Chapter 1: Spark (continued)

The trip was relatively brief, and the weather was nice, so I soon arrived at the County Grounds. I made my way to a group of abandoned buildings, and locked up my bike. The area was, as it always was, kind of creepy. The buildings were built in the early 1900's as a tuberculosis hospital, and played host to a small number of assorted companies over the years, with the most recent being Gammex Incorporated, who had left the site before I moved into the area. As is usually the case with such compounds, the site had fallen into disrepair.

I walked out into one of the surrounding fields, and sat in the lotus position. I soon remembered why I don't often sit in the lotus position, and winced as I rearranged myself into a more common pretzel-legged pose, known to kindergartners everywhere. For laughs, I put my arms out to the sides, made 'o's with my thumb and index finger, and began to chant "om". I closed my eyes and pictured the psychedelic circle. I was soon floating like a proper Zen master, and when I opened my eyes, I was a good ten meters off the ground. I managed to maintain my composure, and glided around and through the complex. I uncrossed my legs and Supermanned it up, humming the classic theme while holding a fist heroically before me. It was pretty damned fun, let me tell you. I realized that it'd be a drag to ride my bike back after zipping around the skies, and had a thought. It was kind of cliche, granted, but I've always figured that cliches exist and persist for a reason. Anyway, I realized that if I had a disguise, I could zip around without revealing my secret. I still thought it odd that I was so determined to keep it secret, but after some thought, I realized that there was some wisdom to it. If nothing else, I'm really quite modest, and news vans in my driveway would become a parking nuisance. While I was entertaining these notions of man-in-a-mask-ness, I was riding home to park my bike and choose a suitable disguise. Obviously, I'd need some sort of face cover. Maybe my brother's gas mask would work. As for clothing, something relatively tight-fitting without a cape would be best for flying. I'd hate to get snagged on something. It was also at this moment that I realized that the pseudo-Spandex worn by so many comic book superheroes and superheroines really were the most practical thing. Anyway, I also realized that I'd need something akin to wrapping paper, something quick that I could put on over my normal clothing and stash just as quickly. Eventually, I settled on a blue rain poncho, an old belt, and the aforementioned gas mask. I made a mental note to swap that for a Guy Fawkes mask at my earliest convenience. (What can I say? I'm a sucker for running gags.) I put my ironically-titled 'Hero Duds' into a shoulder bag, and hopped a bus to the mall. I decided that it'd be best not to appear 'dudded' at home, so I changed in a far area of a parking structure. I walked out of the garage, took a few steps, and took off from a running start. I recall thinking that my drama major mother was rubbing off on me, as I took a lap around the building at 50 feet up. I chuckled to myself as random pedestrians stopped and stared, until some kid stopped in the middle of the road, staring intently skyward. The mall is notorious for its idiot drivers, and today was no exception. Some airhead on a cell phone was heading right for him. I took about a millisecond to process all this, before I took off like a shot. I grabbed the kid and flipped off the airhead, biting back my harsh words. I was in the presence of young ears, after all. I floated gently back to the ground, where the kid's mother was waiting. She seemed to be on the verge of exploding with relief, and she hugged her kid so tightly that I thought his head might pop off right then and there. She turned to me and asked "Who are you?". I paused for a second. It really was a good question. I had already decided to avoid busy streets and such, but I would still step in if I could make a difference. All it takes for evil to succeed is for good men to stand by and do nothing, or so I'd heard. I wasn't going to fight crime proactively or anything, but I'd need a persona for questions like this one. I also realized that a lot of crappy monikers had their origins in hasty responses. All of this flashed through my mind in the space of a thoughtful second, after which I responded "I'm just passing through", imitating Batman's 'throat cancer' voice. I then took off straight upwards and set a course for the County Grounds.

I soon landed near the old Gammex compound, and stowed my gear. I started walking to the medical complex, where I could catch a bus back to my house. Before I could get to the stop, though, a passing police car pulled up beside me and rolled down its window. Their meaning clear, I gathered my capacity for bluffing and went over to the car. The officer inside the car seemed to defy most cop stereotypes, being both non-bumbling and quite lean. The officer asked "Have you seen anything unusual recently?"

