Catch the Lightning Read online

  I knelt next to him, my heart racing. “Althor?”

  He didn’t answer, and my heart jumped a mile. “Can you hear me?” I asked.

  No answer.

  “Althor!”

  This time his lips moved, words I couldn’t hear.

  Relief swept over me. ¿Que, hijo?”

  “Took out the bullet,” he mumbled. “With knife.”

  That’s when I saw it, the bloodied remains of a bullet lying by his arm. I couldn’t believe he cut it out of his own body. I didn’t see how he stayed conscious. If he lost any more blood, he would be in serious trouble. Even if we could have gone to a hospital, no blood type on 1987 Earth would have been compatible with his.

  Joshua knelt next to me. “We have to get him to an emergency room. No matter what he’s done, it’s better the police catch him than he bleed to death.”

  . “We can’t.” I laid my hand on his arm. “Trust me. Please. I can’t turn to anyone else.”

  He just looked at me, until I wondered if I had pushed our friendship further than even our strong bond could stretch. Then he exhaled. “Moving him will be hard. He’s so big.”

  I squeezed his arm gratefully. “He can walk.”

  Althor opened his eyes, his shimmering inner lids glinting in the moonlight as they rolled up. “Can you—clean the wounds?” Joshua nodded. “We brought supplies,”

  I touched Althor’s forehead. Words flashed in my mind, packets from the dense flow of data along the pathways of his augmented brain. Connection established. Large coupling constant.

  Coupling. It meant mathematical intercourse, not human. Althor and I were both Kyles, which meant the wavefunctions of our brains coupled strongly, oscillating like chaotic breakers on the neural shores of our minds. Every system of particles can be described by a wavefunction, including the brain. His KEB stimulated thousands of molecular sites on my KAB, millions, even billions. Had he been a less powerful Kyle, the link he set up with me that night could have crippled him, creating massive neural discharges that led to a tonic-clonic attack, like an epileptic grand mal seizure. But Althor took it easily.

  I was there, in the midst of a struggle. He was fighting his autonomic system, his heart, lungs, intestines, glands, other internal organs, smooth muscles, blood and lymph vessels. His troops were nano-meds specialized to aid tissue repairs. He regulated blood flow, rushed nutrients where they were needed, changed chemical concentrations, all in a race to outrun the death that chased him through his evaporating consciousness. When we linked, his mind swelled back to alertness like a dry sponge expanding with water, beads of the sparkling liquid jumping into the air and raining down again.

  Mitosis. Cells dividing; prophase, metaphase, anaphase, telophase. Cells splitting: 1,2,4,8. Tissue growing. Blood vessels forming. Increase blood flow. 64,128,256. White blood cells; antibodies; infection. Send lymphocytes. Build fibrin. Clot blood. Parenchymal cells: prophase, metaphase, anaphase, telophase. 16384,32768,65536. Bleeding, stroma, bleeding, fibrosis, bleeding, bleeding…

  “Tina?”

  The voice came from far away.

  “Tina? What’s wrong?”

  I opened my eyes. Joshua was kneeling in front of me, his hands on my shoulders. “What happened to you?” he asked.

  “I was with Althor.” Why hadn’t Joshua opened his pack? It still lay closed on the cave floor. “We have to clean him up and bandage him.”

  “I did. I’ve been working for almost an hour. The two of you have been in a trance.”

  I stared at him. Then I looked at Althor. He opened his eyes and he mouthed two words: Thank you.

  As we drove through Caltech, Althor sat next to me, slumped in the backseat of the Jeep. Joshua pulled into the parking lot outside the Athenaeum, near Blacker House. The lot was empty except for a few cars, chromed beasts sleeping in the dark.

  With Joshua and me supporting him, Althor climbed out of the Jeep and limped across the lawn between the lot and the dormitories, what Joshua called the south house complex. We crossed a Spanish-style courtyard to a staircase in Blacker House. With our support, Althor slowly climbed the stairs. The whole time I was straining to hear voices or footsteps, warnings that someone was coming, a student happening on us out of the night.

