Unidentified Phenomenon

by Damien Benoit-Ledoux

  I really need to take Mr. St. Germain’s advice and figure out what a proper superhero suit should be…

  He changed and left the coffee shop through the employee entrance, gym bag in hand, and walked as quickly as he could down Market Street toward the Sheraton. The street was loaded with tourists and there was no way for him to take off in broad daylight without being seen.

  The garage will be my safest bet…

  He turned left onto Ladd Street and walked into the parking garage, running up an empty stairwell. When he reached the top floor, he carefully looked around and listened. A car drove down into the garage, but he saw no other signs of life.

  He soared up and across Hanover Street to hide his gym bag on the roof the exclusive 100 Club—a rooftop he could easily spot from the sky—so he could retrieve it later. Then, his eyes and body now glowing, he flew up into the sky until he was several hundred feet over the Sheraton. Using his super vision, he watched and scanned the seemingly quiet Sheraton grounds beneath him.

  ❖

  Blake

  “I can go faster,” Blake shouted, yelling over the sound of the whirring and over-taxed treadmill under his feet. The technicians, Arik and Miguel, had jury-rigged a high-end treadmill with a fixed torso stabilization system and re-geared it for extreme speeds. They also added a coolant system to keep the treadmill’s rollers and axle points from melting.

  The stabilization system was a flat gray piece of padded metal that pressed against his stomach and chest but allowed for enough movement to bounce with his torso as he ran, but it held him in place over the treadmill he had to move with feet. Once he got the hang of it, it felt like running outdoors instead of a self-propelled treadmill belt.

  “Go for it,” Dr. Madison shouted, giving him a thumbs up. Arik and Miguel looked at each other nervously, but Blake didn’t care if he broke their machine. The two technicians monitored the make-shift liquid coolant system they had built for the tests, but Blake’s unexpected speed quickly taxed its cooling ability.

  Already running three-minute miles, Blake ran faster and watched the treadmill’s speedometer max out. Smoke began billowing from the rear roller as he accelerated and the stabilization system he ran against shuddered loudly with violent protest. The whirring treadmill sound became unbearably loud as the front roller began smoking and shaking. Blake’s eyes blazed with orange fury as Arik and Miguel backed away, violently gesturing for him to stop. He did, but only when Dr. Madison raised her hand and glared at him like an angry school principle. As he slowed, the treadmill belt ruptured and burst into flames, scattering pieces of burning rubber around the room as it surrendered to the excess force Blake had put it through. The room immediately smelled of acrid, molten, and burning rubber.

  Blake jumped off the treadmill and backed away, laughing as Arik and Miguel ran for the fire extinguishers and doused the burning treadmill. Several moments later, Blake sat on the stool again, examining the melted soles of his running sneakers. Nadia monitored the readings from his electrode hookups and Dr. Madison checked his pulse and heart rate. Sweat glistened on his skin and ran down his torso, running down his sides from his armpits and dripping from his elbows and fingers.

  Victor silently watched the whole test and it's combustive ending, an expression of fascination and amusement dancing upon his face. “Don’t worry, we purchased several pairs of sneakers.”

  Blake smirked at him, then turned his attention to Dr. Madison. “All right, Doc, how fast did I run?” he asked. His eyes faded back to normal.

  “Faster than the treadmill could handle,” Miguel said letting the fire extinguisher hang at his side. Arik tapped some buttons on the wall and the air exchange system sucked out the nasty burnt rubber smell from the room.

  “Do you know what speed you ran at track, prior to acquiring your super powers?” Dr. Madison asked.

  “About six-minute miles,” Blake answered.

  The doctor chuckled and shook her head. “Amazing, absolutely amazing. Today, when you blew up the treadmill, you ran two-minute miles. What I don’t understand, though, is why you’re barely out of breath. Although you’ve broken a considerable sweat, and although your heartbeat is slightly elevated, your body appears to have already recuperated from a forty-five-minute run in a matter of seconds.”

  “Do you need to eat something?” Nadia asked. “Your caloric output is off the charts; I don’t know how you’re still standing, Mister Blake.”

