Chapter Twelve
New Quantum
Trained eyes flick across the control board checking and re-checking the co-ordinates which have been entered for the Earth. After minutes of intense work, Zev finds that everything is as it should be for his journey.
The smallish ship carefully enters the massive energy column of the Quantum Energy Collector/Transmitter and is quickly engulfed within its flowing, orange/red column of energy. Fractions of a second later Zev is slammed into his seat as his ship's sickening race toward the Plain begins -- seconds later the massive force upon his body ceases as quickly as it had begun. The calm of a hot, windless ocean returns to his ship.
A quick check of the sensors indicates what he already knows -- his ship is floating motionless within the Plain's energy matrix. Several light taps upon the "touch" buttons on his ship's navigational console bring his ship to its correct heading and its drive engines on line.
Whoosh!!
In short order his ship is racing through the Plain at velocities many times greater than that of the speed of light. If his calculations are correct, and he believes with certainty that they are, he will arrive at his destination within the week.
During his journey his waking hours are spent in study -- his trusty QI helping him absorb what little information is available about the world which he shall soon call home. He can only hope that what is available is enough to help him begin his assimilation into that world's alien culture.
His destination: a nation state known as America. And within that state is a population center known as Neon City. It is there that he shall make his home.
A massive yawn escapes Zev's lips as his eyes slowly open -- they roll to his left. The symbols upon the cabin monitor confirm that he is no more than thirty minutes away from Plain exit. After weighing his two options for Plain exit he decides to save the energy which has been stored onboard. The rift shall be the exit of choice this day.
POP/FIZZZZZZZZZZZ! The tiny ship whirls madly out of control. Riiiiiiiip/SNAP!!Zev catches a fleeting glimpse of his ship's two energy sails -- ripped from their moorings by the massive centrifugal force gripping his small ship.
SCREEEEEEECH!! "What's happened?" GROAN!!
"Scans indicate that the primary and all reserve stabilization circuits have been destroyed. I detect minute traces of Nagaline within the burned out circuits. I should have detec," ...
"SABOTAGE!?"
"It would appear so," replies QI calmly. "I am afraid that without those circuits we shall be swept out of control into the rift. You have very little time, Zev. Remember, concentration is the key to controlling you powers."
Shaking fingers tear their way into the arm rests of the cabin's single chair -- massive shock and fear overwhelming a young, untested mind -- panic ensues. He pays scant attention to what his QI says; for his face is pale with fright -- his head violently snapped first left and then right as the cabin disintegrates about him.
"Concentrate," QI yells -- his voice at last cutting through the fog of fear clouding Zev's mind.
"How am I supposed to do that!!!!? This .... things outta control -- breaking up!!!!!"
VIOLENT SHAKE, BANG, SHAKE. "And ..." BOOM, BANG, CRUNCH. "And we're about to enter the rift!! And you want me to concentrate!!! Are you nu..,"BOOM!!
"Remember you train ..." QI's final urging is lost in the horrific sounds of the small ship's death --- SCREEEEEEEEEEE RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIP BOOM! KRUNCH! KATHOOMMMMM!!
Remnants of the tiny ship twist, turn and flip their way through the darkness -- hurtling at last into the swirling vortex where Plain meets normal space -- Seconds later a glowing ball of metal emerges -- Chunks of flairing, burning metal rocketing outward -- ripped away by the rushing ether. The raging howl of the atmosphere increases to ear deafening levels -- its ripping friction heating the air within the cabin to intolerable levels. Zev's panic -- overwhelming -- his young mind completely useless.
Searing pain, the likes of which he has never experienced before, envelops burning flesh and lungs. Within what is left of his disintegrating ship he frantically gasps for cold air -- he finds none. Vision blurs -- spots flash and swim before closing eyes -- his time within this existence nearing its end.
Rough, violent coughing interrupts his labored and ragged breathing. As his consciousness ebbs he knows that he is about to die -- and that truly angers him; for he hasn't even had a ch--an--ccccc ..... With mere seconds of life remaining and darkness rapidly overtaking him the blurry image of the ejection button flickers into view.
A weak, shaking push -- Nothing. Gathering what little strength he has left, he presses once again.
Noth.....
Kaboom -- The smallest of explosions frees Zev of the inferno that was his ship.
The wonderful caress of ice cold air envelops his burned lungs and skin. It feels soooooooo good -- if he could just stay up here forever he is certain that he would never complain. But gravity and the wind ripping its way past his burned body quickly remind his pain dulled mind that his wish is just that.
As he tumbles planetward two undisputable facts emerge. Firstly; his decent pack is no more -- completely burned away before he had left his ship. And secondly; the ground is rushing upwards faster than he thought possible.
"Concentrate, Zev," comes the frantic urgings of his QI.
"Concentrate?.....on.....what," Zev mumbles/asks. But even as his race toward the surface continues, Zev slowly begins to remember that his concentration is indeed the key. But the key to what," his foggy mind wonders.
The spinning, on rushing ground looms close now. In a flash Zev's pain filled mind remembers. Defensive shields flicker weakly to life as he slams headlong into the ground at one hundred and forty mph.
The good doctor sits quietly upon her porch sipping one of several late evening drinks whilst enjoying the strange, on-going light show taking place within the sky just to the north of her. Generally a glowing, calm, pink/lavender; the hole within the sky has changed markedly this evening; for it is literally ablaze with brilliant, streaking, colored flashes and sparks.
After watching the display for some minutes she is astounded to see a fireball of sorts suddenly appear -- streaking, or so it would appear, directly toward her.
Seconds later-- Kathoom. -- A muffled crash echoes weakly through the surrounding countryside.
The naturally curious Doctor is quite intrigued by what she has just seen and heard. And despite her mind desperately wishing to investigate the crash site, her body has its own ideas; for the long day which started early at the hospital and ended with numerous drinks have taken their toll upon her this evening. With a major yawn she opts to put her curiosity on hold for a few days. She heads inside for some much needed sleep.
Pleasant Town, a small ski, hunting, and generally restful community, has a small paramedic unit with but a single doctor, Anna Lewis. When she is in residence, there is usually a crowd waiting to see her. And this stay at the office proves to be no different than all of her other times there. She estimates that it will most likely be at least four days before she'll have the time to investigate the crash site .....
Zev lay unconscious for three days -- fortunate that his massive burns and vicious impact upon this alien world hadn't driven the life from his young body. But he had been lucky this day; for the slight flicker of his shields had been enough to save his life.
Eyes flicker open as consciousness slowly returns. Young ears are greeted by the the strange sounds of airborn creatures pearched high in the tree tops. The planet's star has just scaled the surrounding mountains -- its streaks of early morning light dancing their way through the dense fog covering Pleasant Lake.