Slightly amused by his vagueness, I replied "Yes, I saw a police officer who wanted to talk to me."

Seeing his look of annoyance, I hastily appended "It's never happened before. It's unusual."

His look softened, then became pained as he asked "Have you seen a flying chemist?"

Definately amused, but really kind of feeling for the guy, I bit back a remark along the lines of "slow crime day, huh" and "Nope. Have you seen Puff the Magic Dragon lately?" and settled on what I hoped was a vaguely confused-sounding "No, can't say that I have."

It seemed to work, as the cop relaxed a bit, thanked me for my cooperation, and drove off muttering about 'hazing'. I soon caught a bus back home.

Glancing at my watch, I noted that my mum would be home from the library soon, and fixed myself some Spaghettios while queueing up a prerecorded episode of Bones. Naomi noted my arrival by glancing up sleepily, then settling back into her customary lump. True to time-honored patterns, Mum soon arrived back home. After removing her shoes, purse, et cetera, she came in to speak with me. I paused the TiVo, and asked her how her day was.

"Tiring." she responded. "We had a whole bunch of kindergartners getting library cards today."

"Oof." I said sympathetically. "Well, at least we're helping to educate the next generation, right?"

"Yeah." she agreed. "Oh, Cindy showed me an interesting YouTube today."

I gave ger a pained look, and responded with "I only know of one YouTube, the one with all the videos. Which one was this?"

"It was an internet video." she responded annoyedly. "You and your jargon."

"I strive only for accuracy." I said with mock gravity. "So what's the video? Cute kittens? Flying pigs, perhaps? Bad day to be a procrastinator."

"No pigs, sadly." she said. "Looks like the procrastinators get a break."

I chuckle, and she continues. "There is flying involved, though. Some guy down by Mayfair says he got a video of some flying guy on his cell phone."

"Pull the other one, it plays 'Hava Nagila'." I respond easily, even though I was annoyed by the reminder of my lack of foresight.

"Well, it's what the video shows, anyway." she said. "If he was trying to hoax it, though, you'd think he'd go with a better angle."

"Aiming lower helps avoid missing." I point out.

"Perhaps." she said. "Have a look for yourself. I'm sure you can find it yourself."

"That's a safe bet." I respond.

On that note, she left. I opened my laptop and keyed up a web browser, and soon was able to see the video she had mentioned, as well as dozens of others. I was ready to give myself a flogging for my stupidity, and the Duds really did look like crap. However, I did cut a rather heroic figure, and the rescue was pretty awesome, so I decided to just dope-slap myself and split the difference. I made a mental note to find a better solution for Duds in the future, though. I hate looking shabby. The remainder of the day passed uneventfully, and I was soon fatigued enough to sleep. This happened sooner than it typically does, but then, it had been a remarkably atypical day. I went up to my futon, and drifted off to sleep.

I woke up the next day on the couch in the TV room. I didn't find this odd at first, but as I gained more wakefulness, I distinctly remembered going to sleep in a distinctly different location. The other place definately wasn't so fuzzy. Soon, I recalled another lucid dream.

(cut to dream sequence)

I walk up to the same mountaintop temple as before, and the odd man was there again. He wasn't cooking soup this time, he was sitting in the center of a large circular corner. At first, I thought he was reading, but on closer approach I could see that he was playing a handheld game console. The model was unfamiliar to me, though.

"What are you playing?" I asked.

"Pokemon Ultimate." he responded. Before I could ask more, he held up a finger and turned off the system. "Ah ah. Spoilers."

"You're from the future?" I asked skeptically.

"Sort of. It's complicated. But it's good that you're skeptical. Skepticism is one of the hallmarks of a rational mind."

I sort of harrumphed at this. "This seems different than before. I feel as if I have autonomy, rather than merely dreaming. Plus, you're not quite as cryptic."

"Yes, the practice you've done with your levitational flight has strengthened your connection to this place." he explained.

"Yeah, about that." I ask. "What is this place?"

"Sorry." he said. "Spoilers."

I responded with a bemused stare that screamed "..." in best RPG style.

