Chapter 60 (1/2)

”Are you sure that you made yourself sane, uh, again?” Dan queried incredulously, interrupting Marcus's story. The pair had moved away from the laboratory, and into what passed for the station's mess hall.

”Don't be ridiculous, Daniel,” Marcus scoffed. ”I have been meddling with my own mind for decades! It's just a little bit of brain surgery; no need to get your panties in a bunch!”

”That explains quite a bit, actually” Dan muttered to himself. Louder, he asked, ”So you edited your own memories to prove that the Gap changes according to perception?”

”No,” Marcus denied, drawing out the word. ”I edited my memory as a matter of course. That it helped me develop a working theory was a happy coincidence.”

Dan sighed into his hands. ”Of course.”

Marcus nodded with affirmation. ”Indeed! Now, as I was saying—”

”No.” Dan held up his hand. ”It's fine. I don't want to hear any more of the insanity that you've engaged in.”

”Everything I do is perfectly safe,” Marcus protested vehemently.

”Fine,” Dan agreed, rubbing his brow. ”I don't need to hear about the perfectly safe insanity that you've engaged in. You say you've figured out how the Gap works? Okay. I believe you. I'm happy that you're happy.”

”Well, that's... good to hear.” Marcus sounded bewildered that Dan wasn't interested in the gritty details of his experiments. The odds of the old man creating conflicting personalities within himself just to argue against rose higher in Dan's mind.

”Your message said that you needed my help with something, and that you could help me in return. So. I've got some questions for you.” Dan reached into his pocket, and pulled out a folded slip of paper. He opened it, and squinted down at Abby's handwriting. ”Let's start with an easy one. How long have you been bugging me?”

Marcus blinked in confusion. ”Well that's awfully subjective, Daniel, but I suppose I could make the case that I've bugged you for as long as we've known each other.” He paused, lost in thought. ”Though that could serve as an excellent question for confirming one's identity in case of a shapeshifter or robotic replacement. Well done, Daniel.”

Dan reeled back. ”Is that likely!?” He paused, then shook his head. ”Nevermind. I don't wanna know. And you know that's not what I was asking.”

Marcus spread his hands helplessly. ”What is it that you want me to say, Daniel? Of course I've been monitoring you. With your tendency to blunder into high-risk situations, I assumed that I'd need to mount a rescue at some point in the future.”

”Your concern is overwhelming,” Dan said dryly. ”How are you keeping track of me?”

Marcus stared at him in bewilderment. ”You have a mobile phone, Daniel. One that I gave you. It has GPS tracking.” He shrugged. ”I ping your location every now and then, to make sure you aren't locked up somewhere.”

Dan slowly processed this.

”I'm an idiot,” he groaned to himself.

”Frequently,” Marcus agreed with enthusiasm.

Dan ignored the man, instead asking, ”So I guess you've been monitoring my phone calls as well?” What few he had made. Dan preferred face to face conversations, and his power generally made that desire trivial to achieve. He felt pleased at the idea that his habits might have limited Marcus's snooping.

But the old man looked disgusted. ”I am not a voyeur, Daniel! I do not need to know what sort of vulgarity you children engage in these days!”

Dan flushed. ”That's not the point! And phones have microphones! I don't want you spying on my conversations!”

”I have far more interesting ways to spend my time, Daniel, than monitoring your social activity,” Marcus remarked, scuffing his nails against his lab coat.

”The timing of your text was remarkably on point,” Dan replied, narrowing his eyes. ”I find it odd that the moment I mentioned to Abby that I'd be asking for your help, you send me a message offering your help!”

Marcus brightened, looking immensely pleased. ”Truly? That is exceptional timing! Were you my enemy, I would certainly claim credit for that coincidence, but as we are friends, I shall not.”

”How'd you know I needed your help?” Dan demanded, caught off-guard by the constant denials.

Marcus sighed in grandfatherly disappointment. ”When do you not need my help, Daniel?”

The problem with befriending a mad scientist, Daniel realized, was that you could never tell where appropriate caution ended and paranoia began. He was all but convinced that Marcus had a computer laying around somewhere, devoted entirely to recording every interaction that Daniel ever held. On the other hand, the old man sounded entirely genuine in his claims that he had better things to do than spy on Dan.

Which probably meant that the computer existed, but Marcus hadn't had the time to go through it yet. Fine. Dan could deal with that.

He bit down his urge to scream. ”Be right back.”

With a blink of his eyes, he appeared inside his old quarters. Dan scooped up the melted collar off his cot, blinked again, and reappeared in front of Marcus. He twirled the chunk of metal, sending it clattering onto the counter.

Marcus eyed it with curiosity at first, but his brow furrowed as he took a closer look. The old scientist pulled a pen out of his front pocket, and used the tip of it to spin the broken device in a slow circle. He hummed to himself, hooking one of the prongs and drawing the collar closer. Broken pieces of internal circuitry poked out of the cracks in the metal, and the scientist examined them with a gimlet eye.

”What a malevolent little thing,” Marcus murmured. ”Where did you find it, Daniel?”

”Inside a tree,” Daniel summarized simply, ”on the border of what was suspected to be a villain attack. Whoever, whatever, melted that collar also burned down a couple hundred thousand acres of forest a few years back. It's still hot, Marcus.”

The scientist pressed the back of his hand against the deformed section of the collar, quickly pulling it away with a hiss. ”So it is. Interesting.”

Dan waited, but no further comment was made. Marcus continued to curiously prod at the collar, hemming and hawing under his breath.

”Well?” Dan demanded impatiently.

Marcus's gaze swiveled to him. ”Well what? I only just started my investigation. I haven't even taken it apart yet!”

Dan slumped. ”So you don't know what it is?”

”As hard as it is to believe, I do not know everything,” Marcus replied acidly. Dan raised both hands apologetically, and Marcus huffed. After a moment, he added, ”Though I can guess the purpose to this device.”

”It's a torture collar,” Dan informed him. ”I know that already. One of my police contacts has seen one before. A villain used it during a kidnapping.” He paused. ”Didn't work too well, apparently. The officer that it was used on was too stubborn to feel pain.”

”That is remarkable, all things considered,” Marcus acknowledged, still staring at the collar. ”This device appears to directly stimulate the spinal nerves. The pain would have been immense. That said, causing pain is merely what it does. Its purpose, I suspect, is to induce power growth.”

”What.” Dan's voice was flat. That almost sounded like a good thing. ”You're telling me that this is some kind of benevolent torture collar?”

”No, no, of course not,” Marcus replied, waving off Dan's question. ”I'm certain that whoever was subjected to this was quite unwilling. Regardless, the method might actually be effective, given what I've learned about powers. Desperation is a powerful motivator indeed.”