SIGHT

(Seducer Part 3 - Chapter 34 of Senses)

Jim entered A.J.'s gym to find him using the ceiling as a trampoline. Although the room was built for it, with canvas on every surface, such a sight would unnerve most people. Not often and usually never does one see a man over 7 feet tall fall up to the ceiling.

To Jim, however, this was about what he expected. "Can't you use the floor, like everyone else?" he asked.

A.J. jumped down into a double back flip, then fell up to the ceiling, landing on his back. On the bounce he turned over, and fell to the floor. The landing would have jarred Jim had he not already adjusted. By the time A.J. had landed, Jim was in lotus position four feet from the floor.

A.J. spun back up from the bounce and leveled off, floating so as to be face to face with his brother.

"The floor is kind of boring," A.J. said, catching his breath, "and this provides a workout."

"Then why not the walls?" Jim asked. "That would be tougher."

"You know better." Just because we can create a gravity well that in effect nulls the Earth's effect on us we can't ignore it or cancel it out. If we could create two of them though...

"Problem solved," Jim finished. "Ye must know thy limits."

"And be willing to push them back. We are the Chuck Yeager's of our field."

"We are the everybody of our field. Our field doesn't even have a name."

A.J. chuckled. "I'll put Larry on it. Come up with some fancy acronym for it probably."

Jim smiled. "Nice thought experiment, bro', but what are we working on?"

"Language, Jim, language. I can see you're puzzled, so let me give you some background.

"You know I have a studio here on the property," A.J. began, "that's similar to yours. Computer driven, but not automated like yours. About four months ago Carrie and I were working when the motherboard blew on the main counsel. Fried. Gone. So, I called up Scott to make some repairs.

"We worked on the board and finally got it operational, then we went for beers. Well, beer for him and vodka for me. We got pretty wasted.

"The night went into the cliffs above Palisades Beach, and to make a long story short, he fell off."

"You went after him," Jim said.

A.J. nodded. "Hell, I didn't even think about it. If I hadn't the fall would have killed him. So I doubled my gravity and shot past him, hovered and caught him, and took him back up, and he passed out.

"I took him back to my place to let him wake up and sober up. The first thing he says to me when he comes to is 'how did you do that'?"

"You couldn't pass it off as a misremembered kind of thing?" Jim asked.

"Nope," A.J. replied. "Something called re-enforcement trauma. Ask Karen about it - she'd know.

"At any rate, I explained to him about the formulas and such, and he in turn asked me a question I couldn't answer. How does it work?"

"I don't follow," Jim said.

"Think for a moment about how I see things. All of the equations. Why are they equations? Everything we do is done in our brains, correct?"

"That we established long ago."

"True," A.J. said, "but everything that happens in the brain is a chemical reaction. What I see and we both use are formulae. What is the translation process? Where does that happen?"

Jim considered for a moment, his eyebrows knitted in heavy thought. "You're trying to break everything into binary," he said.

"Well, the cranial equivalent, at any rate."

"Do you know enough biology to do this?"

"I've been working on it. Follow me."

Both men floated to the floor, and Jim followed A.J. into the living room, where A.J. has set up a projection television set. There was a computer console next to the screen, which A.J. activated as Jim watched the images form.

"Fascinating," Jim said after a moment. "What are we watching?"

"Computer simulation," A.J. said, "which takes advantage of some of the latest advances in radio waves and fractal mathematics. Radio scans the brain, IBM technology supplies a cell by cell representation."

"Very nice," Jim responded, "but this doesn't tell you about the chemicals or where they're going. This looks more like a snapshot."

"That's where our computer oriented friend, Scott David, comes in. If the computer is programmed to do a spectrum analysis of the cell, which I'm told can be done on a radio scan, then we can see what is active and what is not during any specific procedure."

"I see. How long does this snapshot take?

"About half an hour," A.J. said.

"Anything can happen in half an hour! How are you going to know you're looking at the right thing?"

"Lots of scans, do an average. Fortunately these are radio waves and are harmless."

"Next observation," Jim continued. "There are several million or billion cells in the brain, right? You're talking about a pretty fucking massive scale."

"True," A.J. responded. "It'll take months if not years to analyze."

