problem. People in this town expect me to take care of them, keep them safe. I wouldn’t be doing my job it I didn’t check you out. Here we are.” He stopped the truck in front of a small building, the only one in town with lights on. There was a wooden sign nailed to two posts in front of the truck. The sign looked almost as old as the building and needed paint in a bad way but it was still legible. “Red Water City Hall & Sheriff’s Office.”

“Let’s go.” I slid out of the truck and walked next to the sheriff. “Sheriff Dawson, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bother anyone,” I said as he held the door open. He tipped his head inside. “I believe you but we still got to do this by the book. Over there.” He pointed a thick finger to the right. I went through the open door into a room maybe thirty feet square. Half of it was an office with an old wooden desk, cork board with a few government issued posters and a computer system that looked completely out of place next to an old television built into a wood cabinet and worn out couch. The other half of the room was a cage of black, thick, ancient iron bars. It looked nothing like the room General Brayton had put me in but resonated with the same feeling. I dropped my head and moved towards the open gate. “I didn’t tell you to go in there,” the sheriff said and put a hand on my shoulder. “You can if you want to but I don’t think we need to do that.” “Thank you, Sheriff.” “No problem and the name’s Dave unless you prefer to stick with Sheriff. Now let’s figure out if there’s any reason to be afraid of you.” He reached down to the handcuffs and pinched the connecting strap with his thumb and forefinger. The rings relaxed and slipped off my hands. “Pretty neat stuff,” Sheriff Dawson said as he pointed to the couch. “Reads my biometrics. I’m the only one that can open these. Not what I’m used to but it’s growing on me. A lot like this computer here.” He placed a palm on a scanner and the desktop computer fired to life.

“Put your right hand there just like I did. The magic box will tell us if you’re dangerous or not.” I extended my hand and laid it on the scanner. “Well, your palm’s not in the system so I know you don’t have a criminal record and aren’t a deserter. Let’s see that cylinder.” I passed him the small toggle. He dropped it into a proportionally sized hole at the top of the palm scanner. “Adam Smith,” he half-whispered my name while he looked at the screen. I wished I knew what he was reading. “Congratulations, Adam,” Sheriff Dawson said when he was finished. “Congratulations for what?” I asked nervously, clueless as to where he was going. “First for having good identification and no criminal background. That frees you up quite a bit and second for your birthday last week. Eighteen means I don’t need to know anything else about your past. Don’t need to know where you come from or what drove you to wind up naked in the Baker’s barn. Assuming they don’t press any criminal charges against you, and I’m pretty sure they won’t providing you didn’t cause any damage to their property…” I shook my head. “No, not unless I damaged the plow. I ran into it in the dark.” Dave looked at me curiously and looked back to his computer screen.

“Not likely,” he said absently as he reread something. “Unless you can bend steel with your bare hands, I doubt you even scratched it.” “What is it?” I asked, getting nervous with his rapt attention to the screen. “Nothing too important but you’ll want to make a change to your profile. Says here you have blue eyes, not brown.” “Damn,” I swore under my breath. Of all the things to not pay attention to. “What was that?” Sheriff Dawson asked, pulling his eyes away from the screen. “Nothing. It’s just they used to be blue, when I was a little kid. I never liked them so I had them dyed,” I quickly lied. “Didn’t realize the color was still wrong on that.” Dave gave me a funny look and pulled the cylinder from the slot. He stretched his arms over his head, leaned back heavily in his seat. “There’s a shower across the hall. Nothing fancy but go ahead and get cleaned up. I think we’ve got some extra clothes around here left over from the church rummage sale. I’ll try to find something your size.” He stood up and stretched again. I got to my feet slowly. “Somethin’ wrong, Adam?” “No, not really. It’s just that I’m a little confused.” Sheriff Dawson scratched his head, ruffling his thin hair.

