Exposure

‘It’s nothing’ Dr Lachlan declared, after examining me. ‘Just a cold. One of the staff must have brought the germs in.’ Her nose crinkled. She looked around the sanitary, white interior of my bunker, evidently irritated that the outside world had managed to penetrate the place. ‘You’re getting fat, though. Ted’s been giving you sweets again, hasn’t he?’ I said nothing, and avoided her gaze.

She sniffed and looked around the room. There wasn’t much to see: a desk with a couple of exercise books and pens, a neatly ordered bookshelf, an armchair with a coffee table, on which was a stack of magazines and a chess set, and the bed, which I was sitting on.

She noticed the book next to me. ‘What are you reading?’

‘It’s–it’s called The Rain Wizard. It’s a great fantasy adventure–‘

‘Fantasy. Wonderful. Wizards turning people into toads. Just the kind of nonsense a twelve year old boy needs to read.’ I wanted to protest that nobody had been turned into a toad in the story, nor was this a particular trope of the fantasy genre, as far as I could tell. But I didn’t. I just looked at my toes. ‘I’ll have Ted–Mr Washington—bring in some more science textbooks. They’ll be immeasurably more useful to your education.’

When I didn’t respond, she stood up and walked across the room, heels clacking on the laminate floor. She pressed the screen next to the exit, and a red line circled around her fingerprint. When the circle closed, the line turned green, and the chrome door slid open. She turned her head, her brown eyes boring into me, face unreadable. Then she stepped through, and the door slid shut behind her.

Ted limped in at 13:00 sharp, as was his habit. From my seat on the armchair, I looked at the contents of his trolley and saw that my lunch today was a bland, brown-bread sandwich, with an even blander side salad. Doctor’s orders, no doubt. Ted set the food on my desk. On the trolley’s lower shelf was a newspaper, or, at least, a few pages of one. I rarely got the full paper. There were also some dog-eared A4 textbooks.

‘Ooh, what wonderful treats you’ve brought me’ I commented. Ted was the only person I dared to use sarcasm with.

The old man chuckled and looked at me. ‘Now, now, Dr Lachlan’s just trying her best to make you into a well-rounded person.’ His Geordie accent was soothing.

‘Actually, she seemed quite keen on making me less round this morning.’ I glanced down at my belly. ‘Anyway, I think a well-rounded person is one who’s seen more of the world than four white walls.’

Ted looked at me sympathetically ‘I only wish you could. But the doctor knows best–any exposure to the sun could seriously harm you.’

‘But why can’t I at least go out at night?’

Ted shook his head sadly ‘I’m sorry, but if the doctor says it’s too risky, then it is.’

I beat the arm of my chair in frustration. ‘Enough of that,’ Ted said. ‘Come and eat your lunch, and then we can have a game of chess.’

When Ted was gone, I flicked through the newspaper. An article caught my eye ‘Atalanta Tunstall Returns Triumphant’. I skimmed the text, and read of how the ‘great explorer’ was back on earth, having been tremendously helpful in establishing the first permanent settlement on Mars. I hadn’t seen my auntie in years. She would drop by, I was sure of it.

The next couple of days were spent impatiently awaiting my aunt. I finished The Rain Wizard and flicked through the science textbooks a little. The contents of these didn’t really interest me, however, and between looking at them I entertained myself with a collection of detective short stories.

Finally, the day came. Dr Lachlan ushered my aunt in. As ever I was struck by her presence; she exuded an aura of vigour and vitality as she strode into the room, a rucksack slung over one shoulder. She wore jeans and a t-shirt, and the outlines of her lean, practical muscles were clearly visible, from her shoulders to her calves. Her brown hair was loosely tied back from her ruddy face.

One look in her grey eyes was enough to know that they had seen things few others had: from the depths of the Mariana Trench to the baking surface of Venus. When those eyes met mine, they scarcely concealed their disappointment.

Dr. Lachlan had brought in a couple of folding chairs, so the adults sat in these, while I was in my armchair. I was excited to hear of my aunt’s adventures, so after some stilted small talk, I asked about Mars. The details of her travels, and the alien landscape of the planet, fascinated me, though the minutiae of making the place habitable went far over my head.

My enthusiasm for adventure, albeit in a vicarious fashion, gave me a genuine connection with my aunt, and made the conversation last for a good hour. By this point I was desperate for the toilet, and had to excuse myself and hurry over to my little ensuite.

