Neutrinoman & Lightningirl: A Love Story, Season 1 (Episodes 1 - 3)

by Robert J. McCarter

  “Stop the car,” I said, my teeth clenched.

  “No. No. Don’t freak out, now. We’ve known for over a month. Took our girl, Byte, all of ten minutes to get the info.”

  “Stop the damn car.”

  “We haven’t used that information,” he said, glancing at me. “We won’t. We were just looking into your background.”

  “What are the odds that you could survive if I exploded right now?” I asked. “Can you bend probability that much? Stop the car.”

  He pulled the car over and followed me out. We were still on a little two-lane road in the middle of nowhere. I felt a little dizzy. I walked out into the desert with just enough awareness to step around a big bunch of prickly pear cactus.

  “Sorry, fella,” he said as he ran out to catch up with me. “I said that wrong.”

  “You think? You better tell me something, right now, or I’ll—”

  “The media, they’ve been digging too. Diane Madison, that reporter from WNN, she’s got a team on it. They’re gonna find out who ya are, who your family is any day now. Ya need to call them.”

  I sat down on the sandy ground and got my sat phone out—the military had finally issued me my own satellite phone (aka batphone).

  “Told ya it would be worth it,” Choasboy said with a grin.

  ~~~

  I sat alone in the desert. I had yelled at Chaosboy until he went back to the Hummer. He seemed hurt, like a puppy who had just done a trick and was anticipating a reward, but got scolded instead. The phone I dialed just kept ringing and ringing. It wouldn’t go to voice mail, it was another batphone.

  “Hello,” she said, finally. My heart thudded in my chest on just hearing that one word.

  “Hi, it’s Nik.”

  “Oh. Hi,” Licia said.

  It was as awkward as I had feared, but there was nothing to be done about it.

  “Listen, I need to tell you something. Something important. I…” I trailed off. I missed her and I wanted to do anything but tell her what I needed to tell her.

  “What is it, Nik?”

  “Where are you? You’re not driving or anything?”

  “No. I’m on a break from training. You know, they are crazy about this now.”

  “Yeah, I know. Look, Licia, I am sorry to be the bearer of bad tidings, but I have it on good authority that some reporter is about to find out who we really are.”

  “Oh…”

  “Who we are, where we live, what our parents’ names are.”

  “I… Oh God, this is not good.” Her voice was shaking a bit, which made my stomach feel like it was going to fall out.

  “No, not good. Everything is going to change. Again.” I wanted to hold her and talk to her. She’s probably the only other person in the world that could understand what I was feeling right then. It was one thing to be doing the superhero q-morph thing with the shield of anonymity. It was going to be a completely different thing to be doing it under the glare of public scrutiny. Sitting there I was scared, and I really had no idea how bad it was going to get.

  “I… I better go. I better tell my parents, get my stuff out of my apartment.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Me too.”

  There was dead air between us. I wanted to say more, I wanted to plead for a chance to see her, but now was not the time.

  “Thanks for telling me, Nik.”

  “Yeah, of course.”

  The phone went dead.

  ~~~

  I spent the next ten minutes on the phone. I talked to my dad and to Colonel Williams. I didn’t talk about Chaosboy or me having agreed to meet with Toxicwasteman. I am sure Williams could guess.

  Maybe it was the specter of being outed as a superhero, maybe something else. But sitting there I was quite paranoid that Chaosboy, or maybe someone else from LoVE, was listening. I didn’t want to blow this whole double agent thing before it really got started.

  Williams agreed to help. He would coordinate getting my parents someplace where the media couldn’t find them. It was going to be a circus.

  “Thanks,” I said to Chaosboy as I got back to the car.

  “Worth it, right?”

  I nodded.

  “I need ya to melt that down now,” he said, pointing at the phone.

  I shrugged, held the phone out the open window and let my hand, which was holding it, go moderately neutrino and it became a smoldering pile of plastic and electronics. They didn’t want the military to track me. So be it.

  He then handed me a black bag and told me I needed to put it over my head.

  “Seriously?” I said.

