Free Psion Delta by Jacob Gowans

scans, more people wanting to hear descriptions of what Sammy
had purportedly done at Baikonur. Three of the Psion commanders arrived along
with some of the higher-ups in the Tensai and Ultra corps. When Commander Byron
appeared, he checked on Sammy and asked about his recovery before speaking at
length with Dr. Rosmir and the other commanders about how they could have Sammy
demonstrate the unique blasting method without reinjuring himself. They decided
to bring in a team of medical engineers who debated the problem for over two
hours while Sammy played basketball by himself in a gym and tried to get his
leg to loosen up. Finally they brought him into a room marked LABORATORY that
looked more like a giant, messy shed with expensive, advanced equipment. The
engineers had set up two liquid nitrogen canisters that would spray
ultra-cooled air on his thumbs as he blasted.
    “Any
burning sensation at all, Samuel, and I want you to stop,” Byron said.
    “Or
biting cold, for that matter,” one of the engineers said.
    “Right,”
Commander Byron agreed. “No need to injure yourself again.”
    Sammy
nodded and let the engineers position his hands as they wanted. The other
commanders, doctors, and unnamed people stood back and watched as laser sensors
were set up to measure the temperature around Sammy’s hands. Sammy looked to
Byron for reassurance. The commander gave him a nod.
    “Okay,”
one of the engineers announced, “we’re ready!”
    Sammy
focused on his thumbs, concentrating on putting a blast solely through them. He
felt the energy shooting from them, but it wasn’t hot. He screwed his face in
concentration until his head and neck muscles, taut and aching, trembled like
he was having a seizure.
    “Nothing
so far . . . ” an engineer said with a tone in his voice that betrayed heavy
skepticism.
    This
made Sammy angry and he bent his mind even more on the energy moving to his thumbs.
His body stiffened as he focused every particle of his mind to the task. The
liquid nitrogen sprays turned on as heat shot from his thumbs, not burning him
at first, but growing steadily hotter as if he held them over a candle.
    “That’s
it!” the same engineer cried. “That’s it!”
    Sammy
stopped as soon as the pain became too much to bear. Commander Zahn, who’d been
watching computer displays over the engineers’ shoulders, let out of a cry of
shock. “Did you see that?” he asked Iakoka.
    “Of
course we saw it,” Commander Iakoka responded tersely.
    Sammy
looked at his thumbs as Dr. Rosmir approached. They were red and throbbing and
his left had a small blister on it.
    “Second-degree
burns,” Rosmir muttered with a tsk.
    “Fifteen
hundred degrees Standard!” the engineer announced. “Easily hot enough to melt
through steel.”
    Byron
came over and looked at Sammy’s hands with the doctor. “Why are his thumbs
barely burned?” he asked.
    Dr.
Rosmir shook his head as he continued to look over Sammy’s skin. “Did the
liquid nitrogen help?”
    “Yeah,”
Sammy answered, “for a bit. It kept getting hotter until—”
    “Let
me try it,” Byron said.
    “Commander
. . . ” Dr. Rosmir began.
    “I
only want a shot at it to see if it can be duplicated. You have any tips you
want to offer me, Samuel?”
    Sammy
explained to his commander what he tried to do to make it work. The engineers
set the test back up and Sammy stood back to watch as Dr. Rosmir treated his
thumbs with cooling injections. After fifteen minutes had gone by with no
success for Byron, Commander Zahn asked to give it a go. He had the same result
as Byron, despite his face turning red and muttering several Arabic swear
words. Iakoka attempted it next. Sammy had to turn away as she tried in order
to not laugh at the constipated expression on her face. When Iakoka failed,
Havelbert declined an invitation.
    The
engineers wanted Sammy to perform a “heat blast” again, but Dr. Rosmir advised
against it, pointing to Sammy’s new burns and the