Post by plusx2a on Sept 27, 2018 13:51:59 GMT -8
Edison sat there motionless in the well-appointed and somewhat luxurious drawing room. Behind his expressionless eyes a small box opened. Within it were a menagerie of emotions that Edison had quietly and he thought, permanently packed away. The box slowly opened then burst into a flood of raging emotions. It was almost as if the singularity that held his consciousness together began to explode with supernova force. Memories of moments and long discarded feelings flew to the forefront as Edison’s pulse raced.
After all, despite his mien of logic and control, Edison was only human. He feels all the petty emotions everyone else does, but long ago he had come to the conclusion that these base animal instincts were a result of mostly fight or flight response and resolved to let them have no sway in his life. He took all those vulnerable parts of himself, the parts that were hurt by his mother’s suicide, by his father’s quiet disdain and from the death of his only friend, Thomas and put them away along with a million other insults, indignities, joys and passions. Unable to forget and now unable to ignore.
Thousands of little scenes played out in perfect clarity in Edison’s mind. The governess who would scold him for asking so many questions, making him feel small and unseen. The pang of loneliness he felt when his brother went off to military academy. The pain of loss after his mother took her own life and the quiet disdain his father expressed stating that suicide was for “cowards”. The rush of mixed feelings that came with puberty and his inability to confront them. His pride and joy of being accepted into the Royal Society. The warm sense of self-worth he felt when his first paper was published. The absolute heartbreak of losing his older brother. The burn of lusty attraction the first time he met Faiza. The somewhat confusing admiration Edison has for Lance. His bitter decision to end the Cornwall line to spite his father after Thomas’s death. The warmth of Ophelia’s near worship that some part of him wanted to “take advantage” of. He watched a parade of highs and lows like most others binge their favorite Netflix shows in HD. A lifetime of emotions that could be dealt with one at a time, but all at once? It was almost physically painful. His emotional life or at least what there was of it, passed before his eyes.
It all washed over him and he realized his whole life was made of missed opportunities. So focused was he on discovering the nature of the universe that the very nature of life itself not only took a back seat, but was left along a dusty road to hitchhike home. He spent a life governed by reason alone and it had lead him only to heartbreak and betrayal. The heartbreak he could put away in a dark corner of his mind, but the betrayal. It burned in him. It laid waste to his vision of civility and composure. The British veneer of stoic control was cracking under an immense weight. All these things turned into a vicious beast that just wanted to kill and/or fuck everything in its path.
At a certain point Edison saw himself standing before this beast like Fenrir or Cerebos guarding the gates of unmaking. Edison smiled at his new friend. He swelled with his own power. He reached out with it in a way he was previously afraid to do. His sensations spread over the whole of the world. He could sense every bit of matter that disturbed his placid space-time. He reached out further and could feel the satellites spinning and whizzing overhead. Further still he sensed the moon in orbit. He could feel the footprints of the men who walked there. Further still, the tons of iron that floated freely in void. Final solution, thought Edison with a sinister smile. A few choice pieces. Just enough to survive the earth’s atmosphere. Put in just the right place. There, there, there and finally a special one with some interesting densities. Edison wanted to watch the world burn.
Edison felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to look at Thomas’s face. He looked exactly as Edison remembered. Of course he did. It was a construct of his own mind. But why?
“Because you need me now Edison and I promised I would always be there for you.” Thomas spoke in soft tones with a sadness that lent gravitas to his words.
“Yes you did, but what can you do now? You are but a figment of my shattered mind, I am aware enough to know that.” Edison’s resolve still strong.
“I can remind you of yourself Edison. I can remind you of the boy, the man that his mother raised and his brother loved. I can remind you of what is right and what the costs of truth and justice are.” Thomas looked deeply into Edison’s teary eyes.
“I can tell you the cost dear brother. The cost is everything. I have nothing more. I have no family and no country. Soon, I fear I will have no career, no prospects and no future other than an ignominious death at the hands of the one man who is supposed to love me unconditionally.” Edison’s cold and sinister tone shocked Thomas.
“You have your friends now. The fate of all X’s is at stake. They need you Edison. They need your strength, intelligence and most of all character. This could be your Churchill moment. The right man in the right place at the right time. You are a man of science, peace and reason, not this monster.” Thomas pointed at the beast dominating the dark space inside Edison’s mind.
“This is a crucible Thomas. It is burning away irrelevance and honing my focus to what needs be done. Father calls it a final solution. I hate him Thomas, with a pure and intense hate I am not sure I can control or even want to control. I want to watch him die slowly not for what he did but who he is. He is a loathsome devil of a creature and I am embarrassed to have sprung from his disgusting loins.” The vitriol of the statement struck Thomas full force as he embraces Edison.
“Edison, none of us should be held responsible for things we have no control over. Father is a victim of his own upbringing just as we were. But he allowed it to embitter him and turn him into something monstrous. That is HIS X-Gene. You have to understand that in some twisted way, this is what he thinks is right and he is obviously willing to sacrifice much for it.” Stepping back Thomas holds his hands on Edison’s shoulders to look into his brother’s eyes.
“You mean sacrifice his children? How could he do that? How could he send people to kill me?” Tears streaming down Edison’s face as he tries to avoid his brother’s gaze.
“There are things that happened between father and I you do not know of. I fear that someday you will learn some truths that might bring you back to this place. I want you to promise me that you will not become that which you hate.” The beast in front of Edison morphs and shifts in shadow and smoke and slowly settles on a new image, that of Sir Edison Cornwall Sr.
“Edison! Edison! Are you OK. What happened?” Simon shakes Edison’s catatonic form.
Edison is now in the same room as before, sitting on a couch. Simons concerned face dominating his vision. All he can do is cry and reach out for some comfort which Simon kindly provides.