Wednesday, June 2^nd, 1999
^{New York Downtown Hospital
New York City…}

     The teenager’s eyes opened and a hospital room slid into focus.  Warm sunlight filtered in from the window, warming his legs and arms beneath the blanket over his body.  He glanced towards the window, staring at the World Trade Center to the west.  The twin towers stood majestically over all the buildings between here and there.  

A voice came from just beyond the door to the hospital room, powerful, baritone and aloof. “The boy came out of his coma last night.  But he hasn’t yet regained consciousness.”  The man’s tone was smooth but with a bite, like aged whiskey poured from fine oak barrels.  

“Forgive my ignorance,” said another masculine voice, adding, “But how do we know he’s out of his coma if he has yet to wake?  I need details so that my report is accurate.” 

The first man sighed with a hint of frustration. “Mister Vei, he began talking in his sleep in the coma ward.  We ran an MRI, a CAT scan, and we see significant brain activity.”

“And the cancer?”

“Our young John Doe is still in remission.  I think he warrants further study.  I was reviewing a blood sample and noticed something beautifully different about the DNA sequence.  And to top it all off, his telomeres appear to remain nearly the same during mitosis.” 

“Immortal cells?”

“Not exactly.  With the help of a microscope more powerful than what was available to the hospital, I determined that his telomeres do decrease in size, but on a level so trivial that I think it’s safe to alert the Esoteric Council and confirm our previous suspicions.”

“I’m glad you called me, Doctor.” 

“That wasn’t why I called you, Mister Vei.  I believe that there has been a development.  I’ll need you to make the necessary arrangements to put the boy into my custody.  I want him moved to my new laboratory in California.  Construction should be complete by the end of the week.”  

“Thank you, Doctor Falcon.  I’ll submit my report to the council members and I’ll see what I can do about the boy.  No family members have stepped forward, after all.  And if they haven’t by now, then it’s doubtful any ever will.  What have you learned?”

“I assume you’ve read my file notes?” asked Doctor Falcon.

“Yes. I was surprised to read such… that a nurse had a song stuck in her head; the boy sung it aloud in his sleep.”

“He vocalized some of my thoughts aloud as well,” said the doctor.

“I see.” There was a brief silence then the second man said, “I’ll contact the council concerning your request.”  

“I’m glad we’re on the same page, Darius.  I think we’re on a first name basis by now, after all.” 

“Very well, Aris.  Take care.”  From the doorway, the teenager could see a man in a vest, tie and fashionable eyeglasses.  Darius Vei turned away and disappeared.  

The doctor was tall but looked fairly normal – lab coat, tongue depressors in his breast pocket, and a stethoscope around his neck.  He reached for the door and pulled it shut.  

The teenaged boy reached for a remote on the side of his bed and turned on the TV mounted to a shelf bolted into the wall.  The television hummed to life, sound coming before the image appeared.  An anchorwoman’s voice came over the speaker built into the remote attached to his bed.  

“…And so far, we know the pilot was killed instantly.  It is now believed that more than five passengers were killed, and possibly as many as nine.  The names of the casualties have been withheld for the time being until families and next of kin can be notified.  The storms passing over the Midwest are…” The image began to come to life on the television set as it warmed up.  

“I used to love flying,” said a woman from off to the left. 

The boy looked up at her, but she wasn’t a nurse.  She appeared to be about his age, with long blond hair, a blouse to cover her voluptuous figure, and a knee-length skirt.  She had green eyes and a matching designer handbag on her shoulder.  “But for the last two years, I get headaches and feel sick when I fly.  Not sure why.  I’m Karla Chintzy by the way.  What’s your name, hon?” 

“I…” he paused then frowned thoughtfully.  “This is going to sound really cliché but… I don’t recall.”  

“Not surprising, actually.  Have you seen your file?  You’ve been through one hell of an ordeal.”  She moved towards the bed, sashaying her hips with a confident feminine stride.  Karla dropped down onto a chair near the bed then leaned forward and touched the ‘mute’ button on the remote.  “Little Rock has been in the news all night.  Well, on CNN at least.  It’s depressing.  Don’t watch the news; life is depressing enough without pondering other people’s problems.”  She withdrew a folder from her handbag and passed it to him.  “We’re going to need a nickname for you until you remember your name.  Considering all you’ve been through, let’s call you Chance.  Because, after all, ‘Fate’ is a girl’s name.” She gave his leg a gentle pat, then smoothed a fabric dune in the blanket.   

“You’re a really pretty girl,” he said.  The words sounded foreign to him but the tone felt somewhat familiar.  

