Eminent Silence

by Tristan Carey

  I thought I shook my head, but I was so weak I wasn't sure if thought is translated to movement. I tried to say something — 'Where's my mom?' — but the thing that came out of my throat is not a voice. It's a sound. A weak animal cry. Pain and anguish. I didn't want to be here.

  'I know, you have many questions.' The man said, and his voice is so soothing. It settled me, for some reason. There's a tone to it that made me feel safe, but I didn't understand it. My mind chased this thought as he continued, 'And you'll understand everything, in due time. Right now, though, the priority is your health. The Baron informs me that you have a collapsed lung, and are suffering from internal bleeding. Tuberculosis, he says. You're body is slowly shutting itself down from the inside.'

  The words make me go still, and I barely register it as the man leans his elbow against the mattress, right next to my hip. He is still too far away for me to make out any details of his face. 'For now, you will live. We have very good doctors here, and they have extended your longevity for about a week. We have you on life support, and it's doing most of your heart's work for you. It's very weak, I'm afraid. It's impressive it's even lasted this long at all. You're very strong, Amelia Fletcher. Now, I must ask you to be brave.'

  I blinked slowly at him. I didn't really understand the words he was saying, because they made no sense. I was in a hospital. There are doctors. But this man was... not a doctor? Who was he?

  I wanted to ask. But the words did not come. I still couldn't speak, the plastic tube still in the way.

  My fingers twitched, though. Towards him. I wanted to know.

  'Me?' He said, understanding. How he perceived it at all surprised me. I didn't expect my questions to get answered at this point. I determined his accent to be Eastern European. 'I'm someone who's very interested in your well-being, Amelia. I think you have much potential, and that potential is of great use to me. And I have the means to save your life. There is no question to it — you are dying, Amelia. You will not live much longer if there isn't intervention. The fact that we reached you when we did was a miracle. Had we been any slower, you would surely be dead by now.'

  I shuddered at that. I choked on the plastic in my throat. My eyes burned. No doctor had ever had the will to say that to me before. As much I wanted them to be honest with me before, I wasn't ready for it. I could feel the tears, hot trails down my face.

  The man clucks his tongue, and I feel a touch against my cheek. 'Oh, come now, there's no reason to cry, Amelia. You are in good hands here. I promise you, we will not let you die. Fate is on our side. Your salvation is already in your blood. You were born with it. All is needed is to activate it.'

  'If not for that, we would never have come for you. Your blood,' he pauses, then rectifies, 'Your father, I should say, is the reason why you're here. I can see it, in your eyes, you're just like him. And you will make him proud.'

  This made even less sense. My father? What did my father have to do with this? I never met him. Who was he? Did this man know him? How was it going to save my life? What about him was in my blood? I first thought it was a metaphor, but I was beginning to think he's being completely straightforward.

  My blood. My DNA. I was predisposed to something I did not understand. Yet.

  Still, I cried, because I want Mom. I was scared, and she was the only one who would make it better. This not-doctor wasn't helping, no matter how kind he sounded.

  'I know you must be afraid.' The chair squeaked and shifted, and suddenly a face was over mine. I saw him.

  I could see him.

  'It's in your eyes,' he said, and I stare into his. Green eyes. Dark hair. Clean-shaven and high cheekbones. A handsome face. Middle-aged. A sharpness in his expression that was more terrifying than anything I have ever seen before. He smiles. 'It's in your face. I knew you were young but...never imagined just how small you would be. To think you had to live fifteen years of this before we could finally find you, fix you.

  'I'm sorry for all the torment you had to endure,' he said, and that's when I get it. The way his voice sounded, why it didn't scare me like it should. It sounded like Mom's when I was sick, when I was hurt, when I needed her. 'I'm sorry for the pain you are in right now.'

  It's a voice cultivated only through practice, through years of experience.

  The voice of a parent. A father.

  His hand brushes against my forehead, pushing hair out of my face. It sends a chill down my back; it's the exact same gesture Mom used with me. 'But soon, it will be gone. You will never experience pain like this again. You will never get sick again. Your eyesight will be perfect. Your liver will not fail — in fact, it will be so efficient that you can never get drunk. Your lungs will not burn and give out. Your legs will support you on your own, and your arms will lift what was never possible before. Your mind will be sharper, faster, than you have ever experienced. You will become something greater than before. Something greater than all of us. An ubermensch. A super soldier.'

  The scene shifts before I could understand what was happening. In the back of my mind, I knew this wasn't real, that this wasn't happening real-time, and that I was experiencing a memory. Or rather, a collection of memories haphazardly sewn back together again. The kind man's face flickers out, his voice fading into an unintelligible jumbled mess that I can no longer make out - I strain to listen, trying to gather as much information as possible. That man is important, I knew, I just wasn't sure how.

  I found myself in a different, but similar cold white room. This time, however, my comfy cot had been replaced by a much less accommodating metal table. An operating table?

  I discovered it was a little easier to move — only to find that my wrists and ankles were bound; metal manacles attached to the table. There was also bracing on either side of me head, which kept me from turning and looking around the room. I stared at them, struggled weakly for a moment before giving up. Breathing too hard still hurt. The tube in my mouth had been removed, although the IV in my arm remained.

