This is your very own first concert

Lynn looked at the neatly assembled face of red plastic squares and nodded in satisfaction.

"Great job, John. See? When you don't smash it and take your time following the rules instead, the results aren't bad, right?"

John looked down at the Rubik's Cube in his hands, then back at Lynn, and gave an emphatic grunt of agreement.

It was the first time he had accomplished something through restraint rather than violence. The feeling was unfamiliar, but it didn't seem bad.

"All right, the first stage of your patience trial is complete. Wait here a moment. I'll get your lunch and bring you the spoils I promised."

Lynn stood up, smoothed the creases in his trouser legs, swiped open the airlock door, and walked out.

At noon, the underground base's corridors felt a little more human than usual.

The aromas of various foods drifted from the vents as researchers in white coats and uniformed security personnel headed toward the main cafeteria in Area B in twos and threes.

Instead of going straight to the serving counter, Lynn turned into the logistics supply room nearby.

Since fat Bob was still in the Hospital Wing nursing his broken fingers, a young fellow named Jimmy was temporarily managing supplies.

When Lynn pushed the door open, Jimmy had both legs propped high on his desk and a pair of black headphones with thick foam cushions on his head.

A brick-sized Sony Walkman was clipped to his belt. His legs were bouncing wildly to the rhythm in his headphones, and he didn't even notice someone had come in.

On the supply room wall hung a poster for "Top Gun," which had only come out last year. The poster's edges were already a little frayed from handling.

On the poster, Tom Cruise wore aviator sunglasses and a beaming smile.

Lynn walked over and knocked twice on Jimmy's desk.

The young man jumped, hurriedly lowered his legs, and took off his headphones.

As the headphones left his ears, energetic synthesized drumbeats and Michael Jackson's unmistakable voice leaked out.

"Hey, Chief Lynn."

Jimmy fumbled to stop the Walkman. "Sorry, didn't hear you come in. What do you need today? Coffee beans or new petri dishes?"

"Neither."

Lynn leaned against the counter and pointed at the Walkman on Jimmy's belt. "Find me one of those. Doesn't need to be fancy, as long as it makes sound. A few tapes to go with it would be good, too."

Jimmy froze for a moment, then gave him a knowing smile.

"For the little blond kid? Chief Lynn, your teaching methods sure are trendy. The higher-ups specifically said he isn't allowed to hear anything besides approved classical music and brainwashing recordings."

"I'm his supervisor. If anything happens, I'll take responsibility. Just find it."

Lynn pulled two packs of Marlboro cigarettes, much sought after outside, from his pocket and slid them across the counter. "Don't fob me off with some dry symphony. Get me something young people outside are listening to these days."

Jimmy's eyes lit up. He swiftly swept the cigarettes into his drawer, then turned to rummage through the jumble of cardboard boxes behind him.

"You're in luck. During last week's big cleanup, we found an old player the previous supervisor left in the storage closet. Some paint's chipped off the casing, but the motor still works."

As he spoke, Jimmy dug out a silver-gray metal box, then grabbed a handful of colorful plastic cassette cases and set them on the counter.

"These tapes are all from my personal collection. There's Madonna, Queen, and a few current pop-rock songs. These are chart-toppers people outside have to line up to buy."

"Thanks." Lynn swept the Walkman and tapes into the roomy pockets of his white coat.

After leaving the supply room, Lynn went to the cafeteria to collect today's lunch.

Two hefty American double beef burgers, served with thick-cut fries fresh from the fryer and still sizzling with oil, plus two large cups of Coca-Cola filled with ice.

This was the most common fast food on the streets of the United States, but for John, who spent his years inside a sterile room, it definitely counted as a feast.

Lynn carried the tray back to the sterile room. The moment the airlock door opened, the distinctive sweet scent of soda and the smell of fried patties drifted inside.

John sat obediently on the padded mat. At the sight of the food in Lynn's hands, he couldn't help swallowing.

"We're having burgers today. These are also one of ordinary people's favorite things to eat outside."

Lynn set the tray on the floor, sat cross-legged, picked up a burger, and took a big bite.

Copying him, John lifted the burger, which was a size larger than his face, in both hands and bit down hard.

Soft bread and juicy patties mingled with rich cheese, instantly filling his mouth.

The little boy ate with his eyes narrowed, happily swinging his feet along the floor.

"Lynn, do ordinary people outside get to eat things this good every day?" John asked indistinctly.

"As long as they work hard and don't do bad things, they can afford it."

Lynn took a long sip of ice-cold cola and burped. "That's also why heroes have to protect ordinary people. Everyone just wants to eat a burger in peace."

John nodded earnestly and committed those simple words to memory.

When they had nearly finished eating, Lynn wiped his hands and took the chipped Walkman and two tapes out of his white coat.

"Here, take a look at today's spoils."

John put down his half-eaten burger and leaned closer curiously.

He had seen the complicated electronic instruments in the lab and the tablet Lynn brought in, but this was his first time seeing a boxy machine that needed a plastic case inserted into it.

"What's this?"

"It's called a Walkman."

Lynn picked up a cassette and nudged the black tape inside with his finger. "The outside world doesn't have superpowers like yours, but ordinary people have their own ingenuity. They put sound inside little boxes like this. Just press a button, and you can listen wherever you go."

Lynn slotted the cassette into the compartment, closed the lid, then placed the headphones with their black foam cushions over John's head.

The headphones were a little big for a six-year-old, so Lynn patiently adjusted the length of the headband for him.

"Ready? This is your very own first concert."

Lynn reached out a finger and firmly pressed the physical play button marked with a triangle.

With a faint click of gears turning inside the machine, the tape began to run.

After a few seconds of electrical hiss, the powerful drumbeats and handclaps of Queen's famous "We Will Rock You" traveled down the slightly worn headphone cable and slammed straight into John's ears.

It was completely different from the classical music played over the lab speakers to soothe him, so gentle it could put a person to sleep.

This sound was powerful, restless, and charged with intense human emotion.

John's body suddenly stiffened. His bright blue eyes flew wide, and he looked at Lynn, a little lost.

"Don't be nervous. Just feel the rhythm."

Lynn smiled and pointed at John's feet. "This is what grown-ups outside use to pass the time."

The pounding beat echoed through the sterile room. Although Lynn couldn't hear the sound in the headphones, he could see John's expression gradually shift from his initial shock to a curious concentration.

Slowly, the little boy unconsciously began nodding his head gently to that "stomp, stomp, clap" rhythm.