  He smiled. “I feel fine. I still have the appetite of a healthy, growing teenager. I’m not the faintest bit ravenous after expending energy like that, but if you’re serving grilled burgers, I’m down for three.”

  “I’ll note that for lunch,” Dr. Madison responded, smiling as she checked her watch. “Speaking of which, let’s do one more test before noon. One of your powers is the ability to generate heat and fire, correct?”

  Blake nodded.

  “We’ve assembled a special titanium chamber for you to stand in and generate as much heat and fire as you want. We’ll measure the internal and external temperatures of the chamber and if it starts to melt you can stop or we’ll extinguish you with a smaller version of a gas-station fire suppression system.”

  “Uh-huh,” Blake answered, chuckling. “Victor, do you have another pair of running shorts for me?”

  “Yeah why?”

  “Because I’m going to need them when I burn this pair off.”

  “Oh, right,” Victor answered.

  “Nadia, please remove the monitoring equipment from his body,” Dr. Madison said.

  Ten minutes later, after Nadia removed the electrodes, Blake stepped in front of the titanium chamber. Its stacked metal construction resembled a log home. Realizing he could save the new running shorts they had given him, he pulled them off with his socks and tossed them aside. Naked, he stepped into the metal chamber. Arik and Miguel closed and latched the make-shift door behind him, locking him in until the tests were completed.

  “Ok, we’ll begin in thirty seconds. We’re going to switch on the overhead exhaust fans and open the air intake valves.” Dr. Madison said, her voice amplified by a speaker mounted under the floor. Above him, exhaust fans switched on and sucked cool air through the chamber. Blake assumed the exhaust vans would safely vent his generated heat to the surface before he had a chance to incinerate everything in the workroom.

  Blake centered himself in the dark chamber, legs akimbo, hands clenched into fists. He looked through the small gap in the titanium metal logs that Arik and Miguel had created so he could watch the team get ready for the tests. Seconds later, Dr. Madison gave him a thumbs up.

  “Thermal cameras are running, Blake. Let’s do heat-only for the first test, so no active flame, at least to the best of your ability.”

  “Okay.” Here goes nothing.

  He took a few deep breaths, consciously willing away the nervousness he felt. He paused when he looked down at his naked self, then quickly averted his eyes. I've never done a full body burn before…I hope it doesn't burn my dick off.

  He exhaled and let himself heat up hotter than any temperature he had achieved during his tests with Quinn or when he had held back for fear of starting grass fires or burning down his house.

  His eyes illuminated the inside of the darkened chamber as he kicked up the temperature, momentarily drenched in sweat until it evaporated the moment his pores released it. Strangely, he didn't feel unusually warm, despite his body’s automatic response.

  “Okay, Blake, where are you at? Is this half-power or full power?”

  “I have no idea,” he shouted over the noise of the exhaust fan, wondering how they would hear him. Maybe there's a microphone around me somewhere.

  “If you can keep going, go ahead,” Dr. Madison instructed.

  “Oh, I can keep going.” Moments later, the titanium began to glow yellow-orange as it reacted to the extreme heat he pushed from his body. Several moments later, his body erupted in flame.

  He looked d
own at his body. It was surrounded by an orange flame that burned darker at his skin—it was almost purple, unlike a normal yellow and blue flame. His skin did not burn, and to his relief, his genitals remained unscathed.

  “We’re not ready for flame yet,” Dr Madison cautioned. Blake could sense irritation in her voice.

  “This happened on its own. Want me to stop?”

  “Um, no, keep going, we’ll adjust things on our end.”

  “How hot am I?” Blake called out.

  “Twenty-seven hundred degrees Fahrenheit. You cannot go over three thousand or the titanium chamber will melt.”

  “Just tell me when to stop.”

  Purple and orange fire raged over Blake’s body. Though initially separate, Blake realized his heat and fire powers were intrinsically linked. Although he could spontaneously generate fire on his body, his heat power would naturally morph or self-combust into flame at a certain point.

