Recharge

The greasy smell of the cafeteria helped Dan come out of his daze. He downed a sandwich and a cup of hot tea in record time, and then took a moment remembering how to breathe.

'Okay.' Dan swallowed. He'd been too quick, the tea had scorched his throat. 'How bad is it?'

'Well, you can give up any hopes of going out with your blonde.' Steve took a sip of his coke. Watching Dan eat had made him a little queasy, so it was a small sip.

His friend shook his head. 'I don't care about her. I'm more concerned about myself. I don't have much power left, will it grow back?'

'Just stick something into a wall socket. You really aren't interested in her?'

'Nope. Not my type.'

'Then what is your type?'

Dan hesitated. 'I'd… rather not say.' He was suddenly acutely aware of Steve's proximity, and leaned back in his chair. The maneuver also helped relieve the gas he was starting to feel in his stomach.

'Ok.' There was a bit of an awkward silence as Steve sipped his drink.

Dan fiddled with his cup. 'Um, is there anybody you're interested in? I mean, if you don't mind my asking.'

His friend shrugged. 'There's a few girls I like, but no one in particular.'

'Okay.'

There was another long silence. 'Well. Thanks for the help.' Steve nodded absently. 'I should go.'

'Do you want to?'

Dan sat back in his seat. 'Want to what?'

'Go.'

'I...' He stared at his hands. 'I like being with you. But it's also, uh, kinda scary 'cos I'm... not a people person.' He saw Steve's friends enter the cafeteria. 'Never mind. Bye.' He was out of the chair and halfway to the back door before his friend had a chance to say a word.

Dan walked around the soccer field to the technology block. He still needed to recharge and that building had plenty of unoccupied wall sockets. Also, his next class was there.

The narrow halls were cool and empty. One of his favourite places. During class, it was noisy with the buzz of saws and pounding of hammers and human voices. The sounds always ricocheted off the plywood walls and invaded his brain. But at this time of the day, it was blessedly silent.

He went down the hall, around the corner. The fume cupboard for spray painting was there, neatly tucked away, out of sight and out of mind. A trolley was parked against the wall, sagging under the weight of flattened cardboard boxes and bits of wood and twisted metal, all discarded and forgotten.

Dan lay on the hard floor. The huge fume hood hung above him, a heavy door into a long, dark, poisonous world. He reached under the trolley for an unoccupied power socket. He would feel the power fill him, his lifeblood. I am become Death, destroyer of worlds.

Nothing happened. Dan's palm was pressed over the holes, but he felt nothing. He lay there, feeling a little embarrassed, as his new friend's words came back to him. "Just stick something in a wall socket. You really aren't interested?" That had never happened to Oppenheimer.

Dan sat up and rummaged around in the trolley for something conductive that wouldn't cut him. It took a few minutes, but eventually he found a bronze wire that someone had clumsily shaped into a trident. He bent the tips with his fingers until they matched the pattern of the power outlet, and stuck it in. Just as well he was friendless. No-one to see.