The Light Warrior Files
Chapter 1, Part 1: The Making of a Warrior
By Chris Ward
The alarm was what started to wake me up. What finished the job was the gradual
realization that I had nothing planned for the day, so I hadn’t set the alarm. I looked over
from my position on the bed, and immediately regretted it. 4:30 in the morning.
“Uhhnn… you gonna get that, baby?” A heavily accented, extremely sexy yet tired, voice
uttered this from my left. I looked that way with a slight smile.
“Yeah, got it.” I tried to roll out of bed, only to find my leg was still trapped in a scissor lock
with her legs, and her arm was still across my chest. “Can I have my leg back, Marita?” After
she shifted position enough for me to move, I rolled out of bed and stumbled across the
room to the phone.
“Whoever this is has about 10 seconds to convince me it’s important. Otherwise I will kill
you.” Maybe not the best way to start a phone conversation, but nobody calls me that early
and gets away with it.
“Is this Mr. Lucius Kemp?” The voice was masculine, and such a deep bass that I almost felt
it more than heard it. For no reason I could actually understand, I assumed the caller was
black. At least he pronounced my name correctly.
“Yeah, that’s me. You have about 5 seconds left.”
“Not over the phone. Too many ears listening. Meet me outside your place in an hour.” Now
what the hell could he possibly mean by that? ‘Too many ears listening?’ And I thought I had
the corner on paranoia.
“Why in the world would I do that?”
“Information on the eyes and the ears all around you. Trust me, it’s important.” Damn. I was
finally awake, and now my curiosity was getting the best of me.
“Fine, I’ll be there. How will I know who I’m looking for?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll know you.” With that rather ominous statement, my unidentified caller
disconnected.
After putting the coffee on, I took a quick shower and shaved. All the while I was recalling
what had been said about the eyes and ears surrounding me. After the shower, I poured a
cup and resumed thinking, glancing at the clock to realize I still had 45 minutes of that hour
left.
Some people get thrown a genetic curve ball. Many illnesses have a genetic factor, as well
as other issues. In my case, the genetic twist didn’t manifest physically, but in a different
manner. Physically, aside from my eyes, which are grey with green rims, I am plain vanilla.
However, I have been gifted, or cursed if you want to look at it that way, with a unique
ability. I am able to mentally manipulate light.
One of the many side effects of this ability is that, with just a couple minutes to prepare
myself, I can quite literally see the world differently than anyone else. I do this by shifting
my vision into the so-called “invisible” light spectrum, allowing me to see in the ultraviolet
and infrared ranges.
Closing my eyes, I made the first shift, into the infrared. Although this wasn’t likely to help
me find any microphones, there was at least a chance I would see something from the
cameras. Sure enough, I found four. Looks like they were positioned to give the best
possible range throughout the apartment. Well, except that one aimed at the bed. Someone
got a free show last night.
Closing my eyes again, I allowed myself to shift back to normal vision. Walking back to the
bathroom, I swallowed a couple migraine pills. Humans aren’t meant to see into those
ranges, and forcing myself to do so always leaves me with a killer migraine.
Anyway, there was no need to shift to the ultraviolet, as I had my answer. Somebody had
their eyes and, probably, ears on me. My immediate instinct was to beam all the cameras,
but I stopped myself just before doing so. First of all, I wasn’t certain that those 4 were the
only cameras, or even the only devices, installed. It was conceivable that there were other
devices I had not located which would see me doing just that. More importantly, whoever
had planted those cameras in the first place had already proven themselves capable of
entering my loft, completely unobserved, and installing them. If I destroyed the ones I
found, which were only found because of my caller, replacing them would be all to easy. I
wasn’t overly happy about that fact, but there it was.
Chapter 1, Part 1: The Making of a Warrior
By Chris Ward
The alarm was what started to wake me up. What finished the job was the gradual
realization that I had nothing planned for the day, so I hadn’t set the alarm. I looked over
from my position on the bed, and immediately regretted it. 4:30 in the morning.
“Uhhnn… you gonna get that, baby?” A heavily accented, extremely sexy yet tired, voice
uttered this from my left. I looked that way with a slight smile.
“Yeah, got it.” I tried to roll out of bed, only to find my leg was still trapped in a scissor lock
with her legs, and her arm was still across my chest. “Can I have my leg back, Marita?” After
she shifted position enough for me to move, I rolled out of bed and stumbled across the
room to the phone.
“Whoever this is has about 10 seconds to convince me it’s important. Otherwise I will kill
you.” Maybe not the best way to start a phone conversation, but nobody calls me that early
and gets away with it.
“Is this Mr. Lucius Kemp?” The voice was masculine, and such a deep bass that I almost felt
it more than heard it. For no reason I could actually understand, I assumed the caller was
black. At least he pronounced my name correctly.
“Yeah, that’s me. You have about 5 seconds left.”
“Not over the phone. Too many ears listening. Meet me outside your place in an hour.” Now
what the hell could he possibly mean by that? ‘Too many ears listening?’ And I thought I had
the corner on paranoia.
“Why in the world would I do that?”
“Information on the eyes and the ears all around you. Trust me, it’s important.” Damn. I was
finally awake, and now my curiosity was getting the best of me.
“Fine, I’ll be there. How will I know who I’m looking for?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll know you.” With that rather ominous statement, my unidentified caller
disconnected.
After putting the coffee on, I took a quick shower and shaved. All the while I was recalling
what had been said about the eyes and ears surrounding me. After the shower, I poured a
cup and resumed thinking, glancing at the clock to realize I still had 45 minutes of that hour
left.
Some people get thrown a genetic curve ball. Many illnesses have a genetic factor, as well
as other issues. In my case, the genetic twist didn’t manifest physically, but in a different
manner. Physically, aside from my eyes, which are grey with green rims, I am plain vanilla.
However, I have been gifted, or cursed if you want to look at it that way, with a unique
ability. I am able to mentally manipulate light.
One of the many side effects of this ability is that, with just a couple minutes to prepare
myself, I can quite literally see the world differently than anyone else. I do this by shifting
my vision into the so-called “invisible” light spectrum, allowing me to see in the ultraviolet
and infrared ranges.
Closing my eyes, I made the first shift, into the infrared. Although this wasn’t likely to help
me find any microphones, there was at least a chance I would see something from the
cameras. Sure enough, I found four. Looks like they were positioned to give the best
possible range throughout the apartment. Well, except that one aimed at the bed. Someone
got a free show last night.
Closing my eyes again, I allowed myself to shift back to normal vision. Walking back to the
bathroom, I swallowed a couple migraine pills. Humans aren’t meant to see into those
ranges, and forcing myself to do so always leaves me with a killer migraine.
Anyway, there was no need to shift to the ultraviolet, as I had my answer. Somebody had
their eyes and, probably, ears on me. My immediate instinct was to beam all the cameras,
but I stopped myself just before doing so. First of all, I wasn’t certain that those 4 were the
only cameras, or even the only devices, installed. It was conceivable that there were other
devices I had not located which would see me doing just that. More importantly, whoever
had planted those cameras in the first place had already proven themselves capable of
entering my loft, completely unobserved, and installing them. If I destroyed the ones I
found, which were only found because of my caller, replacing them would be all to easy. I
wasn’t overly happy about that fact, but there it was.