  He nodded. “Secret base, ya know. Ya ain’t one of us. Precautions, they got to be taken.”

  I shrugged, putting it on and putting the seat back on the Hummer. I pretended to sleep, but my mind was way too preoccupied for anything approaching rest.

  Chapter 3

  Chaosboy

  Late Winter 2005, Phoenix, Arizona

  I had to wonder about the whole black bag over the head thing. Didn’t they know who I was? Didn’t they know how I became Neutrinoman? My hearing and sense of smell were better than human norm. Even though I couldn’t see, I could tell a lot of what was going on.

  Not that it was that surprising. We got on the Superstition Highway and headed west; the sounds of the surrounding buildings and traffic confirmed that. We headed north, on the 101. The afternoon sun made the direction obvious. We ended up at a small airport in Scottsdale.

  Hell, I really didn’t need to have good senses to tell where we were. Just the noise and the sun was enough, and knowing the area.

  But, I played along. This was the game, why the hell not?

  I was still in a foul mood… and scared. Scared of the life that was coming. Scared that I would never get Licia back, scared of the alien threat of annihilation that hung over it all.

  Chaosboy kept up his percussive yammering the whole way. I couldn’t tell if it was to distract me or because he couldn’t help himself. Most of it was inane stuff about gambling and sports. But some of it was interesting.

  “Toxic is a genius, ya know. That saying, ‘the smartest guy in the room.’ That’s him, all right. It’s always him. He’s the smartest fella in the room.

  “You’re gonna love Byte. She’s smart and she’s… well wait until you see her. She’s quite the bird. That’ll take your mind off that little ole firefly of yours.

  “It’s the Greys we need to get. They are from Zeta Reticuli. Mean little bastards. All those stories about alien abductions. That’s them. They’re the ones. Those stories of anal probes—that ain’t bullshit. They get their kicks out of that kind of stuff.

  “Ya ever seen a crop circle? Up close? It’s freaky. Toxic had me researching them early this year. He’s convinced its aliens. Not the Zeta, too creative for them. But some other race. He’s thinks they’re trying to communicate with us. Maybe trying to help us.

  “I heard ya been to Area 51. Did ya get to see the remains of the ship? Damn military has known about all this for sixty years. They just sat on their hands. What a waste. They could’a been ready for them. But it’s down to us, Neutrino. It’s down to us.”

  Once we were on the plane, Chaosboy took the black hood off.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  He nodded. We were in a small gulfstream jet. The shades were all drawn on the windows.

  He gave me jeans and a T-shirt in my size, so I changed out of my running clothes and we soon took off and headed north. The sun was up, so even with the shades down the direction we were headed was obvious. We were in the air maybe thirty minutes and we landed.

  My heart leapt. Flagstaff. Licia might be up here. It was a stupid and childish thought, and I kinda hated myself for having it. But what is that saying? The heart wants what the heart wants. Duh.

  The plane braked really hard and fast and the bag went back on over my head. As soon as we got out of the airplane I knew it wasn’t Flagstaff. It was cool, but not freezing cold. We
must have gone farther north. I suspected the little airport at the Grand Canyon.

  The noise as we drove confirmed my suspicions. We weren’t in a city the size of Flag. The drive took a while and was slow. We eventually ended up on a dirt road and things got real slow.

  “So, why do you believe in him?” I asked when Chaosboy had finally run out of things to babble on about.

  “Toxic?” he asked.

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “Like I said, he’s smart. He knows what he’s doin’. He’s got a plan. And…” He trailed off and I heard him sniff. “All my life people, they never gave me a chance. Being short I got pushed around a lot in school. Got picked last for sports. Girls weren’t very interested. But Toxic, he gave me a chance. He gives me responsibility. He trusts me.”

  “How did you meet?”

  “Do you know my origin story?” he asked.

  “I don’t,” I said, although Toxicwasteman had shared some of it on our way to Yellowstone.

  “Well, ya know. It was that day. That day we all changed. I was in Vegas down on Freemont Street. They got this crazy zip line that’s, like, seventy feet above the street. The street’s all blocked off now, and at night it’s full of folks gone in the head. People in costumes. Bands. Things projected on that long-ass awning they have over the street. A lot of fun, really.