“About what?” “I thought that I’d be sitting in that cell with the door locked by now. All you really know about me is my name. Why are you being so nice?” He put his hand on my shoulder again and looked me in the eyes. “This is a good town, good people but not a lot of them anymore. Not many like the small town life these days. My job isn’t just keeping the town safe; it’s also partly keeping it alive. You seem like a good young man even though our introduction was a little unusual. You don’t have a past that I’m concerned about so as long as you keep your nose clean, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you like.” “That’s all?” I asked skeptically. “That’s all,” he said and pulled up his pants by the belt. “Now don’t take this the wrong way but you really need that shower. That mud all over your legs ain’t just mud if you know what I mean.” The shower was incredible. I stayed in much longer than I should’ve - a combination of the warm water and the opportunity of being alone. I knew I should reject Sheriff Dawson’s offer of staying and hit the road immediately. I had been exposed and for all I knew, the army or the Source Guardians, probably even both, were on the way right now, ready to make this little town a black crater in the middle of the cornfields. But, Red Water was hundreds of miles from the lab and a town of less than two hundred people was probably the last place they would be looking. Also, Dr. Marcus had a plan to hide my escape and no matter who my pursuers were or where they were from, I doubted they were smarter than him. My exposure had been brief, just

the few minutes it took me to assume the matter and by now it had to have been at least an hour. Surely, they would be here already if they were looking for me. I argued with myself until the water turned cold and ended my shower. I opened the curtain and grabbed a towel. My decision was still not made when I put the towel on my head and began to dry my hair. The terry-cloth was soft and smelled fresh and clean. I pulled the towel down and saw a blue cotton shirt and a pair of jeans folded neatly on the sink and under them, a pair of old boots stuffed with a pair of white socks. There was a note on the shirt. “The missus is bringing some breakfast. Come out when you’re ready.” I picked up the clothes with one hand while I dried with the other and held them to my face. They smelled just like the towel. # “Well, look at you,” a silver-haired, short woman with twinkling blue eyes in a navy dress said when I entered Sheriff Dawson’s office. “David told me you were a nice young man but he didn’t tell me how handsome you are.” My face felt hot and I realized I was blushing. Sheriff Dawson cut short my embarrassment. “Leave him alone, Brenda. I just convinced him this is a nice place. He doesn’t need old women hitting on him and scaring him off.” I ran a hand through my shaggy hair and smiled. “It’s alright. I’m just not used to compliments from pretty girls.” I already knew I was okay with Sheriff Dawson and getting his wife on my side wouldn’t hurt. I was going to need as many friends as I could get. Mrs. Dawson smiled brightly and her cheeks turned a little pink.

“Well, let’s get you fed before David eats everything. I hope I brought enough.” “It smells fantastic,” I said honestly and looked ravenously at the pile of bacon, eggs and buttered toast. I could have eaten forever but the mountain of food disappeared too quickly. “Sorry,” I said when I was done. “Guess I didn’t realize how hungry I was.” “Nothing to be sorry for. That was for you, honey,” Mrs. Dawson said and patted my shoulder. “Come on now, we don’t want to be late.” “Late for what?” I asked as I wiped a hand over my mouth to get rid of whatever crumbs might be there. “For church,” Sheriff Dawson said as he stood and hitched up his pants. I had a feeling he needed to do that every time he got to his feet. His stomach looked like a bowling ball balanced on his belt buckle and tucked under a shirt. I’d never considered going to church a possibility in my life. In my world, science had been God and physics were the text of the religion. I must have looked a little panicked at the idea. “If you don’t want to go, that’s alright. We just thought you might like to meet some of the people around here.” Their eyes twinkled and their smiles were sincere. I thought about going with them for a microsecond, for the sole purpose of not being rude. “If it’s all the same to you, I think I’d better pass.” I started a fake yawn which turned into a real one half way through. “I haven’t slept in a long time. I’d hate to make a bad impression by snoring through the service.” I tried my best smile.

“It’d be a miracle if anyone could hear you over David’s sleeping bear grunts,” Mrs. Dawson said and elbowed her husband in the ribs. He smiled at her gently and shrugged. “If you change your mind, just head out the front door and turn left. You’ll run into the church in a half mile. Can’t miss it,” he said. “We’ll be back in a couple hours.” I should have been surprised that they didn’t lock me in. As it was, they just left, walked out the front door hand in hand and were gone. It was strange but at the same time natural. The way they looked at me and talked to me, the opposite of General Brayton and to a lesser degree, Dr. Marcus, was how people should interact and I liked it. I went to the computer and tried to activate it. It didn’t turn back on until I put my hand on the scanner. The opening screen looked different than it had for Sheriff Dawson, more generic and I assumed not allowing access to the law enforcement files and programs. My ID cylinder was next to the palm scanner. I dropped it in the reading slot and drummed my fingers as I waited to see who Dr. Marcus was telling the world I was. Pretty bland stuff: my name; born March 21, 2012; six foot two; one hundred ninety-five pounds; brown hair; and the ‘incorrect’ blue eyes. The picture looked just like me except the hair was a little longer.

