“Control” – Preview/Prologue
All is normal in the town of Odyssey. Thanks to the newest medical research facility having opened not long ago, the Meltsners continue living in the town they’ve always called ‘home’. And with Eugene working on the team of researchers, he becomes one of the first in the county to learn of a new medical invention. One which quickly raises questions, even if the strange device is still in it’s early testing stage. Unable to quite put a finger on the reason, Eugene finds himself to be skeptical of this newly developed device, which originated from the rather ‘hush hush’ research being conducted in Connellsville. And the last thing he ever expects, is to get the ‘opportunity’ to experience this new invention in action…
A frustrated grunt could be heard from the guy being placed in the backseat of a squad car. Police had been after the man for nearly three weeks. Their search of him hadn’t ever been far enough outside of Connellsville, seeing as it was the Odyssey Police who finally apprehended him. Even if he hadn’t turned up in the neighbouring town, finding their perp still would’ve been a challenge. The man was committing hardly more than petty crimes, but in an almost mass quantity—and in the most unpredicatble pattern, at that.
The man was bald, and his beanie had been swiped from his head during his arrest. It now plainly revealed the small device stuck to the side of his head. A ‘contraption’ so small, it looked no larger than a half-dollar coin. A tiny, hardly visible, green light still flashed at a steady and slow pace from the odd device’s insanely small antennae.
Odyssey’s police captain watched as Officer Burke shut the cuffed man inside the cruiser. He sighed. “This is definitely an odd case, Captain.” Came the comment from Dan Kern—still a long time officer on the force, who now proudly held the rank of Seargant. The Captain nodded. “Strange as I’ve ever seen, in all m’years bein’ captain here in Odyssey.”
“It’s already been called in with Connellsville, Captain O’Ryan.” Seargant Kern confirmed—anothe ofr his fellow officers being in a cruiser, calling the station in Connellsville as they spoke. Captain O’Ryan nodded. “We’ll take their fellow, here, to the facilities downtown in the meantime,” The Captain then looked over all the officers present at the scene of the suspect’s arrest. “Good work, all of y’a!”
There we’re a few nods and salutes in response. The officers carried on, now under Kern’s watch, as O’Ryan made his exit of the scene to return to the Odyssey Police Station.
With the suspect now cuffed and in the back of one cruiser, Officer Burke went and sat behind the wheel. Just before he started the ignition, his partner patted his shoulder to grab his attention. The other officer was nodding for Burke to look in the rear view mirror to get a glance of their suspect. He did so. Officer Burke paused.
The man was half squinting, looking almost as though he were experiencing an strong headache. However, he also seemed to be shaking his head every few seconds—as if attemtpting to shake off the small device located behind his ear. It was obvious he were experiencing some sort of irritation from it.
“What even is that thing behind his ear?” Officer Burke shook his head, letting out a heavy sigh. “Beats me… sure doesn’t look like any sort of hearing device I’ve seen before.” His partner shrugged. “Guess they’ll take a look at him at the station, anyways.” Burke nodded. “Soon as we get him there, I’m sure they will.”
-a month later-
It was a quiet afternoon at Whit’s End. Connie was working behind the counter, as she and her employer tackled a deep clean of the shelves underneath the soda bar counter. Simultaneously making sure there were no soda glasses, or other dishes either missing or broken. Not that it was too common an occurrence, especially on these shelves.
Mr. Whittaker made his return from the kitchen with a couple clean rags, bringing with him the radio from the kitchen. Connie looked up, practically relieved that they wouldn’t be continuing to clean with the old, now sullied rags. Though, seeing as Whit came back with the radio also, seemed to answer her unvoiced question of why he’d taken so long.
Whit had the radio turned on and tuned in to Odyssey’s local news station. Connie kept quiet, seeing the intrigued expression on Whit’s face while he listened. She silently took a rag as he offered one to her, then listened along to what the day’s news was about. Whit put the radio on the counter, and returned to helping Connie while the report continued.
“The courts have offered a plea deal to Shawson on his charges from the numerous crimes for petty theft, when Connellsville police were presented with curious evidence as to his previously unknown motives.” Connie raised a brow, and Whit noticed her somewhat clueless expression. He gave her a nod—acknowledging her confusion—but kept listening. “A researcher working at Connellsville Memorial Hospital claimed that during Shawson’s unexpected crime ‘spree’, Shawson himself may not have been in control of all his faculties—referring more so in regards to his mental state.”
“… Huh.” Whit hummed, while polishing off a soda glass. “This researcher—a newer member to the hospital’s team—claimed on the stand that Shawson could not have been responsible for his actions. However, due to a lack of further supporting evidence for this claim, the courts only proceeded to offer a plea deal.” The news station’s theme tune was transitioned in, indicating that the report was finished. For now, that was.
“That was weird.” Connie commented. “Yes, it’s certainly quite the story.” Whit agreed with a sigh. Moving on to the last of the ice cream dishes, Connie noticed the pensive look Whit seemed to have. “That news story sure caught your interest, didn’t it?” She asked. In a delayed reaction, Whit blinked—turning to look at her. “Oh, well,” He let out a short chuckle. “You could say so.” Connie smirked.
“Actually,” Whit began. “I did hear something about a failed piece of tech that almost hit the market a little while back.” At that, Connie seemed intrigued. “I don’t recall exactly what the device was for, but I heard—even before the news story—that some seem to think this device wound up playing a significant part in that man, Shawson’s, little crime ‘spree’.” Whit explained. Then, he shrugged.