“Aw, thanks.  You’re a sweet boy, Chance.”  She paused then lowered her gaze; he pulled his boyish hands from beneath the blanket and held them in the sunlight.  He turned them over in the morning light.  She reached for his right hand and ran her thumb over his knuckles.  “Sunlight feels good, huh?” 

“Yeah.  It feels weird.  But good.”  He trailed off then added, “Warm.” 

“Do you remember my name?” 

“Karla Chintzy,” he said. 

She smiled.  “Good.  Jamais vu is a bitch but at least you don’t appear to have anterograde amnesia.  It’s a start.  We should get out of here.  Maybe if we start connecting some dots, we can help you figure things out.” 

“I… shouldn’t I stay with the hospital?  I mean, I’m sure they know how to handle this sort of thing.” 

“Oh, honey.” Karla caressed his cheek with a sympathetic smile.  “You have no idea what kind of crazy stuff is about to blow up today, dollface.  I’ll get a wheelchair.  Trust me, hon, you won’t be able to walk very well right away.”  She glanced back at the window for a moment then said, “Actually, maybe you will with my help.  Truth be told, we’re running out of time.  YiaYia said you’d wake up just as Falcon left your room.  She’s right on the money with her prophecies.  I’ll answer most of your questions as best I’m able, okay?  But first, we’ve got to go.” 

“I…” he looked Karla over, not sure if he trusted her because of her charisma and appearance, or because of something else.  “Don’t take this the wrong way… but you just… ooze sexuality.  So, I guess I’m choosing you over the tall doctor with the creepy demeanor.”  

Karla grinned and held her hand up, expectantly.  He looked at her for a moment then capitulated to a high-five.  She captured his hand and brought his knuckles to her lips then stood up.  “What can I say?  I’m a Scorpio, babe.  And you have a lot to learn.”  

Ever so gingerly, she drew back the tape on the backside of his hand then removed the IV.  She used a bit of the original dressing to catch any blood that trickled from his skin.  “I’m trying to be gentle.” 

“Don’t feel a thing,” he said.  “Except warmth from the sunlight.  That doesn’t seem normal, right?” 

“God only knows with all that you’ve been through.  You might want to catch up on that file once we’re out of here.  Hell of a page-turner.”  She placed her hands on his hips and helped him to the edge of the bed then she guided him to his feet on the floor.  

Chance wobbled and put his hands on her shoulders for support.  “God, what’s wrong with me?” 

“Long story short, you were in a coma since December.  The woman who pulled you from the wreckage said you were unconscious right off the bat.  Nice lady.  She’s now pregnant with twins.  You’ll meet her soon enough.  Hell, I hope I look as good as her if I ever get knocked up.  She’s got the ass of a goddess.”  

Chance bit his lower lip but didn’t reply. 

Karla withdrew sweatpants and a plain white T-shirt from her handbag and smiled.  “You’re not shy are you?  Because you’re going to need help putting on pants, considering you haven’t walked in six months.” 

“God.” He blinked then slumped back onto the bed.  “Standing up gave me a head rush.”  He ran his fingers back through his hair then paused, feeling a scar on the back of his scalp.  “That’s not… I don’t think that’s right.  I feel a bump back here.”  

Karla guided him back down to the edge of his bed.  She ran her fingers through his hair.  “Yeah.  That’s probably where they did the surgery.  Boy, we need to get you a haircut, and you need to shave that peach fuzz off your face.  Then you’ll be right as rain.”  

“Surgery?” 

“It’s in your file, hon.” 

“How about the Cliffnotes version?” 

She offered a wan smile.  “When you were brought in from the car accident, you were a John Doe.  Technically, you still are.  You were unconscious, in a coma.  Massive head trauma.  They ran tests.  You know, MRI’s and stuff like that.  They found that you had a tumor in your head, along with swelling from the accident.  Cancer or something.  They opened you up, operated, and put you on chemotherapy.  According to your file, you’re officially in remission.  Apparently you were undiagnosed based on your blood counts.  So.  The car accident that should have killed you, by chance, saved your life.” 

“Talk about irony.” 

“Exactly my thoughts.  Cool beans, though, right?  Now you can log into AOL and brag to a survivor chatroom that you beat cancer in your sleep.”  She helped him take off the thin hospital gown.  She began to work the sweatpants up his legs.  “Sorry I didn’t bring any undies.  Guess you’re going commando today.” 

Chance blushed furiously.  He licked his lips several times then swallowed.  “I wish I had money so I could at least buy you dinner first.” 