  “I was really diggin’ the zip line and kept doin’ it over and over. I was working in Vegas, fixing slot machines. Anyway, Queen was on the awning, singin’ ‘We Will Rock Ya’ while I am sailing above the street. And then the freakiest stuff starts to happen. It’s like one of those crazy machines, where the domino falls and triggers the match, which lights the stove, which heats the pot, the steam of which inflates a balloon, which—

  “You mean a Rube Goldberg device?” I interjected.

  “Yeah, yeah, that. For me it was a Michael Jackson impersonator doin’ the moon walk who bumps into the tourist takin’ a picture of me, who stumbles in the crowd as he presses the button. His flash blinds this cowboy from Montana who stumbles into a biker from Omaha. The biker takes a swing at the cowboy. Now, some of this I see as I am streaking along. Some of this I put together later. Got lucky and found people who had seen it all.

  “Anyway. The cowboy had friends and so did the bikers. A nice, lovely brawl ensues. Security on their goofy Segways head down from just past where the zip line starts. There’s this big scaffoldin’ and pylons that anchor the thing. The rent-a-cop bumps into a little ole lady who gets her favorite scarf stuck on the little linchpin that anchors the cables to the pylons. She yanks hard and it comes out. Shouldn’t matter, right? But there’s this lady with a cane in a dirty weddin’ dress. She loses her balance and stabs out with her cane and the pin pops out.

  “Shouldna happened. The odds, they were a billion to one. But when the thing was built they had trouble with that pin. The worker put some WD-40 on it to get it in place. That bride popped it right out and down came the zip line I was ridin’ on.

  “So there I am fallin’. My too short a life flashin’ in front of me eyes because of some freak accident that should never have happened. Sixty feet up and hard pavement below. I am gonna die. But I don’t. I crash into this booth where people sit around with tubes in their noses sucking on colored oxygen. By some miracle the booth breaks me fall. I walk away unhurt.

  “The cosmic rays did their thing. The odds against it happenin’ were as high as the odds of me landin’ unscathed. I was the luckiest guy in the world. I walked right into the Golden Nugget and started gamblin’. I couldn’t lose.”

  He went silent as we bumped down the road. “You didn’t tell me how you met Toxicwasteman,” I finally said.

  “Oh, that. He heard about the accident and came lookin’ for me. I had been hitting Vegas pretty hard, racking up a lot of wins. Too many. The casinos were banning me. Then they tried to run me out of town. It was like high school all over again. I was surrounded in an alley behind the Golden Nugget. Six big guys. The odds were too far out of my favor to get me out of there without some damage. But I did get lucky. Toxic showed up, showed off, and they went a runnin’.” He chuckled before continuing. “I remember what he said. He said, ‘You and me, we’re gonna go far, kid.’”

  Chapter 4

  The Pitch

  Late Winter 2005, LoVE Base, Near the Grand Canyon

  The last part of the ride with Chaosboy was very slow and very rough. We eventually went into a tunnel before parking.

  “Okay,” he said. “Ya can take that thing off.”

  I did and there was not much to see. The headlights on the Land Rover were illuminating the form of Tom Tyree. Tall, gaunt, and middle-aged, he was standing about ten yards in front of the vehicle with his arms crossed. We were in a cave about twenty feet in diameter, with a tunnel behind us and a tunnel in front of us where Tom was standing.

  I ignored Chaosboy and got out and walked to Tom. “So, I’m here. What is it that you wanted to say?”

  He looked me up and down, frowned, and then smiled. “Is it any wonder she’s had enough of you? Always jumping right in, never any foreplay.”

  I smiled and crossed my arms, matching his pose and expression, and just stood there. I was annoyed, but letting him see it wasn’t going to help. Actually I was very annoyed. How is it that everyone always seemed to know my business?

  “All right then,” he said. “I’ll give you the tour.”

