Kopano kept silent. He was worried that anything he might say would only egg Nicolas on. He stood by, waiting for the tension to break. Or, waiting for Nicolas to take a swing. He would stop him, if it came to that. He wasn’t going to let the superstrong Belgian hurt anyone, even if Vontezza was literally asking for it.
Finally, Nicolas snorted.
“You’re a freak,” he said, glaring at Vontezza. “An animal. And you shouldn’t be here. We should’ve exterminated all your kind the second you lost the war.”
Nicolas tossed the mace on the floor, where it clattered around and dented the tiles. He scowled at Kopano and then began to slowly back away. His friends followed.
With her telekinesis, Vontezza picked up her weapon and secured it. She nodded to Nicolas.
“If you change your mind, I will be here,” she said. “Waiting.”
When they were gone, Kopano breathed out a long sigh of relief. Vontezza, meanwhile, seemed unaffected by the entire incident.
“Would you really have let them do that to you?” Kopano asked.
She looked at him, a tiny vein pulsing in her tattooed neck.
“You should not have stood against your friends,” she said, dodging the question. “They will remember that.”
“We need to look out for each other until this mess with Earth Garde is sorted out. We’re all on the same side here,” Kopano replied. “They’ll realize that, eventually.”
“You are honorable,” Vontezza said. “But unfit to lead.”
“Um, thanks?”
“Now,” Vontezza said, her piercing gaze locked on Kopano. “Show me how I might become more human.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
NIGEL BARNABY
THE HUMAN GARDE ACADEMY—POINT REYES, CALIFORNIA
“I HEARD THEM PAGE YOU BEFORE, DEAR,” BEA Barnaby said, once again seated on the edge of her cot with her legs primly crossed. “I do hope that you aren’t in any trouble.”
Nigel sat across from his mother, the metal chair dented from his outburst following their previous encounter. He smiled thinly. Bea didn’t know it yet, but this would be the last time they spoke down here. It’d taken a day spent making sure none of his freaked-out classmates decided to flee campus, but Nigel had at last come to a decision about what to do with his mother.
“You know I’ve never been much for authority,” Nigel said. “Kinda my thing.”
“Yes, I suppose this is when I should blame your rebellious behavior on that contemptible punk rock,” Bea said. She lowered her voice, as if letting Nigel in on a secret. “But, truth be told, your father and I were never ones to play by the rules either. You get that from us.”
Nigel bristled. The woman knew exactly how to press his buttons. Knowing that she was doing it didn’t seem to help.
“I’m not like you,” he replied with more passion than he would’ve liked.
“No, of course not,” Bea replied with an indulgent smile. “It’s happening like I predicted, isn’t it? This mad little Academy is being brought under control.” When Nigel didn’t immediately respond, she continued, her voice more sincere than taunting. “You must know it will be easier if you don’t fight it. Safer. For both of you,” she added, glancing away from Nigel.
Taylor stood at the back of the cell with her arms crossed.
“You don’t get to have this place, Bea,” Taylor said. “Or maybe you do. But it’ll just be a lot of empty buildings. You don’t get to have us.”
“I like you, Ms. Cook,” Bea said. She turned her attention back to Nigel. “I like her. She touched this whole conflict off in a way, didn’t she? Our reports had her down as meek and pliable, afraid of her own Legacies. We didn’t expect her to be so volatile when we recruited her.”
“Kidnapped me,” Taylor corrected.
“Yes, well, I admire a young woman with convictions, even if we fundamentally disagree.” Bea lowered her voice again, speaking to Nigel. “Perhaps you two should date.”
Nigel snorted. “Mum, I’m gay.”
Bea raised an eyebrow and sighed. “Will these little rebellions never cease, Nigel?”
Nigel wanted to lunge forward and strangle her. Bea, of course, chose that moment to double over in a fit of coughing, the back of her hand pressed to her mouth. When she straightened back up, her eyes were red-rimmed and flecks of black ooze writhed in her pale cheeks.
“Last chance to be of use, then,” Nigel said quietly. “Do something good for a change.”