He knows nothing save that his body is wracked by excruciating pain. Barely managing to raise his mud caked head above the charred ground he takes a blurry, painful look at himself and the alien landscape which surrounds him ...... Blackness .....splat
Once again eyes flicker open to the alien world about them. The time -- Friday noon -- give or take an hour or two. This time the young man feels a bit better and is able, with great effort, to sit upright. A slow, painful inspection of his body confirms that he has been badly burned -- the why and how of it escaping him.
Seconds later he realizes that he remembers absolutely nothing. He assumes that there must have been a fire at some point -- destroying his clothing; for at the present time he has none on. What he couldn't reason out was that if he had been in enough heat to burn his clothing off why wasn't he having more difficulty breathing -- why wasn't his skin, which appeared red all over and even dark red in a few, isolated areas, in worse shape than it was? He gently runs his fingers through his burned hair -- it too seemed to be making a rather rapid recovery.
"How are you doing this fine morning, Zev," comes a Cheery question from deep within the alien's mind. Despite his pain and lack of memory he realizes that a voice within his mind just shouldn't be.
"Zev, can you understand me," comes the ghostly voice once again.
"This is not good," moans the confused and hurting young man. "Here I am; alone in the middle of;" Zev allows his eyes to slowly sweep across the alien landscape about him, "I don't know where -- with nothing on. And for the life of me I can't remember who I am. And now I hear someone in my head talking to me. Is this great or what?" He gently rubs his face and hair in a vain hope that that might jog his memory – it doesn't.
"Your name is Zev Stal," says the disembodied voice once again.
Zev grabs his head. "Who is that," he all but shouts. "I must be outta my mind," he thinks with a slow shake of his head. "There's no one around. And there's no way that I should be hearing this. Man-o-man, am I in big trouble -- I need help." Once again his eyes slowly sweep over the isolated, alien landscape about him. The call of a soaring, feathered creature momentarily draws his attention skyward.
"But where do I go," he asks himself. As he slowly looks at the terrain about him once more, a terrible feeling of aloneness, bordering on panic fills him. "What if I'm the only one on this world," he desperately wonders.
The rhymic, hollow ticking of the wall clock draws her attention -- "Two o'clock," she says matter-of-factly. A slow Friday has finally come to a close -- Dr. Anna Lewis has at last seen all of her patients for the week.
Throughout the day the events of the past Monday evening have run through her mind time and again. Another quick glance at the waiting room confirms that she is indeed alone. Thirty minutes later -- her clean up done -- she locks up and heads out for the ten minute drive to her ranch.
Ever since she had taken possession of the ranch after her Father's death, she had loved the huge, multifunction place. On the one hand it was a real, working ranch with cattle and horses in the pastures scattered about the countryside. It was also a dude ranch for people from the nearby city. A stay at the ranch, no matter how long, seemed to allow her guests to forget their everyday worries and simply concentrate on helping to run the place -- something which she welcomed.
If one wasn't interested in the nitty gritty of running the ranch they could opt for some very pleasent vacation time there instead. Stays at the ranch could vary from as little as two days to as long as a month, depending on your liking and pocketbook. When snow season arrived her guests used the place as a motel of sorts where they would be shuttled to and from the nearby ski slopes. As the seasons changed fishermen and hunters would replace the skiers; using the ranch as a sort of base camp -- venturing into the nearby Colossus Mountains when and where it suited their fancy. As busy as the place stayed, she found its activity, even the mundane things such as ordering supplies, quite relaxing.
This particular afternoon her drive back to the ranch seems to take longer than usual; for her excitement at finally being able to go exploring is almost overpowering. She had originally planned to take her favorite horse, Rocky, to explore and hopefully find the site of the crash. In calmer, safer days she really loved riding the old fellow through the nearby hills -- but these days were anything but normal. By the time that she arrives home she has changed her mind. She opts to take one of the small, four wheelers outfitted with a trailer just in case she finds something interesting. Sadly nowadays she always carries her hunting rifle with her; for the murders which are occuring with startling regularity have everyone one on edge.
Jackson Hole, her foreman -- believe it or not that really is his name -- grew up in Jackson Hole Wyoming. As he matured in that town he found that he loved it so much that he had had his name changed to reflect that love -- at least that's his story -- for all anyone really knew his original name could have been Sage Finklestein. Anywho, he swore up and down that his love of the place was the only reason that he had taken it as his name. He was and had been Anna Lewis' foreman seemingly forever.
Given the events surrounding these days he insisted that she carry her rifle along with plenty of spare ammo whenever she was at the ranch. Despite her friend's insistence; after hearing what had happened to some of the roving patrols down in Neon, she doubts that even it would do her much good -- she longs for the good ol days when a ride in the forest was an enjoyable, relaxing day, not a terror filled one.
After a brief call she finds that Jackson has everything ready by the time that she arrives home. Given the events which are unfolding all about the area she has no desire to be out after dark -- she changes and exits her house in record time.
After a quick radio check she roars off towards the vicinity of the crash site. Two, bone jarring miles later she tops a small hill -- her ATV skiding to a grinding halt; for she had indeed found what she is looking for.
Her eyes slowly sweep across an area of blackened Earth covering perhaps fifty to one hundred yards on the lake's Eastern side. "Hmm," she quietly muses, "it must not have been a very large object."
The contemplations of the good Doctor cease as her startled eyes narrow; for just outside of the blackened area, not more than a hundred yards away, sits a man; and from all indications, a naked one at that.
The stranger seems to be unaware of her presence; for he sits quietly staring at the lake -- his chin resting on a loosly made fist.
Her thumb finds the safety -- Quiet click -- A careful look through her binoculars reveal that he was indeed naked as a jaybird. But his skin looked rather strange -- burned perhaps. "Maybe this poor fellow was in the wrong place at the wrong time and just got too close to the crash. But.....if this is the result of what I saw Monday -- then that young man could have been out here for the past four days," she thinks.
The sound of a small engine approaching draws Zev's attention. He winces from the pain as he glances over his shoulder. His eyes confirming what his ears had told him -- he no longer fears that he is alone upon this world.
From all appearances it looks as if a female is driving some sort of small vehicle down the hill behind him. He concludes that what she carries with her must be some sort of a weapon.
"You are correct, Zev. She is indeed carrying a weapon," comes the disembodied voice again.
Grabbing his head with both hands he pulls it toward his chest. "No, no, No," he exclaims.
"There goes that voice again. I wish that I knew what was happening -- that I could remember something -- anything," he thinks.
The stranger grabs his head. NO!
Anna gasps -- halting her advance. "What the .." she wonders. Several deep, measured breaths calm her frazzled nerves. She begins to slowly advance once more -- her rifle leveled directly between the man's shoulder blades.
From the look of things she believes that he is in his early twenties and has indeed been burned. She concludes that either his skin had been healing for some considerable time; or that he had not been burned as badly as she had originally thought.
"It looks as if you could use some help," she cautiously says. "I'm a doctor. My name is Anna Lewis."
The young man sits quietly, his head resting upon his fist.
