Apotheosis

Dr. John Watson, late of London circa 1880 AD, had never been in an American hospital, circa 2002 AD. When he entered, the smells struck him first. The hospital smelled that exact same sickly sweet smell that he sensed in the morgue. It was really amazing how the past century had changed how medicine was practiced. Back in his day, anyone who was stricken with cancer was given hardly any hope to live. Now, although cancer was not an readicated disease, there were more treatments available to help the patient. Watson wished he had time to marvel at the new medical technology, but he was on a mission and could not spare a moment.

He slipped undetected into the room they were keeping Becca’s body in. She was quite the medical celebrity. Completely healthy woman falls into a coma for no apparent reason. No sign of trauma anywhere in the body, but she keeled over one day and now she was on the minds of medical-minded people around the world.

Watson didn’t realize how easy it was to pretend to be a doctor. Well, technically, he was a doctor, but the last time he actively practiced, the ideas of bacteria and viruses were still in its absolute infancy. And as for detective work, Good Lord, the discovery of fingerprints didn’t occur until after Doyle wrote his last Sherlock Holmes adventure. Watson had so much to learn about the twenty-first century. It’s too mad that he had to do something else first. Something much more important than trying to understand the workings of the Internet, to be sure, but still.

He removed the jar from its place in his inside coat pocket. Becca’s soul still lay within, as bright and muminous as a night star, perhaps Vensus on a clear evening, Watson thought. He quickly shook his head. John, what in the world is happening to you? This girl is at least thirty years your junior. She’s old enough to be your daughter. ANd yet. And yet. Becca made Watson feel young. Young and important. Oh, snap out of it, John, Watson thought to himself. It will never work. She can’t even live in the After while she still has her body, and even if she dies, she has a choice of where she will wish to go.

Watson sighed beavily and unscrewed the jar. The ball of light, happy to be free of its imprisonment, rushed back into Becca’s body.

Becca gasped and opened her eyes.

“Wat-watson?” she asked in a weak whisper.

“Yes, it’s me,” Watson replied, just as softly. “I’m going to have to leave you for a bit.”

“No...too scared...” Becca shook her head. “They...might...come back for me...”

“It’s alright. I’ll just be outside. The doctors and nurses who are working on you will be here any moment. I’ve got to leave before they see me.” Watson took hold of Becca’s right hand, still frightfully cold, and squeezed tightly. As voices wafted along the corridor, Watson disappeared with a slight pop. Becca was now alone in the room.

“John,” Becca said just as the first nurse burst into the room.

“Oh my God,” the nurse cried. “It’s true. Oh, Rebecca, welcome back! You’ve been in a coma for four days.”

Becca smiled slilghtly at the nurse. Only four? She wondered idly as the medical personall began to poke and prod her to make sure everything was alright with her. It seemed to take a lifetime to travel to the After and it took another lifetime to return from it. Becca let her body ease down into the bed, feeling, at last, the serenity of being reunited with her flesh. Disembodiment never suited her.

Watson made his way to the hospital gift shop, and perused its small collection of new books for sale. After a moment’s hesitation, he picked up a heavy box set of four books. He brought it to the cashier.

“Gonna make some little child very happy with this. Only, you have to make sure they don’t already have copies,” the cashier, a teen-aged volunteer grinned.

“Oh, I know the one I’m giving it to. He hasn’t read the books yet.” Watson offered the girl his credit card.

“He’s in for a delight,” the girl answered, swiping the card across her scanner. As she waited for the register to print out the recipts, she idly stared at the card. “Hey, John Watson. Like in the Sherlock Holmes books. Sorry, I bet you get that a lot.”

Watson simply grinned and nodded.

“I could never get into those books when I was a kid. I dunno why. Too obtuse for me, I guess. Now, Encyclopedia Brown, that was an interesting series of mystery books for kids. Ever hear of it?”

“No,” Watson replied. “I can’t say that I have.”

“Oh, well, I don’t blame you for not knowing. They’re strictly kids’ stuff. A couple of pages of mystery story and then boom, the reader has to figure out the solution and see if it matches what Encyclopedia Brown thought of.” The girl turned slightly to watch the register spit out its receipt. “But Harry Potter, anyone can enjoy it. Kids, adults, you name it. Sign here, please,” she placed the receipt on the countertop and offered Watson a pen.

Watson took the pen and managed to sign his name with a neat flourish, despite the fact that he’d never used a rollerball before. “There we are.”

“Thanks,” the teen grinned. “Enjoy the books,” she added, as she placed the heavy set in a large white plastic bag.

Watson took the bag and nodded goodbye. He reached up to the top of his head to doff his hat, but then re remembered that men hardly wore hats in this century, and if they did, they wouldn’t doff them to kind young ladies. Some habits died a sad death. He walked out of the shop and fished the box set of the bag. He stared at the picture on the box carefully. Indeed, Harry looked a lot better in person than he did on the box.

***

Harry feels slight chill up his spine. It feels as if someone had just dropped an ice cube down his back. And it’s not just because he’s travelling at breakneck speeds over a connection so tenuous that he’s worried it might break at any moment.

Claudius notices Harry’s strange expression and asks, “What’s wrong, Harry?”

Harry shakes his head. “It’s nothing,” he replies, even though he knows that this feeling is hardly nothing.

“No, tell me. What’s wrong?”

“I just got the feeling that someone's just run an icicle up and down my back. That’s not natural, is it?”

Claudius breathes a sigh of relief. “Oh, that! That’s just one of the advantages of being a Theo in the After. Every time someone mentions you, or thinks about you, or buys your books in the mortal realm, you get a slight jolt of energy.”

“But I don’t feel any different.”

“It doesn’t make you feel any different, until you start tapping into it like Eve taught you how to do. We’re nearly there, Harry. Stay sharp. Nero’s tricky.”

