The boy strapped to the chair screamed, his voice echoing around the stone walls. The people standing around the scientist in the white coat winced, although the scientist herself watched the scene unfold before her without a flinch.
The electrodes around the boy's head flashed different colours. The metal strap around his skull crackled with electricity. Pulses of light danced along the plastic tubes attached to the electrodes from the large whirring machine in the middle. Numbers and jargon jumped all over the screen in sequences that only the scientist seemed to understand.
The teens standing around her shuffled, not knowing what to do. They jumped when the subject screamed again, thrashing against his restraints.
"The sound too much for you to bear?" said the scientist, unsympathetic, not giving them a single look.
She ran her tongue over her teeth, tapping a finger against her forearm. The light pulses increased in frequency. The charts on the machine's screen jumped higher and higher; adjacent to it, an energy bar filled over seconds. Adjusting a few dials, she hummed to herself when the boy screamed again.
"I don't like the cacophony much, either, but if I sedate them I can't get the full potential. That'll be a waste."
After a few minutes, the noise stopped. The boy appeared to have lost all of his will to protest. Instead, he convulsed on the operating table, straining against his ties. When the energy bar filled to full, he slumped, his eyes rolling in his head. His arms and legs jerked. Saliva dribbled out of his mouth.
"Put him away," she said in a snappy voice. The door slid open. A sharp smell of singed body hair wafted over. Three of the teens jumped to it, shoving gloves and thick coats on before hurrying into the experiment room. Between them, they dragged the unconscious, semi-naked boy into the next room.
The scientist slid into her pod chair and it took her to the large computer. Multiple screens took up most of the wall. An elongated touch keyboard stretched before her, with numbers and dials at either end. On one screen, a three-dimensional computer-generated model of the boy was conjured, spinning slowly on his feet. Statistics and measurements popped up around him, describing his physical build and relevance to his ability. A long list of words scrolled down the next screen.
She appeared to know exactly what the computer was reporting. Muttering to herself, she typed with fervour. The other teens fidgeted, looking at each other and darting nervous looks at her. They seemed to have a burning question, but none of them had the courage to speak up.
Sounds of struggle and yells emanated from next door. A few minutes later, the three boys from earlier stumbled back through the experiment room into the computer chamber. Two of them sported superficial gashes across their faces and one had lost a glove. Something large rammed against the closed door beyond the experiment room, claws scrabbling against the metal and growling with fury.
A few of the spectators threw frightened glances at the door. Others gazed with expectation at the scientist, who hummed to herself again as she scrutinised the computer report.
"Ah."
All of them looked at her with renewed interest.
"Yes, this boy yielded a lot more than the last one. I need more like him."
"He's ranked fifteen in the city, leader," said one of the boys. "It was really difficult acquiring him. I'm not sure we have many more of his calibre – not easily."
"Why the hell do you think I implant these things into you lot for?" she snapped. "I'm granting you great power, and you're complaining still you're too weak?"
"N-no."
"Well, you will get me some, then. These experiments can't go on if I don't have any ingredients. And you do want to grow stronger?"
"With all my heart, leader."
"Good. Now get in there."
"Olix, are you sure?" whispered one of his companions. The first boy stepped forward and gave the speaker a disdainful backwards look.
"What do you think we're here for? Cheerleading?"
"F-for the greater good."
"Exactly. And think of all the powers we'll gain! The risk is worth it!"
He marched forward into the adjacent room.
"Bute, the Jumper," said the scientist, tapping a finger against her chin. Her sharp eyes ran over the numbers one more time before administering further instructions.
Two teens followed the first boy into the adjacent room, which was decorated the same way as the experiment room, except the walls were reinforced with shock-absorbing polymers and energy-diverting metals and a steel chair stood in the middle instead of a table. Behind reinforced glass panels, Olix allowed himself be strapped in, his hands gripping the handles of the chair so tight his knuckles turned white. He gasped when the teens put the helmet on his head; the protruding sharp probes on the inside pierced his skull, inserting directly into his brain. The metal absorbed his blood, ensuring good immediate contact with tissue.
Olix gritted his teeth, his face turning white. The other two put observation stickers on his chest, wrists and ankles. His breathing had turned shallow, eyes darting from the pensive faces through the glass.
The two finished their handiwork and retreated. The door slid shut.
The scientist met Olix's eyes. With a gulp, he nodded, clenching his jaw.
She typed in the instructions. With a few bleeps, a new bar chart appeared on one of the monitors. The boy's heart trace appeared on the adjacent one, followed by numbers about his heart rate, blood pressure, and other stats. A brain trace appeared on the third monitor.
