“THE MBL!” shouted Quinn Stevens, jumping over his hospital bed.
A nurse, who was reading some paper, caught out of surprise, screamed harder, and then ran out of the room.
Stevens looked around, unable to recognize the place. Last he remembers, he was on the roof of the Museum, and an alarm had kicked in.
The nurse returned, a doctor following her.
“Mr. Stevens, please go back to bed. You are in no condition to stand” said the doctor, raising her stethoscope.
“I am fine” yelled Stevens, pushing away the medical prop. “What happened? Why I am here?”
The doctor, a young oriental looking woman, was evidently astonished at seeing the man so in good shape. “You… you have been in a coma… for three months!”
“Three… months?”
The doctor nodded.
“And Hero… what happened to him?”
The nurse went to a closed curtain, and opened it, with a sudden movement. Behind, there was another bed, and hero was laying there, an oxygen mask covering his face.
An hour later, Quinn was standing near Hero’s bed, talking with Kent Danner, the three-and-a-half feet tall moustached Chief of Police.
“We found you on the roof of the museum… actually it was Edmund Sweeter, the Museum keeper, to found both of you. But Hero was one story below, in the Mesoamerican exhibition. Both senseless. You have been in bed since then” was saying the dwarf.
“And… what was stolen?”
“That’s the strange. Nothing was.”
“Security footage?”
“Nada. All turned into noise; we read a great amount of radiation the morning, and it took days to dissipate. It destroyed not just the footage, but also all the records in the hard disk of the computers”.
Quinn looked out of the window, to the distant gleaming city of Thunder, raising above the nearby slums of Promethean city. “And nothing strange, since then?”
Danner coughed, and shook his head. “Nothing… except someone… or something… is kidnapping kids five years old…”