“Last chance before what?” Bea asked, her voice raspy. “Is this the last time you’ll offer to heal me in exchange for information? Is that why Taylor’s here?” Bea scoffed. “Please.”
“Tell us who the Foundation has inside Earth Garde,” Nigel said. “Tell us everyone that’s been compromised.”
Bea made a face, like the question was silly. “We have sources, I’m sure. Like that frumpy headshrinker you keep locked up down the hall. Sad little thing cries herself to sleep most nights.” She tapped her lips in thought and Nigel noted the dead black spot beneath her fingernail. “Perhaps there are a few high-ranking collaborators within the organization. If they exist, I honestly don’t know who they are. If you’re looking for some mythical enemy that you can put under citizen’s arrest and end all your problems, you’re wasting your time. The Foundation is a hydra and you will never have enough swords.”
“Tell us about Greger Karlsson,” Taylor said.
“Who?” Bea replied.
Nigel studied his mother’s expression. She honestly looked baffled. The name hadn’t rung any bells.
“He works for Earth Garde,” Nigel said. “They’ve put him in charge of drilling holes into our brains.”
“Oh, that Swedish striver?” Bea chuckled. “What do you want to know? If I remember our reports correctly, Karlsson was the type of man to never pass up a promotion. Ultimately, though, bureaucrats like him are a dime a dozen. They’ve got no real power and are easily replaced. Not worth the investment.”
“What do you have on him?” Taylor pressed. “We know how the Foundation leverages people. What are you doing to make him act like this?”
Bea cocked her head. “Sometimes we apply pressure, that’s true. But I wasn’t aware of any operation concerning Karlsson. If he’s involved in regulating your kind, consider that he honestly believes it’s the right thing to do. Is that such a far-out viewpoint, dear? Do you think the Foundation is blackmailing every person who believes Garde are a danger to humanity? We’re rich, but not that rich.”
Nigel’s lips compressed. He turned his back on Bea so that he could make eye contact with Taylor.
“Anything else you want to ask her?” Nigel said. “Or can we stop wasting our time?”
Taylor considered that for a moment. “Do you feel any remorse?” she asked Bea. “For the people you’ve hurt? The people you’ve killed? For the messed-up world that you greedy assholes have helped create?”
“Oi, there’s an interesting line of questioning,” Nigel said, turning back to face Bea. “Basically, my lovely friend here is wondering if you’ve still got a soul, Mum.”
Bea looked unamused. “Do you feel remorse for saving the life of a killer, Ms. Cook?” she countered. “Does it bother you that in sparing Einar, you’ve no doubt endangered the lives of countless others?”
“Yes,” Taylor said without missing a beat. “That does bother me.”
Bea nodded as if she suspected as much. “When you’ve grown up, you’ll learn how to set those feelings aside.”
“Maybe,” Taylor said. “But until that day, I guess I’m going to feel guilty for a lot of things. Like what I’m about to do to you.”
“Right,” Nigel said, standing up and getting out of the way. “Have at it.”
Taylor pushed off the wall and came towards Bea. Nigel was at least pleased to see his mother flinch. Even as a prisoner, Bea thought she was in control. But, when Taylor roughly grabbed the older woman’s face in her hands, he saw a brief flash
of fear in Bea’s eyes.
“Relax, Bea,” Nigel said. “You’ve won.”
Bea let out a low moan as Taylor healed her. Nigel could see the veins of the Mogadorian ooze crackle beneath his mother’s skin, the stuff somehow struggling against Taylor’s Legacy. It took a couple of minutes—Nigel had seen Taylor heal bullet wounds quicker—but eventually Taylor let Bea go, wiping some sweat off her forehead. Bea sank back on her cot, breathing heavily.
“Feel better now?” Nigel asked. He looked to Taylor. “Did you cure the bitchiness while you were at it?”
“Doubt it,” Taylor said.
Bea looked up at him with a mixture of surprise and disappointment. “Why—why would you do that? My health was your only leverage . . .”
Nigel rolled his eyes. It was always about the angles with his mother. She was displeased that Nigel had forfeited his one advantage, like she’d been taking some demented pride in her son’s hardball negotiation stance.