"Then why do it?"

"Look Jim, I still want to pursue the physical limits of what we do, and we will, but this is part of a much bigger picture. I can accept that we may never know why we manipulate physics, but someday someone will. If we can lay the groundwork by cataloging this shit, I think we will at least have been of some help."

Jim chuckled. "Thinking about history?" he asked.

"Damn straight. One of these days either you, me, or Larry will have kids. They may have some of these abilities - they may have more. And there has got to be others. If not now then someday."

"A.J.," Jim asked, "what if we're mutants?"

"You, me and Karen? What about your idea that everyone is a potential empath? What if everyone has the potential, no matter how latent, to do the things we do?"

"If you'll recall, that little idea got you seven months in jail."

"I haven't forgotten."

"Are you suggesting that we're an evolutionary step?"

A.J. clapped his hands together. "Breakthrough!" he shouted. "Yes! That's exactly what I'm saying. There's a not very widely held theory that cancer is a portion of the human anatomy trying to evolve. The rest of the body can't handle that so it's treated like a disease. What we have here is cancer of the psyche, or even cancer of the brain. The difference the that we have adapted. We have taken that next step in evolution."

Jim sighed. "This is one motherfucker of a comparative study you're talking about. An expensive one too, from the look of it. You'd need a private lab and someone to run it."

A.J. laughed. "I suppose it's a good thing we're rich then."

Jim chuckled. "Yes, I suppose it is. So you want to spend several million dollars to set up an encyclopedic lab."

"That's right, bro', but that's only part of it. If we can make a tap of all of this, including the stuff Karen does, we may able to manipulate the physical things we do."

"You still want to fly."

"Damn straight, Jim. I want to pick up where we left off."

"A.J., that's very fucking dangerous. You went psycho on us once at the stopping point. You know that Larry won't let loose those formulae that caused that to happen."

"I'm not asking Larry to let those files lose. Look, I admit we can't fly solo. Jim, I need you and Karen, both to observe and interact."

Jim paced. "A.J., your wager was with me, not Karen."

"Give it a fucking rest," A.J. countered. "You two are inseparable. In fact, I'm still amazed that you two don't at least live together."

Jim stopped pacing and looked sheepish. "Uh, we do."

A.J. smiled. "When did this happen?"

"Last night. I suppose it's as close to marriage as I'm willing to get."

"True. I rest my case though."

Jim sighed. "Fair enough. Look, A.J., I'm going to need to think on it. There's a lot of shit going down right now, between the albums, the Moscow show, Karen, Angie, and just life in general..."

"Angie?" A.J. raised an eyebrow. "The day girl at the bar?"

"Yeah. She's making moves on me, and I don't need it right now."

"A groupie? No wonder you wanted the fuck out of that place when I called. And to think; two years ago that wouldn't have been a problem. She's your type, a lot like Karen."

"Like I said," Jim observed, "I don't need it right now."

"Jim, a piece of advice?" A.J. looked at his brother soberly. "Some twat trying to fuck you has never bothered you before. Is there too much going on right now?"

"It shows, does it? Hell, little bro', I really don't know. I do find I'm having trouble thinking things through on the spot. I even tried picking my guitar with a razor blade this morning."

"Maybe you need a vacation."

"Maybe. Look, give me time to think on it."

"Time given, Jim. Go home."

Jim nodded. "Yeah, Thanks."

Jim left A.J.'s home in a more sour mood than he was in when he arrived, and he didn't know why. He thought about it for a while as he drove down the Pacific Coast Highway, and the only solution he had was that he was too sober. He soon found his way back to Montana Avenue.

He walked in and the bartender greeted him at the door with a Bushmill's and a handshake. Jim downed the drink and allowed himself to relax as another drink found it's way into his hand.

"Figured you'd be back tonight," the bartender said.

Jim laughed. "Someday I'm going to ask how you do it, Mike."

"Ask me no questions, I'll tell you no lies."

Jim nodded. "Fair enough." He downed the second drink and looked around the bar. "More crowded than usual Mike," he observed. "What's up?"

The bartender handed Jim a third drink and winked. "It's Wednesday." Without further comment he walked back to the bar to begin tending to other customers.