Almost as soon as I closed the door, the two of them started talking in low voices. I urinated against the porcelain and strained my ears to catch the conversation.

‘He looks horribly unhealthy.’

‘You know how it is.’ Lachlan sniffed ‘It’s not safe to let him outside for exercise, and this place was converted for emergency use in the Second Cold War. It was never meant for housing somebody permanently.’

‘You could at least provide him with something to exercise with in here. A swingball or something? Get him a yoga mat and a training programme as well.’

‘I’ll see what we can do.’

I flushed the toilet, washed my hands, and re-entered the room.

‘Well, lovely to see you. I must be off.’ My aunt got up and gave me a brief hug. ‘I brought a little present for you, by the way.’ She produced a cardboard box from her rucksack, handed it to me, and then strode over to the door. Dr Lachlan touched her finger to the sensor, and the two of them were gone.

My present was a little drone, shaped to simulate a spacecraft. I tore the box open, excited: this was one of the few pieces of technology I had ever had access to. I read through the instructions and soon had it up and flying around my room. Not for the first time, I imagined myself as a real astronaut. I drifted into a daydream, and wasn’t concentrating on the drone. It was in the process of ascending and smashed into one of the mercury vapour lamps on the ceiling, hitting the outer casing.

The cracking sound of breaking glass shocked me to my senses and I brought the drone down. Fragments of glass dropped with it. I hovered the drone back over to me and stashed it away in its box, which I hid under the bed. Pressing the communication button beside my bed, I asked for someone to come and repair the light, though I noticed the inner bulb was still shining.

While I waited for someone to arrive, I grabbed the dustpan and brush from under the sink in my ensuite and started sweeping up. Crouching under the naked light, I felt a strange warmth suffusing my body, and the blood pulsing through my veins.

The pieces of the casing were scattered all over. If only there were a couple of big pieces, instead of so many small ones. I concentrated on trying to find the bits of glass.

As if responding to my desires, little fragments lifted from their positions on the floor and converged over the dustpan, where they fused together into an awkward glass sculpture, before dropping neatly down. I blinked in confusion. The pieces separated once again, but they were all in the dustpan.

What had just happened? I felt a surge of something within me, waiting to be released. It felt as though it would explode out of me. Unconsciously, in an attempt to restrain whatever it was, I held my breath. I passed out.

I woke up in my bed, with Dr Lachlan seated on a folding chair beside me. Rolling over, I saw that there was a plastic beaker of water on my bedside table. I drank the water in one long gulp. Gradually, I came to a state of awareness.

‘How long was I out for?’ I asked.

‘Just a couple of minutes. The cleaner and I moved you to your bed so we could sort the mess out.’

‘I don’t understand what happened…’

‘You had a nasty reaction to the type of light that was exposed when you broke the bulb.’ I quailed under Lachlan’s stare. A quick glance around showed that the light had been removed, and the room was now lit by a lamp on my desk, and another by the armchair. Lachlan noticed me looking; ‘we’re going to replace the main bulb with something safer. The electrics in here were prehistoric.’

A thought came to me. ‘S-Something strange happened when I was cleaning up the glass. It was like it moved–moved itself–’

Lachlan cut me off. ‘Absolute nonsense. The light must have affected your brain.’ Her sniff of disapproval brooked no argument. She stood up, and her chair scraped against the floor. ‘I’ll leave you to recover.’

I tried to buckle down to reading my detective stories, but couldn’t concentrate, and threw the book down in frustration. I got up and paced the room. Something in my conversation with Dr Lachlan seemed off. She had shut me down completely when I had tried to explain about the glass. And she’d left in a hurry, without even making a big deal out of the fact that I’d smashed the light.

My thoughts turned to my ‘condition’: the reason I had been locked in this bunker all my life, with just books for company. All I knew was that exposure to sunlight, and even starlight, was dangerous to me. In theory, though, I should have been able to travel in covered vehicles, or be allowed out on a cloudy night. Whenever I asked, I was told it was too risky. The safest place for me was the bunker, where there were experts to care for me.

Lachlan wouldn’t tell me the specifics of my ‘condition’, but I’d paid enough attention to the science textbooks she forced on me to have a working idea. Ultraviolet light, I thought, was probably the concern. Presumably the ceiling light produced some of this when its outer layer was broken. I thought back to the sensation of power I’d felt under its glare. I wondered if the effects of the light had made me pass out, or if it was my own reaction to the unfamiliar sensation.