Harry nods, wishing he could see more of this realm of the After. Everything whooshes by, and Harry thinks he glimpses certain things, but he’s really not sure if what he sees is real or not. All he sees is blackness, utter desolate blackness, dotted with gray specks. Harry gasps as he and Claudius grind to a sudden halt.

They are in front of an orange sized ball of sickly gray light, floating lazily in mid-air.

“Careful, Harry. Keep your guard up. You never know what an infamous Theo will do while in the presence of a normal Theo,” Claudius says, eyeing the ball of light with a disdainful glance. “Hello, Nero.”

The ball shivers and shakes for a moment, and it tries to stretch itself out. It’s like watching an insect trying to unfurl itself out of an egg. Harry is so disgusted he has to look away for a few moments.

“Harry, keep your eyes on it,” Claudius snaps.

The ball, still trying its best to transform itself, begins to laugh. It’s a strange, high sort of laugh. It sounds something like the wheeze that happens when air is let out of a balloon in controlled bursts. Finally, it manages to eke out one word: “Father...”

Harry’s mouth drops open, and he glares at the ball. “Claudius. This thing. This thing is your son?”

“Was my son, yes.” Claudius answers carefully. “My chosen successor. I gave him everything. I adopted him over my own flesh and blood son. I wanted him to take over the Roman Empire after I was gone. And now look at him. Wasting away in infamy, after all I have done for him.”

“You...lie...” the ball wheezes.

“I’m telling the absocute truth and you know it,” Claudius growls. “You had your chance. I gave you your chance. You had choices, you had everything and you wasted it. I have no pity for you. You have no right to call me father. Brittanicus is twice the son you ever were.”

“You...lie...” the balls wheezes again. “Nero knows...Nero knows...truth be told...You wanted empire to rot...rot away like a dead corpse. Maggots feeding on flesh...you...you wanted Nero to fail...”

Claduius scowls hard at the ball of gray light that used to be Nero. Harry, dumbfounded, watches the scene but says nothing to interrupt.

“You deserve....deserve what Hero got...” the ball of light squeaks forcefully. “You...stay with Nero...yes?”

“No,” claudius barks. “I’m here on a mission. Why are you all joining together? How are you all changing the mortal realm?”

“Father wishes to know?” the ball shudders angrily and begins to stretch and form itself into a shade. Along with the transofrmation in shape is a sudden transformation in the sound of Nero’s speech. It deepens, lowers in pitch down to a more human-like tone. “You wish to know?” Nero asks, a deep sneer on his face. “You’ve only to join me, Father. Join us and you’ll know how everything works.” Nero grabs at Claudius’s arm.

Claudius lets out a terrified scream.

“Stop it!” Harry exclaims as he forces some of his power to corse through his hands. “Let go of him right now!” He throws his collected power at Nero’s hand, making the attacker flinch.

“Ah, so the boy’s had some training,” Nero grumbles, rubbing his arm. “It figures. You never could leave well enough alone, Father. Always planning. Always scheming. Must make the world a better place. Pitiful. Misguided.” Nero begins to curl up into a ball again. “Idiot...” the ball wheezes.

“I’m not the one sitting in infamy, Nero. You brought that on yourself,” Claudius says. “My machinations didn’t make you go mad with power.”

“No...” answers the ball. “It was Mother...”

“You leave Aggripinnilla out of this. She is no concern of yours.”

“She forced me...forced me to do all...”

“Have you ever thought for even a second that all of this, this infamy of yours, might just be your fault? Why do you blame everyone else but yourself?” Claudius asks.

“Because...we know...we watch...we listen...” the ball replies. It begins to laugh its high-pitched laugh one again. “Goodbye...father...”

Harry and CLaudius begin to hurtle away from the gray ball that was once Nero. It appears that the ball has had quite enough of its visitors for the moment.

“That wasn’t too helpful,” Harry sighs. “He, I mean, it didn’t really tell us anything we didn’t already know.”

“On the contrary. I got the rise out of him that I hoped I would,” Claudius says, grinning devilishly. “Nero alwasy did have a nasty temper. Always threw tantrums like a baby, even when he was a grown man. I hoped that he’d give us more information. Did you notice how he said ‘we’?”

Harry nods.

“Well, now we know for sure that all the infamous Theos are working together, combining what little strength they have to do their handiwork. I’m sure that little transformation stunt of Nero’s took a lot of power. Probably caused some dissention among the ranks.”

“Perhaps that’s going to make the group start to fall apart,” Harry says.

“We can only hope, Harry. Oh, thank you for saving me, by the way.”

Harry grins. “When Nero had a hold of you, did you sense anything about the rest of the group?”

“Just power,” Claudius shrugs. “Nothing much else.”

“And that didn’t tempt you, not even for a moment?” Harry asks.

“Of course not,” Claudius answers. “I haven’t the slightest idea what I’d do with that much power.”

Harry nods slowly.

“Besides,” Claudius adds, “If I joined them, I’d have had to share that power. Wheres’s the fun in that?”

Harry glares at Claudius until he notices that the older man is starting to laugh.

“Oh, Harry,” Claudius grins. “I’ve got all I want in a cup of coffee and the morning paper. I’d really miss New York City if the Apocalypse comes to pass. That’s why I want to stop the end of existence from happening. I love the mortal realm too much.”

“So where are we headed now?”

“After Nero’s done pushing us away, I suppose we could go back Home and check in with Eve.”

“Right,” Harry nods. “I could get in more training.”

“Oh, no, Harry,” Claudius sighs. “You won’t have time.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because,” Claudius answers, “You’ve got a premiere to attend.”

Posted by Michelle at November 17, 2002 9:42 AM