Digital Dragon Serial
Comet Born #4 – Not Alone
by Grace Briges
DWINYAMA, GHANA. 16th
JANUARY 2021, 10:38 AM
Jamie glanced at the computer’s clock
in the corner of the screen. He still had a few more minutes to surf
over to his favorite movie forum—if it could be called surfing at this
speed. While waiting for the page to come up, he stretched and looked
around the simple internet cafe with its barely-private cardboard
booths.
Finally the site appeared and he logged in.
At least this forum had less of that fancy graphic programming so it
wasn’t as slow as some others he knew.
Quickly, with his paid time running
out, he clicked through to a superhero thread he’d discovered on his
last visit. It bore the title “What If...” and was filled with
imaginative uses for superpowers in the real world, if anyone could
truly have them. He didn’t know why he was so drawn to superheroes even
at his age—at sixteen surely everyone had outgrown such childish
pleasures.
The new entries in the thread were the
usual suspects. Flying could be used in search and rescue. Superhuman
strength for humanitarian housing projects. And if the hero became a
public figure, people could be inspired to do what good they could in
their own lives. Yeah, right. Still, nothing unusual there.
Then an entry caught
his eye.
What if someone had total recall from birth? And "what if" it was really real? I know someone like that and they are embarrassed to be so clever so they hide it.
The post was made by a user called Jojo2004, whose avatar was an animated figure of Supergirl with her long red cloak rippling out around her. Certainly nothing extraordinary in the online world.
Ping! A box popped up on Jamie’s screen.
You have one minute remaining. Please purchase more credits if you wish to continue.
He clicked it away and poised his fingers over the keyboard, then typed.
I, too, know a person with that ability. This thing is for real.
Posted. The page reloaded to show his entry. Another new post appeared above his—someone must have been typing at the very same time as him—and the ten-second warning flashed up. The seconds counted down and he skimmed the new message.
There are other abilities that go with superhuman memory. I know someone who can fly.
His gaze flicked towards the avatar, but in that second his time ran out and the screen locked.
Thank you for using Honest Toby’s Internet Cafe and Call Shop. Please visit again soon!
Dang! Jamie slammed his palms on the wooden table, then sighed and stood up, the old chair scraping on the concrete floor. He would find that user’s name next time he had a few hundred cedi to spare.
Nodding to the cafe owner, he pushed open the spring-loaded door and stepped into the warm morning. His mind played over the forum thread again. So there were others with total recall. Long had he wondered why no one else remembered the hour of their birth. Then he’d questioned why he was the only one who did. Now the news that there were others—it rattled his world.
But that last poster, saying there was a connection to flying—surely that was just a crazy fan with too much imagination. A chuckle rose in Jamie’s throat as he sauntered home towards the setting sun, until he remembered the unusual strength in his hands. He stopped short and gazed at his palms. And that person’s post had snuck in above his. Flying, indeed!
He grimaced as he recalled his own message. He hadn’t specified the ability he spoke of, merely said it was real—anyone reading his post could easily surmise he was talking about the flying. As if!
Embarrassment inched over him and he kicked at a rock on the roadside.
It tore out with a clod of dirt, soared several car-lengths and knocked a branch off a tree.
The branch clattered to the ground. Jamie approached, picked it up and weighed it in his hands. It was almost as thick as his wrist. On a notion, he grasped it and bent.
It broke like a dry twig. He stared at the two pieces, proof of the strength that had been with him since he was born.
What if it was true?
No. No, it couldn’t be. People didn’t just fly.
Then again, they didn’t just break branches with their bare hands or set paper on fire from writing too fast, either.
It wouldn’t hurt to try, would it? Jamie looked around to make sure he had the stretch of road all to himself. How would one go about flying, presuming one had the ability?
“Heh. You’re crazy,” he told himself as he closed his eyes.
Fly.
A slight movement of air on his face jolted his eyes open. He regarded the wide horizon of dusty ground and scattered scraggly trees, and suddenly the world seemed larger than it had been a moment ago. Jamie dropped his eyes to the ground—and yelled out, a raw, hoarse cry of fear, for the ground was far below. The height of a house at least—maybe two—separated his feet from the dirt road.