It did show a driver’s permit, a government identification number and a

home address in California, which was go to know. That was all the information on the primary screen. There was a small box in the upper right corner asking for a password. I typed in my name. It rejected it. I tried ‘Dr. Marcus,’ ‘Keith Marcus,’ ‘Brayton,’ ‘zero-matter,’ and a dozen others that failed before remembering Dr. Marcus’ last words to me. I typed in “Jen” and then

“Jennifer” and then “Jennifer Marcus.” I tried as many combinations as I could think of. All of them returned the message, “Invalid Password.” I leaned back in the squeaky old chair and put my hands behind my head. I was exhausted physically and mentally and did not have the patience to play guessing games any more. I popped the silver toggle out of the slot and dropped it into my pocket. I looked up Red Water. There wasn’t much to learn beyond what the welcome sign said. The only bit of interest was its location in the south west corner of the state and was hundreds of miles away from the nearest mountain. My next search turned out just like I expected it to. There was no record, no indication of any attacks or military events in North America. The labs were secret. I was secret. Certainly the fact that people from another dimension were charging into ours and trying to destroy me would not be dispersed to the panic prone public. I thought about looking up Dr. Marcus and learning something about the man I had known for eighteen years. I yawned again, reminding me of how exhausted I was. It was an odd sensation, being tired. I looked at a wood faced clock with brass hands and numbers. It had been a little less than a half hour since Sheriff and Mrs. Dawson left. I rubbed my eyes and went to the cot in the cell. The blanket smelled like my clothes. The old springs and metal frame groaned under my weight. Closing my eyes and relaxing felt even better than eating. Dr. Marcus, General Brayton, zero-matter and inter-dimensional soldiers could wait. I was warm. I was safe and so deep in the middle of nowhere that they would never find me.

Chapter 4 “Adam, it’s so nice to finally meet you,” Laura said warmly after coming through the front door. I was nervous, intimidated at meeting the Dawson’s daughter for the first time after months of hearing about her and having plenty of time to study the many pictures around the house. They’d made several trips to see her at the University of Kansas but due to her class schedule and a summer internship, this was the first time she’d made the trip home to Red Water. She was their only child, twenty-two years old, an absolute genius in her parents eyes and knockyour-socks-off gorgeous. Tall, just a few inches shorter than me with dark blue eyes, naturally curly blond hair to her shoulders, nose sprinkled with just the right amount of freckles and her smile was perfect - not the cosmetically enhanced perfect either, just perfect by nature. Without ever meeting or talking to her, I’d reached a high level of adoration. Meeting her was just the icing on the cake. Her voice was sweet as honey and her eyes sparkled in a way the photos didn’t do justice. “Yeah,” I said and forgot to finish the sentence. We were shaking hands and I held on to hers longer than I should have. “I’m gonna need that back,” she said with a wink. I snapped back to reality and felt my face turn red. She giggled. I tried to console myself with the thought that she was probably pretty familiar to reactions like mine. It didn’t help. The guy standing behind her had a twisted smirk on his face that further fueled my embarrassment.

“Mom, Dad,” she said, “You remember Richard.” “It is a pleasure to see you again,” Richard said and extended his hand to Sheriff Dawson. Knowing his feelings towards his daughter’s boyfriend, it didn’t surprise me to see Richard wince a little bit when his hand was enveloped by Sheriff Dawson’s thick paw. Mrs. Dawson noticed the grimace too and with her hand wrapped behind the sheriff’s back, pinched his love handle to remind him to be nice. “We’re glad you could come,” he said as he relaxed his grip and smiled stiffly. “Yes, we’re very glad you could join us,” Mrs. Dawson said and stepped forward to give Richard a hug. He bent awkwardly at the waist to return the loose embrace and looked relieved when it was over. There was more silence than was comfortable after the exchange. “Mom, what can I do to help?” Laura asked quickly, her eyes darting from Richard’s face to her father, who was unconsciously glowering at their visitor. “Oh, not much left to be done, dear,” Mr. Dawson said. “Just need to watch the clock and get everything in and out of the oven at the right time.” “Well, let’s get in there then and make sure nothing burns. I’m sure these three strong handsome men can handle getting the suitcases out of the car.” She gave Richard a peck on the cheek and reassuringly squeezed his arm before rushing to the kitchen with her mother. “Have you lost weight? You and Dad both look great.” “Oh, you’re sweet to notice, honey…”

