Chapter 3 – Big Brother is Watching

But how was he supposed to get home without being seen? He was not sure what time it was now, but surely people in the neighborhood were waking up and getting ready for the day? His body was starting to feel warmer and he let the towel drop. He didn’t need it anymore. He looked down at his body and not for the first time wished that he looked more like his father.

Look at my puny body! No wonder the chicks don’t dig me! My father is tall, dark and handsome and I’m short, pale and homely. Maybe if I were his real son, I’d have some of his genes. I guess that’s what happens when you’re adopted!

The Wellingtons have always been honest with their adoptive son. Unable to have any children of their own, they opted for adoption. David and Mary Wellington were thrilled when Michael came into their lives, and they were never stingy with their love. If David was ever disappointed that his adopted son didn’t quite seem to have the same athletic tendencies as himself, he never showed it to Michael. When Michael was younger, his father would often be away on long business trips, and when he came home, he would always shower Michaels with gifts from whatever exotic location his job sent him to.

Dad’s a journalist and Mom a photographer. That’s how they met. I know they love me, but I wish they wouldn’t be gone so often. They keep promising to take me with them one day but they never do.

Michael shook himself out of his self-pity and concentrated on the task at hand. Ok, that thing, the Shiza-haran said that he could conceal himself from Valean sensors. Does that mean invisible?

<<Not invisible, young one. Merely not seen.>>

Oh, you’re back! What do you mean, not seen?

<<What you know as sight is simply a reflection of light. Photons from your sun strikes an object and bounces off to be seen by your human eye. If the light does not touch an object, you will simply not see it. That’s how we hide from Valean sensors. We do not let the light touch us, and they do not see us. Light is simply energy which we can manipulate.>>

Ok, so what do I do?

<<Picture in your mind the light simply not touching you. They curve and bend, but do not come close to you.>>

Michael closed his eyes and thought about a drawing he had seen before. Curves and bends huh? Sounds almost like an airfoil. Passionate about flying since he was a young kid, Michael imagined how an airfoil looked like when it was generating lift. The picture he had seen showed the cross section of an airfoil. It was curved on top, and flat on the bottom. There were illustrated lines symbolizing the air moving over and under the airfoil, creating low pressure on top, and high pressure on the bottom. The lines never touched the airfoil. He knew that it was just a representation of how an airfoil works but the image had stuck in his mind ever since.

He pictured lines of light moving toward him and then sliding away, never quite touching him. He reached into himself and found that power source again, and applied it to the image in his head. He could feel his body getting a little colder. He opened his eyes and looking down at his body.

Hey, it worked, I think. I can’t see myself! Where his body should’ve been, there was a shimmering transparency. It was not total invisibility, but it was almost like looking through a warped glass bottle. Being a lover of old science fiction action movies, he immediately thought of a comparable example.

Cool, I look like the Predator! Wait a minute; I’m supposed to be invisible!

<<I never said you would be invisible, young one. In the darkness of space, one does not need to be invisible since anything that does not have a light source close by already is invisible.>>

Great! This is not gonna work either. If someone sees a warped blob walking around the neighborhood, they’re not gonna call the police, they’re gonna call the X-Files!

<<Try to remain as still as possible and stop waving your appendage around.>>

Michael did as he was told and re-examined his body. With his body still, he had admit that he was pretty darn close to being invisible. Just like the Predator from that almost forgotton action movie, he was decently camouflaged as long as he did not move around too much too fast.

I guess this will just have to do, right? Wait a sec… what do I call you anyway? I can’t keep thinking of you as you!

<<Shiza-harans do not have names. We do not have mouths and we do not speak out loud. >>

Oookaayy…so how do you talk to each other?

<<We share thoughts the way you would share food. We could always sense each other no matter how great the distance was between us. When one of us died, we all knew it at the same time.>>

So, kinda like a hive mind then?

<<Not a hive mind! We were not like the workers bees running errands for the queen bee! It was a brotherhood of minds. Why would we need names in an environment like that?>>

So, couldn’t you call out to your brothers now? If they’re out there, they can come help you!

<<Just before I turned on the hunter pack that was hunting me, I felt the last of my brothers issue his death cry. The realization that I was the last Shiza-haran drove me crazy and I attacked the battlecruiser single-handed.>>

So you’re all alone now? Sorry, I don’t want cause you anymore grief.

<<I am not alone anymore. I have you. For better or for worse, you are a fledging Shiza-haran, and it is my duty to teach you our ways.>>

Teach me eh? Kinda like a mentor?

