“Splendid,” Chilgers beamed genuinely. “Let’s take them by the numbers.”
Teke glanced at his notes. “Stage one is in many ways the easiest but similarly the most crucial. Our preliminary testing has already confirmed that whatever psychic powers the boy now possesses are directly related to his ability to generate an extremely strong energy concentration of alpha waves. The waves are channeled from his brain outward not unlike the way a television signal is beamed from satellite to living room or, even simpler, the way electricity moves from socket through cord to create live juice. In this instance, the ‘juice’ originates in the boy’s head and is jettisoned outward in an amazingly high energy burst which can be measured with some modifications on our standard monitoring equipment.”
“You have something specific to monitor, I assume.”
Teke nodded. “Just as electricity has its limits, fuse overloads and such, the unstable energy at the core of the boy’s power must as well. Across the hall in the laboratory, I have arranged for six eight-foot-square slabs of six-inch, lead-reenforced steel to be placed along with a similar number of extra-thick window panes. Simply stated, Colonel, we will gauge the boy’s power by finding out precisely how much lead-steel it takes to negate his energy waves. It’s my guess he uses only what he has to in a given situation and calls on vast reserves when the task proves greater, as your men witnessed in New York. Stage one will allow us to see how deep these reserves go and what energy levels the boy exerts in summoning them.”
“Good,” Chilgers nodded. “And stage two?”
“A bit more involved, I’m afraid. We cannot isolate the exact location of the boy’s power until we’ve fully gauged it. And then to achieve complete accuracy, we must have a constant exertion and single focal point. Based on preliminary testing, this will entail utilizing a human subject.”
“A human subject?”
Teke nodded again. “It is here where the boy’s powers, his energy waves, are most focused and thus most easily traced to their precise point of origin in his brain. The exact procedures on our part will be almost identical to those of stage one, with a few mechanical variations, of course. The difference lies in making the boy change his target from inanimate matter to a living being who can resist his power.”
“Target,” echoed Chilgers.
“In stage two, we ask Davey Phelps to repeat for us the power he exerted on Trench’s man in New York. That should give us the precise origin of his alpha waves. Of course, we’ll have to come up with a way to have the subject threaten Davey. Otherwise, his energy resources will never become fully active.”
Chilgers seemed unperturbed by the implications of what Teke was suggesting. “And then?”
“Stage three: we determine how to recreate the effect of the boy’s alpha waves, how to medically implant other living beings with such an energy field. It might be as simple as magnetizing a microscopic portion of the brain or so complicated it is like putting a jigsaw puzzle together with only half the pieces.”
“Which proves considerably easier when you know what the final picture is supposed to look like.”
“But not where to find it necessarily,” Teke explained. “Davey Phelps could be a one-in-a-billion shot. Remember, what we did to that jet affected only him in this way. It could take us years to determine precisely what sparked the surge of these alpha waves and the development of the boy’s personal energy field.”
“Something makes him different,” Chilgers reflected. “Something sets him apart. Find it and you’ll have your answer.”
Teke hesitated. “That may mean stage four.”
“You said there were only three.”
“I held the fourth one back because it is to be used only as a last resort, a last chance because once we resign ourselves to it there can be nothing else after.” Teke held the colonel’s stare. “Stage four is the removal and subsequent microscopic dissection of the boy’s brain to search for cellular irregularities and possible alterations.”
“See that it doesn’t come to that, Teke.”
“I told you it would be used only as a last resort once we’ve exhausted all other options.”
“We have plenty of time, Teke. Vortex will give us all the time we need.”
Teke checked his watch. “In that case, let me inform you that the boy is due to be given another sedative in fifteen minutes time which will necessitate a four-hour delay in the activation of stage one … unless we find a way to control him without needles.”
“I think I have an idea,” Chilgers said smiling.
Davey Phelps awoke slowly, realizing first that he wasn’t in the bed where he had spent the last day and second that he wasn’t even in the same room. His vision cleared and the smell of alcohol burned his nostrils. He was in a large white room filled with gadgets, gauges, machines, and the sound of computer tapes whirling in the cool air. He was turning behind him toward most of the noise when something tugged at his head.
“You’ll find this much easier if you stay still,” said a voice he couldn’t place among the ones he was familiar with here, wherever he was.
Davey turned slowly to his right and faced the owner of the voice, a medium-sized gray-haired man wearing a three-piece suit. Then he realized for the first time there were others in the room, a dozen maybe, but they were all dressed in white lab coats. And Davey sensed there were even more manning the mindless machines behind him.
Consciousness snapped all the way back home, and he found his arms and head were covered with probes attached to wires running to the various machines, especially on his skull. There must have been fifty wires running in a crown from his forehead, down his temples to his chin, and then around back and up, finishing eventually at the machines to his rear.
“Please don’t jar the wires,” came another voice from beside him, one that Davey recognized.
He turned ever so cautiously to find the stocky, bald man who had spent so much time hovering over him in the room they had put him in. The nameless bald man stuck his hands in the pockets of his white lab coat.
“Ready whenever you are, Colonel,” he said to the one in the three-piece suit who, Davey saw, was holding a small black box about the size of a transistor radio in his hand.
His mind cleared further and a picture of Joshua Bane filled it.
Help, Josh, help!..
“Power surge just registered,” from a voice behind him.
“Vitals fluctuating,” from another.
Davey watched the one called Colonel smile slightly and move his thumb just a bit. The boy then felt a jolt to his groin that nearly lifted him off the chair, as if someone was yanking him by the balls. His teeth smacked together and his breath left him in a rush. He felt his legs shaking and couldn’t stop them; then he tasted blood and realized a few of his front teeth must have pierced his tongue. The horribly corrosive smell of burnt plastic reached his nostrils, and he noticed for the first time a pair of thick wires running from under his white hospital nightshirt. He shifted his unsteady legs just a bit, felt a slight pull in his groin, and knew then where the wires were attached.
“Pain is a great persuader, boy,” said the man holding the box. “It provides control.”
Davey narrowed his eyes at the one called Colonel, feeling that hate surge through him and spill over. The man’s face was still fixed in a slight smile, the black box an extension of his fingers. Well, Davey could show him.
He started to push for The Chill.
“All levels rising,” a voice sounded.
“Extreme power surge registered,” from another right after.
Chilgers’ head for a brief instant felt as though someone had stuck it in a vise. He found the red button just in time.