They disappeared through the swinging door, already lost in conversation with one another. “I can get the bags myself if you two don’t want to help,” Richard said. I’m sure he thought he was doing the sheriff and me a favor, but the way he said it made it sound more like we were putting him out. At least, that’s what I tried to tell myself. Already, after less than two minutes of knowing him, I was developing a strong dislike for Richard. Mrs. Dawson had forced us to promise to be nice, something easier for me since Richard hadn’t broken the heart of my little girl just a few months earlier. I never got the exact details of what happened but it had been enough that Laura had almost dropped out of her graduate program and come home. There were many long phone calls and a great deal of swearing by Sheriff Dawson but in the end, Laura had decided to forgive Richard and get back together. Sheriff Dawson had been less than thrilled by the decision and even more upset by the fact Richard was coming for Thanksgiving. “No, it’s alright. We’ll give you a hand,” Sheriff Dawson said and shouldered past Richard. I followed suit and at the car, realized Richard was right. It didn’t take three men to carry two suit cases. Richard stepped quickly in front of me to make sure he got his hands on one of the bags. I didn’t like the idea going back into the house empty handed so I went to the shed in the backyard and grabbed a rake. I had finished cleaning up the yard the day before but strong winds during the night had stripped the last straggling leaves from the trees. It wasn’t much but I’d rather be outside enjoying the cool but not quite cold air and the smells of autumn than inside, stuck with the uncomfortable atmosphere generated by Sheriff Dawson’s icy looks at

Richard. Mostly though, I didn’t want to be around Laura. Just meeting her and touching her hand had shaken me. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling, just unnerving. I told myself working would give me a chance to calm down and brace myself against her smile. Red Water wasn’t exactly overflowing with beautiful women but there were a few girls close to my age, ready to bust out of town as soon as they graduated high school. The Dawson’s were gentle but persistent in encouraging me to get to know the girls that giggled and turned away whenever I passed them going to the store or on my way home from work. They said they were concerned that I spent too much time with “old fogies” like them and needed to enjoy the company of my peers. I would smile and laugh, evade the issue through a few jokes but never gave them a solid no because that meant an unavoidable explanation as to why. The truth was, I really did not know how to act around people my age, especially members of the opposite sex. Except for Dr. Swanson, I’d never known a girl at all but she was so much a mother figure that I couldn’t really consider her a woman. I almost laughed out loud when I thought about awkward it would have been if Dr. Marcus had tried to teach me about girls. I stopped what I was doing and tried to wrangle my thoughts back into control. Can’t think about the past. Focus on the present, the new life and leave the rest behind. It wasn’t as easy as I’d hoped but eventually, I snapped out of the unwanted memories by thinking about Laura’s smile and how soft her hand had been. Unfortunately, I was right back where I’d started when I decided to stay outside. I made sure every last leaf and twig was picked up and disposed of. I put the rake away and decided to sweep out the shed. I lost track of time as I worked, moving from just sweeping to organizing, straightening and making small repairs. The squat red-brick three bedroom house

was neat as a pin, the shed was a disaster, marking a clear line between Mrs. and Sheriff Dawson’s domains. “Adam! Time to eat!” The sheriff didn’t sound happy and I doubted cleaning the shed for him would make up for abandoning him with Richard. “What were you doing out there?” Mrs. Dawson said with raised eyebrows when I came in through the backdoor. “What?” I said and looked down, noticing the dust all over my clothes. “Oh…the shed. I was cleaning it.” “The shed?” Laura asked, her eyebrows arching just like her mother’s. “You were cleaning Dad’s garbage pit? On Thanksgiving?” My delay plan had not worked at all. I could feel my stomach flip-flopping just hearing her voice. “Well, it just kind of happened…” I said sheepishly and started patting dust off my shirt. “No! No, not in here. Go change and hurry. I think I can hold David back from eating for five minutes. Go now!” Mrs. Dawson pushed me out the kitchen door and down the hall towards my room. I saw Sheriff Dawson and Richard sitting at the table already. Richard was inspecting the many framed photographs and paintings on the walls while the sheriff glowered at his empty plate. He looked up and saw me. “Adam, what’re you doing?” he said, his eyes begging for me to come in and spare him more alone time with Laura’s boyfriend.