  We reached the second floor without being discovered. At Joshua’s room, Althor slumped against the wall. Joshua worked the combination lock on his door, his relief making soap-bubble mists of tangerine light. We had made it.

  A door down the hall opened and Daniel stepped out.

  Joshua froze. “Hey.”

  Daniel glanced at Althor. “Josh, can I talk to you?”

  Joshua turned to me. “Take him inside.” Then he headed down the hall to Daniel.

  . Uneasy, I took Althor inside and closed the door. It was a single room, cluttered with bits and pieces of lab equipment. A bed stood against the far wall under a window with blue curtains. Shelves were on the left, crammed with books, and the right wall had a sink and cabinets built into it. A computer sat on the desk, along with a haphazard pile of books and papers. Posters of rock stars and scientists covered the walls.

  I helped Althor to the bed. As he lay down, I felt sleep drop over him like a heavy blanket cut from the night sky. I sat next to him, wondering what Joshua was doing.

  Several moments later the door opened and Joshua came in with Daniel. They both looked grim.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  Daniel closed the door, holding the knob as if to make sure he could make a fast exit. Joshua pulled a chair over to the bed and sat facing me. But his attention was on Althor.

  “Is he asleep?” Joshua asked.

  “Out cold,” I said.

  Joshua took a breath. “Daniel saw police sketches of you and Althor in this evening’s paper, down in the lounge. The police say Althor’s name is Ray Kolvich, that he broke out of San Quentin yesterday, and that he’s a PCP addict.”

  I silently swore. “They’re lying.”

  “Tina, he killed Matt Kugelmann.”

  “It was self-defense.”

  “Then why can’t you take him to a hospital?”

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

  Daniel spoke. “You better start telling if you don’t want us to call the police.”

  “You know I’ve always trusted you,” Joshua said. “But this—I don’t know what to say.”

  I pushed my hand through my hair. “You know that test plane they found this morning?”

  “I heard about it,” Joshua said.

  “Well, it’s not a plane. It’s Althor’s starship.”

  “Yeah, right,” Daniel said. “This isn’t a joke.”

  “Do you see me laughing?” I asked.

  “Is that what he told you?” Joshua asked.

  “Yes.”

  “And you believed him?”

  “For good reasons,” I said. “Besides, Josh, you saw his eyes.”

  “I saw something. But it was too dark to tell much.” Although I disliked waking Althor, our choice's were limited. I shook his shoulder, but he didn’t respond. I tried again. “Althor?”

  This time his lashes lifted, leaving a gold shimmer. As Joshua and Daniel watched, the shimmer retracted like a receding wave on a beach.

  “Cool,” Daniel said. Then he seemed to mentally shake himself. “But it proves nothing.”

  Joshua glanced at me. “You have to admit, it’s probably a birth defect.”

  Regardless of their outward resistance, I knew they must have had doubts about the news report. Otherwise, they would never have given me a chance to explain, nor would either have spoken with Althor listening. “Think about it,” I said. “How could any normal man go through what’s happened to him and still be in such good shape?”

  “I don’t know,” Joshua said. “But there must be a rational explanation.”

  An idea came to me. “I need a pair of scissors.”

  Joshua went to his desk and came back with scissors
. “What are you going to do?”

  “Watch.”

  The bandage went all the way around Althor’s body, from below his waist to his chest. I felt around on the right side above his hip. Fortunately the bullet wound was on the opposite side. When I found the dent that marked his transcom socket, I cut away a small square and prodded the skin. Nothing happened.

  Althor lifted his hand and pressed his side, fingertips pushing the skin in a circle. A membrane pulled back and the transcom slid out into his hand, leaving a small opening in his body lined with glimmering gold skin.

  Daniel leaned closer. “Hey.”

  “What is that?” Joshua said.

  Althor held the transcom in his palm and extended it toward him. “Computer.”

  As we watched, it changed from a rounded gold box to the hard-edged device with glowing squares. Then Althor brought it back to his waist. He pushed it inside the socket and it molded itself to fit, changing color to blend with his skin. The membrane slid back into place.

  “Holy shit,” Joshua said.

