The First Cut Is the Deepest

The First Cut Is the Deepest

Freely adapted from the story "Electro and the Paper Man" in JO-JO #2, Summer 1946 (Fox)

By Jeff Deischer

Part 1: A Shock to the System

April had been rainy. It was raining now. But it wasn't just raining. The night sky flashed with lightning and boomed with thunder. Not everyone was happy about this, but it was the way Dick Darrow wanted it.

Dick – Dr. Richard Darrow, PhD – was a scientist of some small repute. Ensconced in his laboratory on Roslyn Harbor on the north shore Long Island, he'd been waiting for such a storm, for he needed it to power his latest experiment, which pertained to thought transmission. He believed that thoughts could be transmitted through the air like radio waves, except that the human body did not produce enough electricity to send them far enough to actually reach anyone, about 100 watts of power under normal circumstances. Top athletes could produce 2000, in short bursts.

"Fritz!" Dick called out to his assistant. "The storm's building! Come here!"

A thin, middle-aged man came rushing into the lab, and, as Dick gestured to the machinery with a hand, began cranking a wheel that raised an enormous lightning rod into the sky while his employer plopped himself into a chair at the base of the tower of machinery. This nearly reached the roof of the circular laboratory. Strapping himself in, Dick gave Fritz the go-ahead to activate the machine when he was done raising the lightning rod.

While the thunder crashed above their heads, Dick closed his eyes and waited.

A flash of light permeated his eyelids! Lightning had struck! Almost before he could finish this simple thought, thunder followed. The noise was deafening. Dick Darrow blacked out.

Fritz awoke first. The laboratory was in ruins. The lightning had overloaded his employer's machine, destroying it. The small man had little hope that Darrow was still alive in the wreckage, but, hauling himself to his feet, he was determined to find his body. It didn't take him long to locate it; he spotted legs sticking out fairly quickly.

As Fritz dug his employer out, he heard an odd sound. Pushing the last piece of debris away from Dick's head, he found the scientist laughing.

A few days later, on a clear night, Dick and his fiancée Ann Driscoll were parked in his coupe along the shore, not far from the scientist's laboratory. They were necking under the moon.

Breaking off a kiss, Ann said, "You should be taking it easy."

"I can't imagine anything else that would make me feel better," Dick replied with a smile.

"I'm serious, Dick."

"So am I," the redheaded scientist said solemnly. "I've never felt better since the accident. I feel literally super charged with energy.

"In fact, I've found I can do this." Raising an arm, he pointed it skyward. When a large spark erupted from Dick's hand, Ann flung herself backward in the car mouth, mouth agape. The spark shot into the night sky and exploded overhead like an Independence Day firework.

"Oh, my God!" breathed Ann.

"I know," grinned Dick. "Amazing, isn't it? That overload somehow gave me the ability to throw sparks ... it must have been my machine that saved me. The current should have killed me."

"W-what's happened to you, Dick?" Ann stammered.

Smiling, the scientist answered, "I have power."

Dick Darrow felt the scrutiny of his lovely brunette fiancée every time they saw one another over the next few weeks, and he tired of reassuring her that he was fine. But it was the only way he could stop her from taking him to a doctor, which he knew would be useless. Doctors didn't know anything about superhuman abilities. Not even scientists such as himself did, really. No one understood the mechanism by which humans became superhumans. It just happened, on rare occasions.