Sean awoke on a hospital bed cranked into reclining position. Who the heck is paying for this room, was his first muddled thought, for it sure as shit isn't mom's health insurance.

"Sean, you are awake!" his mom's face was tight with strain, her voice choked with relief. Winona Cook was huddled in a couch that had been dragged upto his bed. She was a slender woman with features classic to her Sioux ancestry. She looked like she hadn't slept much last night. Sean felt a stab of misplaced guilt.

"Mom, we can't possibly afford all this" protested Sean, waving his hand around the room, wincing as the motion tugged on an IV catheter plugged into his arm. If insurance administrators actually had hearts, this suite was large enough to induce cardiac arrest in them. The flat screen TV was larger than their dining table back home. Was that a programmable multi-nozzle thermostatic shower over there at the far end?

"Sean... relax," his mother looked bemused for a moment and then gave a small smile, "don't worry about the bill. The DOE is taking care of everything."

"DOE?" Sean frowned.

"Department of Energy," Winona clarified, "they are in charge of Brookhaven Lab. I guess they're afraid of being sued and want to butter us up."

"Ah," Sean nodded in understanding, "How long was I out?"

"You were unconscious all night," she muttered, "since that damn fool accident yesterday. And the doctors couldn't figure out what was wrong with you. I don't know what they were thinking. Exposing students to dangerous experiments. Do you remember what happened? The DOE liason was pretty tight lipped. I am in the mood for a lawsuit."

"There was a bright light..." Sean frowned, then his face grew alarmed, "wait, how much radiation was I exposed to ? Did they say?"

"No, your badge came back negative, thank goodness," Winona shook her head, "and I had the doctors check you for radiation sickness, just in case the DOE was lying."

"Whew, that's a relief," Sean relaxed, "I wasn't ready to kick the bucket just yet."

"Don't joke about something like that," his mother scolded, "Anyway, that DOE woman insisted on putting you through lots of MRIs, to make sure. Although she wouldn't let the hosiptal give us a copy of the results, until I threatened to go to the press. And she has more tests lined up for you once you woke up. We can't go home just yet. I guess the DOE really wants to cover its ass."

"But I feel fine, mom" Sean protested, "Where are we anyway?"

"Winthrop-University Hospital," Winona clarified, "your dad and I drove up last night, as soon as your school called us. He just stepped out to grab a bite from the cafeteria. Speaking of which, I think that's him."

The door opened to admit Sean's dad, carrying a couple of brown paper bags. Andrew Cook's face lit up with a brilliant smile when he saw Sean awake. He still looked a bit like the boyish engineer he used to be, though there was evidence of a receding hairline and a losing battle with a pot belly.

"Sean, my boy," he tousled Sean's hair playfully as if his son was still eight, "you gave us quite a scare."

Sean grinned and they fist bumped, "Dad, let's get out of here."

"Not so fast, kiddo," Andrew shook his head, "Megan wants to run a few more tests. What's the hurry? You get to live it up on the taxpayer's dollar for one more day."

"Who's Megan?" Sean asked absently, reaching for the TV remote clipped to his bed.

"The DOE woman I was telling you about," snorted his mother, "Your dad has taken quite a shine to her."

"I have not," retorted Andrew, his face growing pink, "I... anyway it's for Sean's own good."

Sean and his mom rolled their eyes. His dad could be quite naive sometimes.

"You don't have to sit here watching TV," Winona looked pointedly at Sean, "I brought all your books. I know you have a test coming up in two days."

Sean turned to the bedstand and groaned. All his textbooks were stacked on it. Winona had a touching faith in her son's academic destiny. She insisted that Sean try and test out of basic classes at every opportunity to pursue advanced placement courses.

"You get a call that your son is in a coma, and your first thought is his school work?" Andrew asked sardonically, "Give the kid a break."

"Yes, Andrew," snarled Winona, "my first thought was his school work, because I care about his future. At least one of us has to. What's he going to do when he graduates in a couple of years? Become a bank teller like me? Where's the money in that? Become a part-time loser like you? I won't have it."

Andrew's mouth tightened, "I'm not a loser."

"It's been, what, two years since you were laid off?" Winona tirade was gathering steam, "and you haven't found a steady job since then. I don't want our son to end up like you. Or worse, flipping burgers. It's a tough world out there. If he isn't the best of the best, he'll end up as a wage slave. It's bad enough that I have to work my heart out at the bank, to make ends meet."

Here we go again, Sean grimaced rolling his eyes. It always came down to this. To Sean. Their son was the perfect excuse for his parents to pick a fight. It was a marvel they were still married.

"My options are limited in Portsmouth," Sean's dad growled, "due to the specialized nature of my field. You were the one who wanted to settle down in Cardiff where the mortgage is so high..."

"Yes, Andrew," Winona was not to be derailed, "because it's the best school district. Because I care."

"You know what," Andrew's face was red with anger, "I'm not staying here and taking this shit. Especially from you." Sean's dad stormed out of the suite, slamming the door.

"That's right, Andrew," Winona yelled after him, "Run. Run away like you always do. Instead of facing your problems like an adult."

"You didn't have to be so hard on him, mom," Sean ventured after an awkward silence.

Winona didn't reply to that, "I need to get back to work, Sean. Not too many vacation days left for me. I'll be back to pick you up when they discharge you. Will you be OK?"

Sean nodded. He sighed and clicked on the remote after his mom left, flipping through channels. The news was mostly bad as usual. Russia had chosen to formally recognize Ostland, the rogue nation that had sprung up to dominate Eastern Europe since the fall of the Soviet Union, thus breaking rank with US foreign policy. Sean couldn't really blame them. Russian oil export pipelines passed through Ostland on their way to Western Europe. NATO forces were on high alert after GORGON - the shadowy political entity that governed Ostland - had decided to probe Austrian airspace with fighter jets.