It took a moment, but Jim began laughing loud and hard. Of course there was no real reason for the crowd - it just happened.

Jim walked through the bar, laughing and saluting other patrons. Once he reached the dance floor he played air-guitar for a few moments, then moved on to the throwing line of the center dartboard. There were two people playing what looked like a close game, so Jim spoke up. "Play winner."

The two people turned to face Jim. One Jim recognized as a bar regular. The other was Angie. Both spoke simultaneously. "Not a chance."

Jim clasped his hands together laughing. "My reputation kills me."

"Mr. Christopher," the man said, "even though you did lose your last match here, you still could have beaten any ten other people during the same match. I refuse."

"Same here," Angie said. "However, sweet cheeks, if you'd be willing to teach your method to me, I'll take you up on it."

"I've never taught," Jim said, "so I don't know if I could do it. And if you call me sweet cheeks again, I'll start calling you round tits."

"Ah, but how would you know?"

Jim glanced at Angie's chest then back at her face. "It's obvious," he said. "All right, I'll hold a clinic as soon as your contest is over."

Angie smiled up at Jim. "You're on, sweet cheeks."

"You like living dangerously, don't you?"

Angie went back to the game laughing, but not saying anything more.

Jim found a table and sat back watching the game. Neither player was tournament quality, so it went several rounds before Angie won, 310 to 293. Angie's opponent went to a far table to sulk while Angie joined Jim. "So," she said, "what do you need for this clinic?"

Jim finished his drink and stuck his hand in the air, his palm facing the bar, and began counting. At the count of five a rectangular case slapped against his palm and he closed his hand around it in a perfect catch.

"Your darts?" Angie asked.

Jim smiled. "Damn, he's good," he said. "I hope he pays himself well. Now do you want my method, or the generic method?"

"Well, you don't use the generic method, therefore..."

"Point made. Mike!"

"Yo Jim!" the bartender called out.

"I'm holding a clinic! I need a bottle and two glasses!"

The bartender nodded, having already arranged the necessary items on a tray. He finished serving the customer he was with and brought the tray out to the table. "Bon Appetit," he said with a wink before returning to the bar.

Jim stood up and walked to the throw line, holding his darts in his hand. He looked at Angie and asked, "Do you trust me?"

"Explicitly," she replied.

"Then keep up with me." He threw three throws, all bullseyes.

"The first thing you must learn," he began, "is to unlearn a very human perception. You need to forget how to miss." He walked back to the table and poured a drink and downed it, gesturing for Angie to do the same, which she did. She had a bit of trouble with it, and coughed a little. "Don't drink it as fast as I do," he cautioned. "I learned how to drink from Andre the Giant, and as he's gone now and I'm not teaching drinking I don't suggest you try keeping up with me.

"Now look towards the board. What is over there to hit?"

"A little dartboard," Angie said, "and a lot of wall."

"Yes, but the wall doesn't count, does it? You need to miss the wall, and you even need to miss the outer boundary of the board. Therefore, all that must be there is the scoring portion of the board." Jim downed another drink, and had Angie do the same.

"If all you can see is the board," he continued, "then that's all you can hit, right?" Jim looked at Angie, who nodded groggily. "You try it."

While Jim retrieved his own darts, Angie stood, then sat back down. "Give me a moment," she said.

Jim stood back a bit and motioned the bartender over. "Has she already been drinking tonight?" he asked.

The bartender nodded. "She's earned it."

"Excuse me?"

"Personal business. You'll have to ask her but I don't recommend it. What she's had wouldn't faze you, but most people would pass out."

Jim nodded in return. "This was a bad idea then. Sorry, Mike."

"She went into it with open eyes Jim, and she has had a rough day. I have no reason to fault you. She does need some sleep though, and she's my relief tomorrow."

"You need more employees."

"I can't afford it." The bartender walked five feet over to Angie and placed a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. "Angie, why don't you go home?"

Angie nodded and tried to stand, but failed. "I think it would be a bad idea for me to drive," she said.

The bartender looked at Jim. "Do me a favor?" he asked.

Jim sighed. "Yes, I'll drive her home."

"Thanks. Owe you."