“I gotta change. Got lost in what I was doing out there. Shed’s clean though,” I said over my shoulder. “The shed? What in heaven’s name were you doing…” I closed the door to my room, cutting off the end of the question and looked for something to change into. I was wearing my best clothes, black pants with a light blue polo style shirt, and knew my alternatives were pretty slim. My laundry day was tomorrow and I didn’t have too many spare outfits to choose from. The Dawsons, after arranging for me to work for the Bakers while Gary’s leg healed, had opened their home to me and let me live in their third bedroom, a combination office and dust covered fitness room. There was a twin sized bed in one corner, a small chest of drawers that my clothes never found their way into, a desk and a folded up treadmill that served as my hamper. As long as I kept the bathroom across the hall clean and the mess of my room didn’t spill out into the rest of the house, Mrs. Dawson was okay with it. They had set a ridiculously small amount for room and board, which I tried to supplement by performing as many extra chores as I could and occasionally doing their grocery shopping, paying half the bill with my own money. Mrs. Dawson was too in touch with how much things actually cost to not realize what I was doing but she never let on. The sheriff was completely oblivious. I found what I was looking for and grimaced. It made perfect sense that the only clean pair of pants I would have were overalls. I took a minute to curse myself and tried dusting off my slacks. Pushing away the fine dirt revealed a grease mark running from my left hip around my butt. I must have backed into something. “You gotta be kidding me!” I stripped off the dirty pants and shirt.

“Adam! Hurry up!” Sheriff Dawson yelled. I pulled on a tee-shirt, barely aware that it was right side out and pulled on the overalls. I was still fastening the shoulder straps when I got to the table. Everyone was seated, Sheriff Dawson at the head, Mrs. Dawson to his right and Laura and Richard were sitting next to each other on the left. “Sorry,” I mumbled as I sat down. I thought I saw another smirk on Richard’s face for a split second. I couldn’t really blame him though. Given the choice, I would have been wearing a new argyle sweater and khakis just like him. “Thanks for joining us, Adam,” Sheriff Dawson said wryly. “That’s enough, dear,” Mrs. Dawson said and grabbed my hand. “Why don’t you just say grace?” Sheriff Dawson smiled and took her hand as well as Laura’s. I looked at Richard and held out my hand. He hesitated but eventually took it like he was being forced to touch a leper. Not my first choice either, buddy, I thought. The prayer was brief and at ‘Amen,’ Richard jerked his hand back just as fast as I did mine. “Let’s eat,” Sheriff Dawson said and started cutting into the golden turkey. While he carved and we all started dishing up heaping mounds of mashed potatoes, stuffing, yams and home-made roles, Mrs. Dawson and Laura took control of breaking the silence. “Richard,” Mrs. Dawson said, “what are your parents doing for Thanksgiving this year?” “So, Adam…” Laura said at the same time, “How do you like Red Water?”

I tried to answer but was over-ridden by Richard’s response. “They’re in France right now,” Richard said smoothly, “Thought they would treat themselves to a little trip since they didn’t need to worry about me this year.” Laura looked at me and smiled. She mouthed, “Later, okay?” I nodded, gulped down some butterflies, and passed my plate for some turkey. “That sounds nice,” Mrs. Dawson said. “Is this their first time?” “No, actually, I was born there. We lived in Paris until I was twelve.” Sheriff Dawson looked up from his plate. “Do you ever think about going back yourself?” Mrs. Dawson shot the sheriff a dirty look. He smiled and shrugged. Richard seemed to miss the real intention of the question. “Actually, yes. My father just arranged a position for me at his old hospital there as soon as I’m done at KU med.” “What?” Laura asked and started coughing with a mouthful of food. She grabbed her glass and took a sip of water to dislodge the lump of partially chewed stuffing. “When did this happen?” “Just a few days ago. I wanted to surprise you,” Richard said, his broad cosmetically symmetrical smile beaming. “That’s actually why they went, to set this up for us.” Mrs. Dawson set down her fork while the sheriff chewed painstakingly slowly. Laura looked intently at Richard. “Well, you surprised me,” she said. “When are you planning on going?” “No specific plans yet but we’ll have to start making some soon.” Laura’s face was pale when she looked back to her plate.

