
Max, alone in his third-floor room of a converted student rooming-house, discovers that flames are wrapping harmlessly around his naked body. He stands amid the fire until Fran walks in and finds him burning. He extinguishes the flames and stands nude on a scorched carpet, trying to pass the moment off lightly, but Fran recognizes what she has seen and collapses with shock. Max carries her to the sofa, retreats to his bedroom, and privately tests his power again: he levitates, rising until his head nearly touches the ceiling, while his clothes float through the air and dress themselves onto his body. Returning to Fran, he admits he does not know what he is. Her fear gives way to tenderness, and she holds him until he can speak. He describes waking from a dream of floating among tree branches to find himself actually hovering by his bedroom curtains, then later staring at a cold cup of coffee until it began to steam under his unaided gaze. He tries to explain the perception behind it: a sudden ability to see matter as interlocking fields of energy and motion, ice and water and steam as aspects of one underlying flux, which he can speed up, slow down, or redirect at will. Fran, groping for a framework, likens it to atomic and force-field theory. Max agrees and spirals into a feverish catalogue of what his "wild talent" could do - end war, feed the starving, remake his own body, remake the planet, become godlike - and confesses this scares him more than any single trick has. Overwhelmed, he weeps in her arms. In a moment of longing for closeness, he wills her clothing away without touching her; Fran is instantly thrust back into terror, calling it violation, and the tenderness breaks. As he reaches for her again, Max's perception shifts entirely: he looks through and beyond Fran's physical form into layered patterns of subatomic order - a precise, simple matrix beneath, and above it a vast, unruly complexity he identifies as life itself, which repels him even as he begins to reach toward it. Fran, seeing him go somewhere she cannot follow, screams his name, physically attacks him to break the trance, and flees, telling him he is no longer Max and that he has gone mad. Left alone in the dark, Max sinks into despair, recognizing that his power over matter is meaningless without the human connection he failed to sustain with Fran, and that his fear of his own feelings left him unable to hold onto her when it mattered. Concluding that he is unfit to possess such power - comparing himself to a child handed a razor - he decides on an ending befitting its scale: he sets himself alight in his chair, watches the flames consume the upholstery and his own body, and deliberately releases his hold on the forces maintaining his physical form, letting himself burn away. In the story's final line, Fran, asleep and troubled, is shown floating five inches above her bed.
By Ted White · First published 1963 · Genre: Science Fiction, Psychological Fiction, Tragedy · 4,241 words
_From nowhere had come the flames. giving him life and death together. Now he summoned them again, not knowing the depths -- or heights -- of his power._
He lived. He was aware. He was everything in his world. He was.
psychic-powers · wild-talent · telekinesis · levitation · fire-powers · matter-manipulation · transcendence · self-immolation · suicide · science-fiction · tragedy · godlike-power
Phoenix is listed on Textopian as a short story by Ted White, dated 1963 CE.
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