US forces in Afghanistan were bogged down fighting insurgent cells in unforgiving terrain, and had requested more automated combat units. In related news, Fuller Dynamics stock price had gone through the roof as they secured a second contract to supply the army with their Cereborg land-based hunter drones. Which meant Jason Fuller's family was getting even richer. Sean scowled. The frat prat would be even more insufferable. There simply wasn't any justice.

A nurse came to remove his IV catheter, much to his relief. A hot luxurios shower, after the nurse left, lifted Sean's mood a little. He paused to look in the full length mirror after a change of clothes. Straight shoulder length hair that was as dark as his mom's. His face had been sculpted in equal parts by his Native American heritage on his mother's side and European heritage on his father's side. His reflection stared back. What exactly did his mom and teachers see in him? Sean knew he wasn't stupid. He enjoyed playing around with complex concepts, he especially loved the 'Ah hah' moments when encountering mind blowing ideas. But he lacked the perserverence - for want of a better word - to slog through schoolwork the way Mei-Ling did. That was his Achilles heel.

It was so tempting to give into self-pity. What did the future have in store? The idea of slogging for a soulless corporation, like his mom and dad did, filled Sean with a deep and abiding dread. He plopped down into the padded couch beside his bed, head resting in both hands. The stack of textbooks his mom had so thoughtfully placed on his bedstand loomed in the corner of his eye. There was a magazine rack attached to the bedstand, and the glossy covers beckoned him with alluring images of young actresses. He reach for a magazine, promising himself that he would get to his textbooks in a minute.

A tingle went up his arm, as Sean grabbed the magazine making him drop it. He paused feeling slightly woozy. Was it the hot shower? What had just happened to him? Wait.. had he just memorized the entire magazine? Every article and piece of trivia in it had securely lodged themselves in his mind, almost as if he had studied the magazine in greater detail than he would ever wish to. Sean glanced at the wall clock. Hardly anytime had passed since he had touched the magazine. He randomly reached out for the physics text on the top of his stack. His fingers made contact with the hardbound cover. Nothing. Hmm. He pulled the book on to his lap and flipped open the cover. He touched the first page - which happened to be blank - and nearly passed out from the shock.

Sean choked his rising bile, leaning back in his couch. He felt exactly as he might have, if he had ever managed to pull an all-nighter with Volume 1: Resnick & Halliday. Not something he would have wanted to attempt. He could now recall most chapters with all of their mathematical subtleties, exactly as if he himself had studied every problem thoroughly. No wonder I feel so exhausted, marveled Sean. But how? That was the question. The wormhole. The alien intelligence on the other side. The memories came flooding back. That had been no dream. But why had he been bestowed with this ability? A diplomatic gift perhaps, to mark First Contact with another species?

Sean felt a chill despite the warmth of the room. First Contact with his dad's ancestors had been catastrophic for his mom's ancestors. Mom's forebears too had received gifts of fabric that were seemingly innocuous but turned out be intentionally infected and deployed as biological weapons by Dad's side. And that had just been contact between tribes of Homo Sapiens. What sort of damage might be inflicted by a hostile super-intelligence? And Sean had distinctly received the impression of unfriendliness, if such an emotion could even be attributed to something so non-biological.

Well... the why of it could wait. He needed to investigate the limits of his newfound ability. Sean touched the open page of his physics text again. No effect. Already assimilated knowledge apparently had no effect. Which made sense. There were also some chapters he still didn't fully understand, probably because he wasn't familiar with the underlying math. Sean filed that realization for future use. He would have to "scan" all the prerequisite reading material before he could get full use out of his ability.

He got up and rummaged through the mahogany paneled drawers on the wall until he found medical latex gloves. He put on the gloves and flipped open his remaining textbooks. No effect. His ability did not work through latex. Well, it didn't work through hardbound covers either. Perhaps it only worked on information printed on contiguous stacks of paper ? An idea... Sean went back to the drawers and pulled out paper envelopes of all sizes. Still wearing his gloves, he picked up a newspaper wedged under his textbooks and stuffed into an envelope. Pulling off his gloves, he then touched the sealed envelope. A slight tingle. Sean suddenly knew every news tidbit and ad piece reported on a certain day in August 2016.

Sean's mouth split into a grin. His ability worked through sealed envelopes on documents in contact with the inside surface of the paper envelope. If nothing else, he could spy on confidential documents by working as a courier. Better hold off on that. He wasn't keen on going to jail, if there were other options. Maybe he could offer his services as a spy for Uncle Sam? Hmm. Call that Plan B. No need to tip his hand just yet. Something told him it was easier to get into a deal with US intelligence than get out of it.

His eyes fell on the remaining stack of textbooks. Could he scan all of them at once? Sean put his gloves back on and flipped open the front and back covers of all the books, taking care not to damage them. He then sandwiched them with their front or back page in contact with the next book in the stack, forming a continuous block of paper. He took his gloves off again and gingerly reached out to touch the first open page of the top most book. This time he passed out...

Sean woke up a few hours later with a splitting headache and a bleeding nose. He made a mental note never to try that again. His ability had knocked him out before he could absorb any knowlege from the stack. He would have to pace himself, perhaps limiting himself to one book a day. He might actually consume his entire syllabus in a few weeks. And if he carefully worked his way through a book 'tree' schedule to maximize understanding - perhaps with Mei-Ling's input - he might actually ace every AP test his school had to offer. He wondered how his mom would react to that. Might she dissolve in pure rapture? Hysterical laughter bubbled up in Sean's throat.

END OF CHAPTER