Fearing that his hearing might have been damaged by the fire Anna tries to communicate once more. "Can you hear me," she asks a bit louder.
"I don't understand where they're coming from," the stranger says flatly.
"Where who are coming from?" --Pause. -- "I said, where who are coming from?"
The young man slowly lifts his head, turning it slightly to his left -- still unable to actually see the person behind him -- Shooting pain -- enough effort for now.
A thick, muscular finger half heartedly jabs against the stranger's singed hair. "The voices that I keep hearing in here," he quietly says. "I just don't understand where they're coming from," he continues, his voice tinged with the slightest bit of desperation. "You and I are the only two people here -- and yet I keep hearing a third voice in here," he gently taps his head once again.
Anna cautiously backs toward her trailer and removes a blanket. An easy toss splatters the large piece of cloth across the man's shoulders. "Here, wrap yourself in this. It's still a little cool around here at this time of the year."
"Cool? I suppose so," the man says flatly. "I thank you." With shaking hands Zev wraps himself in the blanket. His attempt to stand fails; for he quickly finds himself seated upon "his" rock once again.
Instead of rushing to his aid, which is her instinct, Anna opts instead to quietly study the stranger for a short time ----- "Besides the voices, how do you feel physically?"
"A little better than I did -- but I'm still hurting badly."
Anna nods. "Given your appearence, I can understand why. Do you remember anything about what happened to you," she asks with the slightests of tilts to her head.
The stranger slowly shakes his head -- the mans closed eyes and expression indicitive of pain. "I honestly .. have no idea. Everything's pretty much a blank," he says, his voice carrying the pain which he feels.
Anna momentarily pauses as her nature wise eyes and ears sweep the surrounding landscape -- everything looked and sounded normal enough. She begins to cautiously circle the stranger, her well trained eyes giving him a cursory exam.
The mystery which surrounds the man only deepens when she sees the badly bruised right side of his face. Was it recovering? Yes; just as his burns were; but she concludes that only a great deal of force could have caused the damage which she is observing. And his nose – why was it not broken as it apparently had been at some time in the past. And his teeth, they all seemed to be intact. Why were none of them missing? She is at last forced to shake her head in frustration; for there were just too many questions about this man -- and no apparent answers.
"It looks as if you've suffered a pretty nasty impact on the right side of your face. I suppose," she thoughtfully tilts her head slightly to the left, "that a force of that magnitude could possibly be the reason behind your memory loss," Anna quietly/thoughtfully says.
"You were badly injured, Zev," -- the unwanted voice once again driving the stranger's hands to his head.
Startled by the unexpected movement Anna reels backwards, instively leveling her rifle at the stranger.
"I'm sorry," says the man quietly. "I didn't mean to alarm you. I suppose getting hit on my head could explain my memory loss; but what about this voice that I keep hearing?"
Anna briefly closes her eyes and sighs in relief. "That's ok," she says in the calmest of voices. "You did give me quite a scare." She smiles. "As far as the voice is concerned, I'm afraid that that's a little out of my field. We'd need to perform some tests ...."
"No tests," snaps the stranger with lowered face. "Didn't you say that you were a doctor," he asks, his upturned eyes "glaring" at Anna from under his eyebrows.
"Yes, but I ....."
The stranger slowly raises his head. "Then you'll have to do." Zev has no idea why he had said that -- perhaps some buried memory warning him that it would be best for him if only this woman treated him. "I only wish you to treat me," he quickly continues.
"But ..."
"There is no argument in this matter, Doctor," Zev quietly says.
Anna nods -- the quiet insistence by the stranger unmistakeable. "Alright then, if that's your wish, I'll do my best. But I must tell you that you'd be better off with a specialist."
"You'll do," replies Zev quietly.
Anna hesitates -- and wonders. "What are the odds?" After careful consideration she decides that most likely this is not the one responsible for all of the killing -- at least she hopes not; for she lowers her rifle and helps the young man to his feet and onto the trailer.
"Wait" he all but exclaims. "There's something over there that I must have," -- his shaky finger pointing toward a dull, half buried, silvery object lying within a nearby, blackened area.
Anna's gaze shifts from the young man to the object and then back again. "How did you know that that was there," she asks -- the tone of her voice revealing the many questions which run through her mind.
The young man weakly shakes his head. "I just know," he quietly says with a shrug.
After carefully nudging the object with her rifle Anna cautiously picks up the remarkably light, two foot square object and places it gently into the trailer. The stranger immediately gathers the object close to his chest as if it the most valuable thing he could possess.
Nightfall is near -- the gathering gloom proves it -- Doctor Lewis views the growing darkness as one would the approach of a hungry predator -- she guns the ATV and heads back toward the ranch.
"Are you still hearing those voices," she yells over her shoulder.
"I am indeed."
"Does the voice seem to make any kind of sense?"
"It seems to be trying to tell me ... things."
"Really," -- the curiosity within the good doctor's voice apparent. "What sort of things," Anna asks as she brings the ATV to a grinding halt.
"Back there; close to; I believe that you call the body of water, a lake."
"Who doesn't know what a lakes called," wonders Anna.
" When I saw you heading towards me, I thought that you might be carrying some sort of a weapon. The voice told me that I was correct. Then it told me that I had been injured. And for some reason;" - slow shake of the head- "it keeps calling me Zev," he says with a shrug.
Anna nods with the slightest of smiles. "It looks as if that voice of yours has been correct so far. I am carrying a weapon. And your appearance leads me to conclude that you have suffered some recent injuries. Does the name Zev mean anything to you," she hopefully asks.
"Not really," the stranger says flatly with a slow shake of his head. "I'm afraid that my mind seems to be a complete blank."
"The good Doctor is correct," interjects the stranger's disembodied voice. "Your name is Zev Stal. Your memory loss is indeed due to your injuries."
Zev grabs his head as if in pain. "Arrrrrrrrrrrrgh," he screams -- his voice echoing loudly across the nearby lake. Dr. Lewis unsuccessfully attempts to cover her ears against the verbal assult. Seconds later she gently massages them in hopes that they will return to normal in the near future. But even with her auditory pain she concludes that what she has just heard more or less fits a body which looks as if it could stop a tank.
"Listen to me,"she quietly says. "Please try not to do that again," she begs -- "it really hurt my ears. Ok?"
"I'm sorry," apologizes the man quietly. "It's that voice again."
"Really," says Anna as she worked her jaw this way and that in an effort to try and aleviate the pain within her ears. "And what did it say to you this time?"
"It called me Zev and said that you were right about my injuries -- that they were the reason that I couldn't remember anything."
"I would agree with that voice," Anna says with a nod. "The burns and trauma which you sustained appear to be quite severe. And in my opinion the most likely cause of your memory loss is the trauma which your head sustained." She nods ever so slightly. "Yes, the trauma would be my guess," she says softly -- almost to herself.
"All that I am certain of is that I have pain everywhere -- just not quite as badly as yesterday."
