NOVEL NEXT Chapter 12: Masks
Max Tennyson was walking down the runway toward the plumbing ship. A few meters away, he saw Chief Mechanic Dankker coming down the boarding ramp of the spaceship, with a handkerchief, drying the sweat from his forehead.
"Magistrate Tennyson!" The mechanic was looking for a pocket to keep his handkerchief, but when he realized that they were all occupied with some tool or snack for later, he gave up and decided to continue with the wipe in hand. "Everything is ready for the trip: tank filled up, hyperspace system checked, and water in the windshield wipers. Just start up and go!"
"Thanks a lot, Dankker!" Max said smiling "I apologize for having to arrange everything at such short notice..."
"No problem, Magistrate, it's my job!"
"Anyway, thanks, I owe you one."
Max climbed the boarding ramp carrying only a handbag. As he was about to close the boarding door, the chief mechanic called his attention and said:
"Everything will be fine, Max, don't worry. We'll take care of him. "
Without smiling, Grandpa Max nodded his head in affirmative and stared at the floor of the ship as the boarding door closed.
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The spacecraft had just left the Earth's atmosphere and was heading off into the dark infinitude of space.
Max, dressed in his plumbers' spacesuit, was checking the conditions and data displayed on the ship's panels. Sometimes, a certain point in the trajectory needed to be corrected, but other than this, the spacecraft traveled smoothly, with everything operating according to plan.
He activated the ship's autopilot and prepared to load hyperspace. Even with faster-than-light speed, the trip could last a few days. He got up from the pilot's chair and walked through the corridors of the ship. It was a small size ship, supporting about five crew members, but at the moment only Max was in the middle of it.
Alone.
Just him and his thoughts.
His damned thoughts.
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Max was in pain. A throbbing pain was spreading through the back of his head. Darkness. Slowly, he managed to open a gap between his eyelids. Pain. His body slumped sitting on the warehouse floor. His head was throbbing.
A crate crashed into the wall beside him. What was that! Alert eyes tried to comprehend the blurred images struggling to form in his vision. More pain.
Max felt as if a shockwave pushed his body against the wall. A yellow electric beam hit the floor beside him. His vision was beginning to acquire minimal definition. Something orange... A rush of ideas came over his mind. For a few moments he couldn't tell who it was or where he was. Again another shockwave came over him.
I can't breathe.
Somehow his brain was no longer able to transmit nerve impulses and his diaphragm became paralyzed. Just as suddenly, breathing returned. The image in front of him was beginning to take on meaning...
Ben...
Max struggles to get up. With his hand resting on the ground, he tried to overcome the gravity that at that moment resembled that of Jupiter. He tried at the same time to stay upright and to remain fixed on the ground so as not to be carried away by the whirlwind of objects flying around.
Ben!
He looked at his grandson in his cerebrocrustacean form at the epicenter of the chaos, without any control of his powers. Guilt. An opening in one of the back walls of the warehouse allowed more light to enter the room. The ceiling was beginning to crack, and in some places part of the structure was beginning to give way. He needed to do something. He wanted to shout his grandson's name in the vain hope of being heard, but at that moment his brain didn't know how to speak anymore.
It didn't know what to do. On his side, the rifle was dangling from the diagonal strap. There was no other way...
He picked up the rifle.
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Max turned a corner in the hallway and stopped in front of the door to his dormitory, which opened automatically as he approached. The place, once occupied by beds and a few closets, was now lined with medical equipment from floor to ceiling. All automated and connected to the spaceship's artificial intelligence system.
Thanks again, Dankker, he thought.
Of course he was not fully recovered, but he needed to go after Azmuth. He needed to get the Omnitrix out of Ben's arm. And how to do this while still recovering? Simple: by collecting all the outstanding favors possible and breaking about twenty-three articles of conduct of the Plumber's Code.
Suddenly, the silence was covered by the computerized voice from the ship:
"Hyperspace charged, Magistrate. Activate hyperspace?"
"Is there any pendency that limits activation?" Max always found it awkward to respond to artificial intelligence from ships. It's awkward talking to something you can't see yourself.
"No, Magistrate."
"You can activate."
"Activating hyperspace."
