Saturday, November 29, 2008

The World Entire: Chapter 9: The First Domino

Eschatology is the study of the end of the world. The nature of the end differs among religions. Most major religions predict a catastrophic destruction of mankind and a physical or figurative burning of the Earth. Mysticism believes that reality will simply dissolve away and our souls will be reunited with the Divine. It is often portrayed so frighteningly that most would assume that it is a disaster that should be averted. But some believe that it is merely an inevitable destination, a metaphysical manifestation of times of change. Regardless, both sides of the debate would agree on one thing: one must prepare, physically, mentally, and spiritually. But that begs the question, why haven’t we already started?

: : :

Nathan Petrelli
The Oval Office
Washington, D.C.

Nathan sat at his desk, reading through yet another Synthetic ability registration act. This was the fourth one to land on his desk, each one written in less threatening language than the last. This one at least made it clear that the information would not be public knowledge but rather kept in a secure database for government and law enforcement on a need-to-know basis.

A secure database that could no doubt be easily accessible to the hundreds or thousands of technopaths and digital communicators and everyday hackers. There was no telling the number of people who could get in. If only there were a list of people with abilities, Nathan thought traitorously.

There was a knock on the door and a secret service agent let in a woman.

And there she was: long blond hair, a statuesque figure, wearing her typical skirt suit with pearls, and a womanly smile. “Hey, baby, how are you?” She admired her image in the numerous family photos around the room.

Nathan remained aloof, “I’m well, and you?”

She sauntered over to his desk, sitting on it, “C’mon, the world’s not gonna end today. Why don’t you show a girl a good time?” She hopped into his lap and rubbed his arm sensuously.

“No thank you, Barbara,”

Barbara’s face fell. Verflixt, how’d you know? I even wore pearls and suppressed my accent. Is it because I forgot those sunglasses she’s in love with? Or maybe it’s because of those couple of pounds she can’t get off.” Barbara rubbed her midriff enticingly.

“My wife is beautiful as she is.”

“Then you gotta admit I’m beautiful, too.”

Tracy has the added beauty of not hitting on married men.”

Blödsinn, she bumste that senator that got you this job for over a year.”

Nathan’s hand tightened. “My wife fell in love with me and she has not looked at another man since. So, how’d you trick the telepath into letting you through?”

“I thought Tracy thoughts. I thought, ‘Gee, my husband sure is a cutie, but he doesn’t hold a candle to that hot black bodyguard he’s got. Oh, shit, I think he’s the one who could read minds. Think clean thoughts.’ Then I proceeded to think very dirty thoughts about said agent. Let me right in.”

“And he’s fired.”

“Alas, I may have to console him. The humanitarian that I am. Is the Lincoln Bedroom open?”

“Out.”

“You know where to find me. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you spent all that time at Pinehearst just because you wanna see me. You know, you’re two for three with us. I figured you’d want to go for the Triple Crown. Or maybe you already have.” She winked at him.

“It’s been great chatting with you, Barbie.”

“Don’t care me ‘Barbie’,” Barbara hissed.

Nathan noticed that the room began spinning rapidly. All at once, he felt an intense sense of vertigo. He gripped his desk to maintain balance as the colors of the room oversaturated. The light from the windows became blinding. He closed his eyes, the feeling not fleeting, and began to concentrate.

Tracy toppled over and suddenly screamed. Hurensohn! Nathan, I was gonna stop soon. You know that it whiplashes me when you fight back.”

Groaning, Nathan commented, “Why else would I do it?”

“Well, have fun screwing with the free world. I’ve got work to do.”

As Barbara left, a tall, African man walked in before the door could close.

“Mr. Usutu, what is it?”

“I’m sorry to interrupt, Mr. President. You have to see this.” He held up a picture of a nuclear explosion.

“I’m getting really tired of pictures like that. Where is it?”

“I saw other buildings. They look like mosques. It was desert.”

“The Middle East.”

Iran, maybe. Or Syria. That would be my guess, sir.”

“It’s funny. I find myself hoping that they’re actually nuclear bombs, rather than the alternative. Well, Usutu, look like we’re making history.”

: : :

Susan Amman
Cooper University Medical Center
Camden, New Jersey
1973

Alice Lartier lay back on the examination table as Dr. Amman pulled an ultrasound machine over. Amman was a tall woman, beautiful, with strong features and long, blonde hair, perfectly styled. Unlike her, 23-year-old Alice was of medium height, with jet black hair that she could never get to sit right. With two bare fingers, AmmanAlice’s stomach. rubbed the ice-cold gel on

“Shouldn’t you be wearing gloves?” Alice asked.

“Typically I would, but with what we’ll be doing today, I need all the dexterity I can manage. No worries, I washed my hands twice. I’m more sanitized them some surgeons.” Pressing the transducer probe to Alice’s stomach, she pointed to the screen. “You see that pocket there? That’s where we’ll be implanting the embryos.”