“Is something wrong?” Richard asked obliviously. “No, no just surprised is all,” Laura said and flashed her smile but her eyes didn’t mirror it. “Congratulations. I know that’s what you were hoping for.” “Thank you, honey,” Richard said, leaned over and kissed her cheek. Sheriff Dawson stuffed another heaping forkful of food into his mouth a little too quickly and Mrs. Dawson focused on cutting her food into perfect sized bites. The rest of the meal was dominated by Richard telling stories about growing up in France and the wealth of knowledge and culture available there. He never said it outright but the way he phrased his sentences, it was pretty clear to me that everything he was saying about the merits of France was in direct comparison to the shortcomings of heartland America. When everyone was finished eating, Sheriff Dawson stood and pulled his pants up by the belt buckle as he did after every meal. “Well, Adam, let’s take care of these dishes.” He started stacking plates and pinched the rims of four glasses together with his free hand. I gathered as much as I could and carried them into the kitchen. Unsurprisingly, the small factory that had churned out our feast was spotless already. All that needed to be done was cleaning scraps off plates and putting them in the dishwasher. Sheriff Dawson started working on that while I went back to clear more of the table. “Do you mind if I take a little nap? Getting up at five and driving here really wiped me out.” “Why don’t you help Dad and Adam with the dishes, Richard?”

“I’m sure they’re fine besides, that kitchen’s only big enough for the two of them anyway. You don’t need any help, do you?” he asked me, acknowledging my presence in the room for the first time. “Naw, we’re alright. Mrs. Dawson did most the work already,” I said, wanting Richard in the kitchen even less than he wanted to be there. “Great,” he said, stood, and pecked Laura on the cheek. He was on the couch in the front room before she could say anything else. I took the pile of dishes into the kitchen where Mrs. Dawson was stripping tiny bits of meat from the turkey frame. Sheriff Dawson had most of the plates in the dishwasher already and both were whispering to each other. “I know, hon, even worse than I expected,” he was saying but went silent the second I was in the kitchen. “He’s taking a nap on the couch,” I said with a grin. “I don’t think he can hear you.” Mrs. Dawson smiled and put a hand on my shoulder. “Are we that obvious?” she asked. “No, he’s just that obnoxious,” I said and cringed when I heard footsteps behind me. I hoped Laura hadn’t heard me but knew she probably had. I waited for her to defend Richard and berate me for acting like a part of her family. “Mom, do you want to go on a walk?” “Oh, honey, I wish I could but I have to finish the pies before the Bakers come over. Poor Ruth is due in less than month and just miserable so I invited them over for dessert. I can’t disappoint them.”

“Dad? How about you?” she asked hopefully with her arms crossed loosely over her stomach. “I think I’d have a heart attack if I walked further than my lazy-boy right now. If you can wait until after I digest a little bit, then sure, I’d love to.” “Thanks anyway but I need to stretch my legs now,” she said with a small smile and then punched me in the shoulder. “Looks like it’s you and me, Adam.” “What?” I sputtered. “No, I can’t go. I have to finish…” “Finish nothing. Dad’s got almost all the dishes done and unless you’re a master pastry chef, you won’t be any help to Mom. Let’s go.” “Go on, Adam. Burn off some of that mountain of food you devoured and come back hungry,” Mrs. Dawson said and pushed me towards Laura. “Alright, I’m going,” I said under duress. “Wow, I’m flattered,” Laura said and giggled. “I didn’t realize you would find my company so revolting.” “I…No, it’s not…” “I need a jacket. I’ll meet you outside.” Smooth, I thought as I went out. Richard was snoring on the couch, lying on his back with his mouth wide open. I wished I had a peanut to toss in the gaping hole. # “So where we going?” I asked. “Don’t know. You want to see if they still have the tether balls out at the school?”