<<More like a big brother.>>

Ha! So since you’re in my head, then “big brother is watching” has a whole new meaning!

Michael smiled at that thought. He’d always wanted a big brother. Actually any sibling would’ve been good, but a big brother to show him the ropes had always been his wish. He wasn’t too sure about how he felt about having a 24/7 peeping tom in his mind, but since there wasn’t anything he could do about it…

Michael started walking home. This should be a breeze now, now that nobody could see him – as long as he took his time and didn’t try to move too fast, the warped outline of his body may actually be ignored by most people. Unfortunately, he would have to leave his backpack here. A backpack floating in mid-air would be too weird!

He exited from the park having only encountered a couple of joggers on the path. Up ahead, he could see Mrs. Doris out walking her French poodle, Bubbles.

Uh oh. This could be trouble!

He stopped walking and considered crossing the street, but people were pulling out of their driveways and there was a steady stream of cars on the street. He stood as still as possible and hoped for the best.

Mrs. Doris was a sixty something woman who defined the word “nosy”. Her poodle Bubbles was the classic example of a high-strung dog. Together, they were a wicked combination. They lived across the street from his house, and they would often sit on the front porch, watching people pass by on their daily business. Every time Michael came home from school, Bubbles would start yapping in his high squeaky voice. It always got on his nerves.

As he expected, Bubbles had picked up his scent. Bubble was suddenly very alert and pulling on his leash. It was all Mrs. Doris could do to hang onto her end of the leash.

“What’s wrong, Bubbles? What do you smell?” Mrs. Doris asked? She peered short sightedly in Michael’s direction, but could not make out any distinct details. “Come away from there, Bubbles, there’s nothing there!”

Bubbles was sniffing at Michael’s feet. Clearly there was something there, but he couldn’t see it! Frustrated, Bubbles started whining and growling.

“Bubbles, you stop that right now. Come on, we have to get to our seat in the park before someone else takes it.” Mrs. Doris was clearly impatient to get to her front row seat in the park to watch all the joggers and hikers.

Michael had a sudden mischievous idea. He reached down with his hand, and flicked Bubbles on his nose. Startled at the sudden pain to his nose, Bubble let out a loud “YIP”, pulled his leash out of Mrs. Doris’ straining hand, and ran down the street and into the park.

“Bubbles! Bubbles! You get back here, young man! Bubbles!” Mrs. Doris shambled her bulk down the street as fast as she could in and effort to catch up to her errant dog. “BUBBLES!”

Laughing to himself, Michael jogged the rest of the way to his house. He didn’t want to meet any more mishaps. Besides, he was going to be late for school! He approached his house and immediately saw Serena’s car in the driveway.

Damn, she’s still here! Now what do I do?

He looked up at his house. His window, which faced the front, was still missing. He thought about climbing the tree, but quickly discarded that idea. First of all, there was no way he could even climb the tree, and second of all, it was still too far from his window to jump.

Too bad I can’t fly up there! Hey, big brother, how would you handle this?

<<You could assume your Shiza-haran form and simply fly through the window. In fact, had you stayed in your true form, you could have flown back to your abode and avoided your neighbor altogether.>>

Geez, now you tell me!

<<Some lessons are better learned than taught, young one!>>

Anyway, I don’t want to assume that other form. This is my body. Not that other thing! Well, if I can’t fly, then maybe I can jump?

He flexed his knees, and imagined himself jumping into the window. Reaching inside himself, he took hold of the power and jumped. He had hoped to land on the window ledge and then climb in, but he had miscalculated. He jumped right through and into his bedroom. He landed with a thump on the floor. The glass had been cleaned off the floor. In fact, his usually messy room was spotless. Serena was nothing if not efficient!

Great, I hope she didn’t hear that! Wait, what’s that sound? Sounds like voices.

Michael followed the sound of the radio to his parents’ room. The clock radio by the bed was on and a news report was coming on.

“Officials are perplexed at the great burst of light that was observed late last night over North America.” The news report droned on, but Michael only heard it with half an ear. Another sound had caught his young imagination.

It sounds like running water! It’s coming from the ensuite. Mom and Dad can’t be home, can they?

The door to the ensuite was open, and steam was wafting out from it. Curious, he walked over, reassured by the fact that he was still somewhat transparent. Peering inside, he received one of the biggest shocks in his young life. Inside the glass shower stall, Serena, the object of many wet dreams and fantasies, was taking a shower!