Anna smiles sympathetically and gives the stranger a gentle pat on his massive shoulder. "Try not to worry, as soon as we get back to the ranch I'll take a closer look at you. My house is just over the next hill so it won't be long," she says as the sound of a distant owl filters through the now darkend forest. Her spine tingles as her eyes sweep across the nearby darkened shapes -- she guns the ATV.
Ten minutes later the sound of crunching gravel signals their arrival at the ranch. The front door flies open as Anna's long time friend bolts from the house.
"Can you get him into one of the guest rooms, Jackson?"
"No problem," says the older man as he throws one of the stranger's massive arms over his shoulder. "I'll have him in there in a minute -- or two."
"Maybe three," says Anna with a smile. "I'll be in as soon as I put this in the barn."
By the time that she enters her guest's room he has already crawled under the covers and is fast asleep.
"Who's the guy," asks Jackson quietly with a nod toward the unseen man.
Anna slowly shakes her head. "I have no idea, Jackson."
"He looks awful beat up. I guess ya got no idea what happened to him either, huh?"
"Not a clue," Anna replies with a mystified shake of her head. "Do you remember that fireball last Monday night?"
"Yeah, if memory serves. Seems like I heard somethin last Monday evenin; and I was gonna go check on it too. But with all the work and other stuff goin on around here I just never quite made it."
"Well," she says with an apologetic tilt of her head, "I couldn't make it either; until today. I just wish that I could have gotten out there sooner," she continues with a sad look toward the stranger's door. "Anyway, when I arrived at the lake I found maybe fifty to one hundred yards of charred ground. I can only assume that something must've crashed there."
"No wreckage," asks the puzzled older man.
Anna shakes her head. "Nothing."
"Now that's down right strange," replies the older man. "You'd think there should've been something," he quietly says. "Where'd ya find him?"
"Just outside of the burned area – with nothing on," she says with a nod.
"Huh. Not a stitch?"
"Nothing." Anna says with a slow shake of her head.
"Now that's pretty damn odd, Doc. But I'll tell ya; whatever crashed over there sure didn't make an awful lot of noise either. And that's pretty strange too."
"I agree," says Anna with a nod as she crosses her arms. "We living in some strange times, Jackson."
"You can say that again, Doc."
"We're living in some strange times, Jackson," Anna's smile disappears almost as soon as it had appeared. "First that hole up in the sky appears. Then those rumors about some sort of a new, international, crime syndicate start flying around. And its supposed to be based in Neon City no less. And all of those horrible murders," she sadly shakes her head. "And not even the Feds seem to be able to do anything about them. And now I find some naked man, from who knows where, just sitting out by the lake. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe that all of this started about three years ago when that rift first appeared up in the sky."
"No, you're dead on, Doc. Ya think it could all tie in together somehow?"
"I have no idea," Anna replies with a shake of her head born out of complete exasperation. "It could all be a coincidence, but then again....."
"Doc Lewis," exclaims the horrified ranch hand. "I think you're gonna need to take a look at this," he exclaims as he fights to keep his stomach and emotions under control.
"Buford, what's wrong," asks a shaken Anna.
"I think they found -- Thomas n Wilborn," he says quietly. "What do you mean you think, Buford? You've known them both for the past five years," she says -- her voice betraying her growing unease.
"Yes Ma'am, I did. It's just that," the older man slowly shakes his head as he begins to cry. "It's just that I ain't never seen anything like this before." He continues as he tries in vain to stem the flow of his tears. "They're -- all ripped apart -- horses too, Ma'am."
"There are plenty of big predators in this area, Buford," Anna softly says. "Perhaps they were attached by a bear .. or maybe a big cat," Anna hopefully says.
"I ah, I don't think so, Doc Lewis," says Buford quietly. Sniff. "I hate to say it but it kinda looks like whatever's been agoin on down in Neon got em both."
The possibility that the killer of all those people down in the city may now be operating close to home sends cold chills down Anna's spine.
"The Sheriff wants you to git into town as soon as possible to try and identify em -- if you can, Ma'am."
"Did he give you some sort of a time frame?"
"He ain't sure. But he thinks maybe sometime this past week."
"That's when they were out checking some of our distant fences," Jackson quietly interjects.
Anna sadly nods -- her face the color of ash. "Alright, I'll see to it," she quietly says. "Oh and Buford, I don't want anyone else out in the woods for a while. Understand?"
"But the fences....."
"They can wait until we know for certain what's going on out there," Anna replies -- her eyes drifting toward the darkend shadows of the nearby forest.
"Yes Ma'am; I'll tell everyone." Buford turns and slowly walks away.
"I feel for him, Doc. He was real close to them fellers."
"I know," says Anna quietly.
"What about the guy in yonder," Jackson asks with a jab of his thumb toward the guest room. "Ya think that he had anything to do with it?"
"Of course can't say for certain." Sigh. "But I just don't see how that would be possible. You saw how he looks, Jackson. And on top of that he says that he's hearing voices. No," Anna says with a shake of her head. "Whoever did this would have had to have been a little more agile than our friend in there."
"Makes sense," Jackson says with a nod. "So, when're ya gonna take a look at him?"
"I'll examine him after he's had a good night's rest." With a heavy heart Anna turns toward the front door.
Jackson gently grabs his friend's left shoulder. "I don't like you goin out after dark by yourself. Do ya want me to ride with you," he worriedly asks.
"No," she says with a pat on the back of her friend's hand. "I'll take my rifle and some spare ammo. I should be back in two or three hours."
Against his better judgment Jackson grudgingly agrees.
Chapter Thirteen
Three days later. Monday morning.
A gentle knock or two upon a closed door accompanies the sounds of early morning birds.
Eyes slowly open -- massive yawn. "Yes," comes the sleepy reply.
"Is it alright for me to open the door?"
"It is," quietly replies the stranger.
Quiet, squeaking kareeeeeeeeek. The smiling face of Anna Lewis pokes its way between the door and its frame. "Well; it's nice to see that you're finally awake. How are you feeling this morning?"
"Much better. Thank you for your concern, Doctor Lewis. " Nestled in his down pillow the stranger momentarily studies the woman's face before him in hopes that it can jog his memory.
"Do you feel well enough for a brief physical," the Doctor quietly asks.
With a sleepy blink of his eyes the stranger ignores his host's question. "Ah, I remember now," he says with a pillow abbreviated nod. "You're the one that found me the other day."
Anna nods with a smile. "I'm the one. You've been asleep for three days now."
"That long? I must have really needed the rest."
"Without a doubt," Anna chuckles. "You were in pretty bad shape when I brought you in. Do you feel like sitting up and letting me take a look at those burns and the bruise on you're face?"
"Sure." The young man gently throws the covers back, eases himself to the side of the bed and then sits up.
"What .. in this world," she stammers. "Your burns .. they're .. they're gone. And the bruising on your face has all but disappeared," Anna gasps. "How can that be?" The stranger says nothing, answering her question with a shrug.