“Are you sure this is safe? I’ve been doing research. The first time they ever tried this was less than a year ago in Australia. It didn’t take with that woman.”

Amman smiled comfortingly. “This is not Australia. And one year is a lot for medical science. Look, I’ve explained the procedure. We’ll implant four of your fertilized eggs into your uterus. And if we’re lucky, one of them will take. If not, then you’re not out anything. Your procedure was paid for by a generous benefactor in Nevada. You can continue to try with your husband if it fails.”

Alice nodded nervously.

“Okay. Now I’m going to bring in a college of mine. His name is Dr. Zimmerman. He’ll be implanting the embryos vaginally.”

“He? A man…?” Alice asked, crossing her legs.

“Unfortunately, he’s the only doctor in the region will any expertise in this field. I assure you he’s a complete professional. He’s happily married with a four-year-old son.”

Amman invited a man in from the door. He was a kindly-looking man with wire-rim glasses and wavy brown hair. He greeted her in a warm, German accent. “Shall we get down to business, yes?”

Amman sat down beside Alice and gave her a forced smile, “I’m going to be here throughout the procedure. I’ll be holding onto your stomach to keep you still.” She immediately laid her hands on Alice’s stomach, with the probe in one hand, and turned her head to watch the ultrasound monitor.

Dr. Zimmerman brought out a device, which looked like a cross between a hose and turkey baster; it looked too long for its purpose. Alice tilted her head back and tried her best to see the far wall. She began trying to read the diplomas on the wall up-side-down. She felt Zimmerman spread her legs, reach below her gown, insert the device, and after some words exchanged between him and Amman that Alice didn’t catch, he removed it after only a few moments.

“Dere, not so bad, yes?” Zimmerman asked.

Alice agreed sincerely. Amman pointed to the screen. “See that?”

Alice saw but one bubble-looking object on the black-and-white screen. Amman kept her hands on Alice’s belly. She watched as the single dot seemed to connect with some cove-shaped indention in the walls of her uterus.

“I only see one embryo.” Alice commented.

Amman, who didn’t pull her eyes away from the monitor, replied distantly, “The others are on top of one another or out of focuse. We’re just seeing a 3D space projected onto a 2D field.” She concentrated on her hands for a moment. Suddenly, on screen, the single bubble seemed to split into three.

“Are the cells dividing?”

Amman replied, against distantly as she watched the screen, “No, the embryos are already multi-celled. It looks like the blastocysts are clumped together.”

“Did it work?”

Noncommittally, Amman answered, “It looks promising, but we won’t know for a few days where they successfully implanted.” She finally looked back at Alice. “You sit tight. Let the embryos settle. I need to speak with Dr. Zimmerman in private for a few moments.”

Amman led her colleague out.

“What told her was pure Blödsinn… rubbish.”

“It sounded good enough if she does amateur research.”

“Dere are three?” he asked.

“I’ve only done twins before. Three’s as many as I’m willing to risk.”

“No, no, it is fine. And dey will be identical?”

“Every time I’ve done it before, the children have looked identical. Same blood type. Same eye color. Same food allergies. Same hereditary conditions. So unless they come up with a way to compare two people’s DNA, I can’t say for sure.”

“And dey will be special? As you are?”

“I got the eggs from… a human with abilities, yes. You’re the one who’s done all the research on inheritance.”

“I ‘ave just done the reading about it. Dere is a doctor in India with some very promising results.” Zimmerman looked into the room. “Will she not be surprised when she is discovering that she is to have three babies?”

“I would bet so.”

“What will happen to ‘er?”

“Unfortunately, I don’t know if she’ll survive the labor. She’ll need a C-section and with her blood condition… well, it’ll be a tragedy.”

“And dee babies?”

“One will go to our generous and clueless benefactor in Las Vegas, Mr. Sanders. One will go to Senator Strauss for his legal protection. And the third, we’ll let you keep.”

“Vhat? Himmelherrgott!

“Talk it over with Anna. I’m sure she’d love a little girl.”

“You know dat dey are female already?”

Amman nodded. “This ain’t my first rodeo, pardner.”

“I do not know what dis means.”

Amman just laughed. “Congratulations. We’re making history.”

: : :

Peter and Matt
Mohinder’s Lab
Brooklyn, New York
2011

Peter and Matt appeared in Mohinder’s lab just in time to see some sort of snake creature in front of Molly. Matt raced to her side, using his ability to mentally attack the creature. He grabbed his daughter and pulled her away as Peter sped in front of the creature and lit up his hand with blue flame to threaten the creature. The snake being merely leapt up and hung to the wall.

“Peter, no! It’s Mohinder!”

Peter looked up. Mohinder leapt from the wall, somersaulting and landing flat on his feet. Getting a closer look, he was floored.

His eyes had yellowed and his pupils had merged into slits. His hair was gone. His back and the outsides of his arms were covered in large, flared scales. The scales were even more pronounced on his hands, completely covering them.

