_______

______

          Light. Dark. Sound. Silence. Pain. Bliss. Memory. Forgetfulness. Shame. Pride.

          He catalogued each of these words amid the millions that flashed across the screen of his mind. It was busy work, but it kept him from thinking about...about...

          What had he been thinking about? It was important - something he wasn't suppose to forget. Ah well, it's forgotten. Where is that noise coming from? It reminded him of the white noise he often fell asleep too when the cable went out. The sound the audience heard before the little blond announced, "They're here!"

          It grew in volume as he looked about the inside of his mind for its source. If he concentrated he could hear voices in the noise. And they too grew in volume. In fact, it was becoming too loud. Much like being inside the Fox Theatre before a show, when everyone seated and standing is talking, each patron raising their voice above the other to be heard as their number increased with each second.

          In his mind he put his hands over his ears. Make it stop. It's hurting my head.

          But the volume only increased. It became a pain at the center of his brain that burned outward as the voices filled the empty spaces, voided the gap junctions, and numbed the mind. He went down on his knees in his private theatre and cried for the noise to stop.

          Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop makeit stop, makeitstop, makeitstop, makeitstop...

          "Make it stop!"

          He flailed atop something cold and ungiving. More voices added to those exploding in his head. When he opened his eyes the light blinded him and so he squeezed them shut. There was something in his nose, preventing him from breathing easy. He grabbed at it, his fingers touching tubes and he yanked at them.

          "Mac... stop moving. Mac! Listen to me!"

          "Shit...grab his arms. He's on... why is the port switched on?!"

          "Make it stop.. aw fuck...make it stop!" He tried to press his hands to the sides of his head, but stronger, warmer hands pulled at his writs and held his hands at his sides.

          "Don't let him pull," a familiar male voice said. "I know from experience. He's going to try and pull at his ears. Hold his hands."

          Something hard clamped against each wrist and held his arms immobile at his sides. Hands took his face, held him still. He tried to open his eyes, to see what was happening to him. But the lights blinded him.

          "Mac, listen to me. You're going to have to close the port yourself. You've come up open. That is not suppose to happen. Mac listen to me. Open your eyes."

          "....can't..."

          "Holly, shut the lights out"

          The world darkened behind his eyelids. The cacophony in his head increased and he writhed against the voices. Images began abruptly, flashing in front of his eyes as if some home projectoer had stuck on fast forward. Image after image came to him.

          "Open your eyes, Mac. Look at me."

          With a whimper he opened them as slits. The light no longer blinded him, and he saw someone close to his face. And the images were still there, superimposed on the blurred visage of a man's face.

          The man touched the tender area around his eyes. He tried to pull away but hands held him still. Fingers pulled his eye-lids back. "I was right...his Optics are wide open. Damn. Mac, listen to me carefully. You're going to have shut down your port. I can't do it for you. You'll have to do it yourself."

          "...how...?"

          The man's image moved. "Think of the port as a shutter. Like on a camera or even the shutters on a house window. Think of this shutter at the base of your skull, top of your neck. Think of it there, and imagine the shutter closing."

          He followed the man's words, visualized a camera shutter. He saw the shutter iris closed.

          The noise ceased. The silence nearly deafened him in it's abruptness. He felt dizzy, as if suddenly robbed of his equilibrium. He'd done it...and he was still seeing the shutter. It was real - a complete three-D image in his mind. If he reached out and touched it again with a thought...

          "Mac, don't think about it." The voice said inside his head. "You'll open it up again."

          He opened his eyes wider. He saw Richard Mannis standing over him. He felt Mannis' hands on his face, pressed against his cheeks. But he also saw the shutter, as if there were a picture on clear acetate between he and the doctor.

          "That's good. Now, I need you to disconnect your optic. This will allow the program to stabilze and your lenses won't be so dialated."

          He blinked at Mannis. "H-how..." his voice was little more than a croak, this throat was dry and scratched.

          "Move Richard," Doc stepped in front of Mannis and placed a straw at Mac's lips. "Sip this slowly."

          He did and the liquid eased his parched mouth. After several swallows he pulled away and managed a smile. "I survived?"

          She nodded, but Mannis motioned her away. "Mac, close your optics. You're going to fry the connectors if you don't. It's mine-shaft black in here to us. Or at least to Oz and Holly. Focus on a visual for your optics. Better yet, you're seeing with both sets. Let's differentiate them now, while you're conscious."

          "Differ...?"

          He nodded. "To see with the computer lense, pretend you're looking at one of those Magic-Eye pictures. You know where you have to unfocus to see it."

          Mac had always liked those pictures and found he was good at finding the images. Within seconds he saw only the photographic shutter. "I can't see you anymore...where did the other images go?"

