Chapter 1

Cold. So cold. Was this what it felt like to die? Damon didn't want to go like this, without even the chance to fight back--and for what? His father's defiance of foreign corporate raiders?

It can't end like this. he thought, struggling to breathe. Suddenly, he was enveloped in a blindingly white light. He felt himself rising, and soon he was floating in a pillar of light, surrounded by darkness. A being appeared, looking like someone had tried to make a centaur out of a Predator hunter and an ankylosaurus, and the resulting creature had broken free and helped itself to an extra pair of arms, better claws and a scorpion's tail. The creature spoke, or at least that's what Damon presumed it was doing, as it arranged a series of screeches, growls, hisses and caws into some sort of pattern. Damon felt far too weak to try to figure it out. Another creature Damon couldn't see handed the first one a black tablet-like object, and the creature repeated its noises. Sounds approximating English words soon emanated from loudspeakers around the room.

"You are dying, Earthling. While you are in that light, the process of your termination is suspended, but you are able to think, and we can monitor your thoughts."

What is it you want? Damon thought. The creature "spoke" into its tablet again.

"The situation is as follows: A member of an enemy species has altered a member of your species and given him powers above and beyond those of mainline Earthlings, including the ability to grant similar powers to others. We have no choice but to consider this a covert operation against us. The organization we created within the your government as a countermeasure against such acts has failed to deal with the threat."

What does any of this have to do with me?

"Impatient."

Guilty as charged. Being about to die kind of does that.

"We offer you a chance to continue existing. Correction: To begin a new, better existence. We will repair that perforated body your mind inhabits, and enhance it, giving you powers comparable to those possessed by the enemy combatants. We do not care how you use them, so long as you also use them to terminate the enemy forces on your world. Do you accept?"

It's not like I have anything to lose. Fine.

"Excellent." the creature said. It made a gesture, and blackness took the place of the world.

Damon became aware of his surroundings once more by small increments. He sat up, still wearing his bloody, bullet-riddled shirt.

It wasn't a dream. he thought sadly. He gradually became aware of the other minds in his apartment building. His neighbors, his landlord, people on the street; their minds were like open books to him. He got up and threw his shirt in the trash on his way to the refrigerator, contracting his awareness so that the other minds outside weren't buzzing in his head like conversations in a gymnasium anymore. The refrigerator flew open at his will, and as soon as he decided he wanted it, a slice of pizza floated out. He grabbed it out of the air and began to eat. Stuffed Crust Meat Lover's with extra cheese, his father's favorite.

My father. he thought. He remembered overhearing his parents talking when they thought he and his siblings were asleep. His father had exposed the efforts of a Japanese company to blackmail his boss into selling his majority shares to them. Something about drugs and pictures and underage prostitutes. A few days later, masked men in suits had raided the company picnic, targeting his family first before starting on everyone else. The searing invasion of bullets into his body was as fresh in his memory as if it were happening now. The sight of his mother's lifeless eyes as she lay beside him filled him with a burning rage. Anything in the apartment that wasn't nailed down trembled as if it shared his anger. He forced the rage away, focusing instead on getting used to his new power. He found he could focus his perceptions so that he could examine a grain of salt at the molecular level, and manipulate it according to his will. It worked better the closer he was to whatever he was messing with. Somehow, he knew almost instinctively what to do as soon as he knew what he wanted.

His senses alerted him to the approach of police officers down on the sidewalk. A little prying, and he knew that they had found the bodies of his entire family, but not him, yet his signature was on the guest register. That made him a suspect if found alive. They had a warrant to search the place. They needed only to speak with the landlord to get a key.

Damon looked at himself in a mirror. He would be recognized anywhere around here. He needed a new face. Just like that, his face began to reshape itself, his round chin becoming tapered and triangular, his broken nose straightening and flaring, his skin color darkening to a rich tan, his hair lightening from black to red with blond highlights. He changed his eyes from blue to black and made his muscles more defined, redirecting mass from his fat cells and any extra skin from the transformation from fat to more-dense muscle in the process. He left via the fire escape, jumping down into the alley and slowing his descent with force of will as he approached the ground.

He walked into the dollar store and sent out a mental command for everyone to leave. Disabling the cameras was as simple as pulling the plugs, and then he was free to roam at will. He grabbed an impudent T-shirt, some cheap blue jeans and Velcro sneakers. He also grabbed a backpack from the school supplies section and filled it with food--not exactly conforming to the good old food pyramid, but edible and palatable. His old clothes he tossed in the dumpster out back and set on fire by speeding up the molecules. He increased the power of the fire until he sensed someone coming to investigate. By then, the metal dumpster was glowing red and beginning to soften. He went around the store and walked right past the landlord who was talking to the officers. The man showed no signs of recognition. His disguise was complete. He kept walking as someone started shouting "fire" from the alley. He stopped into an Internet cafe and strolled up to a person who was sitting at a terminal. He implanted a sensation of bladder pressure into the woman's mind, forcing her to run to the bathroom quickly. He took her seat and opened a new browser window, all the while blocking the clerk from noticing him. His fingers moved over the keyboard in a blur as he searched for the information he needed--or at least as much of it as was available over the internet. He finished quickly, closed the browser window, and left the seat for the woman to return to when she came back from the bathroom.

He opened a Snickers and munched as he walked. Someone was getting a soda from a vending machine nearby. He made them push the button for the drink he wanted instead of what they wanted, and then froze them in place while he took it, reminding them that it wasn't what they wanted anyway so they wouldn't chase him. A police officer saw, and approached with thoughts of deliberately overexerting his authority to teach him a lesson in his mind. Damon merely erased the last five minutes from the officer's memory and sent him on his way.

This is a trip. he thought to himself as he popped the top on his drink. He could practically taste his impending revenge. Yes, he realized, he was going to take his revenge upon the company that had had his family eliminated for revealing their illegal activities. Whatever was left, he would take control of and use to further his mission for the aliens. Then, he would be free to use his powers as he saw fit.

His subconscious mind continued to make changes to his body, enhancing his musculature among other things. These operations required calories and raw materials, thus prompting him to consume more of his food stash before he was truly ready. He passed a school in his rambling, and walked into the cafeteria through the delivery entrance. He opened the milk cooler and downed several pints of chocolate milk.

"Hey, what are you doing?" demanded a female voice. Damon wiped his mouth and glared at the intruder. She was Hispanic, in her twenties, and curvy in all the right places. "You'd better be able to pay for that!" she shouted, her pretty face marred by an angry frown. He touched her mind, and she began to smile and sigh happily. "Oh, um, hi." she said. "I, uh ... I dunno what you're doing here, but you're kinda cute."