"I really am sorry, Wil." he continued. "But it really is for your own good."

"Ok, fine. I may not totally buy that, but I get the impression that pressing the issue would be fruitless."

"You are most perceptive." he said with a slight bow of his head.

"And you're vague as hell." I respond irritably. "How about you tell me what you can tell me?"

"Good thought. We were wise to choose you." he said.

"We?" I asked, but interrupted by raising my hand. "Right, let me guess. Spoilers."

"Quite." he said amusedly. "But as you so aptly suggested, I'll tell you what I can. When you wake up, you will have the ability to astrally project yourself through a multidimensional realm to other locations at will."

"Isn't that teleportation?" I ask.

"Yes, that's the vernacular. Plus, even though you'll be doing it for the first time ever, you'll be able to do it almost instinctively. Not like breathing, more like walking."

"Nice analogy." I say.

"Cool power." he reminds me.

"Touche." I say. "Anything else I should know before I wake up?"

"The Grass type is weak against Flying. Oh, and blue is totally not your color."

"So, no, then?" I ask annoyedly.

"Pretty much." he admits. "Just don't teleport anywhere without air."

(end dream sequence)

"Without air. Yeah, like I'd forget that." I said to myself annoyedly. I checked my watch, it was 9:20. Apparently, I had decided to sleep in. Eager to try out my teleport stuff, I changed my clothes and stepped outside onto the picnic table in my backyard. I figured something close range would make a good test, so I 'ported up to my room, where I retrieved my bag. I then 'ported into the bathroom at Walgreens. It was empty, thankfully, and I made a mental note to avoid appearing in bathrooms in the future. I then 'ported into the parking structure in Mayfair Mall. Figuring I had a handle on this teleporting thing, I decided to be a tad ambitious. I then 'ported to the National Mall, right in front of the Smithsonian Castle. Feeling the southern summer breeze on my face, my self-control cracked, and I fell to my knees with a celebratory whoop. I took a walk around the Air and Space Museum after regaining my composure, pausing at the Glamorous Glennis to gloat silently. After a quick meditation (read: nap) in front of the Lincoln Memorial, I 'ported back home. I spent a bit of time teleporting things here and there, appreciating my Nobou Uematsu recordings. After ten minutes of trying to levitate my mouse, I determined that while my teleporting was not limited to myself, the levitation most certainly was. This was a bit of a downer, but not a biggie.

As Wednesday dawned, I awoke on my futon to another lucid dream memory.

(cue dream sequence)

I'm in the Mountaintop Temple again, and the oddly odd man is there. This completely fails to surprise me, and he greets me warmly.

"Wil! How've you been? Did you enjoy Washington?"

"Saw that, did you? Yeah, it was fun." I responded.

"Heh, no doubt. Anyway, when you wake up, you will have your third and final power."

"Telekinesis?" I asked hopefully.

"Energy beams." he answered matter-of-factly.

"Heh." I said. "That's cool too."

"You can fine tune the energy output, but as with your other powers, the more ambitious you get, the more you'll exert yourself." he says.

"So I can singe the pants of as many annoying people as I want, but if I try to level too many cities, I'll wear myself out?" I ask.

"Yep!" he says. "Just remember, with great power comes great responsibility."

"Ah, the simple wisdom of Uncle Ben." I say. "What problem can't it help solve?"

"Oh, one other thing. Chaos is not your enemy, nor is it evil."

"Look out! It's the Non Sequitur Kid!" I say sarcastically.

"Cute." he says. "I'll try to explain what I can, as we won't meet again for quite some time. Your powers are not magical. Magic does exist, but it is based in the fundamental chaos of the universe. You wield Force. Before you yell at me about 'midichlorians', it's not that. It's not 'the Force, the mystical energy field that emanates from all living things and binds the universe together", it's "Force, the power of Order". It's actually kind of similar to science."

"I've never seen science do this." I say.

"Well, it stimulates the brain similarly, among other spoileriffic stuff. Basically, science and Force have their own power that is equal to that of magic. That odd synergy has actually been exploited to create a type of device called 'Magitech'." he says.

"Wow." I say.