"No you don't. But I won't forget this." Jim smiled his ironic smile.

"I know she's been after you. I don't expect you to forget this. I'll put your darts away."

Jim walked Angie to the front door of her apartment, and left her there. He was only ten feet away when he heard her drop her keys. He turned around and watched Angie pick them up, try the lock again, and drop the keys again. He sighed and walked back, picking up the keys before Angie made another attempt. He unlocked and opened the door, letting her fall in. As she stumbled, she grabbed at Jim's arm and pulled him down with her, spinning. The next thing Jim knew, he was on his back in a dark room, door closed, and Angie sitting on his chest and breathing in his face.

"Acrobatic, huh?" Angie asked.

"Yeah," was all Jim could say before his mouth was covered by hers. By the time Jim even considered resisting his arms were around her and his hands were appraising her body. She kissed down Jim's chest and rubbed one hand on his crotch, first outside of then into his pants. She sat back up on his chest, reaching behind her to keep her hand on his cock. She squeezed lightly, just enough to make Jim gasp.

Jim began tugging the shirt Angie was wearing out from its safe haven tucked in her jeans. Once done he slipped his hands under the shirt, first on Angie's back then around to her breasts. It was too dark to see so Jim kept his hands on Angie's chest as she leaned forward to kiss him again. The kiss lasted several moments before Jim sat up, so that Angie faced him sitting on his lap, hands on her bare back. Angie had to release his cock, and put arms around him.

Jim brought his breathing under control and finally said, "We have to stop."

Angie ignored this. "Want to fuck?"

Jim shook his head. "Actually, I do. Just the thought of your body against mine is something I've been picturing all day. It's an exciting image, I must say."

"Good."

"But it's only lust, nothing more."

"No problem." She started kissing his neck.

"Yes, but I love someone else. I once had no problem with recreational sex, but I have other priorities now." Jim stopped her kissing, and pried her arms from around his body and stood. Angie didn't have a good grip, so she was left sitting. Jim bent down and kissed her passionately, then stood and found the door, leaving without saying another word.

Angie was left in the dark sweating.

It was the best night of sex Jim and Karen had experienced in a while, and both were aware of it. At 2 a.m. they were floating nine feet above the bed, Karen resting on top of Jim. Karen began to lose her balance so Jim floated them down to three feet.

Karen stared at Jim, slightly wide-eyed. "What got into you tonight?" she asked.

Jim was still breathing heavy. "I needed this," he said.

"I noticed. A lot of tension, most of it sexual. Someone make a pass at you?"

Jim sighed. "Lover, you know me too well. Yeah, Angie did."

Karen allowed herself a slight knowing smile. "Thought she might. You're attracted to her."

Jim smiled his ironic smile. "My love would be an empath. Yes, I am. I think I even fell for the pass."

Karen raised an eyebrow. "You think?"

"It got to serious heavy petting before it stopped."

Karen sat up, looking at Jim's face for a moment. "That," she said, "was a brave thing to say."

Jim nodded. "It may be stupid of me, but I won't lie to you. That hasn't changed. And you should still see that I love you and that hasn't changed."

Karen stared a moment longer, then allowed herself to smile again. "I know." She kissed him. "So what do you do now?"

Jim shook his head. "I don't know. I obviously need to deal with it and get her to stop. How do I do it without hurting her?"

"I don't think that's possible anymore."

Jim nodded. "Lover, please hold me."

Karen leaned down and hugged Jim as he started to cry. "I'm glad you live here now," he managed to say. "I think I understand now how much I need you."

Karen pulled back enough to look into his eyes. "That's the smartest thing you could have said," she said. "You are the rudest, most sexist and most selfish man I have ever met. You're also the nicest, most handsome, and most kind-hearted. I love you."

She kissed him then, letting it gain passion on its own power. When they separated slightly, Jim said, "Not again. I haven't the strength."

Karen laughed. "Morning then?" She asked.

"Most definitely."

"You're on. Now sleep."

To Karen's immense surprise, Jim fell asleep instantly, still floating three feet above the bed. She eventually climbed down into the bed, but only after an hour of holding and kissing Jim in that state that barely precedes sleep, while he slept through it all.

Continued...