I thought of the fragmented glass which had seemingly responded to my will. Finally, I wondered about Lachlan, and the others who kept me in this bunker. They had always claimed to be scared for me if I was exposed to the outside world. What if they weren’t scared for me? What if they were scared of me?

By the time Ted came with my evening meal, I had a plan. ‘Would you be able to get something for me?’

‘Sure.’

I showed him an advertisement in the paper for a ‘CSI kit’. He looked at me with a curious expression. ‘I’ve been reading all about detectives recently,’ I said.

‘Okay, I’ll see what I can do.’

‘Thanks. And, er, could you not tell the doctor. I don’t think she’s too keen on me having toys.’ I looked meaningfully at the empty space where the light used to be.

Ted gave me another long look, and seemed to come to a decision. He gave a slight nod.

A couple of days later, Ted brought the CSI kit in with my breakfast.

‘Thank you so much.’

‘You’re welcome. Be sensible with this one.’

When he was gone, I opened the box and took out the contents. He must have been good to his word, and not told Lachlan, because it was all there: a magnifying glass, some plaster of Paris and moulds, some colourful powder, a brush for fingerprints. And a little UV ‘blacklight’.

Over the course of that day, I experimented with the light. I found that UV was, indeed, the stimulant for my ‘condition’. Instead of being harmful to me, though, it had astonishing effects.

I had to shine it directly onto my skin for what seemed like forever before I felt a fraction of the sensation which I had got under the bigger light. But I got there eventually. Then, by focusing all of my attention on one of the pens on my desk, I managed to lift it with my mind. As soon as my concentration broke, it clattered back down.

Through a continuous process of recharging and experimenting, I worked out the limits of my power. I was eventually able to telekinetically move my pen in complex ways, and even write with it without touching it. I could also transform the pen into another object of the same size, as long as I could picture it: a paintbrush, for example. As soon as my concentration broke, or I ran out of power, it would revert to its original form.

By charging myself for longer, I could transform larger objects. I made my armchair into a gold throne, and held it in shape long enough to sit down on it. The effort of doing so, however, exhausted me. Luckily, when my power ran out, I found myself in a soft and comfy seat.

I could also change objects into things of a smaller size: for instance, I transformed my desk into a medieval knight’s shield. Doing so created a loud bang, like an explosion. I decided not to experiment too much with this shrinking effect, in case someone came to investigate. Also, I felt especially tired when such objects reverted to their original size.

Though I was buzzing with excitement, I forced myself to rest that evening. I made sure to finish my evening meal, and get extra food. Then I slept, as well as I could.

The next day, shortly after breakfast, it was show time. I spent the best part of an hour exposing various sections of my skin to the UV light. Then I took the fingerprint dusting kit over to the sensor at the door. I dusted and got the clear outline of Lachlan’s print.

Focusing my mind, I telekinetically lifted the contours from the device, placing them on my own forefinger, and reshaping it so that it was an exact replica of Lachlan’s. I pressed my finger to the sensor. The red line formed its circle, and turned green. The door opened. For the first time in my life, I was out of the bunker.

Outside my room was a mercury vapour bulb. Keeping part of my mind focused on holding my finger in shape, I concentrated on the bulb just hard enough to break the outer shell. I felt a surge of power as I absorbed more UV light.

A dull, concrete corridor led off to my left. In front of me was an elevator. I pressed the ‘down’ arrow and waited for the lift to come to me. It arrived, and the doors opened. I stepped in. There was a fingerprint sensor here as well. I pressed it. The doors closed, and I was moving upwards, an alien sensation which made me feel queasy.

I arrived in another corridor, which I followed to a sliding door. This opened with a press of Lachlan’s fingerprint. I felt a rush of power, and saw real sunlight for the first time, thorough a glass door ahead of me. I walked towards it. To my left, behind a clear screen, I noticed a middle aged man gaping in awe. He fumbled with something in front of him.

The clacking of high heels sounded behind me, and I turned to see Dr Lachlan. ‘Stop!’ Her usual calm had deserted her. ‘Do you have any idea what you’re doing?’

I looked at her, and focused. There was a loud bang and the doctor disappeared. In her place, a toad croaked angrily from the floor.

I strode out into the real world.