“Wow… Do you know what the device was meant to do?” Connie wondered. Setting aside his polish-stained out of sight, Whit answered, “I’m not all too sure, but I do know it was designed to be worn almost like an ear piece, or hearing aid.” Connie hummed, tapping her fingers on the outside of the last, half polished ice cream dish as she thought for a minute.
“Well, anyways,” Whit made his way over to the radio. “It’s hardly anything to go on thinking too much about.” He turned the volume dial down part way. “Seems you hear about some next big invention all the time, so of course not everything will stick.” Whit simply said. “Yeah, definitely,” Connie agreed. “I’m sure I’ll probably have forgotten about this little unnamed invention in… let’s say a week, or so.” Whit laughed. “Yes, probably.”
Making his way out from behind the counter, Whit then asked, “You’re alright down here if I get some work done in my office?” Connie gave him a thumbs up. “Yep, everything’s dandy, Whit.” The man smiled, and nodded. Then, Whit made his way up to his office.
Now being practically the only person left in the ice cream Parlor—save for two kids in a booth finishing their sundaes—Connie took a seat at a barstool. She’d left her magazine on the counter to read when she had a moment, that moment being now. She slid the magazine over to herself, and turned it to the last page she’d been reading.
The two kids in the booth, having finished their sundaes, went to put their empty ice cream dishes on the counter. Then, the bell above the door chimed as they made their way to leave. Connie gave the kids a smile, and a word goodbye to them, before continuing her reading. The ice cream dishes could be tended to in a minute.
Said minute barely passed when the bell chimed again, instantaneously being followed by someone calling her name in greeting. “Good afternoon, Miss Kendall!” Connie nearly jumped in her seat at the unexpected level of enthusiasm in Eugene’s greeting. She turned to look at him. “Hey, Eugene. Thanks for the heart attack…!”
“The pleasure is mine,” Eugene answered, clearly having hardly registered her comment. Connie shook her head. “Where might I find Mr. Whittaker? I must speak with him post-haste!” Connie blinked. She noticed the thin book he, too, had. However, unlike her magazine, Eugene’s was clearly some kind of science journal or newsletter. She opted to not mention it—sparing herself whatever scientific mumbo-jumbo he’d predictably ramble to her if she did.
What she did decide to ask about, instead of the pamphlet, was the case slung over his shoulder. Due to its obvious shape, Connie could easily deduce what it was. “In his office,” She began. Eugene nodded in thanks. “And, what’s with your ukulele-?” Connie’s question was abruptly cut off. “Technically, nothing of importance, Miss Kendall. Now, please excuse me, I really need to speak with Mr. Whittaker!”
“Oh, well okay, then.” Connie rolled her eyes a little, brushing off her simple question about his bringing along the ukulele. Eugene quickly went to the staircase, leaving Connie with her reading—as he’d found her.
In his office, Whit was quietly tending to the usual book work for the shop. He usually preferred having the buzz and activity to hear while getting such work done, as it created a delightful ambience. The peaceful quiet there was, instead, didn’t bother him, though. It was still quite pleasant an atmosphere to be working in.
As Whit jotted down a few notes, there was a knock upon the partway opened office door. “Come in,” The door was opened the rest of the way—in walking Eugene. “Oh, hello, Eugene.”
“Good afternoon, Mr. Whittaker,” Eugene greeted in return. “I’ve something of importance to show you—I assumed you would be intrigued by this,” Putting aside his current task at hand, Whit saw Eugene hold out a booklet. He took it. “What is it…?” He asked, taking an initial look at the pamphlet’s cover. “An article was published in this month’s edition of Campbell Science News.”
“Which page?”
“Page fourteen, column three,” Eugene specified. “The article itself pertained to the recent case of Derek Shawson.” He continued on. “It was written by the researcher from the Board of Connellsville Hospital,” Whit nodded. “Yes… Yes I see. Professor Martins…” Whit took a moment to skim the article. A few key words jumped out at him as he did, prompting him to read it more properly. His eyes widened. “What on earth… this is unsettling.”
“I agree.” Eugene said. “And yet, I find it fascinating at the same time!” Whit blinked. “Whoever created that strange device—the one officers initially suspected to be a hearing aid—managed to, in essence, not only connect a wire to Shawson’s brain, but also to control his mind remotely!” Whit shook his head, setting the pamphlet down. “Well, if you ask me, this sounds like something straight out of a science fiction novel…!”
“Yes, that it does.” Eugene agreed. “All the same, it is still fascinating, in an extremely obscure way. I figured you would also find it as interesting as I.” Whit shrugged. “Well, maybe not as much as you seem to… but eh, we’ll see. I’ll certainly be thinking about this one for a while.”
Looking up from setting the pamphlet down, Whit noticed the cased ukulele slung across Eugene’s shoulders. “Oh! You brought your ukulele, I see.” Eugene blinked a few times, as if only now realizing the instrument was indeed still on his person. “Right, yes!” He chuckled. “I’d nearly forgotten the original purpose for my being here.”
Whit was also chuckling, getting up from his desk. “The shop isn’t too busy right now, we can head down to the workshop to test out the invention.” He said. Eugene nodded. “Very well, then,” He stepped aside from the doorway. “After you, Mr. Whitaker!”
~end of preview~
Thank you for reading, and stay tuned!
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