Never, in all of her years as a doctor, has she witnessed healing such as this. Her attempted use of her stethoscope proves equally baffling; for she can hear nothing.
A rubber strap is quickly tied about the man's upper arm. "Make a fist please."
Pop .. pop .. pop. "Hmm .. absolutely no reaction from the vein," she quietly says.
"Not a mark," she quietly says. "Who, are you?" Anna shakes her head in frustration. "Those needles should have penetrated your skin," she says as the tiniest bit of apprehension creeps into her mind. The guy looked human enough -- a slow, critical once over -- but there was something different about him. Different enough to breed a killer -- she silently wonders. Could she have brought the very thing which she feared the most right into her own house? And if she had, could his apparent loss of memory be the only thing keeping her alive? She had not heard of any murders for the past few days ...
"I'm sorry. I really do wish that I could help you," says the stranger with an apologetic shake of his head, "but I just can't remember very much....."
Anna quickly pushes her doubts as far from her consciousness as possible; and hopes that she hasn't just signed her own death warrant. "Not much? Anything, no matter how insignificant it might seem, can help us." Anna takes a deep, calming breath.
"They were just dreams Doctor, nothing else."
"Perhaps; but given what little we know about you I'll settle for your dreams."
With an all right shrug, the young man begins. "I saw ... a place."
"Where," questions Anna intently? "Was it around here?"
"No;" gentle shake of the head. "For some reason I get the idea that it was not upon this world."
"Huh, now that's a bit strange. How could you be so certain that what you saw wasn't located on this world?"
"I don't know," says the young man with a slow, vague shake of his head. "For some reason what I saw just didn't seem to fit this world."
"Alright, go ahead," urges Anna with a studious nod.
"I believe that the dreams had something to do with a school – maybe a class? Then there were these -- these giant black; things -- enormous machines; I believe. And then there was some sort of a small, cramped space." He thinks for several, quiet seconds and then shakes his head, the frustration upon his face evident. "I'm afraid that that's about it, Doctor."
"Good! That's a start," Anna says with a smile. "I want you to be sure to tell me anything that pops into your mind. Even if it seems strange to you, I want to hear about it. Understand?" The stranger nods. "Good," Anna says with a smile and a nod. "I plan on entering everything that you tell me into a notebook. I'm hopeful that with enough time, the entries that I make will help you begin to make some sense of your dreams and memory fragments."
"All right, Doctor." The stranger nods. "I shall be certain to let you know if anything else enters into my mind."
"Good. Now, are you still hearing that voice," Anna cautiously asks.
The stranger shakes his head in an irritated sort of way. "I certainly am. I am trying to ignore it as best I can; but it is proving to be awfully persistent."
"Well," Anna pauses, realizing that as a GP she's heading into uncharted waters. "I'm hopeful that as you remember more that'll help us to make some sense out of that voice."
Sigh. "I hope so. It's certainly making it very schuflet for me."
"What did you just say?"
"What, Doctor," asks the stranger with a confused shake of his head.
"That word that you just used; schu .. flet, I believe. I've never heard it before. And to be totally frank, I doubt that it really exists." The young man silently shrugs his shoulders.
"I must have misunderstood," Anna says, dismissing it with a wave of her hand. "Do you feel like getting up and moving around a bit?"
"I believe that I do." The stranger nods. "To tell you the truth my hunger is quite extreme."
"Now that's a good sign," says Anna with a smile. But her guest's occasional choices of words puzzle her; for they are at times stiff as if English wasn't his native language -- or he had not spoken the language for very long. "We put some clothes over there in the closet for you," Anna says with a jab of her thumb toward two accordion doors. Her eyes quickly run over Zev's arms and chest. She smiles. "I just hope that they fit."
And now for your name. You said that Zev sounds familiar?"
The stranger nods. "Indeed. For some reason it does, Doctor."
"All right then; for the time being, Zev it is. If that meets with your approval, of course?"
"That shall be fine," says Zev with a nod.
Good," Anna smiles as she gives Zev a kindly pat on his shoulder. "I'll have breakfast ready in about thirty minutes."
"I appreciate all of your help, kind Doctor Lewis."
"I'm telling you, that boy eats like a horse," Jackson says with a smile and disbelieving shake of his head. "I ain't ever seen nuthin like it."
"Make that a herd of them, Jackson." Anna smiles. "He can definitely put it away."
"I guess that means he's ok then."
"Iiiii'm not so sure, Jackson," Anna says with a sigh and cautious shake of her head. "It looks as if he's made a satisfactory recovery from his physical injuries – that's a story unto itself. But mentally, now that's what concerns me the most right now. Ya know, there for a short while I actually began to wonder if he wasn't the one doing all the killing."
"You're kiddin me," Jackson gasps.
"Relax – I've more or less dismissed that theory."
"Ya sure about that, are ya?"
"More or less," she says with a smile and twitch of her eyebrows.
"Soooooo what're ya planin ta do wth him?"
"He can stay here for now. A bit of work just might be a good therapy for him," she muses. "Do you think that you might be able to find something for him to do around here for awhile?"
Jackson sadly nods -- the memory of his two dead friends still fresh within his mind. "We could use the help," he quietly says.
"I know," Anna nods as memories of her two, lost friends play through her mind. "I want you to put him to work -- slowly. You know," she says thoughtfully, "some work might be just what he needs. I'll test the waters and see if our friend in there is agreeable with our idea. But if there are any signs of trouble, and I mean anything; you be sure and let me know as quickly as you can."
"Will do, Doc." Jackson nods.
Squeeeeeek. Gentle bang. "Gotta fix those hinges," thinks Anna. "How are you doing, Zev," she asks as she carefully eyes the stranger.
"All things taken into consideration I suppose that I am doing rather well," he replies. "I believe that the meal which you have so kindly provided must be one of the best that I have ever had. You have my thanks."
Anna smiles -- I've never heard anyone talk like this," she thinks. "You're most welcome." She nods. "My foreman and I were just discussing your future and were wondering if you would be agreeable to doing some work around the ranch?"
"That will be no problem." He shrugs. "I believe that that is the least that I can do to repay you for your kindness."
Anna smiles. "I was hoping that you would be open to the suggestion. I've an idea that a little work just might be beneficial to your recovery. Besides," she adds sadly, "we're kind of short handed .....We recently lost two men."
"Are you in distress, Dr. Lewis," Zev kindly asks.
Anna slowly shakes her head as she blots the tears from her cheeks. "I'm fine, Zev," she sadly says. "Two of my ranch hands that I had known for five years were recently killed." A rueful smile crosses her lips. "They were more friends than employees, really."
"I understand," replies Zev quietly. "It is quite difficult when you loose your friends or those that you love for whatever reason. Love really does have a double edge to it," he says softly. "Were their deaths an accident?"
