Max Baker: Guardian of the Ninth Sector

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Max Baker: Guardian of the Ninth Sector Page 13

by Matthew Cronan


  “What about my father?” Max asked finally.

  “Your father was born in Futora,” Donovan began, but just then the door behind the reception desk opened. Melotta poked her head out of it and flashed a grin at Max.

  “Mr. Reese,” Melotta’s sultry voice called from behind the partially opened door. “The Elders have concluded that you may commence with the initial testing of Mr. Baker. They are requesting a full demonstration by this time tomorrow.”

  “A full demonstration?” Donovan asked. “Are they mad?”

  “Mr. Reese,” Melotta began, “I am only the messenger. The Elders did want me to convey that they have the utmost faith in you, and in Max. I will deliver the details of the demonstration to you in a few hours when the meeting concludes. Both the medical laboratory and training room are available to you.” Melotta offered a warm smile to the room before disappearing behind the door.

  “Max,” Donovan said, “I apologize, but this part of the story will have to wait for another time.”

  Chapter 17

  A Reboot of the System

  Donovan led the group at a frenzied pace down yet another long corridor. Max felt like he had to jog to keep up with him as Donovan navigated them through the maze.

  “You need to tell me about my father,” Max called after Donovan.

  “I told you that I would Max, but now is not the time,” Donovan said.

  Donovan led the group to the end of the hall to a door that was marked:

  Medical Staff Only

  Underneath the doorknob was a keypad that looked exactly like the one from the elevator in Atlanta. Donovan entered in a few quick keystrokes. The door buzzed, and he pushed it open.

  The room looked just like every operating room Max had seen in his life. The floor was a green and white checkered tile, and stainless steel cabinets lined the walls.

  At the center of the room was a stainless steel operating table, an accessory table full of surgical tools, and a machine that Max had never seen before. The machine stood eight feet tall, and it had a wide cylindrical center that branched out to four silver feet at the bottom. Black and red tubes crisscrossed in and out of the machine. On the core of the apparatus a small monitor sat dormant.

  “Take your shirt off Max and lie down on the table,” Donovan said, approaching the table of surgical tools.

  “Not until you tell me about my father,” Max said. He folded his arms across his chest.

  “Max, we do not have time for this,” Donovan pleaded.

  “Make time,” Max said. He was tired of playing the waiting game.

  Donovan looked to Kennedy and Noah for support, but they both averted their eyes. Noah awkwardly whistled the theme song to some old black and white television show.

  “Mr. Baker,” Donovan said, turning his attention back to Max. “I beg of you to please act rationally. I do promise to answer all of your questions when time permits.”

  “Act rationally?” Max asked, raising his voice. He could feel his blood boiling. He wanted to punch the man as hard as he could. His voice had been amplified much louder than he intended, and it bounced around the room off of the stainless steel.

  “Yes,” Donovan said. “I feel as if you are acting very irrational right now, Max. I feel that you do not grasp that time is of the utmost importance.”

  Max’s heart raced. He couldn’t fathom the audacity of Donovan calling him irrational. Max exploded.

  “Screw you!” Max exclaimed, pointing his finger at Donovan. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kennedy take a step behind Noah.

  “Max,” Donovan said, lowering his voice, “I am here to help you. I am your protector. It is my duty to serve you.”

  “Let’s get this straight right here then,” Max said. His face was hot. “You’re going to tell me about my father right here and right now, or I’m not lying down on any table. Instead, I’m going to take my friends and go home.”

  “Max,” Noah said meekly.

  “Not now,” Max said.

  “Mr. Bak-” Donovan began, but Max was quick to cut him off.

  “Do you understand?” Max asked. He could feel his hands shaking with rage. He was fed up with Donovan, with school, with his mom, with his life. He wanted answers, and he wanted them now.

  “Please, Max,” Donovan began again.

  “Yes or no?” Max asked firmly.

  “Max, your hands are glowing,” Kennedy said.