Karla broke into silvery peels of effeminate laughter.  “Cute!  I like your pickup line.  It’s much better than any of mine.” 

“I… wasn’t trying to…” He licked his lips again then asked, “What’s your pickup line?” 

“If I really want to drag a guy home, I just ask, ‘Hey, can you tell me if this napkin smells like Chloroform?’  It’s a little off-cuff, but it works every time.  Well, you know, when they wake up.”  She offered a lame grin then helped him with the shirt.  “We should hit the road.  We’re out of time.”  

“For what?”  He tucked the file folder under his arm and slid off the bed.  

The door at the end of the room opened.  The man in the vest and necktie stepped through the door and shut it behind himself.  He withdrew a silenced pistol then froze.  “Karla?  What’re you doing here?”  

“Darius Charles Vei.  What’re you doing here, muffin?” Karla’s palms incandesced with vibrant pink glyphs that appeared skin-deep.  She waved her left hand.  A telekinetic blast knocked the pistol away.  It clattered on the floor tiles.  She waved her other hand back, as if swatting flies.  The gun skittered across the floor and came to rest beneath her left heel.  “Sorry, Charlie.  It’s mine, now.”  

“You’re interfering with official Esoteric Council business, demon. According to his file, when he spoke in his sleep last night, he was reciting aloud the thoughts of any lucid mundane that came in proximity of him.  Telepathy is forbidden.  He’s going to need surgery to cure it. 

Karla’s eyes widened then narrowed.  “You don’t just cure someone of that.  No one even knows what part of the brain controls it.  You’re not giving this boy a goddamned forty caliber lobotomy, Darius.  And Falcon isn’t taking him for study, either.” 

“Don’t be a bitch.  How’d you even know to get involved?” 

“Oh, bitch.”  Karla tittered with delight.  “It’s even hotter when you say it out of bed, Dee.  YiaYia told Methos.  They called me because I’m the Tits McGee.” She brought her hands to her bust, as if to give her breast a jiggle, then said, “I’ve got your gun, hon.  That’s a shame, too, because I hear the EC doesn’t tolerate screw-ups.”  She held her hand aloft and the weapon sprung up off the floor.  The handle met her palm with a satisfying clap.  

The demoness pointed the weapon at Darius and smiled.  “What were you thinking?  Bringing a gun to a supernatural fight…? Seriously?” 

“I was here for the boy.”  In a softer tone, he asked, “This isn’t going to complicate things between us, is it?” 

“Yeah, probably.”  She pulled the trigger.  The gun bucked with an obnoxious staccato click.  The bullet passed through the flash suppressor then stopped an inch from his forehead.  With a wave of her free hand, she took control of the round then moved it to his left temple.  “Should I go in this way?” She moved the bullet to his chest, above his heart.  “Or how about here?”  She paused, as if contemplating, then said, “No… I’m thinking here.”  The bullet lowered.  It came to levitate above his crotch.  “Because this is all you care about.  But I know better than to let feelings get in the way of sex.  And that’s all it is to you, because if you felt anything, you’d have been helping me instead of standing in my way.  Thanks for clearing that up for me.”  She dropped her hand to her side.  The bullet fell to the floor.  “You can make it up to me by taking a seat.  Put the news on.  They’re showing more footage about that crash in Little Rock from last night.”  She put the pistol into her purse. 

“Karla…  Telepathy is strictly forbidden.  You know how the Esoteric Council feels about people who can read the thoughts of others.  It’s an invasion of privacy on the deepest level.  No one has the maturity to handle that sort of burden.”  

Chance bit his lower lip then slid of the bed.  His legs warbled beneath him.  He put his hands on the mattress to steady himself.  “I don’t know you pal, but so far as I’m concerned… you’re officially one of the bad guys.  Screw you.”  

“Karla,” said Darius with a glower, “if you help him, I cannot help you.  The council does not want to risk anyone studying this boy’s ability.  Telepathy is the rarest of all abilities and thankfully so.  It’s exceptionally dangerous.  I’m not the bad guy, here.  I’m acting on behalf of everyone else.” 

The demoness furrowed her brows. “Save your sob story for the crybaby concert they’re going to throw in your benefit at Madison Square.  And I don’t need your help with the EC.  To hell with them.” 

“Jesus.  Karla, you’re in over your head.  What do you think you’re going to do with this boy?  You know I have to put the council’s needs first.” 