"No," Anna softly says with a sad, slow shake of her head. "They were both brutally murdered. It was really quite terrible. In all of my years as a physician I've never seen anything like it."
"I am sorry to hear that," Zev quietly says. "You know," he continues – a puzzled kind of look upon his face. "I have the strangest of feelings that I should be doing something, I know not what, but something about that. There is really nothing that I can place my finger upon; it is just the most indistinct of feelings which I have."
Anna nods and then takes a deep, composing breath. "That's excellent, Zev. I'll add that to our book. I'm due back at the hospital in Neon City for a few days – something which I'm not really that enthused about, given what's going on in the city – but there are people there which need my help .....
While I'm away Jackson is going to be looking after you -- putting you to work. It is very important that you keep recording anything that pops into your mind in our book. When I get back next Thursday we'll go over your entries and see where they lead us."
"I shall do as you ask, Dr. Lewis." Zev gives the good Doctor a curt nod. "I wish you a safe trip and I shall see you once again upon your return," he says, his voice tinged with foreboding.
Dr. Anna Lewis has once again safely returned to her apartment which is located within the campus of Neon General. As she absentmindedly rummages through the usual stack of mail she feels safe within the small, five room dwelling. She quickly cautions herself concerning her feelings; for she knows full well just how fleeting safety is nowadays. Finding nothing of interest within the pile of mail she wonders just how she could manage to stem the almost limitless flow of her junk mail. "It's kind of funny really,"she muses. "No one that delivered any type of news has ever been reported killed – strange times," she thinks with a slow shake of her head.
She eyes the neatly stacked pile of old newspapers which once littered the area just outside of her doorway -- each filled with arrticle after article detailing the latest murders -- fifteen in the last two days. One article in particular catches her attention; for it talks in dispassionate terms about the killings of two ranch hands and their horses just north of the city in Pleasant Town. Her friends weren't mere statistics, she angrily thinks.
The article continues with speculations that the killer was beginning to extend its range. The use of the word its to describe the killer is not lost upon the good Doctor; for it gives the impression that someone had begun to think that what they were dealing with might be something other than human. Of course the authorities quickly dismissed that idea; perhaps a little too quickly, as far as she was concerned. She just wished that she were back on her ranch with her friends – she felt so much safer there.
A gentle knock at the front door of a modest dwelling interrupts the muffled conversation within.
Kareeeeeeeeeeeeek.
The door slowly opens. A beautiful young woman in her early twenties greets the distinguished visitor with a respectful bow.
The hooded figure solemnly bows in return. "It is with great sorrow that I tell you that we have lost all contact with Zev Stal, Miss Atir."
The young woman grabs the door frame -- her strength all but gone – her face as pale as cotton. "Wha .. what exactly does that mean, Teacher Lazarous," she stammers; her mind conjuring up the worst of scenarios.
"I fear that something may have happened to him," Lazarous quietly replies.
"How .. how bad," she asks -- her voice barely above a whisper.
The emotional distress raging within the young woman is almost too much for the revered teacher to endure -- her heart wrenching sadness threatning to tear his own heart apart. As she is joined by Zev's parents, Lazarous must fight with every fiber of his being to maintain control of his emotions. His mind races for other possibilities -- for other ways to tell them that Zev is dead -- he finds none save the direct path. Drawing upon his faith and inner strength he continues. "I fear the worse," Lazarous quietly says. "You see; when we loose contact as we have it is generally for the worse."
"I see," quietly says Zev's Mother.
"How did it happen," Gath Stal asks.
"At the present time we do not know, Mr. Stal. There appears to have been a problem with his ship.....We ah … we believe that it was destroyed upon entering the Earth's atmosphere. We shall of course conduct the fullest of investigations; but when one deals with incidents occuring upon worlds lying many thousands of light years distant it is generally very difficult for us to ascertain with certainty, the cause," Lazarous says with a sad shake of his hooded head.
"I wish you to know that I too feel a great sense of loss at this time. As you know I was very close to, Zev. His loss shall be felt very deeply for many years to come." Lazarous pauses, fighting the emotions which threaten to overwhelm him. "Once again, I wish you to know that I am profoundly sorry for the loss of your son. I shall now take my leave," he says with a reverent bow. "I fear that my presence here is merely an intrusion; for you need to be with each other at this time."
"We all appreciate your kind words and presence, Teacher Lazarous. Allow me to walk you to your transport."
"Please," Lazarous says with the gentlest of pats upon the older man's shoulder, "remain with your wife and Miss. Atir. In the future if there is anything which I may do for you, please do not hesitate to ask."
The door of the transport closes with the quietest of whooshes. As he pulls away from the house Lazarous feels the great sorrow that envelops the small dwelling which he has just left. And he will see to it personally that there is a very thorough investigation -- but like the deaths of so many other Quantum Men throughout the ages; the government's investigation will most likely be unable to reveal the exact cause of his friend's death.
The night had not been a particularly restful one for Anna's houseguest; for within his dreams many strange, unknown images appear. Those which can be remembered and understood are written down; others are like shadows, fleeting, just out of the reach of his recognition. And during his waking hours – the voice constantly hounds him. Try as he might he finds it increasingly difficult to ignore its almost constant chatter within his mind.
The work that Jackson has him doing seems therapeutic enough; for the harder he works the better he seems to feel. Seasoned ranch hands who witness his efforts during these days are truly amazed at the seemingly Herculean things which he is able to accomplish. Stumps, trees, rocks; whatever would ordinarily have required heavy machinery to clear are easily removed by the young man.
"Zev my boy," says Jackson with a disbelieving shake of his head, "you are one, strong youngman. As a matter of fact, in all my years I ain't ever seen anyone do the things that you've been doin here." Chuckle. "Partner, you're either on a healthy dose of them thar steroids, or you've been working out ever since you waz a kid."
A sheepish smile crosses Zev's mouth. "I wish I could tell you something, Mr. Hole. But I just can't remember anything right now. And believe me, you have no idea how frustrating this is for me."
"Pretty bad, huh," the older man asks as he gently slides his hat backwards upon his head.
"It is that, Mr. Hole."
The radio on the older man's belt crackles to life. "Jackson, I think you guys had better get over to the north ridge pronto. There's something you need to see here."
Gravel krunches, dust flies as the jeep grinds to a halt. Wallen Markson, the newest member of the ranch crew, motions the jeep's occupants over. "Take a look down there, Jackson," he says with a nod down the trail. "Ya see what I see?"
"Sure enough do, Wallen," replies the grim faced foreman. Jackson's eyes narrow as they sweep across the badly mutilated bodies some forty or so yards down the winding trail. "Most likely hikers, Wallen," says the older man reverently. "I figure we got no choice, we gotta take a look down there – ya know: find out who they were for their families, if that's possible." The older foreman takes a cautious look around as he pulls his rifle from the jeep. As he slowly begins to make his way down the steep trail his eyes once again carefully sweep the surrounding terrain. Before too many steps a powerful hand stops the older man in his tracks.