When the scientist was satisfied everything was in order, she initiated the experiment.
The initial filled bar extracted from Bute the Jumper began to deplete. It dropped by one unit after a few minutes. Sweat poured down Olix's face, but he stared with grim determination ahead, adamant on not showing fear. His comrades watched, anxious.
The scientist typed in more instructions. With a few bleeps, the depletion increased. The boy's heart rate shot up to one hundred and fifty per minute. His blood pressure then skyrocketed, the heart trace and brain trace becoming erratic. Before them, the boy arched his back, his mouth opened in a silent scream. His feet kicked uselessly on the ground. The chair remained bolted to the floor.
The ability bar was beyond halfway now. The boy continued to convulse in silence. A few of the spectators looked away, gnawing at their finger nails. The scientist watched, impassive, as though she were watching a television show. The screen showed his heart rate continuing to increase to almost two hundred. His blood pressure was through the roof. The traces were so wild the screen could barely contain its ups and downs.
A few of the teens looked expectant, excited, but the rest just clutched each other, their faces white as sheets. The scientist stood up when the bar expired, her arms still crossed over her chest. A bead of sweat ran down the side of her hairline.
His shoulders heaving, Olix slowly straightened his back. His hair was matted, shiny with sweat. When he looked up, his eyes shone. A grin stretched from ear to ear.
Without a sound, he vanished from the chair.
A gasp came from the teens as he materialised again beside the chair, smirking. He flickered across the inside of the protected room, marvelling at his own newly-acquired ability. One moment he'd be on the roof, swinging on the reinforced steel. The next moment he'd bounce off the hard glass and somersault across mid-air, only to reappear on the chair again, reclining like a king.
The group behind the scientists whooped and cheered, waving their hands.
The scientist's expression didn't change. Her eyes skimmed the reading on the screen. Her hands flew across the keyboard. Suddenly, she frowned, bending over and peering at some of the readings.
"Damn you..." she muttered. Her fingers continued to dance across the keyboard.
Without warning, Olix vanished.
An explosion of light blinded all of the watching teens. No sound came from the room still. The watchers shielded their faces, yelling in shock. The light continued for a good ten seconds, a violent blend of white and yellow, interspersed with crimson. The scientist stared at the monitor, an exasperated expression on her face. The readings flickered, like a broadcast experiencing interference, and then completely flat-lined.
"No!" shrieked the boy who had last spoken to Olix. "No! Olix!"
"He's gone," said another. "Like the others last week."
"But Olix—!"
"—was a failure," said the scientist in a quiet voice. Tears sprang into the boy's eyes, but she didn't give him a second glance. She studied the readings again and sighed. "He had an energy surge, just like all the others. The transplant is too unstable."
"But it worked for some of us," said one of the boys. "There must be something different in us that wasn't in Olix and the others. That's why our powers didn't surge."
"It hasn't surged yet." She turned to face them. The teens shook. "It is all an eventuality unless there's some way to stabilise the surges. The powers are replicated – your body wasn't biologically created to cope with them."
She sighed again, turning around and facing her readings. She brought up another screen, and then pushed her glasses further up her nose. One side showed all the successful transplants. The other showed all the failures. The lists were almost equally long. There was no discernible pattern between the two cohorts. It was very much a puzzle.
"The research has reached a stagnant point." She was talking to herself at that point. "The surges have no outlet, so they're exploding. I need something to conduct that energy away, or to store it to be discharged safely. Otherwise, the outcome will all be the same..."
"You need something to conduct the energy to disperse it?"
"Yes, something like that," she said, deep in thought. "A superconductor of some sort will do, but the city won't sanction unauthorised use of superconductors and I don't have the resources to produce my own, perhaps..."
"I know something that can help."
She looked up, an eyebrow raised. The speaker had spiky hair all across his head and a nervous disposition.
"I'm listening."
"Th—there's a girl in the city. She can conduct energy."
"Oh?" His words piqued the scientist's interest. She unfolded her arms, tilting her head.
"I—I've seen her do it. In exams. She's able to conduct billions of joules of energy without a scratch. She's ranked third in March City. Maybe she can help your experiment."
"A human superconductor, eh? That's certainly very interesting. Yes, bring her in at the next available opportunity. She may be the key to allowing this experiment to move ahead. I want a look at her."
"Dude," said a girl next to him, her eyes going round at his words. "You can't be talking about...?"
"Yeah," said the spiky-haired boy. "Ari, The Transformer."
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