  “Okay, try to hold here. You’re at twenty-nine hundred and ninety degrees.”

  “I can go a little more,” Blake said, frowning. He looked down at his body again; it still appeared to be on fire rather than having become fire. He had not transmuted into flame like the Human Torch did in the comics and movies.

  “I’m sure you can, but we’ll have to get a new chamber, one not made of titanium. This one’s going to melt if you get any hotter and that kind of heat will barbecue us in seconds. Please stop right now!”

  Oh, duh.

  “Attempting to hold,” Blake said, focusing on maintaining his temperature rather than pushing it through the roof.

  “Very good let’s back down and stop.”

  Blake stopped generating heat and relaxed his stance. For a moment, he felt drained, but he recovered. Although the air system pulled cool air through cracks in the titanium chamber’s wall and the grate beneath his feet, he suddenly felt the oppressive heat of the hot metal around him.

  “We need to wait several minutes before we can safely open the door; we can’t even get near the chamber right now,” Dr. Madison announced.

  “Okay,” Blake responded. He put his hand out and pressed hard against the side of the titanium log, leaving a handprint on the hot, softened metal.

  Quinn has no idea of what he’s missing…it’s too bad because he could be learning about his powers and figuring out how to control them as well.

  “Okay, Blake, change of plans. Why don’t you go ahead and show us your fire powers?”

  Blake smiled and ignited his skin, a familiar yet different sensation than spontaneously combusting into flames moment ago. Once again, the flame glowed purple against his skin, like a super-heated mystical dark flame.

  He felt the chamber’s temperature rise quickly as he waved his arms around, bored in the confined space of the chamber. He stared at the wall in front of him. I wonder…

  He raised his right hand in front of him and aimed his palm at the metal wall.

  He focused.

  A moment later, a short column of flame leapt from his hand and fanned outward as it deflected away from the wall in front of him, following the contour of the chamber around him.

  “Okay, Blake, let’s stop. We’re approaching critical temperatures again,” Dr. Madison announced.

  That was fast. Blake pulled back with his mind and the flames licked out of existence, leaving only a small ball of flame dancing in the palm of his hand. He threw it against the wall and it dissipated.

  Not only can I create fire, but I can project it away from me. That will come in handy as a weapon.

  He grinned as the superheated metal warmed him.

  “Right, so we need to wait several minutes before we can safely open the door,” Dr. Madison announced.

  Ten long minutes later, Arik and Miguel struggled to open the door. Apparently, heating the chamber twice with a brief pause in between fused the door to the chamber walls.

  “Sorry, you’re going to have to climb out, Blake,” Arik said.

  Blake used the natural gaps between the titanium logs to get a foothold and climbed up the side of the chamber. He felt lighter than usual; either he was stronger today, or it was something else…but he couldn’t tell. At the top, there was only a foot of clearance between the exhaust fan canopy and the chamber, so he carefully maneuvered over the top.

  “Sorry about the view,” Blake announced as he hoisted himself between the space, awkwardly flashing the team his bottom side.

  When he climbed down, Arik handed him his running shorts. “Thanks for the apology, but some things can never be unseen,” he quipped.

  Blake chuckled. After he pulled on his shorts, he turned around and froze, momentarily surprised. Mother Superior and four armed guards stood near Victor’s workstation. His face conveyed displeasure and annoyance.

  Blake looked around, noting the odd behavior of the others in the room. Nadia typed away at a computer console while Arik and Miguel made themselves scarce. Dr. Madison also seemed nervous in the presence of Mother Superior.

  “Something wrong?” Blake asked, studying the armed guards.

  Silence.

  Victor cleared his throat. “Mother Superior has come to observe the tests we’re doing, Blake.” He glared at her as he spoke.

  “Enough of this,” Mother Superior spat. “Take him.”

  Two of the armed guards stepped forward, their eyes locked with Blake’s. He immediately sensed they were going to take him by force. One of them had a hypodermic needle in his hands.

  “Seriously?” Blake asked. “Didn’t we just learn that won’t work?”