"Mr. Hole, why don't you and the others stay here: I'll be glad to take a look down there."
As he begins his descent questions flood his confused mind. Why had he stopped the older man – volunteering to go down to where the bodies lay? Why was the grade before him, steep by any measure, no problem for him. And those stumps, how had he managed to remove them so easily? Although he didn't understand the why of any of this, he did know that somehow it all fit together, that he should be the one to go.
"Damn, look at that sucker. He goes down that trail like a mountain goat."
"Bettern a mountain goat, Felix. One of those furry f$%^#@$ could take a lesson or two from this guy."
Ever since Zev had physically recovered from his injuries he had been hearing about the murders down in Neon City from the other ranch hands. And sadly the two, decomposing bodies before him, seemed to match the killer's brutal, method of choice; for both people had pretty much been cut to pieces. As he takes a sorrowful breath he cannot help but wonder who they were, what their life had been like and most importantly, how worried their families must be.
Well trained eyes sweep the narrow trail about him – slowly following the steep cliff face as it rises to its edge above. The two bodies, or what was left of them, could well have been thrown from up there. He nods slightly. "Yes, he thinks. That could well explain why there are no signs of footprints among the loose dirt and rock of the trail." His eyes lock upon two areas upon the cliff face above. From the looks of it something could have hit those areas on its way down. He quickly concludes that that is the most likely of scenarios; but still, there is doubt within his mind.
Despite his doubt Zev is certain that there must be something upon the steep, rock strewn trail that would back up his theory – if only he were to look hard enough to find what he seeks. It is for this reason that he fails to see or hear the large rock which now races toward his head.
"Rock, Zev," yells the all too familiar voice within his head.
The stronger, more insistent voice grabs his attention -- he glances skyward.
Steel-like muscles tense – training which he cannot remember, driving lightning reflexes. He pivots, blending perfectly with the hurtling peril from above. Powerful hands merge with the objects path sending the rocketing projectile flying harmlessly over the trail's edge.
"Very nice, Zev," comes the obviously pleased voice.
The men stare in open mouthed disbelief at what they have just witnessed; for the new guy at the ranch has just handled a massive, hurtling rock seemingly as easily as one would a small, rubber ball. They all quietly ask themselves; just who is this guy.
"Disturbing news, have I, Lord Vashdon," announces a shaking Ardoron.
"And what information do you possess that would cause your body to shake thusly, Ardoron," asks Vashdon, the Supreme Leader of a distant galaxy; who has a distinct aversion to unpleasant surprises -- something which he is about to receive.
An apprehensive Ardoron bows deeply. "A report from the Earth indicates that the dastardly Quantum Man assigned to that world," Ardoron swallows deeply, hoping to remove the lump within his throat -- it remains firmly in place. He continues quietly, "may not have been killed when his Plain Ship was destroyed."
"How can that be," screams Vashdon as he angrily pounds away at the arm rests of his throne.
"I ah .. I do not know, Lord Vashdon," hastily replies a shaking Ardoron. "The agent that you dispatched to that world believes that he may have located the Quantum Man assigned to that world."
"What do you mean, may have located," angrily hisses Vashdon.
"He states in his report that his attempt to kill this man was unsuccessful. But he further states that while his projectile was avoided, the man failed to demonstrate neither the strength nor the other abilities which Quantum Men are purported to possess."
Deep, calming breath. "Hmm," quietly muses the diminutive, hooded figure. "If this is indeed the Quantum Man which was assigned to the Earth perhaps he was only damaged when his ship was destroyed."
"And your orders, sir?"
"You are to inform my agent that he is to continue his mission in Neon City as before. If the opportunity for a future attack upon this man presents itself, he is to take it and kill him. But he is not to seek him out."
"He shall be informed as per your wishes, Lord Vashdon."
Chapter Fourteen
The ranch of Dr. Anna Lewis
The next few days pass slowly -- are not pleasant, to say the least-- and if he had had the choice, which he does not, he would just as soon have skipped; for the voice within his mind is almost constantly badgering him now. Although able to continue working, it is obvious to everyone that Zev is struggling to keep going; for at times he must use all of his self control to stop himself from literally beating his head against some nearby object.
During the nighttime hours he fares no better; for the dark hours prove to be just that; dark and restless for his tormented mind. What little sleep he manages is filled with dreams about people, places, and things which not only can't he remember, but are so alien that they obviously have no place upon the world which he find himself upon.Countless times he awakens to find himself covered in sweat and gasping for breath.
By the time Friday has arrived Zev can do nothing but lie upon his bed, holding his tortured head. Later that day Doctor Lewis returns from Neon City for the start of her much needed vacation. After receiving an update from Jackson Hole she heads immediately to Zev's room.
Soft tapping knock . After gingerly opening the door -- Quiet squeeeek -- Anna eases into the darkened room. She winces at the pitiful sight which greets her -- her heart all but breaking because of the pain within the young man's mind.
"Leave me alone; leave .. me .. alone," quietly says the young man time and again -- his voice muffled by his tightly curled body.
The bed quietly creaks as Anna gently has a seat upon the mattress. She begins to lightly stroke her friend's head. "I guess things are pretty rough right about now. Huh?"
"Yesssss," his reply muted and strained.
"So you're still hearing that voice and can't remember anything?"
"Yesss. It won't leave me alone," he quietly says as tears stream down his face. "It's in there," he says with a few, gentle taps to his head, "all the time."
"I see," says Anna with an understanding nod. "Is it saying anything in particular now?"
"It keeps trying to tell me things, Doctor Lewis," Zev says, his voice strained with almost frantic emotion. "It says that I should know these things; but I can't remember … any of it. It wants me to relax – to stop fighting it – it claims that it wants to help me. You know, I can't remember who I am or where I am from; but one thing I do know, I should not have a voice talking to me in my head. Should I?"
Dr. Lewis slowly shakes her head as she gently rubs Zev's neck. "To be honest with you, Zev, no; I don't believe that you should"..... Anna continues to gently rub her friend's neck as she mulls over an idea which has just entered her mind.
"Do you think that I may be loosing my mind," Zev sadly asks, his voice so low and weak that she can't believe it came from such a massive body.
Anna decides that she would try one, last thing before recommending that the young man be taken to the psychiatric wing of Neon General. "Would you be willing to try something a bit strange, Zev?"
"I'll try anything that you want, Doctor,"
"Fine," she quietly says with a nod. "You say that this voice has been talking to you – telling you that it wishes to help. Correct?"
"Yes."
"Very well, then. My suggestion to you is that you listen to the voice and do what it says."
"What?" Zev slowly turns his head -- looking upwards at the young doctor. "You mean that you don't want me to do anything about it?"
"Basically, no," Anna flatly councils. "Instead of fighting against it I would like you to do just the opposite. I want you to relax, stop resisting it, listen to what it says and let it help you."
