Page 27 - The Chronicles Ser2 (6-10)

“Oh; only about ten minutes ago, one of the other Greys made Brian aware of it” he replied
“They must want to try and communicate with us better” she said to the others. Miranda asked to
look at the unit. She turned it around in her hands, pressed on certain locations and finally found a
panel that could be removed.
“The circuitry is certainly not Untharan; I saw some of the Gantrax units at the Thule Academy on
Praxia. Those were recovered from a shattered Gantrax battle cruiser. The circuitry is designed to
use Polaron Energy. So it would be unwise for Humans to use it as it stands. Perhaps I can see if the
circuitry can be adapted” she said

Ben spoke next “I could adapt Unat shielding if you can’t reproduce the circuits, but it’s still going to
be a loose fit on any Human, even Max Herschel!” he chuckled.
Isaac and the two students laughed loudly at this leaving Rupert and Galena puzzled.
“Who’s Max Herschel?” Galena asked…

Gentle Giant
Max Herschel had suffered as a child, from the ridicule and taunts of his peers, to the poking
and prodding of the medical “Experts”. He had been a normal child at birth, but as he developed it
soon became apparent that there was something not quite right about his growth pattern. Both of
his parents had died not long after his second birthday, so his grandparents had raised him. There
was nothing in his family history to account for what happened to him as he turned five. No history
of any genetic or other medical issues, so it came as a shock when the changes and growth spurts
began. He became very hairy to begin with, earning him the nickname of Wolfie by the other
children. By seven he had lost all of his hair. And he had grown in height and bulk, far more than his
peers; he looked more like a sixteen year old. His head was slightly misshapen, more ape-like in the
brain cavity. The pattern continued. By the time he attended Lower Academy he looked more like a
Gorilla than a human. His DNA said otherwise. The other students were just as unkind as his earlier
peers. But his bulk and strength would soon prove to be his more useful aspects.
During the last semester of his time at Lower Academy, around the time of the end of term
party, Max and the only two friends he really had were getting in some final practice for the sports
finale. The Academy had revived an ancient sport called “Grid Iron” or Football. It turned out Max
was a natural, as were Frenzy and Grip, real names Jason Cravitz and Mort Vergon. Preparations for
the party were underway in the main sports hall when something unexpected screamed out of the
East headed for the Western Industrial complex. The complex was situated about five kilometres
from the outer Academy Campus. It crashed into one of the bio digester plants that produced
electro-gel for the storage cell factories on Genova. There was a bright flash and the resulting
explosion and shockwave were heard and felt as far as Century City.
The shockwave had a devastating effect on the roof trusses of the Sports hall. The three of
them ran into the building to help rescue casualties. The emergency services arrived soon after Max,
Frenzy and Grip. The roof had collapsed inward at the centre. Outriggers that had supported the
trusses had fallen and blocked the exits to the north and east. Rescue efforts were concentrated
there. It would never be known for certain, but a prank that other students were setting up for Max
was also housed in the roof and it was possible that this had contributed to the collapse. As nobody
owned up to it, the matter remained unresolved. The section with the “prank” had fallen intact over
a concession stand trapping five girls. Max rushed to the area and using his body’s considerable bulk
and strength managed to raise the roof section enough for rescue workers to retrieve the injured
girls. The “prank” chose the moment Max let the roof section fall to trigger.
Despite being acclaimed as a hero the pranksters had left their mark indelibly across Max’s
large forehead. Etched in permanent scar tissue was one word…

“It’s really a pity about Max, but in the end his size always made him a target. The word on
his forehead is “Old English”, he still has it today much to the amusement of kids and some of the