Chapter 17 (1/2)

Two days passed incredibly quickly. Dan had spent most of them simply relaxing and decompressing with his friends. Mercury had been right about at least one thing: Dan needed some time to process things. His words and resolutions had been said on an impulse, but Dan couldn't find it in himself to take them back. He wanted to make a difference in the world.

So before he even knew it, the time had come. Dan found himself outside of Mercury's lab clutching a box of homemade oatmeal cookies. He was dressed in gym shorts and a form-fitting microfiber shirt, clothing that Abby had basically forced upon him, in preparation for whatever the doctor had planned for him. Dan had seen the doctor's old training room, filled with dust and elaborate machines, on his very first day. He expected a great deal of physical activity.

Dan's friends had not been particularly worried by his decision to train with Marcus. Both Margaret and Abby knew, in vague terms, that the old man was the primary investor in Dan's courier business and an old friend. Both of those things were technically true, if a bit literal and misleading.

Still, Dan felt a little robbed that he hadn't milked much sympathy out of his friends. They just couldn't understand why Dan was so nervous. It was difficult to convey Mercury's shadiness without meeting him in person. As far as Abby and Margaret were concerned, the doctor was doing Dan a favor. Hence the cookies.

And now Dan was stalling. He stared at the sealed metal door. Another step forward and the motion sensors lining the frame would pick him up. The door would open, fwoosh, and Dan would be able to see whatever the doctor had prepared for him. He just had to step forward.

Just one step.

Often one's imagination would build up an object of fear into something far mightier, far more imposing, than it could possibly be. It was normal, natural, just another expression of mankind's fear of the unknown. This was not Dan's failing. Dan was not afraid of the awful scenarios that his imagination whispered to him. There was no point in that.

Because he was quite certain that Mercury's imagination could trump his own any day of the week and twice on Sundays.

Which was the problem, really. But he'd made it this far, what was one more step? Dan squared his shoulders, straightened his back, and took a step forward.

Fwoosh.

The door opened, revealing the doctor's lab. Immediately, Dan felt like he'd stepped into the Twilight Zone. The room was, while not clean, at least orderly. The tables had been pushed to the sides of the room and the scattered pieces of scratch paper had been separated into neat piles. The floor was clean of debris and liquid, and shined like it was new. In the center of the room, the doctor kneeled next to a bizarre machine.

At first glance it resembled an electric adjustable bed, the kind that you might find at a hospital. It was made mostly of steel; a long, flat, segmented frame that held a cheap, thin mattress. Its legs, all four of them, were thick and bolted to the floor. At that point, the similarities started to fade.

A pair of oversized electrical cables were plugged into the base of the bed, each as thick as Dan's arm. They drew their power from a massive generator tucked away in the corner of the lab. Beneath the bed, where a motor would normally be placed to control the movement of the frame, was a glass cylinder filled with a frothing golden liquid.

Over the top of the bed, suspended from the ceiling by thin wires, hovered a brass circlet. The delicate piece of jewelry looked comically undersized compared to the steel contraption beneath it. The circlet was positioned above where a person's head would rest if they were laying prone on the bed.

Marcus grunted from his place next to the bed, ”You're early.”

Dan carefully hid his surprise. His dallying outside of the door had actually made him late by several minutes. It was probably best not to mention that.

”Sorry,” he replied instead. ”Nerves, I guess.”

”Well if you're here you might as well help.” Mercury motioned him over impatiently.

Oddly enough, Dan felt comforted by the gruff demeanour. The doctor appeared to be taking things seriously. Dan strolled across the room cautiously, half expecting the floor to drop out from under him. He wouldn't put it past Marcus to rig some sort of surprise to test Dan's situational awareness. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, nothing happened. Dan's movement went uncontested and he arrived beside the old man.

”Hold this,” Mercury demanded, barely sparing him a glance. The doctor busily shoved a tray of syringes into Dan's chest, sending him staggering back a step. The doctor's other hand disappeared the box of cookies.

”Where the hell were you hiding these,” Dan muttered incredulously.

Marcus ignored him in favor of producing a drill motor from somewhere within his lab coat. Several screws were rapidly tightened around the cylinder filled with golden liquid. Marcus tapped on the glass a few times.

Tink tink tink.

Small pockets of air bubbled to the top, moving through the liquid like molasses.

”It has been a quite a few years since I've made this stuff,” Marcus remarked absently.

Tink tink tink.

More air bubbled up from the bottom of the container.

”What is it?” Dan asked, eyeing the brew with distaste.

”A paralytic, among other things,” Marcus replied. ”For you.”

Dan closed his eyes and breathed out slowly. ”Why would I need a paralytic?”

Marcus shrugged. ”For your own safety.”

Dan tapped his foot against the ground impatiently. He was wise to the man's game by now, and Dan wasn't going to humor him by getting annoyed. That would just encourage him.

Marcus hummed to himself, squinting down at the liquid for a few more seconds. At last he stood up, stretching out his back with a series of horrifying pops.

After a contented sigh, the doctor turned to Dan. ”Here's what's going to happen. I'm going to put you into a simulation of the aftermath of a major villain attack as a crisis volunteer. You'll experience it as if you're there, but I'll be giving you instructions all the way through.”

Dan frowned. ”I'm not sure I follow.”

Mercury rolled his eyes. He jabbed a bony hand towards the bed, where the brass circlet dangled.

”That's a Neuralyzer. I designed it.”

”Please tell me it won't erase my memory,” Dan interrupted urgently.

Marcus scowled. ”It lets me show you things that aren't actually there. We're gonna use it to throw you into the deep end of the pool.”