          "You can't see me because you're focusing separate right now. This is good. You have to learn to sync, okay? Do you still see the shuttered port? That's natural. When you woke up, prematruely I might add, all the connections were on full. Kinda like you were a damn opened up all the way. No filters were in place. So, you were picking up every image from every open wireless network within a thousand mile radius."

          Mac blinked. He found he had to refocus to see Mannis and when he did, the shutter image vanished. "Uhm...can you repeat that...in English?"

          The doctor beamed."See? You did it. You just closed your optics. Now you're seeing with the primary set."

          "I did? I am?"

          "You needed to see me so you refocused. Ergo, your unconscious shut down the optic center that controlled the computer end. I think you're going to be a natural at this."

          Mac turned to Holly. "I haven't understood a word he just said. Are my ears still there?"

          "Can we turn the lights on now?" The voice of Oz rang from the room's farthest corner.

          Mac laughed and realized he was still in the main room of Holly's office. "Oz...how long have you been here?"

          The lights came back on, and though he had to squint as his irises adjusted to the abrupt shift in the spectrum, he could see the burly man clearly. Holly moved to his side and unfastened the clamps holding his writs.

          "I been here about an hour. When I couldn't find you in your room, I called Huang. Said you were here. She had to leave..." he shook his head. "More spin control I'm sure."

          Sleepy, Mac rested his head back and relaxed. "So...it went well?" He reached up and moved his hands to his face, especially his eyes. It felt as if something pressed against both of them, but more so on his left eye.

          Holly smacked his hands away. "You do that and I'll clamp 'em down again. Your face is tender, young man. I haven't finished my end of this operation yet." She obviously noticed his expression and gave him a warm smile. "Except for that nasty awakening there, I'd say yeah. You're healing nicely."

          From behind Mannis and Holly, Oz shook his head and made a face. Mac felt crestfallen. "I look that bad?"

          "Worse than the other day," He shook his head. "God, Doc...is his face gonna heal from that? He looks like Rocky in the second movie."

          "Oz, would you get lost?" Holly waved the big man away. She turned to Mac. "We're not done cleaning you up yet. Like I said, I'm not done with my end of things. But it's nearly six and I need food."

          "Six..." Mac thought about the time in his head and abruptly an image if an analog clock superimposed over Doc's face. He recognized it. "Hey..that's the clock on my hard drive. It says it's six on .... Saturday?"

          Mannis nodded. "Saturday, six oh seven to be precise. We started yesterday at," his eyes glazed for a second. "Wow...bout two minutes ago. That's a record. Twenty-four hour install." Mannis turned and moved away. To Mac's surprise, his ibook sat open on a nearby table. Beside it sat a silver, thinner, sleeker version. "Well I'll be...you're in already. They say Adepts do become the machine, don't they?"

          "I'm in?"

          "In here," he pointed to his ibook. "This," he pointed to the newer machine. "is your new G5 Powerbook. These aren't even close to being on the market yet, so don't flash this puppy around too much. I think you're also syncing the optics on your own. You really are going to be good at this, once you get your feet under you."

          Mac blinked. "I'm seeing my hard drive...in my head?"

          "Hey, he's a bright boy."

          Doc turned to the door where Oz stood. "Out. Go beat up somebody. Bring me business. Just don't go messing with this boy again."

          With a wink, Oz smiled at Mac. "Better get some more of Doc's 'beauty sleep'." He was gone.

          Mannis put his hand on Mac's bare arm. The Adept realized he was covered by little more than a sheet. "I'll explain everything tomorrow for training. First, you still have recovery sleep. Now, disconnect from your ibook."

          Mac refocused on Mannis' face. This time he felt or sensed the machine's click and whir as he logged out. Incredible! "And what happened just now...won't happen again? The light and the noise?"

          "Not unless you open everything up like that again. But your eyes will be sensitive to light for a while. No bright lights right in the eye. Could damage the optics." He tapped Mac's shoulder. "More tomorrow, Adept. Tomorrow. Now, I have to get your things ready." He gave another smile and left the room.

          Doc stepped beside him and he cranned his neck to see her from his prone postion. "I don't really feel any different, except for my left eye. It feels like it has sand in it."

          "That's your new...well, how can I say it...eye." She sighed. "The sandpaper feel will melt away in a day or two. And you'll be right as rain. As for why you woke up so soon, I have no explanation. With all that goo in there mess'n with my magicks, I'm not sure. I might have inadvertantly triggered you awake. I think I'll put you down deeper this time." She reached out to him, her hands bare, and placed her fingers against his temples as she had the other day. "Let's get those scars melted away to nearly nothing."

          His muscles relaxed again, as they had before and he closed his eyes. You have the potential for more said his mother in his mind, and he wanted to cry as he drifted back into oblivion.

Back to Journal