A high-pitched sound spread throughout the ship. Through the window, what were once fixed points of phantom glows now became horizontal lines with no sign of beginning or end. A slight jolt indicated that the ship had just entered hyperspace. Now it was just a matter of waiting.
"Hyperspace activated," said the computerized voice. "Destination: Galvan Prime. Estimated time: 64 Earth hours."
"Right. Thank you comput-"
Max's headache came back on. It wasn't the first time it had happened, and it wouldn't be the last if he didn't get proper treatment, according to his doctor. "Two weeks in a suspension chamber, with medication to stop the progression of the injury, in continuous infusion." Max's counterproposal was, "How much of the treatment can I do with medical equipment from our spacecraft?"
The pain lasted seconds, but it felt like hours. The positive point is that just as suddenly as the pain appeared, it also disappeared. The negative point: sooner or later it would come back.
Max took off the rough part of his uniform and sat down on the hospital bed prepared exclusively for him. Automated arms came out of the walls and began to move around him, preparing the medical equipment and drugs needed for treatment. The accelerated and absurdly coordinated behavior of the mechanical arms brought his mind back to the entrance of the Eastern Power Sector.
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Max was carrying Ben in his arms and running through the corridors of the Power Sector. As soon as he spotted the Plumber ambulances parked at the entrance, he ran towards the vehicles and began to call out:
"Medic! I need a medic!"
A paramedic walked away from a patient who was being put into one of the ambulances. She indicated that they could leave without her and ran towards Max and Ben.
"What happened!" The paramedic motioned with her hand for a stretcher for one of the nurses.
"I-I don't know," Max carefully placed Ben on the stretcher. "He was having trouble with the Omnitrix and seems to have lost control with one of his transformations."
The paramedic looked confused at Max. What on earth was he talking about? She turned her gaze back to the unconscious young man; at first she didn't recognize him, but when she saw the watch with the Plumber symbol on its handle, it all made sense:
"This is Ben Tennyson!?"
"Exactly," answered Max.
Suddenly, the unconscious Ben began to move his body again. Not with coordinated movements like a "wave hello" with his hand or a "thumbs-up", but with disconnected movements, as if all the muscles were being contracted in a disorganized manner, causing him to shake and sway on the stretcher.
"He's convulsing! Jackson, help me turn him over," said the paramedic to an assistant.
Max remained paralyzed. He knew what to do, he knew the basics of first aid, but at that moment, in that instant, he couldn't move a single muscle.
The teenager's body was rocking with a force that Max never imagined his grandson would have, the nurses and paramedic were trying to keep him on his side until the crisis passed. Suddenly, Ben's arms folded over his chest and his legs were fully extended, with his head bowed back.
"Hold him down, I'll get the sedative!" she ran to one of the vehicles. She returned from inside the ambulance in a matter of seconds with a syringe pulling the liquid from inside a glass.
As soon as she injected the medication, Ben's body slowly came out of a state of complete contraction and adopted a relaxed posture, remaining unconscious. The nurse placed the balloon mask over the young's face and offered him oxygen while he carried the patient to the ambulance.
"Let's get him to the Plumber's Medical Ward," the paramedic said, as if pulling Max out of a trance. "You may accompany the ambulance if you wish. By the way, sir..."
"Tennyson. Max Tennyson."
"Pleasure to meet you, Magistrate. Dr. Espinoza. Don't worry, we'll take care of him..."
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The sharp pain of the needle piercing his skin made Max leave his memories where they belonged.
"Magistrate, we are ready to begin treatment." said the ship.
"Right." Max lay down on the bed and stared at the dormitory lamp on the ceiling that stood out from the makeshift medical room.
"During the treatment, you will be given a small dose of sedative. This way, you will sleep-"
"No. No sedative."
"But magistrate, according to protocol, the treatment demands a long period of rest, you will not be able to move. If you sleep, the time will pass more quickly."
"That is not necessary. You can start the treatment."
"Sir, I'm sorry, but I must insist that-"
"Without. Sedative."
"Right, Magistrate. Starting infusion."
A mechanical arm supports an oxygen mask over Max's face.
He remains awake throughout.
Alone.
Just him and his thoughts.
His damned thoughts.