“Because we’re done talking,” Nigel told her. “I’d been thinking that if I kept you down here long enough, I might be able to pry some information out of you. Maybe even catch sight of a spark of decency in that black heart of yours. But, not only are you full-blown evil, you’re bloody useless. I don’t think you know anything that can help us. I think you’re scared. Maybe of Einar, maybe of some of your old friends at the Foundation who think you’ve lost the thread. You’ve been happy down here, letting us keep you safe. Well, that’s over now, love.”
Nigel took Bea by the arm and stood her up, brushing creases out of her sweat suit.
“What do you plan to do?” Bea asked, and for once Nigel thought he detected a shakiness in her tone.
“We’re turning you over to Earth Garde,” Nigel said. “You, Linda and that tit whose name I always forget.”
Bea guffawed. “I’ll be free before the sun sets.”
“Maybe,” Nigel said with a careless shrug. “We’re also sending along all the evidence we’ve got. Taylor and I recorded statements about what you’ve done. Killing those soldiers in London, the warship in Siberia, that mess in Iceland. How you orchestrated Sydal’s death. I think we covered everything. Plus, you know, all the recordings of our little chats in here. Those don’t look so great for you.”
“My lawyers—”
Nigel shut his mother up by hugging her close and giving her a peck on the cheek.
“Bea, I don’t care,” he said in her ear. “If Earth Garde’s as corrupt as you say it is, then at least we’ll know for sure when they set you free. And, if maybe you’re overestimating your own clout and they drag you off to The Hague in chains, well, that’ll be a sunny day, won’t it? Either way, you won’t be my problem anymore. I’m emancipating myself.”
His mother, for once, fell silent. That was good—Nigel didn’t think he had another speech in him.
Nigel and Taylor escorted Bea into the hallway where the others were waiting. Professor Nine, Malcolm and Agent Walker had already brought Dr. Linda and Alejandro Regerio out from their cells, the two of them shackled together at the feet and waist. Regerio was doubled over, wheezing, and Nigel quickly got the picture that he’d tried to escape and received a punch in the stomach from Nine as a reward.
“Lady Barnaby!” Nine exclaimed. “Welcome to the party!”
“This is futility defined,” Bea said, keeping her chin high and that upper lip plenty stiff.
Nine tossed Nigel a length of chain. “You want to do the honors?”
“Happily,” Nigel replied, and set about securing his mother to the other two.
When it was done, Nigel dropped back behind the prisoners, letting Nine and Walker take the lead on escorting the shuffling group out of the subbasement. There was some humor, at least, to be found in the sight of his mother duck-walking behind Dr. Linda.
“You okay?” Taylor asked as she sidled up beside him.
“Oh, I’m right as rain,” Nigel said, trying to keep his tone light under Taylor’s probing gaze. “I’m officially an orphan. Most free I’ve ever felt.”
“I’m not very close with my mom either,” Taylor said. “I mean, she’s not part of a global conspiracy, she’s just kind of spacey and crappy with keeping promises. But, you know, I get it. I always thought one day she’d come around and realize what a cool person I am and want to hang out with me.”
“If Bea ever thinks I’m a cool person, I’ll jump off a bridge,” Nigel said. “But thanks. And thanks for healing the evil wench.”
“No problem. Sparing her from a slow death, wow, we really showed her,” Taylor said.
Nigel snorted. “Yeah. Hope she learned her lesson.”
Their dour procession made it out from beneath the Academy and continued across the quad. They passed by a small group of tweebs working on their telekinetic control. None of them said anything, but Nigel could sense them staring. His shoulders knotted together, a feeling of shame welling up in him. That was his mom, there. Evil queen of the Foundation. Everyone have a look at the rotten tree he’d descended from.
The sun was already getting low as they crossed the lawn and headed beyond the barricade. Omar and Lisbette stood guard there and Nigel knew there were a couple others hiding in the trees, waiting to signal if the Peacekeepers tried something. They’d almost made it through one day of being an unsanctioned Academy. Nigel allowed himself a small smile. At least his mother would be wrong about her prediction that she’d be free by sunset.
No one spoke. The only noise was the wind whipping across campus and the clinking of chains. Finally, as the ruined track came into view, Dr. Linda cleared her throat.