  What caught my eye was the table across from me, against the opposite wall. It was a fairly ordinary table. What rested on top, however, was far from ordinary as I'd ever seen. A gleaming silver and gold staff, something eerie and beautiful, with a sharp, curving top and a blue stone embedded in its center. The stone glowed softly, and I swore I could hear it. Hear it whispering. Whispering soft, sweet words, into my ear.

  'Fascinating, isn't it?,' said a male voice — a thick German accent. I picked my head up, surprised to see the tall, lean man standing in the corner of the room. My vision was still blurry thanks to lack of glasses, but I could still see that he had his hands clasped behind his back, and I could pick out the shimmer of metals along his lapel. He wore a white apron over a grey uniform, and had red glass over one eye. A monocle? He gestured to the staff when I looked to him, surprised. 'You have been staring at this the entire time I have been here. But do not worry - I am not offended. If anything is more deserving of attention, it is certainly this lovely piece.'

  It definitely wasn't the same man who spoke to me earlier. The voice was a dead giveaway, but I could tell this guy was bald, or maybe a shaved head; hard to say without glasses.

  I didn't know if I'd already been awake for some time, or just woke up in this memory. The last I remembered was the man's face, his kind voice. It took me a moment to register I was not alone.

  I blinked slowly at him, still pushing the sleep away. 'W-who are you…?'

  'Ah, yes,' The man said — an actual doctor this time? I could just barely make out the stethoscope slung around his neck. 'I suppose you wouldn't know. I am Baron Von Strucker, head of the science division here in the Crucible, where we forge the greatest of men and weapons. You should be very grateful, Fraulein — without us, not only would you be dead, but you would never see the glory the Chairman intends for you.'

  To be honest, glory was the last thing on my mind at the moment, but I guess that was obvious from the look on my face, be
cause the man just smiled and pressed a hand to his chest, 'I know, I know, how can you be proud of something you have yet to understand? All in due time.'

  The other man - the Chairman? Him? - said the same thing, but in my memory I couldn't piece it together. Maybe some time had passed between the two points. Still, I felt my mouth move, lips stumbling over the words. 'I-I'm not who y-you think I-I am. Th-there h-has to be a m-mistake.'

  Instead of addressing my protest, the Baron merely tilted his head, studying me. That red monocle flickered sinisterly under the light. 'Interesting. Have you always had a stutter, Fraulein?'

  'I — yes?' I made a face, caught off guard by the question.

  'A developmental disorder, I presume.'

  I could only shrug helplessly. What did it matter? 'I w-was born p-premature. T-twenty-three weeks.'

  'Twenty-three weeks old?' The Baron chuckled. 'Well, isn't that a miracle. What is it, Fraulein, that has you so determined to live, against all odds?'

  'I-I…don't know. I just w-want to l-live. D-don't most p-people?'

  'A few, I suppose,' Von Strucker nodded slightly, as if appraising my answer. 'But that is not what I meant. Why do you still continue to live? Why have you made it this far, when all you have ever faced is opposition and discouragement.'

  'H-how could you p-possibly know —'

  'I know many things, Fraulein Fletcher,' The Baron interrupted me. 'What I don't know is what pushes you to keep fighting?'

  To be honest, I was terrified. I didn't want to answer that question. I was afraid there was a wrong answer, and what would happen if I said it. There was a clinical chill to the Baron's words that made me feel as though I was less of a patient and more of a guinea pig, and considering the predicament I was in, this was not good news.

  So I considered his question, quiet for a long moment. If was I was going to answer this, I might as well be truthful.

  Then, it came to me. A single word.

  'Spite.'

  The Baron laughed, apparently very amused by this. 'Ah! Well, I would expect no less from an American. You Westerners have an interesting idea of how the world works, don't you? Too bad it has changed so greatly that you no longer recognize it anymore.'

  I had no idea what he meant by that, and didn't get the chance to ask, as the Baron moved on, stepping forward.

  'Do you know what this is?' The Baron asked, gesturing to the alien-looking staff thing on its pedestal.

  'N-no,' I said. My eyes kept flicking between the glowing blue stone set into the metal scepter and the red monocle on the Baron's face. Both were equally ridiculous and I couldn't figure out which to focus on.

  'This,' Von Strucker said, pacing back and forth in front of the table, his eyes casting over the weapon with a sort enraptured glee. 'Is our lovely little secret here in the Crucible. A recent acquisition that will prove most useful in the upcoming procedure. Tell me, Fraulein, do you know the secret ingredient to the Super Soldier Project that made Captain America such a success? A process perfected once, and then never again?'

  'Isn't it th-that p-protein in b-b-bananas?' Something about this all had numbed me; for some reason, I had an answer for that, and there was nothing in my mind to stop from me from saying it. It almost felt like I was in class, answering a teacher's question. 'P-potassium. The U.S. g-government d-declassified and r-released information on P-Project: Rebirth i-in the Eighties, a-along w-with other World War II doc-documents that had b-been kept c-confidential up u-until that p-point. It's c-common knowledge now.'