  “That thing must have some kind of nanotech,” Daniel said. “Something that lets it alter its composition on a molecular level.” He snapped his fingers. “It responds to a change in environment, right? Take it out of your body and that activates its transformation.”

  “That’s right,” Althor said.

  “The only way you could have a socket there is if your internal organs have been moved out of the way,” Joshua said. “And that membrane looks like it’s alive.”

  “Yes,” Althor said.

  “That kind of nanotech doesn’t exist,” Daniel said. “Neither does the medical knowledge needed to put a system like that into your body. Not that I’ve heard of.”

  I regarded them. “Now do you see?”

  Daniel blew out a gust of air. “My mother works at Yeager. She says the shuttle retrieved something called the F-29, a hypersonic test plane that malfunctioned.”

  “How would she know otherwise?” Joshua said. “Thousands of people work at Yeager. Probably only a handful saw what the shuttle brought down.”

  My hope leapt. “Daniel, could you get us onto the base?”

  He snorted. “Even if I believed your story, which I don’t, and even if I could get you a pass, which I can’t, there’s no way I would do it.”

  I wasn’t really surprised. But I knew it wasn’t an F-29 they had found. I rubbed my eyes, trying to clear my mind. “Josh, can we finish this tomorrow? We really need to sleep.”

  He nodded. “I have an extra blanket in the closet.”

  “You’re going to let them stay?” Daniel asked.

  “We can’t move him,” Joshua said. “He’ll start to bleed again.”

  “Do you know what aiding and abetting means?” Daniel said. “You let them stay, you’re committing a crime. If I don’t say anything that makes me an accessory.”

  I concentrated on Daniel, trying to feel what made him tick. Then I got up and went to him. “Just suppose Althor is telling the truth. Think about it. You’re the one who has him to yourself, a man who could answer all those questions you have about space, maybe even make your dreams about the stars come true.”

  “Don’t lay that on me,” he said.

  “You won’t ever have this chance again.”

  “You’re nuts if you believe him.”

  “You’re afraid.”

  “That’s right,” he said. “Of being thrown in jail.”

  “If you don’t tell anyone he’s here, how will they know?”

  “Just because I don’t tell anyone doesn’t mean they won’t find out.”

  I shrugged. “Tell them we forced you to help us by holding Joshua hostage.”

  Daniel glanced at him. “You know—if I said that, it could keep us from getting into trouble if someone did find out.”

  “Daniel, just give us a few days,” I said.

  He looked from me to Joshua. “You trust her?”

  “Always,” Joshua said. “With my life.”

  At first I didn’t know what he meant. Then an image came into my mind, a memory that wasn’t mine: Nug and his men, lined up with rifles. Nug shouted orders like a mock general, making them twirl their guns and aim them at me. It was eerie, because I had never experienced what I was “remembering.” Yet I could feel the cords that bound my wrists—

  Joshua inhaled and the image cut off, replaced by another. This scene I recognized: I was viewing it from the couch in Mario’s front room. All of Los Halcones was there, even Manuel. They lounged against the wall or sat in chairs, some cleaning weapons.

  Finally I understood. I was seeing Joshua’s memories. I even saw myself, Tina, talking to Mario with an ease that stunned Joshua, as if Mario were a beloved older brother instead of a gang leader. Protection. I wanted them to protect Joshua. And in the end, incredibly, they agreed to do it.

  As the, image faded, Joshua ran his hand through his hair. Although I had known he was uncomfortable that day I took him to Mario’s, I had never realized he felt he was trusting his life to me.

  Daniel was watching him closely. Joshua just shook his head.

  None of us needed special brain organs to interpret that: leave it alone.

  So instead Daniel turned to me. “You have two days to convince me. If you don’t, we go to the police.”

  Thank you, God, I thought. “Two days,” I said. “Deal.”

  5

  Jagernaut Modes

  … build new tissue cells. Increase blood flow. New blood vessels— “Wake up!”

  I tried to ignore the shaking and the voice, but neither would stop. Finally I eased out of Althor’s mind. He let go as well and sank into a true sleep.

  I opened my eyes. Joshua was kneeling over me on the bed, shaking my shoulders.

  “Josh, don’t.” My voice vibrated with his motion.