“I want to apologize for what I did,” she said, her voice small and scratchy. “I realize it’s no excuse, but I was coerced . . .”
“We included that in our report, Linda,” Malcolm said, not unkindly. He fingered the USB drive with all their Foundation-related evidence loaded onto it.
“Yeah,” Nigel added. “Hopefully the fascists go easy on you, Doc. And just so you know, I didn’t think our sessions were a complete waste of time.”
“Thank you, Nigel,” Linda replied. “That’s nice of you to say.”
The wreckage of the Mogadorian skimmer came into view. It was guarded by a handful of Peacekeepers in radiation suits. They started at the Academy group, all of them hoisting those Inhibitor cannons that Nigel got all too familiar with during that game of capture the flag.
“Hold!” a voice shouted from near the trees. Colonel Archibald appeared with another group of armed Peacekeepers, although this bunch didn’t raise their weapons. Archibald must have seen their approach on the security cameras and come out to meet them.
Nine held up their group, keeping them at a safe range from the Peacekeepers. “How’s it going, Archie? We brought you a present.”
“What now, Nine?” Archibald asked, narrowing his eyes at the three prisoners. “You know I’m under orders to bring you in.” He glanced at Taylor. “All of you.”
Nigel snorted, but for once kept his mouth shut. No reason to fan the flames further.
Nine turned to look at Walker. “Over to you, Karen. If you end up in prison, it’s been nice knowing you.”
“Yeah, good luck to you, too,” Walker replied, accepting the USB drive from Malcolm. Then, she gave a yank on Regerio’s chain and pulled the trio of prisoners forward. With her other hand, she held up her badge. “Colonel Archibald! My name is Special Agent Karen Walker and I’m working under the remit of the intelligence agency known as Watchtower. These three people stand accused of a number of capital crimes. I’m formally requesting your assistance and protection until they can be transferred to an appropriate location.”
Archibald listened to all that with his usual stoicism, then grunted something to his men. A couple of the Peacekeepers came forward to help Walker with her charges.
“Think it’ll stick?” Taylor murmured to Nigel.
“Do you?” Nigel replied.
“I think we can trust Arch
ibald,” Taylor said. “He’ll at least try.”
Nigel watched the Peacekeepers take charge of his mother. He waited for her to look over her shoulder or make some snide comment in parting. But Bea never so much as glanced back at him. It was over between them. Done. Nigel hoped to bask in the satisfaction of seeing his mother corralled, but all he felt now was that same sense of loneliness that pervaded in his earliest days at Pepperpont when he would stay up nights hoping his parents would come pick him up.
He was well and truly on his own now.
With a brief glance at his soldiers, Archibald crossed the field to approach the Garde. He kept his hands raised the entire time. Nigel noted dark patches of sweat on the man’s armpits. Seemed everyone was equally nervous.
“I’m getting transferred out tomorrow,” Archibald said without preamble. “They want me to oversee this Mogadorian surrender. After that, I’ll be reassigned somewhere else. Most of the Peacekeepers who were loyal to me have been rotated out as well.”
“Well, wish I could say it’s been fun,” Nine said gruffly. “Peace out.”
Archibald suppressed a glower at Nine’s comment. “They would’ve stormed campus today if I hadn’t stalled them. Well, John Smith’s arrival also spooked Karlsson. For now, he wants to make things as uncomfortable for you as possible, hoping you’ll surrender. But tomorrow, when I’m gone and John’s gone . . .”
“They’re coming in,” Taylor said.
“This is mad,” Nigel said, waving a hand in the direction the Peacekeepers took his mother and the other conspirators. “You realize you Earth Garde lot are being played by the Foundation, right? We just handed you a pile of evidence!”
“And I’ll do my damnedest to make sure that counts for something,” Archibald replied. “But this is a heads-up, because I appreciated the work we were doing here, whether you believe that or not. The Earth Garde coalition is falling apart. These Foundation people you’re after, they’re just taking advantage of the situation—fear, distrust, corruption—it’s everywhere. And it’s not going away overnight, no matter how many bad guys you bring in.”
Return to Zero Page 20