Chapter 10

High above Westwood, the Praesidium craft remained cloaked, monitoring Dylan. “Alaris!” Orion’s computer-generated voice rang like an alarm. “Perimeter detection breach. Two negative energy signatures moving toward the Scion. Shall we move to engage?”

“Enlarge the screen.” The area maps grew into live holograms as Orion zoomed in. “Those are definitely void energy signatures. It’s still daylight, so they‘ll be a bit slower trying to keep to the shadows.”

Orion, the Signa class artificial intelligence spacecraft, was designed for inter-galactic navigation, but also had the ability to calculate situations and adapt to the thought patterns of the Praesidium. This ability to reason resulted in the Signas developing not only a personality, but a form of emotions as well. For better or worse. “The E-sig moving closer.”

“Orion, take position over the Scion and continue to monitor. And make sure Beetlebee is ready to go.”

“Must I?” Orion said, sounding as irritated as artificial intelligence could.

“He’s been in hibernation the entire trip… at your request.”

“He didn’t switch your voice program off for two full days, did he?”

“I hardly noticed.” Alaris teased. “Besides, he promised not to do it again.”

“You told him to do it, didn’t you?”

“Well, if you would quit prattling on,” Alaris mumbled.

“What did you say?” Orion asked, the ship’s lights flickering. “A Signa can detect sub-audio levels on over a hundred thousand frequencies of-”

“Thank you, Orion, I’m aware of your over sensitive… I mean sensory capabilities.”

“At least I don’t have gas.”

“Alright, so tell me these great ideas.” Dylan tossed his books on his desk and rubbed his arms, hoping to stop the ever-present tingling.

Norm clapped his hands together. “Well, you told me you made some kind of energy blast and decked the black thing. If you have some new power, maybe you should, I don’t know… use it?”

“My hand was glowing when I hit it.” Dylan admitted. “But it totally wiped me out. I couldn’t even walk.”

“But it’s all we got.” Norm shrugged.

“What if they can only find me when I use it and it leads them to me?” Dylan plopped on his bed.

“Would you rather sit around and wait? I mean, Dylan, sometimes you just gotta jump in there, dude.”

“Jump in there? Jump in there! I don’t wanna jump in there! I want to get as far away as possible! I’m not a fighter.” Dylan dropped his head into his hands in frustration. “I don’t know what I am.”

Norm sighed, wiping his glasses on his shirt. “So yeah, I’ve known you my whole life and never saw you start a real fight. But let me tell you, man… you stood up to Bakowski today. That took guts.”

“I did, didn’t I?” Dylan looked up, somewhat encouraged.

“You did.” Norm tilted back in the computer chair, propping his feet on the desk. “Look, if you don’t want to use the power, let’s do something else.”

Dylan fell back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. “What else is there, Norm?”

“What about your leg?”

“What about my leg?” Dylan asked, pulling his forearm over his eyes.

“You said you cut it, but then it was fine when you showed it to me.” Norm peered over the top of his glasses.

“That’s right!” Dylan snapped to attention, wide-eyed. “It didn’t even leave a mark.”

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“Soooo…” Norm’s eyes darted curiously behind his lenses.

Dylan knew the look all too well. “Norm, what’re you thinking? Norm?” Norm rifled through his backpack and pulled out a Swiss Army knife.

“Dude, what are you doing with that knife?” Dylan scooted across the bed, a nervous look growing on his face as Norm moved toward him. “What are -oh no. No way! You’re not gonna cut me! No way!” Dylan sprang across the room and tucked himself into the corner.

“You’re right. I’m not gonna cut you,” Norm said, sporting an impish grin. “You are.” Norm extended the longest blade and handed it to Dylan.

“I can’t, I-” Dylan hesitantly took the blade. “I can’t even deal with shots!”

Norm raised his hand calmly. “Listen, you just gotta break the skin. I saw this movie where this guy could -”

“This isn’t a movie, Norm! It’s gonna hurt and I’m gonna bleed!” Dylan tried to give the knife back.

“Dude,” Norm snapped, his hand up, refusing to take the handle, “you got attacked by some freaky hell beast and you’re afraid of a little baby, Swiss Army knife?”

Dylan allowed a moment for his emotions to settle. “Alright, alright.” He took a breath, pressing the blade across the back of his forearm. Norm grinned, the anticipation erupting from his face. Dylan looked away and pulled the blade, grimacing as the sharpened steel slid across his flesh. They inspected his skin for blood, hoping to witness his miraculous healing power.

Norm looked up. “You’re gonna have to break the skin.”