She offered a dull glare then rolled her eyes.  “I’m taking the boy and we’re leaving.  Heh.  Good luck with your insomnia, Darius.”  She waved her hand at him.  Vei flew back against the wall, pinned to it.  “Oh, and don’t get jealous.  But I’ve already seen this kid naked.  He’s twice your size.”  She hooked her arm beneath Chance’s waist and buried her shoulder into his armpit then helped him hobble out of the room.  She shut the door behind herself then waved her hand, breaking the knob off on both sides of the door.  

“What, uh… was that all about?” asked Chance.  

“I’m a succubus,” she explained.  “I’ve been holding back on my feedings for that guy.  And how does he repay me?  He points a gun in my face just now.  Chalk it up to another failed attempt at finding romance.  I swear.  I don’t know why I try.”  

“Oh…” 

Karla put her hand on his hip then focused the energy of her telekinesis into his legs.  She kept her hand on his waist so that no one would notice the glowing side effect of her ability.  Meanwhile, the channeled energy helped him to walk, legs empowered by telekinetic amplification.  

“God,” said Chance under his breath, “Walking suddenly just became a lot easier.”  

“Yeah.  You’re welcome.  It’s temporary and draining for me.  Let’s hurry the hell out of here before we see any of his goons.  Darius is pretty influential.  I’m willing to wager he brought a few buddies to help him out.”  

“So super powers are real?  Why don’t we have any superheroes then?” 

“Keep your voice down,” she said with a dry grin.  “You’re as bad as me.  And to answer your question, it’s because the Esoteric Community disallows people to use their abilities in public.  It catches the ever-watching eye of Big Brother.  That’s a huge faux pas, because the public spotlight will get you killed faster than you can say, ‘Diana and Dodi.’  Know what I mean?” 

“Who?” 

“Oh, yeah.  Right.  Amnesia.  Heh.  Forgot.”  Karla laughed at her own pun then said, “Just come with me.  I’ll introduce you to my friend, Methos.”  

Chance walked with her.  They got onto an elevator.  The doors slid shut with a thump and it lowered to the ground floor.  “Wait, your friend is named after a character in Highlander?” 

“God, you don’t remember your name, or Princess Di from two years ago, but you remember Peter Wingfield’s character?” 

“I… guess.  You remember characters by their actor?” asked Chance with a wince as they hobbled off the elevator together.  

“Of course.  He’s Welsh.  We were both born in Cardiff.  And no, hon; as you’ve probably noticed, I don’t talk with the dialect.” 

“Why? British girls are hot.” 

“Yeah, yeah.  Back when I moved here, it attracted unwanted attention.” She gave him a playful swat on the rump then walked him through the lobby and out to the parking garage.  “You up for a road trip?  We’re going to take I-80 straight across the country.  I promise, you’ll have the time of your life, babe.”  

“I can hardly wait.”  He suddenly reached a hand for Karla.  His wrist brushed across the swell of her bosom.  He shoved her to the left, between two cars.  A muffled gunshot rang out, followed by the clang of a bullet striking a nearby automobile.  

Karla groaned in frustration.  “More badguys with more silencers.  Ah well.  Welcome to New York, baby!  This is where it gets interesting.” 

“How… how did I know to do that?  I… I just…” 

“Telepathy, remember?”  She peered up over the hood of a vehicle then ducked back down.  “You perceived that we were in someone’s crosshairs.  Impressive, considering today is your first time using it.  The rental car is three lanes down.  The white Cavalier with the scuff marks.  Are you ready to make a run for it, gimpy?” 

“I don’t know if I can run.  Legs feel like Jell-O.”  

The succubus sighed and asked, “Do you trust me?” 

“I… I don’t even know you.  But sure, why not?” He flinched at another clap of a bullet hitting something nearby. 

“I’ve got another ability…”

“Yeah? Will it help us?” 

“Maybe.” She frowned thoughtfully then flinched at the sound of another round striking something metal. “I’m still working out the kinks… but I’m out of options, so let’s give it a shot.  Here we go.”  She tensed up and they both disappeared.  

Karla and Chance reappeared sitting inside the Chevy Cavalier. She groaned softly, as though having a headache.  “God that’s draining with people.  It’s much easier with objects.”  She wearily put a key into the ignition and the engine turned over.  “Time to go West, young man.”  She floored the accelerator and the car pulled out of its spot.  The squealing tires echoed inside the parking garage.  

“Wait, Karla…”  

“What?” 

A man came up from the backseat and put two handguns against the backsides of both their hands.  Chance licked his lips nervously and cleared his throat.  “Uh… that, I guess.  Sorry.  I’m not very good at this whole thing yet.  Now what?” 

“Now you drive,” said the man in the backseat.  “We’re taking you before the council, kid.  The EC will determine what to do with you.”  

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