  “Thank God.” He let go of me and settled back on his heels.

  Late-afternoon sunshine slanted through the window, laying rectangles of buttery light across the bed. I sat up, squinting in the brightness. “What time is it?”

  “Almost five o’clock. I was starting to get worried. I couldn’t wake either of you up.” He motioned at his desk. “I brought you lunch hours ago.

  As soon as I saw the cafeteria tray heaped with food, my mouth watered. My next thought was that if someone my size was so hungry, Althor must be starving.

  I nudged Althor’s shoulder. "¿Puedes oúrme, León Dormido?”

  No reaction.

  I shook him gendy. With his wounds, I didn’t dare do it any harder. “Althor?”

  Still no reaction.

  “Maybe it would help if we sat him up,” Joshua said.

  “It’s worth a try.” Kneeling side by side on the bed, we pulled him into a sitting position. “Althor,” I said. “Wake up.”

  No response.

  Joshua considered him. Then he lightiy slapped his face.

  Nothing.

  Joshua slapped harder. When Althor still didn’t respond, Joshua hit him agai—

  Althor’s hand shot out and grabbed Joshua’s wrist. His outer eyelids snapped open and he shoved Joshua away, sending him flying off the end of the bed.

  “¡Hola!” I grabbed Althor’s arm. “It’s okay. We just wanted you to wake up.”

  His head swiveled to me. Gold shields covered his eyes. Then he slumped in my arms. He was too heavy to hold upright and we both fell down on the bed with a thump.

  Joshua picked himself up off the floor. “Is he awake?”

  “I’m not sure.” I got up on my knees and leaned over Althor. “Can you hear me?”

  His inner lids lifted halfway, making him look like a stoned turtle.

  “I think this is the best we’re going to get,” I said.

  “Want to try feeding him?”

  “Okay.” I had to struggle not to grab all the food for myself. Joshua smiled. “I brought enough for an army. You eat. I’ll take care of him.”

  I c
ould have kissed him. “Thanks.”

  He got the tray and set it on the bed. As he sat next to Althor’s head, I took a tortilla off the tray and held it dangling between my thumb and index finger. “What is this?”

  He picked up a glass of orange juice. “You know what that is.”

  “A big potato chip?”

  Joshua tilted the juice to Althor’s lips. “You don’t approve of our tortillas?”

  “No one makes them like my mother.” Hers had been big and soft, cooked just right on her comal, a round metal plate she propped up over the fire on two old pots and a rock. I could still see her patting the maize dough back and forth, around and around. I had loved that sound. For the first eight years of my life, I had heard it everywhere in the early mornings, every day. Now it was gone.

  I put the tortilla down and took a sandwich instead.

  When Althor didn’t respond, Joshua pushed open his mouth and dribbled juice into it. At first nothing happened. Suddenly Althor sputtered, splattering drops everywhere. As he drank, his inner lids slid down, turning his face into a mask. After he finished, Joshua took away the glass, turned back to the tray—and froze, staring at the bed.

  I stopped eating. ‘‘What’s wrong?”

  He pointed at Althor’s waist. “Look.”

  Althor had bent his arm at the elbow and lifted his hand off the bed. It did look odd, poised in the air, but I doubted that was what startled Joshua. Althor’s hand had hinged lengthwise down the center so that his middle and index fingers lay flat against his ring finger and little finger. Actually, “little” finger is wrong; the four digits were almost the same size. With his hand closed they acted like two sets of opposing thumbs, while his real thumb hung free in the air.

  His hand moved to the tray and closed around an apple. He raised it to his mouth and ate it, bite by mechanical bite. When he finished, he lowered his arm until his elbow rested on the bed. Then he unhinged his hand, making a V-shape.

  Joshua blinked. “What should we do?”

  “Maybe he’s still hungry.” I gave him another apple.

  Althor ate four apples, a bowl of squash, and some creamed corn. He wouldn’t touch the hamburger. Except for his chewing and his moving arm, he lay still the entire time, flat on his back. When he finished, he lowered his arm again and his hand relaxed open. His outer lids closed. Within seconds he was asleep. “Does he always act like that?” Joshua asked.