"Are you certain that that will help me," he hopefully asks.
"Frankly no; I am not. But I would like you to give it a try anyway. Even talk to the blasted thing if you want to."
"Anything is better than what I've been going through. I shall give your suggestion a try, good Doctor Lewis. And I wish to thank you for it."
Anna quietly watches as Zev's body begins to immediately uncoil; to completely relax.
Zev slowly rolls over. "Do you have any left-overs; I believe is the correct terminology, remaining within your kitchen?"
"Quite the change; and so quickly too," she thinks with the tiniest of smiles.
"Why don't you take a shower and I'll see if I can't rustle up something in the kitchen."
"All right, good Doctor Lewis," Zev says with a nod. "I shall join you in a few minutes."
"You have a good and wise friend, Zev. Please take her advice. Are you willing to do that?"
"It shall feel awfully strange talking to myself but I am willing to follow good Doctor Lewis' advice and listen to what you have to say."
"That's excellent, my young host," says the obviously happy voice. "I shall start at the beginning and together we shall continue to work until your memory is completely restored. And I might add that it is very important that we accomplish this as quickly as possible. Oh, and one other thing. Please stop calling your friend, good Doctor Lewis," says the slightly annoyed voice.
"What then shall I call her?"
"I don't care -- anything -- something -- Just as long as it's not, good Doctor Lewis. And one other thing, try and make your language fit in. It's a bit stiff, " says the voice-- rich in exasperation.
"I shall try with my best effort."
"Argh!!"
"Sorry. I suppose that you had better begin," says Zev with a resigned but hopeful tilt of his head. "The shower won't bother you will it," he asks self consciously; for if anyone back home, wherever that was, knew that he was talking to .. to no one really – he is certain that he would quickly find himself confined.
"Of course not," says the disembodied voice with more than a touch of sarcasm. "I'm in your head, dummy. Now we begin the process of reinitializing your mind, so to speak. Your name is indeed, Zev Stal....."
"Yeah, that's what you've been calling me," says they young man with a sigh.
"And for a very good reason, too. Wouldn't you agree?"
"If that's really my name, I suppose so."
"Huh," the unseen voice snickers. "Welllllll let's see. I don't think that it'd be a particularly good idea calling you – oh I dunno – how about; dumb ass, since that's not your name."
"Hey," retorts the young man angrily. "I thought that you were supposed to be helping me."
"I am, num nuts" ---
"Hey!!"
"Alright already, calm down. So dumb ass and num nuts are out; but I do want you to listen up; for I have many things to say which must be remembered. Over the coming days you shall be hearing and dreaming about a great many things – important things that will affect the lives of a great many people both here and upon other worlds."
We shall now begin. Your name is Zev Stal," ...
The Quantum Intelligence (QI) within Zev's brain begins the story of his home world, the Quantum Academy, his teacher and family, his days at the academy, his graduation, and the destruction of his ship which lead to his memory loss.
"What I have just given you, my young host, is the barest of facts. Your lessons shall continue in much more detail as you sleep this night after star fall."
Squeek. The flow of hot water quickly decreases to a mere trickle and then stops. Zev towels off and then throws on a pair of loose fitting sweats along with a triple x tee shirt emblazoned with the phrase, "The truth is out there."
"Well, you look better. How are things progressing?" asks Anna hopefully.
"So far so good; I suppose," Zev says with a shrug. "If I can believe the voice in my head, my name really is, Zev Stal."
"Is there anything else," Zev's obviously intrigued friend asks.
"Apparently so; at least according to the voice," Zev says with an if you can believe it expression and tilt of his head. "But if it's alright with you I'd rather wait until I understand what's going on before we talk about it."
"That's fine," says Anna with a smile and nod. "There's no rush. I want you to take as much time as you need."
"So, how was your stay in the city?"
"Plenty scary, Zev," Anna says, the fear upon her face and within her voice obvious. "Whoever or whatever is killing all of these people appears to have gotten more active the past few days. They found twenty more people¦" she sadly shakes her head.
"That's awful, lives lost, families destroyed for nothing." Zev pauses -- gathering his emotions. "Can not the people leave the city?"
"The lucky ones have," says Anna with a nod, "but the vast majority," she slowly shakes her head, "have no place else to go. If you don't work, you don't eat. It's as simple as that. People in Neon try and keep their lives as normal as possible. I guess that they just assume that it won't happen to them-- until it does."
"Well I'm glad that you made it back here ok," Zev says with a friendly, relieved smile. "Are you going to be here for long?"
Anna nods, the relief within her voice unmistakable. "I'm on vacation now, so I'll be around the old homestead for awhile."
"That'll be nice," Zev replies through a massive yawn as he gently slides his chair away from the table. "Thank you for the late dinner, Doctor Lewis. I have to get to bed; apparently I have a great deal to learn in my dreams tonight; or so I've been told." Zev pauses. "You know Doc, that voice in my head can be a real pain."
Anna smiles. "Good night, Zev."
"Good night, Dr. Lewis. You know," he continues thoughtfully, "Zev just seems right somehow."
Anna quietly watches her young friend slowly leave the kitchen. She cannot help but wonder if the advice that she had given him was correct. And if it was not ... She decides to leave the dishes until the morning.
Zzzzzzzzzz. Zzzzzzzzzzzzz.
As dreams of a great many things invade Zev's mind the Quantum Intelligence finds his resting mind to be very receptive in its new found, relaxed state. As the laborious process of restoring Zev's memory begins the Quantum Intelligence (QI) also continues and accelerates the necessary repairs upon his brain tissue at the molecular level. Both processes would ultimately, the Intelligence hopes, return Zev's memories to him; for if they do not, he shall prove useless upon this violent world.
Dr. Lewis keeps a quiet check upon her young friend as his deep sleep continues throughout the weekend. She resists the urge to wake him as the physical strain upon his body becomes more apparent. During these times she cannot help but wonder just what was going on within his mind.
Even as the physical repairs upon Zev's brain tissues are completed his mind's resistance to recalling the past remains strong. As the minutes fade into hours his faithful QI doggedly continues to chip away at the wall within his host's mind.
As the weekend continues the old adage of one step forward and two backwards applies. Undaunted, and to his credit, the Quantum Intelligence continues to hammer at the mental wall before him. As Sunday night slowly gives way to the early hours of Monday morning the mental block within Zev's mind begins to crumble. Sensing that he has at last achieved some semblance of an opening, Zev's contact with home intensifies his efforts.
Small rivulets of sweat trickle across Zev's glistening body -- adsorbed by the already soaked sheets. For the next five hours he violently tosses and turns as his QI hammers at the crumbling mental wall before it.
Zev sits bolt upright in bed -- gasping for breath -- his heart racing -- birds chattering just outside of his window. He slowly reaches over and retrieves the clock lying upon the floor -- Six Ten, Monday morning. He smiles --------- and remembers everything.