Whatever angst, anger or disappointment I assumed she was feeling, she hid very well. Looking at her eyes and her smile made me completely forget she had a jerk boyfriend sleeping on the couch in her parent’s house. “You want to play tether ball?” I said and caught the contagion of her smile. “Yeah, why not? Afraid I’ll kick your butt?” She jumped in front of me, turned around and walked backwards. “You probably will,” I shrugged. “I’ve never played.” “Never played? Are you kidding me?” she laughed, a rich full sound that made my stomach jump again. “Where did you grow up?” I stopped walking and looked at her hard, trying to decide if she wanted an answer or not. Her parents had given up months ago trying to figure out how I ended up there. Obviously, I never spoke about it and for the most part, tried not to think about it either. I had spent weeks trying to guess the password to the mystery file that would explain everything as Dr. Marcus had promised but with every passing day, I became less a part of that world and more a part of Red Water. The Dawsons accepted me like a son. The rest of the town viewed me with the same ambivalence of someone that had lived there most of his life. As long as the Guardians of the Source never showed up, and every passing day was encouragement that they wouldn’t, I was just Adam Smith and didn’t need to know any more than that. I guess I was wrapped up in my own thoughts for too long. Laura had stopped walking and was scrutinizing my face with her head tilted to the side. “What?” I said, embarrassed by her study. I started walking again. “Nothing really,” she said and fell in step next to me.

We were rapidly approaching the old grain elevators the town was built around. Eighteen concrete tubes, a hundred feet tall, set nine long and two wide, were the dominant feature of the town. Railroad tracks ran along the backside of the Kansas castle and a wide area for trucks graced the front. The sand colored tubes were cracking and crumbling in many places and a large barrier stood guard around the unused loading area. The orange and black barricade blocks and their encroachment sensors had done little to stop determined kids with cans of spray paint from adding their personal touches to the mid-American ruins. “From what I hear, you could’ve filled those up by yourself this year.” “Who told you that? Your parents?” “Nope, Ruth did. She’s pretty happy with you right now. Says you’re their miracle or maybe their ‘angel’?” She said the last word with a knowing look and stopped again, waiting for me to answer. “Angel, huh,” I said, playing dumb. She slapped my chest with the back of her hand. “Come on. I know all about it. Sarah says you’re an angel. Robby says you’re from outer space.” “Oh, is that a fact?” I joked but was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. “Yes it is and don’t try to deny it. I got the whole story straight from Ruth. She used to babysit me when I was little girl and when she started having her kids, I did the same for her. We’re practically sisters for all the time we spent together before I went to college so don’t try denying anything ‘cause you’ll be calling my best friend a liar.” She winked but I could tell there was truth behind her playful tone.

“Look,” I said and stopped in front of the aging elevators. “I know how I showed up here was a little strange but that’s not something I want to talk about, okay? I don’t mean to be rude but that’s it.” She regarded me coolly, arms crossed and one eyebrow raised. “You’ll tell me. Eventually. Everyone always does.” “Or what? You’ll whip out the thumb screws?” She threw back her head and laughed. When she was done, she put a hand on my shoulder, just like her dad did every time he had something serious he wanted to say. Her touch had a very different effect. “Honestly though, when Gary crushed his leg, they didn’t know what they were going to do. Last year was really bad and they didn’t have the money to pay the medical bills and to hire help. You showing up and working for peanuts saved their buckets. And on top of that, they had their biggest harvest ever. You really are their green-thumbed angel.” “I’m just glad I could help,” I said sincerely. I heard the dim sounds of children squealing and realized we were almost at the school. The mother and father of the playing children waved as we approached. “We’ve been talking an awful lot about me. I want to hear a little about you and see how much of what you say matches your parents’ stories.” “Tell you what, beat me at a game of tetherball and my life is an open book.” # It was almost dark when a phone call from Mrs. Dawson to remind us we needed to get back to the house. “You answer it,” Laura said when her mobile buzzed.

“Not me. She’ll use her upset voice and I don’t need that.” “Fine, we’ll just ignore it then. Want to race?” She didn’t wait for an answer. She reached the grain elevators first. “Winner!” she shouted. “Not yet, you’re not home,” I said as I sped past her. “I didn’t say where the finish was,” she said and started walking. I stopped and waited for her to catch up. “A lot of people would call that cheating.” “Rules were not clearly specified so how could I break them?” She stuck out her tongue. It was perfect just like the rest of her. We talked easily the rest of the way home, an unbroken stream of conversation that simultaneously made me more comfortable around her and aware of how much I liked her; the thought of which erased the previous effect. She pointed out houses and revealed secrets of the citizens of Red Water that only someone born and raised there would know. I tried to not stare but the way her rose colored lips moved as she spoke was hypnotic and irresistible. I found myself wondering what they felt like and imagined kissing her for the first time. My mind played a scene of wrapping my arms around her waist and her entwining her fingers in my hair. I could almost feel the gentle crush of her breasts against my chest as I pulled her close and then the warmth of her breath as I leaned in to touch my lips to hers. Her breathing turned from soft to hard, from anticipatory to pleasured in an instant. My hands moved from the middle of her back to much lower as she pressed her body into mine. Her hands moved around, swirling my hair and pulling my face down. Our bodies became so close that there was no air