  He raised his hand and flicked his fingers, ripping the needle from the man’s hands with his mind, sending it into the left thigh of the other man, who howled with surprise at the needle jab. A moment later, the guard’s eyes crossed and he stumbled, fighting to keep himself up.

  The first guard lunged at him. With speed, Blake stepped aside and turned with the guard, mentally pushing him to the other side of the room where he smashed into the pristine, white wall.

  “No don’t, no tasers!” Victor shouted.

  Blake heard Victor’s chair roll back. He spun around to see what Victor was upset about. His eyes locked onto the needle-like darts of a taser inches away from him.

  Oh shit.

  A split second later, fifty-thousand volts surged through him and blue electrical arcs careened over his body, neutralizing him. He gasped as his body involuntarily spasmed. The lights in the workroom flickered and a blast of electrical power exploded from him and flashed across the room.

  Then, he collapsed backward into darkness.

  16 | Snare of a Different Kind

  Quinn

  POLICE CRUISERS AND OTHER BLACK vehicles surrounded the Sheraton building and covered its egress points. In the courtyard, officials scurried back and forth between what Quinn assumed was the mobile command center and a police utility van. He listened for the sound of distressed voices, but he was either too far from the hotel or he couldn’t hear through the building’s multiple floors and roof.

  Think, Quinn, you’ve been inside this hotel before…how do you get in without being noticed?

  He smirked, then willed himself to become invisible. He descended to the ground, his glowing body and eyes now masked by his invisibility. This is too easy.

  Once inside the hotel lobby, he listened again for the sound of distressed voices, but heard nothing. Odd. Unless they’re gagged, I should hear whimpering or some kind of distressed sound.

  A group of police officers at a portable command station were talking about the situation, while others were busy about their own tasks.

  “Any sign of him?” the officer in charge asked.

  Where’s Chief Applegate?

  “No, our lookouts haven’t spotted the vigilante yet,” someone responded.

  “Do you think he’ll show?” another asked.

  “He better, or this will all have been for nothing.”

  That’s an odd statement to make d
uring a hostage situation.

  Quinn decided to seize the moment since this cop didn’t seem opposed to his existence. “I’m already here,” Blue Spekter announced while shimmering into existence. His voice sounded different to him, like his vocal chords had shifted to protect his identity. He kept the hood of his white pullover sweatshirt draped over his head, knowing his glowing blue eyes and body would prevent them from getting a good look at his face.

  The startled officers jumped when he appeared, and several pulled their weapons, leveling them at him.

  Blue Spekter didn’t move, hoping they’d see he wasn’t a threat to them.

  “Stop!” the officer-in-charge exclaimed, gesturing for his people to stand down. “How did you get in here?”

  “Do you want to talk about how I walked through the doorway like you did, or should we talk about rescuing some hostages?” Blue Spekter countered.

  The man hesitated for a moment and then conceded. “I see your point. I’m Lieutenant Doral.”

  “Tell me what I can do to help, Lieutenant Doral.”

  Again, the man hesitated, his face and eyes appearing conflicted.

  “Time’s a wasting, lieutenant,” Blue Spekter said, hoping his formal approach would indicate his sincerity.

  Doral frowned and then swallowed. He spoke nervously, like he was withholding something important from Blue Spekter. “The short and sweet is, we have an armed, hostile man inside the second ballroom with six hostages; four are staff, two are guests. He’s made only one demand and it’s to speak with you. We don’t know what he wants or what he’ll do with the hostages once you’re in there.”

  “So, I’m allowed to go in there without pissing Chief Applegate off?”

  Doral shrugged. “It’s your lucky day, I guess. Will you go in there? And what will you do?”

  “I’ll go in there and assess the situation. If I can, I’ll take him out before he knows what hit him. Otherwise, I guess I’ll keep him talking.”

  “Take this,” Doral said, handing him his radio. “Call us if you need anything, if he’ll let you.”

  Blue Spekter nodded and levitated, floating his way down the hall. He tucked the radio into the front pocket of his sweatshirt. Police stared at him, their mouths agape.