  Max looked down to see that both of his hands were radiating with the blue energy. They looked like he had dipped them into a vat of some toxic radioactive material. Every time Max felt his heartbeat, he saw his hands pulsate brighter.

  “Just take a deep breath,” Noah said.

  Instead of embarking on any relaxation techniques, Max lifted his hand in Donovan’s direction. The room grew eerily quiet. The blue light from Max’s hands was reflected throughout the room.

  “Lower your hands, Max,” Donovan said firmly, his hand erupting in a blue ball of energy of his own. Max and Donovan stared at each other; it was a standoff that Max hadn’t expected, but one that didn’t scare him either. Max stood his ground.

  “Both of you stop it right now!” Kennedy yelled. Both Donovan and Max turned toward the shriek. Max could see the fear in Kennedy’s eyes. He lowered his hands. He took a deep breath. Slowly the blue energy began to fade away. The ball of energy that encased Donovan’s hand dissipated as well.

  “Now,” Kennedy continued, “start talking, Donovan. Or else we will walk right out of here without a second thought about the Ninth Sector.” Donovan looked shocked that she had taken Max’s side.

  “Fine,” Donovan said, sighing deeply. “Your father was born in the city of Dellizar, on the planet of Futora Armeddia. When he was 18 years of age, he joined the Sidus Special Forces. Shortly before he turned 21, he was assigned to guard the Sidus Refugium gateway in Atlanta.

  Reports are sketchy at best about how he met your mother, but Colin petitioned to the Council that he be excused from the last six months of his tour. He also applied for Earth citizenship. He was granted a probationary citizenship by the Council and would have to check in every six months until they deemed appropriate.

  About a year after your birth, Colin missed his check-in date. A scout was sent out, and he was told by your mother that Colin had left. She claimed that he had told her that there was urgent business that would require him to be gone for an unforeseeable amount of time. Your mother told the scout that she thought that was just his polite way of dumping her after…the incident. A small search team was then sent out to find him, but came back empty handed.”

  Max didn’t have to ask to know what incident Donovan was referring to. He knew his brother’s death had taken an emotional toll on his mother. If she had been in that same frame of mind back then, he could understand why his father would have left. It was true; Max’s father had abandoned them. Max headed to the table.

  “What are you doing, Max?” Kennedy asked.

  “Donovan answered my question,” Max said, briefly looking back toward her. If there was anything else that Donovan knew, Max didn’t want to hear about it.

  Max reluctantly took off his shirt and hopped up on the table. The table was cold against his bare skin. Lying there under the bright lights, he shivered. Donovan rolled the machine over toward him and started untangling the hoses wrapped around the machine. Donovan began placing electrode patches onto Max’s bare skin – six on his chest, two on each of his arms and one on each of his temples.

  “What exactly does this thing do?” Kennedy asked.

  “This thing,” Donovan began, “is called a reneurolizer. It will first give us a full readout on Max’s brain activity, similar to an EEG. After the results come back, I will be able to analyze how Max’s brain works – how quickly the neurons fire, which other neurons respond, etc.”

  Noah and Kennedy both tilted their heads to the side. Donovan apparently picked up on their confusion as well and elaborated furt
her.

  “The reneurolizer will map out all of Max’s brain activity and also give a full diagnostic readout on how certain areas of his brain respond to varying types of stimulation. I will then be able to, well to put it crudely, rewire his brain to its full potential.”

  “Whoa, whoa!” Noah interrupted. “How are you going to rewire his brain?”

  “Well, the machine will temporarily cause all of Max’s brain activity to cease, and then I will be able to reboot it with certain preprogrammed parameters. Firing sequences of certain neurons will be altered; some neurons will stop communicating with each other while simultaneously forming new partnerships with different neurons. These parameters will allow Max to harness the true energy that he possesses. He will be able to control his lifeforce. Instead of only being able to produce the energy during episodes of extreme emotions, he will be able to invoke it on command.”

  “Um…I’m no rocket scientist or anything-” Kennedy began.

  “Well isn’t that the understatement of the year,” Noah interrupted. Kennedy glared at him.