Quickly he turned his head to scan the area and found his body spun too. No one was in sight—just as well. He rotated slowly until he saw his own house. A hand reached in that direction set him to moving swiftly cross-country. Weaving from side to side, he avoided flying over buildings where people might exit and see him.
Fear turned to exhilaration. He looked up into the wide, wide sky and whooped. Air whooshed past him as he zipped upwards, and he closed his eyes for a moment.
Bad idea. He hit something soft and it squawked. Opening his eyes, he discovered he was amidst a flock of herons. He flailed to get out of their way. Their loud, croaking calls disoriented him and he curled up and tumbled towards the ground.
No sooner had he lifted his head and looked around than he had regained his equilibrium. The herons flew away to the north. He looked for his house.
With a thought he lowered his altitude to just above the treetops and banked around. His mind reeled. How could this be? And yet...it felt so completely right, as if it had always been part of him. As indeed the memory and strength had been with him since birth.
Jamie noticed he was still carrying half of the branch he’d snapped. Mid-air, he took it in both hands and applied pressure again.
Nothing happened. He screwed up his face with the effort, but the limb didn’t even bend.
Curious. Normally it would be no problem. He’d been strong all his life. It was no imagination. But then, neither was this: he hung suspended in nothing but the atmosphere, embraced by the sky, looking down at his home.
He blinked and descended by thinking of it, just as he could order his body to move in the more ordinary manner. His feet touched the dust behind the house and he frowned at the branch in his hand. Without thinking, he raised it.
Crack! It broke cleanly into two parts. He peered at the pieces, then up at the sky. Why hadn’t it worked up there?
But his brain spun from the fact that he had indeed flown home from Toby’s Internet Cafe. In a daze, he placed the broken branch on the woodpile, flicked bird poop off his shirt, and entered the house.
GLENFIELD, AUCKLAND, NEW ZEALAND. 16th JANUARY 2021, 9:03 PM
Joelle zipped in from above to land in the tree outside her bedroom. She climbed down a couple of branches and in through the window with the broken latch, then slung her backpack in a corner and fired up her cranky old netbook. She tiptoed out after first listening at the door, then opened and closed the front door loudly.
“Hi Mum!” she called, returning to her room.
A distracted “Hi...” sounded from the direction of the study. “Did you have a good time at the movie? Did you get a lift home?”
“Yes, Mum.” Well, it was technically a lift. Just not in a car.
The small computer was still connecting, so she moved to look out of her window. Only the tree was visible, with the last of the sunset light falling through the leaves. Many times she’d begged for its life—no one understood why she wanted it blocking her view. But she needed it for her covert comings and goings.
Joelle turned back to her desk, switched on a light, and called up the movie forum. The thread she’d started had been on fire lately. She didn’t know what had gotten into her to begin it. Dread rushed through her at the thought that someone else might find out what she was capable of. She longed to know if there were others who shared her abilities. It was a far-fetched hope to imagine that a hint on a fan forum might lead to something more.
But perhaps the Supergirl avatar was too obvious. She quickly changed it to a cute kitten wearing an eye-mask, then headed over to her thread.
Wow, there’d been some action today. People she didn’t know were getting very vocal about the possibilities of superpowers in reality. Some insisted it was complete rubbish—party poopers!—some were clearly in the wishful thinking camp, the dreamer type.
But what was this? Someone said total recall was real, and it went with flying?
And the poster after that said it was true.
She pulled up the profiles of the two forum contributors and scanned the information they’d chosen to make public. Both were male—as most superhero fans tended to be—and the first claimed to be in Ireland. He said he was sixteen, which matched her own age, but she knew better than to believe everything she read on the internet. She peered at his avatar, which appeared to be a cartoon of a dark-skinned face with red hair, then flipped over to the other.
This one called himself J101 and gave his location only as Africa. He had no avatar. Her eye fell on his date of birth—in this case, given in full.
It was the day before her own. September 29, 2004. What were the odds? She opened up a private message window and muttered to herself.
“Well, well, J101 and Liam, I think we need to talk.”
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