Static

N. D. Hansen-Hill

Static

©Copyright 2002 by N. D. Hansen-Hill. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author or publisher.

February 2003 by Parade Books, an imprint of Argyle House Press. Cover painting and design by N. D. Hansen-Hill.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

ISBN: 0-9582436-1-1
February 2003 by Parade Books, an imprint of Argyle House Press.
Cover painting and design by N. D. Hansen-Hill

Electronic edition 2002 by Parade Books; 2003 by Fictionwise

*For more information, email ParadeBooks@hotmail.com

To Byron Hansen...

Static

Burning spikes of living fire
Arrayed within like heated wire;
Potent surges to the fore,
Arced escapes to damage more

Magnetic mayhem on the rise,
Tortured truths within the lies,
Concealed from others all the while,
Fear reconciled within a smile.

Drowned 'n electromagnetic flood,
Fighting a flux that's in the blood.
Stigmatised by staticked cell,
Challenged by surges straight from hell.

Until the time when hiding fails;
Peace displaced by a friend's harsh wails.
Bioelectric migrations on the rise,
Burnout, blasts, as someone dies...

              ;           by N. D. Hansen-Hill

 
 
Prologue

 The fluffy white cumulonimbus was a wisp of vapour in the air. No traces yet of billowing grey, lashing black streaks of rain onto the land. No signs of the hardened hailstones, or hints of the electrical turmoil which would soon be stirring within. Like a newborn infant, the growing beast had no idea of its future.
 No suspicion of the latent energy that rested in its mass.
 In the house, far below and as yet, far distant, a man lay in restless dreams. The clues had all been there, but he'd never read them. Never understood his past, nor the dormant power which lurked within.
 His dreams were of hot light, and roiling energies.
 A nightmare. Only a nightmare.
 He sat up and checked the windows, seeing only a clear night with a sparkling of stars.
 Calm, peaceful. He relaxed, and wiped the sweat from his face with the sheet.
 Safe - for now.
 It was the best he could do. Take the now as it comes and don' t sweat the future.
 He smiled, a little foolishly. Only a dream.
 He, more than most, should have realised that all things change...

 
Chapter One

 Nate Leighton chucked his day pack onto the worn sofa and made a big point of tossing in a pair of socks.
 I'm not looking, Aje Morton warned him. I don't want to know. Behind Nate's back, he gestured to Brandon Weisner. There was a lot of wild pantomiming, but Brand had no trouble interpreting the mouthed no fuckin' way!.
 I saw that, Nate told them, grinning. Think of the hike -
 I am. That's the part I don't want to know about.
 Up in the mountains, Nate continued,  away from all this city air. He smiled, then shook his head disparagingly.  Damned sceptics. It's a pollution survey, pure and simple.
 Brandon Weisner snorted. 'Pure'? If it's so far away from all that pollution, why are you surveying for it?
 Because he's simple, Aje supplied.
 Nate smirked, then turned quickly, to stuff a shirt into his pack. Lichens are a great monitor of air qualit-
 I knew it was a crock! This is one of your 'collecting' trips. Aje shook his head disgustedly.  
 That's my cue to leave, Brand said. See ya.
 Aje leaned against the door, to block Brandon's exit. No way you're leaving first.