  “Anyways,” she resumed, “won’t ceasing all of his brain activity essentially kill him?”

  “Technically yes,” Donovan responded, nonchalantly flipping on the machine. The monitor came to life as green numbers and lines appeared on the black background of the screen. “But only for a few minutes.”

  “Hold on,” Max said, sitting up from the table. “Your great plan is to kill me?”

  “Only temporarily,” Donovan said. “Like I said out in the waiting room, our medicines and sciences are far more advanced than those on Earth. We have been doing procedures like this for thousands of years now. The average lifespan of a Futorian is 300 years old. There are no diseases or illnesses. No common colds or life threatening plagues. I assure you, Max Baker, I know what I am doing. Now please lie back down.”

  Max looked at Noah, who offered him nothing more than a glib shrug.

  “Thanks,” Max said.

  “Sorry,” Noah responded, “but all of this is way over my head.”

  “Simple addition and subtraction is way over your head,” Kennedy chimed in.

  “Hey!” Noah exclaimed. “Math is hard.”

  “Max, you can’t do this,” Kennedy said, approaching the table. Max could see a look of genuine concern had washed over her.

  “Why not?” he asked.

  “Can you two give us a second?” Kennedy asked.

  “We really do not have time for this,” Donovan said. He opened one of the steel cabinet doors and began grabbing supplies out of it.

  “You’re about to kill my friend because some old man told you he might be some Luke Skywalker type, and I can’t have five minutes with him?” Kennedy glared at Donovan, who had an armful of cotton swabs and rubbing alcohol.

  “There is nothing more painful than dealing with hormonal teenagers,” Donovan said. He let the items collapse onto the empty table next to the one full of sharp instruments.

  “Excuse me?” Kennedy asked.

  “Never mind,” Donovan said. “Let us step outside, Noah.”

  “You don’t have to tell me twice,” Noah said, already turning toward the door.

  After the door was pulled shut, Kennedy walked the last couple of feet over to Max. He could smell the subtle flowery aroma of the remnants of her perfume. There was a long moment of silence as Max waited for her to speak.

  “Why are you doing this?” Kennedy asked, her voice trembling slightly.

  “I don’t know,” Max said.

  “I mean, do you really buy into what this crackpot has been telling us?”

  “As farfetched as everything he has said is, we did have to go through a fold in the space time continuum to get here.”

  “You are such a nerd,” she said.

  “I’m the nerd?” Max asked. “You’re the one who dropped a Star Wars reference.”

  They both laughed, but there was still a worried look on her face.

  “You really don’t have to do this.”

  The sarcasm, the anger, the bitterness…none of it sounded present in her voice. Instead it sounded like she actually cared about him. Max’s heart began to beat a little faster.

  “Maybe,” Max said, noticing how close her hand was from his. “But maybe this is my destiny. Maybe I really am destined to be here.” He looked deeply into her blue eyes, and she smiled at him for a moment. She gently placed her hand into his. They interlocked their fingers. Her skin was soft and smooth, and Max felt nervous for some reason. However, her smile quickly turned into a frown, and she released his hand.

  Without saying a word, she crossed the room and opened the door. He could hear whispers through the doorway. Donovan and Noah reentered. Kennedy remained in the room, but stayed in the far corner away from them.

  “What did she want?” Noah whispered, joining Max at his bedside.

  “She doesn’t want me to do this,” Max responded.

  Donovan took one of the cotton swabs that he had drenched with alcohol and rubbed it on the crook of Max’s arm. It was cold, but Max almost didn’t notice it. He was focused on Kennedy in the corner. She wasn’t looking directly at them; her attention was diverted to her cellphone. Max thought her eyes looked watery, but couldn’t tell from his position.

  The pinch of the needle being shoved into his skin caught Max’s attention.

  “Sorry,” Donovan said.

  “You could really work on your bedside manner,” Max said flatly.

  Donovan touched the screen and pressed a couple of buttons on the monitor. The machine spit out a long, narrow sheet of paper. As Donovan held it up to the light, Max watched the green lines on the monitor blip, jump up and down, and then blip again.