"Yeah, it's all a bit much, isn't it? Well, that's Planar Metaphysics 101 for ya. Anything else you need before you go off and do your own thing?"

"Yeah." I say. "I'd really love to know just what the hell is going on, and what my place in it all is."

"Ah, the meaning of life." he says. "It's really quite simple. The meaning of life is"

(end dream sequence)

"That jerk." I say to myself. "He did that on purpose!"

I checked my clock, it was about 10 AM. With a smile, I realized my plans for the rest of the day. I packed some empty soda cans and a prism in my bag, and 'ported to the old Gammex compund. I set the cans along a fence, and took a few steps back.

"Okay," I say to myself. "This is such a cliche, but it should work. Here goes!"

I formed a 'gun' with my index and ring fingers, and zapped one of the cans off of the fence. I glided over, and picked up the can. It was dented, but not warm to the touch. I glided back over to where I started, and zapped another. I decided to step it up a notch, and zapped a few into the air, and played 'skeet shot'. I kicked it up another, and upped the speed. It was almost like dancing, twirling back and forth, firing beams this way and that. Taking out the prism, I tossed it into the air, and zapped it with a flourish. It refracted the beam into many, and vaporized the cans. I caught the prism, dropped to my knees, and flashed the 'peace' sign. It seemed the thing to do. As I basked in my ego trip, I spotted movement out of the corner of my eye. I turned, and called out 'hey!" The moving spot ran off, and I could tell now that it was a person. They seemed to have been startled by my noticing them, and disappeared with a rustle of leaves. I was annoyed by this, until I realized a solution. I 'ported them back. I saw that it was a girl, about my age, with brown hair. But almost as soon as this registered, she had dashed off again. We traded 'ports and dashes for a while, and I got annoyed. I 'ported herself and myself about 200 feet up, and grabbed ahold of her.

"Okay, listen." I said. "I'd hate to hurt you, but we really have to talk. If you keep squirming, I'll end up dropping you, and that'd suck. Now, if you can agree to have a conversation like civilized folk, we can go back to the hard land. Capisce?"

"Capisce." she responds, and I 'port us to the ground.

"Where are we?" she asks.

"Mackinac Island." I answer. "It's just a bit of insurance. After all, it'd be hard to run off of an island without gills. Now, here's my proposition. Tit for tat. I ask a question, you answer. You ask a question, I answer."

"I know what it means." she said.

"Oh good, that'll save time." I said. "You can go first."

"Much obliged." she says dryly. "Here's a question. Do you often bring strange girls to remote islands for conversations, or do I have the rather dubious honor of being the first?"

"You're the first." I say. "Who are you?"

"My, aren't we direct." she says. "I'm Aislin. Aislin Avari. And you are?"

"Wil Zurn." I respond. "How did you find me? Assuming that you were looking for me, which is an assumption you're free to shoot down."

"No no, I was looking for you." she said. "The answer was YouTube. I was waiting in the vicinity of the County Grounds for a while, as I figured you'd retreat to somewhere secluded after landing. The Gammex compound met that description, and the rest was patience. Now my turn, I suppose. Did you recently have a series of lucid dreams, after each of which you gained some new type of metaphysical power which you not only can now use almost instinctually, but also feel compelled to keep secret?"

"I, um, erg, ack." I stammered incoherently.

"Are you always so articulate?" she says teasingly. "Anyway, I'll take that as a 'Yes, however did you know that?'. I didn't, not until I saw your reaction. I suspected it because the same thing happened to me."

"Oh really?" I asked.

"Yes, but at least I had the good sense to be discreet at first." she said, still teasingly.

"Hey, if I get superpowers, I'm damned well gonna show off a little!" I say, semi-defensively. "Anyway, where are you from? The least I can do is drop you off there."

"I'm from Wauwatosa. It's a suburb of Milwaukee. But I'm going to decline your offer. I can get myself home."

Seeing my puzzled look, she winks mischeivously, and takes off at incredible speeds to the beach and directly over the water, heading west.

"So." I say to no one in particular. "I guess islands don't really work that well as insurance."

And with that observation, I 'ported myself home.

END CHAPTER I