Dylan surveyed his arm for any sign of a cut. “Damn it!” He pressed the blade hard into his arm and gave one quick pull. The blood rushed forth from the open wound, deeper than he had meant to go.

“Now we’re talkin’!” Norm nodded, excited by the crimson fluid flowing from the gash. “Looks like pomegranate juice.”

“Pomegranate juice?” Dylan asked, wincing at the sight of his blood. “You drink that stuff?”

“Nan turned me onto it.”

Dylan scoffed. “She give you her prune juice, too?”

“Couple times.” Norm shrugged.

“Let’s go get a bandage before I bleed on the floor.” In the bathroom, he held his forearm under the stream from the faucet, washing the blood away. Dylan raised his dripping wet arm.

“Holy crap!” Norm blurted, his mouth hanging open.

Dylan rolled his arm, checking for any sign of the gash. “No way.” Without hesitation, he sliced his arm again, deeper.

“Ow, man,” Norm said, wincing. “That one hurt me.”

“This is crazy,” Dylan whispered in disbelief, the pain already dissipating. He rinsed the wound under the running water, his skin healing before their eyes.

Norm’s look of shock stretched into a smile. “So maybe the black things can’t hurt you either.”

Dylan shook his head. “The black thing almost sucked the life out of me.”

Norm wrung his hands like a plotting mad scientist. “So, you wanna try to use your power?”

Dylan took a deep breath, more confident something positive would happen. “I guess so. But where?”

“The attic.” They stumbled over each other, heading up the narrow stairs to the third floor.

“I remember seeing these years ago when we were playing hide and seek.” Norm picked up a slab of granite tile. “See if you can break it!”

“I’ll try,” Dylan shrugged.

Norm held the square piece of the tile with both hands and braced himself. “Hit it. But don’t kill me.”

Dylan stared at the tile for a few seconds, gathering his focus, concentrating on his target. He stared down at his fist, psyching himself up. Norm winced with anticipation as Dylan fired his fist into the slab of granite.

“Ow!” Dylan cradled his arm, wincing. “I think- I broke my hand!”

Norm lowered the tile, trying not to laugh. “Okay, so then this is the broken bone test, right?”

“You really suck sometimes. How about I drop one on your head?”

“Seriously.” Norm straightened himself up. “Is it broken?”

“I left my X-ray machine in my other backpack.”

“Can you X-ray it with your eyes?”

“Norm!”

“Sorry.” Norm couldn’t help but giggle. “What do you think went wrong?”

“The only thing I can think of is, maybe I have to be in danger or something.”

Norm’s eyes darted, conjuring an idea. “What if I swung a bat at you?”

“Look, I’ve had enough pain,” Dylan said, shaking his head. “Can we think of something non-painful?”

“You could jump out of a tree and see if you can fly.” Norm knew he was reaching.

“Alright, now you’re just being ridiculous.” Dylan’s eyes flashed. “Wait-a-minute! The tree!”

“The one we never found? What about it?” Norm asked, perplexed by his excitement.

“I saw the tree in my dream before the thing attacked me.”

“I’m not following you.”

Dylan pointed confidently. “Get the tile.”

“Okay, what for? By the way, how’s your hand?”

Dylan made a fist easily and grinned. “Perfect. Hold it a little higher.”

Norm lifted the tile, bracing himself. Dylan closed his eyes, searching his mind, a field of nothing. He focused, trying to conjure the tree. Still nothing.

“My arms are getting tired,” Norm said, shaking a little.

“Shh!” Dylan pulled back, hesitating, then relaxed again, breathing. A pinprick of light appeared far away in his mindscape. The light grew larger, glowed brighter, a blue-white fire. A surge of warmth coursed through him, flames engulfing its silhouette.

Dylan opened his eyes and let his fist fly. A burst of electricity fried the air, followed by a crack and a thud. Norm lay motionless against the wall, holding two broken pieces of the tile, a cloud of granite dust settling on him.

“Dude-koff-that was… awesome!” Norm said, sitting up.

Dylan wobbled and wavered, the world turning dark around him. “It was-” His eyes fluttered before he fell onto the floor.

“Crap!”

“What’s all that racket up there?” Nan yelled up the stairs.

“Double crap!” Norm said, looking at the pieces of shattered granite. “Nothing, Nan! We’re just moving some stuff around.”

“Well, be careful! Sounds like a herd of elephants running around up there! By the way, dinner is in five minutes, so get washed up.”

“Be right down.” Norm rolled his friend over, blood dripping down Dylan’s nose. “Alright dude, you heard the lady. Let’s get you cleaned up for dinner. Because I, for one, am ready for some chicken parm.”