  He took me down the tunnel, harshly illuminated by bare bulbs strung along the wall. We came out into a large cave that was about fifty feet in diameter with a relatively flat dirt floor. There were several tunnels exiting this cave in various directions. In the center of the cave was a round table with chairs set around it. Sitting at it was Charles Calvin, aka Dr. Cheese. He had his round-rimmed glasses and lab coat on.

  “You know Dr. Cheese,” Tom said.

  I nodded and gritted my teeth. I disliked the guy immensely. His super power was the production of enzymes. Doesn’t sound like much, does it? But think about it. Enzymes are biological substances that cause chemical reactions. So, the magic that turns milk into cheese: enzymes. Almost all chemical reactions in your body involve enzymes.

  Dr. Cheese reached up and took my hand, shaking it. His hand was moist and limp—I wanted to wipe it off, but didn’t. He smiled but didn’t speak.

  We’ve had our run-ins. He once infected several orchards of oranges in Florida. He would walk past the trees touching each one and infecting it with an enzyme. That enzyme infected the tree and transformed the oranges, turning them poisonous. The poison was subtle, though, and wasn’t detected until the juice was in the market. The compound in the juice lowered inhibitions, kind of like being very drunk, and resulted in chaos all over the country for a few weeks.

  He never did ask for anything. Once I finally caught up with him, he claimed he had been experimenting. Actually, he called it “my little social experiment.”

  See why I wanted to wipe my hand? God knows what kind of enzyme he just infected me with and what kind of chemical reaction it could cause in my body.

  I hated the guy, I really did. But I kept my mouth shut and followed Tom.

  “This is Byte,” Tom said as he introduced me to an attractive woman of about thirty. She was dressed simply, in jeans and a black turtleneck, but she moved in a sensuous way that was quite alluring. “That’s B.Y.T.E., you know, like computers. Digital something or another.” His hand waved vaguely at the racks of computer gear behind her.

  Byte smiled and pushed her shoulder-length blond hair behind her right ear. “A pleasure,” she said, shaking my hand. Her grip was firm and confident.

  “Byte here is the nerve center of our operations,” he said. “She handles communications, research, and simulations.”

  “Simulations?” I asked.

  “We do a lot of mathematical modeling,” she said, “looking at odds and probabilities. Attempting to predict future patterns based on historical information. Data mining for
unseen trends, that kind of thing.” She spoke with an English accent that to my untrained ear sounded like she was well educated.

  “We model everything,” Tom said. “We don’t make a move unless we like what we see in the simulations. In fact—”

  “You’re going to want to see this,” Byte said, looking at me and interrupting Tom. She pointed at a large monitor hanging from the ceiling and it turned on. On the screen was Diane Madison, her perfectly coifed hair and plastic smile making me feel uncomfortable in way I couldn’t quite explain.

  “Join us at seven p.m. central, eight p.m. Pacific for a WNN exclusive report: Neutrinoman Unmasked. We delve into the real life of this real superhero and explode the secrecy surrounding him and other quantum-morphs.”

  The screen muted as a commercial for Viagra came on. I stood there staring and blinking at the screen while some grey-haired guy talked earnestly about how happy he was now that his penis works better.

  I felt a gentle squeeze of my arm and looked at Byte. The look on her face appeared to be compassionate, genuine. It made me wonder what she was doing here. I looked around and saw that Tom had left and was talking to Dr. Cheese. I looked at her face and head closely. I couldn’t see any equipment on her. Like a headset so she could hear what was on WNN. Or a remote so she could turn the TV on.

  “You’re a…” I stammered.

  “Q-morph,” she said, nodding her head. “I was a geek in a server room when the cosmic rays hit. I was installing some new servers and some bad wiring sent the Internet flowing through me. Not enough electricity to kill me or anything, but it turned my legs to jelly and I woke up a few hours later and could sense the data going through the air.”

  I nodded in awe. “Were you bit or anything?”

  “You’re wondering about the third element. Cosmic rays, plus freak accident, plus gene changing catalyst. Like the rat in your case.”

  I nodded.

  “I had gotten a flu vaccination right before the accident. Near as I can figure, that was the third element.”