“Your hair!” was Molly’s only comment. “It was so pretty and curly and black.”

Mohinder laughed at that. It was the first time he’d laughed in a very long time.

“Look, buddy,” Matt commented, “sorry I didn’t recognize you. You could have told me this is why you didn’t want to get back in Molly’s life.”

“I was an arrogant fool. I thought I could…”

Peter touched Mohinder’s shoulder. “Mohinder, I get it. Look, Synthetic abilities, they’re going to cause problems.” He pointed to the floor, at Isaac Mendez’s rendition of New York being blown up. “This would be a house fire compared to what’s going to happen if we don’t find away to remove people’s abilities. Look, you were this close to solving it. Maybe you can make an antidote.”

Matt added, “You could even fix yourself. I know it’s what you’re thinking about.”

Mohinder proclaimed, “It’s not that easy. I got the formula wrong and see what it did to me. Even if I were to create an antidote, how could I test if it worked?”

“We’ll find volunteers. Or recruits,” Peter suggested, “Or you can experiment on me if it comes to that.”

“It’d be better if I had access to the right formula.”

“If I could do that,” Peter stated, “could you produce the antidote?”

“Theoretically, yes, but that still doesn’t solve the problem of distribution. People aren’t going to volunteer to have their abilities removed. And Pinehearst, the maker of the shots, owns the Presidency, meaning we can’t go through the government.”

“Then that’s a problem we’ll have to solve later,” Peter stated, “But now, I’ve got to go get you that formula.” He turned to Matt’s daughter. “Molly, I need a favor from you.” Peter went to the computer.

“I don’t think it works anymore. And there’s no electricity here.”

“Not a problem.” Peter yanked the cord from the floor and held it in one hand and laid the other against the computer’s tower. The computer booted up quickly.

“Can you find me him?” Peter remarked about the picture on screen.

“Get me a map. A world map,” Molly replied.

: : :

Lyle and Monica
Primatech Medical Facility
New Orleans, Louisiana
2011

Lyle Bennet lay in a hospital bed, unconscious. Beside him, an IV fed him a blood transfusion.

“What’s the deal?” Monica Dawson asked her supervisor, Amy Carlson.

Carlson replied, “We didn’t have any natural blood on us. It’s a Synthetic’s.”

“Then he’s gonna scar over.”

“He’s gonna live.”

“How long’s he gonna be like this?” Monica asked.

“It’s going to be a few days before he recovers. You know Synthetic bloods slower.”

“But there’s going to be lasting damage?”

“The screw pierced a lung. A couple of years ago, he wouldn’t have survived the trip to the hospital. Now, all he’ll experience is some chest pain. For a few months, he’ll have minor breath issues. The scar, of course. I wouldn’t recommend too much running in his future.”

Aghast, Monica commented, “He’s an agent. He’s eighteen. You can’t tell him not to run.”

“You’re taking this hard.”

“Read my file. Somewhere between being a big sister and raising my brother after my mom died in Katrina and then raising my cousin when he mom died and… I don’t like it when people get hurt on my watch.”

“And that’s what makes you the best agent in our division. C’mon, Dawson, I’ve got a job for you. I need you to train the new guy.”

Nodding, Monica followed her boss out of the room.

Meanwhile, a figure with a gun eased the window open into Lyle’s room.

: : :

Cris and Doug
Downtown Los Angeles, California

The car that pulled up didn’t look like a cop car to Cris and Doug. The four people who got out certainly weren’t dressed like street cops. They wore suits. Two of them, the brown-haired woman and the blond guy, hid behind their doors and pulled out pistols. The other two, a tallish dark-haired man and a petite blond woman, boldly approached the two. They obviously had no idea what they were getting themselves into.


Director's Commentary: Adrian Pasdar told me that he was jealous of all the fun his castmates seemed to be having on my web series, and wanted to know why Nathan wasn't more involved, and I told him I'd gladly bring implement Nathan's storyline, which otherwise would have happened off-screen. Also, Ali, clearly board with playing one part again, came back as Barbara Zimmerman.

Written and Directed by Christopher VanDrey

Sendhil Ramamurthy ... Mohinder Suresh

Hayden Panettiere ... Claire Bennet

Greg Grunberg ... Matt Parkman

Adrian Pasdar ... Nathan Petrelli

Milo Ventimiglia ... Peter Petrelli

Ali Larter ... Barbara Zimmerman

Adair Tishler ... Molly Walker

Randall Bentley ... Lyle Bennet

Dana Davis ... Monica Dawson

Ntare Guma Mbaho Mwine ... Usutu

Marissa Jaret Winokur ... Amy Carlson

Ronald Guttman ... Dr. Zimmerman

Jonathan Chase ... Cris

Jesse Boyd ... Doug

J. August Richards ... Telepathic Secret Service Agent

Julie Benz ... Susan Amman

Monica May ... Alice Lartier

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