between them and I felt the heat of her pounding heart. She continued to kiss me, harder and harder, and then moaned softly as I touched my tongue to her parted lips. And then I was falling. Pain shot through my wrists as I slammed into the ground, barely avoiding smashing my face by sticking my arms out at the last second. I felt skin tear from my palms and the jolting slam of my knees into the gravelly road. “Adam? Are you okay?” “Son of a gun!” I twisted to see what had tripped me, barely changing to the inoffensive last word in time. I didn’t see anything. No roots, no large rocks, not even a bump in the road to blame for my fall. Laura was looking down at me with a look of mild concern mingled with amusement. “Those ground gremlins’ll getcha if you’re not watching,” she said and held out her hand to help me up. I hesitated but reached out and gently took her offered hand. Her skin was soft and warm. “Are you okay?” she asked. “Yeah, fine. Just a little embarrassed.” “Embarrassed about what? That your feet are so big that even you can’t get out of the way?” “Ha ha. Very funny.” Our eyes locked and I felt a jolt run down my back to the tips of my toes. Immediately, the image of us kissing popped to the forefront of my mind. I turned away, probably a bit too fast but not so fast that I missed seeing her do the same. Her phone buzzed.

“It’s, Richard,” she said hurriedly and held the phone to her ear. “Hi!” she said cheerfully. I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach. “No, no we’re almost home,” she said, her voice thick with concern. “What happened?” I stepped away from her to give her the illusion of privacy. The Dawson’s house was in view and I could see the hazy outline of Richard’s gray Subaru on the driveway. It looked like it was running, wavy lines of exhaust coming from the rear of vehicle but the half-light of evening made it hard to tell for sure. “…no, I haven’t seen my parents in four months. I’m not ready to go back yet.” I was trying to not listen but found it impossible. I just wished I could hear Richard’s side of the conversation. What did Sheriff Dawson do to make him want to leave already? “Richard, what happened? Why are you acting like this?” I wanted to turn around and look at her but didn’t dare. Whatever happened must have been pretty bad and I didn’t want to catch any of the backlash meant for Sheriff Dawson. “You did what?! Why in the world would you think…Fine. Then go!” I watched the dark little sedan tear out of the Dawson’s driveway, spitting dirt and gravel back towards the house when it hit the road. The sound of its engine carried across the still evening like a hive of angry bees. I stopped walking and waited for Laura to catch up. She charged past me with her arms crossed over her chest. Her phone was clutched so hard in her right hand I wouldn’t have been surprised if it disintegrated under her white knuckles. I held back, letting her stay several paces ahead of me. When she stormed into the house, I went back to the tool shed to wrap up what I’d

started before dinner. I heard raised voices, mostly hers, and then the slam of a door. Thirty seconds later, Sheriff Dawson was in the tool shed with me. “Mind if I hide with you ‘til the Bakers get here?” He grabbed an old plastic milk crate, flipped it over, and sat down next to me. I was sorting nuts, bolts, and screws into a line-up of rusted coffee cans and glass jars. He bent over, swept up a handful and started flicking them into the proper containers. “Why’d Richard take off so fast?” I asked after a few minutes. Sheriff Dawson let out a big sigh and slumped back against the wall. “He asked for my permission to marry Laura.” “What?” I said and jumped to my feet. “What did you say?” “What do you think?” Sheriff Dawson said while he rubbed a hand through his thin hair. “Oh, yeah,” I said and sat back down. Just the thought of Richard being Laura’s boyfriend was enough to make my stomach hurt. Married was absolutely abhorrent. The relief I felt was quickly quelled by another thought. “But Laura was so upset. You don’t think she wants too…you know, marry him?” “I doubt it. My little girl’s smarter than that,” he said and shook his head. “Then what’s she upset about if she doesn’t want to marry him” “Why don’t you go in and ask her?” he chuckled. “Thanks but I’ll leave that to your wife,” I smiled and picked up the last of the rusted bits of hardware.