  “Your neural activity levels are very impressive, Max,” Donovan said. He turned a dial attached to the side of the monitor. The lines jumped faster on the screen. Max felt his heart rate increase.

  Donovan hung a bag of clear fluid at the top of the IV pole. Then he hung a second bag; a bright orange liquid swirled inside of it. Max’s arm began to burn as Donovan pushed a couple of buttons on the infusion pump. His heart kicked into overdrive. He could feel it banging against the walls of his chest – his pericardium his anatomy teacher called it. The faster it pumped, the more the burning sensation began to spread through Max’s body.

  Max watched as tiny orange droplets dripped from the bag and traveled through the clear tubing and into his veins. He could feel the liquid being pumped into his heart and then dispersed into his arteries. The burning grew more intense, and Max felt like his heart was exploding. He slammed his fist against the metal bed railing. His body shook uncontrollably. He felt his jaw clinch tightly. Max looked down and saw that his hands were turning blue; the bright energy quickly engulfed them.

  “No, no, no!” Donovan exclaimed, looking toward Max’s hands. “You’ll fry the machine if you have an episode now.”

  Donovan ran over to a cluster of cabinets on the far side of the room. He threw open drawers and cabinet doors until he extracted a syringe that was full of a dark brown liquid. Max watched as his hands grew brighter and brighter. A bright white light was beginning to fill his vision, and everything was becoming blurrier. Max felt like his blood was on fire and couldn’t help but to scream out in pain.

  “What’s happening?” Kennedy asked. She sounded far away, and Max felt his body begin to convulse violently.

  “Seriously, what is happening?” Noah repeated Kennedy’s question.

  Donovan grabbed a cotton swab with his free hand, dipped it in the alcohol and quickly rubbed the liquid on to the center of Max’s chest.

  “What’s that for?” Noah asked.

  “Max, this is going to hurt,” Donovan said.

  Without any hesitation, Donovan lifted the syringe high into the air and brought it down with force. The sharp needle sunk deep into Max’s chest. Max let out another scream as a rush of torturous pain ran through his body. As quickly as his heart had
begun to race, he felt it slow almost to a stop.

  The room seemed to grow further and further away. He heard Kennedy scream, but it sounded as if it were coming from miles away. Noah and Donovan yelled back and forth at each other. It was all so distant. Max faintly heard Donovan say the words kill switch, but it was so muffled that it was hard to make out.

  Max felt sleepy. His whole body relaxed as he stared blankly toward the bright surgical light hanging high above him. From miles away, he thought he heard Kennedy crying. And then there was silence. He closed his eyes.

  Chapter 18

  A New Man is Born

  Max stood at the footsteps of the castle. The cool wind whipped across his bare chest, and Max’s teeth chattered together. Behind him, the two red moons watched over him. He headed up the slick steps and into the castle.

  Max moved quickly through the foyer, stopping to pick up the candelabrum on the way. He headed down the dark corridor. Whatever awaited him in the room ahead, Max felt it possessed the key to connecting his past to the present.

  As Max reached the door at the end of the hall, he could hear voices coming from the other side. As quietly as he could, he cracked the door open. The voices became more distinct.

  “My Lord,” Gorthon said. His voice was deep and gravelly. “Initial reports from the Council are that this Max Baker child does appear to be the Guardian.”

  There was a long pause, and Max pushed the door open a bit more as he held his breath. Through the crack, he could see that the arrangement of the room had changed. No longer was it filled with medical equipment and his mother. Instead, a cloaked figure sat on a golden throne against the far wall of the room. Gorthon kneeled at the foot of it.

  “That is impossible,” the figure hissed.

  “Elder Darthoor has sent word that the Council will be testing the boy tomorrow evening.”

  Max pushed the door open enough for him to slide through. He pushed himself against the wall and moved to a better position. From under the hood of the cloak, he could see the scarred face of the man from the poster. It was Ausiris.

 

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