  'You would make an exceptional student, but I'm afraid that is incorrect,' The Baron said with a jerk of his chin, casting a smirk in my direction. He raised a finger, adding, 'Of course, you are not wrong, per se. Potassium was an ingredient that later experiments did not have. But we have that accounted for. I meant, obviously, the other secret ingredient.'

  I blinked at him, utterly confused. 'I-I d-didn't know th-there was a-another one. Potassium i-is the only o-one they e-ever t-talk about.'

  'Of course it is,' Von Strucker chuckled, shaking his head. 'Do you really think they would be foolish enough to reveal all of their secrets to the public? Thanks to our spies, however, the KGB has successfully uncovered the truth behind Project: Rebirth. The serum we do not have to worry about, as it has already been synthesized with your DNA, since conception. The Vita-Rays however, proved to be a challenge.'

  'V-Vita Rays?' I gaped. I had no idea that radiation was apart of Captain America's transformation. Although that would explain that Hulk fiasco. Wasn't it some physicist who thought he could recreate the experiment by using Gamma radiation instead?

  The very thought of becoming like the Hulk, a massive monster that destroyed half of Harlem, horrified me. 'You're g-going to expose me to r-r-radiation?'

  'Oh, do not panic. Panic will be no good.' Von Strucker shook his head in disappointment. 'You must simply understand. It is to activate the serum in your blood. That was its entire function after all. The serum carried the proteins, the radiation activated them, and your entire physiology is changed. Everything will go well, I can promise you that.'

  'D-didn't go s-so well for t-the Red Skull,' I pointed out, my voice trembling. Oh, my god, this was really happening, wasn't it. Is that why I was strapped to this table? Why they had pulled me from half of that life support machine?

  'No,' Baron Von Strucker conceded with a dip of his head, making a face. 'Of course, we accounted for that as well. We are well aware of how the patient's psyche can affect the outcome of the procedure, and how disastrous it can be. But we are not worried — you are not a Nazi, are you?'

  I almost snorted. 'No.'

  'Hmm,' The Baron smirked, perhaps amused by how offended I was. 'Well, good for you.'

  Before I could question the implication of that, the Baron turned sharply on his heel, coming around the back of the table, and slipping his hands underneath the scepter, raising it a few inches up into the air, as though presenting it to me. 'This little cosmic beauty has very unique properties. One of them just happens to be emitting Vita radiation. The other?' At this, the Baron met my eyes, and smiled a wicked smile. 'Inducing unquestioning obedience.'

  'W-what?' My mouth suddenly went dry, and I started to fidget as the Baron, scepter still in hand, came around to the operating table. 'W-what do you mean? What are you going to do?'

  'I am going to save you, Fraulein,' The Baron loomed over me, the silver-and-gold staff glimmering menacingly under the too-bright operating lights. I didn't fail to notice a strange aura starting to swirl around the blue stone. His face was engulfed in shadow, and the only thing I could see was the faint glow of his red monocle. 'I am going to fix you, make you better. Like a caterpillar metamorphosing into a butterfly, you will ascend to your pinnacle stage, under the power of this Aesir weapon. You will be the magnum opus of mankind. Through this stone in my power, I will mold both your body and your mind to my will - and the Chairman's will. No longer shall you be held back by your physical weaknesses. No longer will you be motivated by your own willful spite, as you call it. From this moment on, you will serve a greater cause. Peace, through force.'

  My heart was pounding and it hurt, I was breathing so hard I was afraid I'd start choking on blood again. Voice barely a choked whisper, I asked, 'W-why are you t-telling me this?'

  'A man of science is allowed to be proud of his work,' the Baron replied, his teeth gleaming under the light. 'And if anyone should know, it should be you. You shall change the world, Fraulein Fletcher. And it will be all thanks to me. Now, open wide.'

  'Wha —' I said, bewildered, but fell for it anyways. Mouth open in asking the question, I found myself suddenly choking on a gag suddenly stuffed into my mouth. It seemed to be made of metal and plastic, and I found myself biting down immediately, trying to spit it out.

  But I never got the chance.

  'This will only hurt a little bit,' The Baron said, before pressing the tip of the scepter
to my forehead.

  My vision went white. Burning heat, like fire, spread out from where the scepter touched me; like acid flooding from the top of my head to the ends of my toes. So hot, and sharp, like knives and needles shoved into my skin. Nothing, nothing like I had ever felt before. Or ever will again.

  And I screamed.

  I was still screaming when I awoke.

  'Amelia!' Wanda cried, hands on my shoulders, gripping me tight as I struggled against an invisible force, my throat ragged and sore. 'Amelia, its just me! It was a nightmare! You are fine!'

  'N-no, not a nightmare,' I shook my head, pressing my hands to my head, curling up into a fetal position. My stomach was doing flips and I felt like I was going to puke. My head still ached and burned, like I could still feel where the scepter touched me. My voice was shaky, wet with tears. 'Not a nightmare. I-I remembered...I remembered him. I was there. I was awake when it happened.'