Return to Zero

by Pittacus Lore

  “Marina, um, well, her and John had a bit of a falling out,” Ella said, trying to sound diplomatic and adult. “She left a few weeks back. We haven’t heard from her.”

  “What did they fight about?” Nine asked.

  “When Marina saw that Five was back, she . . .” Ella gave Nine a look and shrugged, like he could fill in the blanks. “Anyway, John didn’t seem to care. So I guess Marina took off to go look for Five by herself.”

  The drama between the Garde didn’t much interest Taylor, so she walked on a little ahead. She burrowed her hands into the pockets of her sweatshirt as she reached the cave’s mouth. As she was the first one out, she was also the first one to jump back, screaming in surprise as she came face-to-face with a monster. The head of an eagle on the body of a lion, with huge wings that kept shifting to shake loose snow.

  Simon skidded to a stop beside her. “Mon dieu! It’s a griffin.”

  It was a griffin. And then it wasn’t a griffin. Before Taylor’s eyes, the huge beast shrank down into a totally adorable beagle. A Chimæra. Taylor had heard talk of the creatures, but never actually encountered any of the Loric animals. In the days after the invasion, Earth Garde had taken them all into custody. The dog panted happily at her, then bounded past so it could paw at Nine’s legs.

  “Bernie Kosar!” Nine shouted. “My dude!”

  “Sorry about that,” Ella said to Taylor and her startled classmates. “BK nests up here. Keeps watch. Makes sure that we don’t get any unexpected guests teleporting in.”

  Taylor nodded mutely. She was already beyond the presence of a Chimæra, too busy being awed by the view.

  “Beautiful,” Rabiya said. Taylor nodded agreement.

  They were high up the mountainside, surrounded on all sides by white-capped peaks. From the rocky landing they stood on, a switchback path led down to a small village. Dozens of quaint little cottages were spaced evenly along the path. At first, it looked to Taylor like the houses would surely crumble off the mountainside. Then, she noticed the stone foundations that attached them to the rocks beneath. Not attached—connected. It was as if the bases of the homes had risen fully formed from the rocks. That was no ordinary construction. Legacies built those.

  There were more of the newer-looking houses down in the village, interspersed among the villagers’ original construction, blending in. Enough space for a few hundred new occupants, at least.

  “I know they don’t look it,” Ella said, “but the houses are warm. We’ve got running water. Electricity most of the time.” She glanced at Nine. “John wants to put in a training center, but was waiting for you to help build it.”

  Nine smiled at that but said nothing. Like Taylor, he was looking down at the tableau and imagining the possibilities.

  “The force field will be big enough to protect all of this?” Taylor asked.

  “Well, technically, it’ll be three force fields cobbled together,” Ella replied. “But yeah.”

  A truck rumbled into view on the road leading into the village. Taylor stepped forward to take a closer look, her stomach clenching as she spotted armed soldiers hopping down from the truck’s bed.

  “Don’t worry, they’re cool,” Ella said, sensing her agitation. “They’re the Vishnu Nationalist Eight. A little militia that’s dedicated to protecting us.”

  Nigel scratched his cheek. “Huh. That hasn’t been our experience with army boys.”

  “Yeah, well, the villagers are nice here, too,” Ella continued. “We try not take to take advantage of their hospitality. We help out down there however we can and they protect us from outsiders.”

  Taylor stared down at the picturesque village. It was cold and remote. It was secluded and safe. It was farther from home than she’d ever been. She glanced over at Nigel and found that he was watching her. He raised his eyebrows in question. She blew out a sigh, her breath misting before her.

  “So,” Ella said, since the Academy guests had all gone quiet. “What do you think? Could you live here?”

  “It’s nice,” Taylor said. “I think it could be good. For a backup.”

  The serenity of the view was broken by Nine’s pocket buzzing incessantly. He pulled out his cell phone, his brow scrunching up.

  “Damn, I’ve got better service in the Himalayas than at the Academy,” he grumbled. Nine held up the phone so Taylor could see. “We’ve got like twenty messages from Isabela.”

  Back at the Academy, Rabiya created a Loralite stone in the center of the student union, the cobalt mass breaking right through the floor tiles.

  “We’ll fix that later,” Nine said.

  She made another one inside the entrance to the dorms. Another outcropping sprang up from the training center. She placed one on the Academy side of their makeshift barricade, jutting out of the central road that led into campus.

  Finally, Rabiya grew a chunk of Loralite on the beach, hidden among some rocks. At that point, she and Taylor were alone. Everyone at the Academy was on a strict buddy system, so Taylor had to stand idly by as Rabiya did her work. Nine and Nigel had gone off to organize the students into squads, while Simon was busy imbuing bracelets with knowledge of New Lorien. Those bracelets would be distributed around to students they could rely on to evacuate others if the need arose—Maiken, Nemo, Omar and, at Nigel’s insistence, Nicolas.

  Walking along the beach as she waited, Taylor thought about Isabela’s message to them. A crazed Harvester who happened to be a Garde, working on behalf of the Foundation, who could steal bodies. And he was headed to the Academy. Of course they could add that to their problems. Isabela didn’t answer her phone when they tried to call her back, so there was nothing more they could do about it.

  “I guess the best plan,” Nine had said, “is to not let any strangers touch you.”

  Taylor stubbed her toe on something hard in the sand. An empty bottle of champagne. She crouched down, brushing sand off the green glass. She and her friends must have left that bottle out here on New Year’s Eve after sneaking it out of the faculty party. She smiled softly. That was a good memory. A good night. Well, right up until Nine had come to tell Nigel about his father’s passing.

  “I’m done,” Rabiya said, coming up behind her. She glanced at the bottle in Taylor’s hand. “I see that in addition to organizing a defense of the Academy you are also picking up litter.”

  Taylor hadn’t realized how far away she’d roamed from Rabiya and the Loralite. “Sorry,” she said. “Got into my head a bit.”

  Rabiya shrugged nonchalantly and they started back along the shore. “You really like it here,” Rabiya said after a moment, when she caught Taylor gazing out at the water. “You don’t want to go.”

  “It’s funny, because I never wanted to come here,” Taylor replied. “But now I feel attached. It’s like the place where I really grew up.”

  Rabiya nodded and fell silent again. Taylor was surprised by her own candor. She guessed that she was feeling extra sentimental in what might be one of the day’s last quiet moments. What had Ella said about Rabiya? That Taylor could trust her—with today’s battle, at least. That meant there was something Taylor couldn’t trust her about.

  “Do you think he’s okay?” Rabiya asked. “Kopano, I mean. Aren’t you worried?”

  Ah. Or someone.

  Taylor didn’t feel any ill will or possessiveness. Maybe she was a bigger person than that, or maybe she just had too much else to worry about that Rabiya’s little crush on Kopano didn’t rate. As they reached the Loralite, Taylor smiled at the other girl in a way that she hoped was reassuring.

  “Kopano will be fine,” Taylor said. “Nothing can hurt that guy.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  KOPANO OKEKE

  THE OSIRIS—PFEIFFER BEACH, CALIFORNIA

  NO SOONER HAD VONTEZZA SCREAMED OUT HER warning than a shape burst into the engine room behind her, moving at a speed that wasn’t human. In the crimson light of the Mogadorian ship and with the addition of the flames leaping off
Vontezza’s back, Kopano at first mistook their attacker for some kind of devil—right out of the boring biblical comics his mother used to bring home for him instead of the good superhero stuff. That was the thought in Kopano’s brain when the demon punched Vontezza in the side of the head with enough force to snap her neck. The Mogadorian’s body collapsed and tumbled down the corrugated steps, landing in a burning heap at Kopano’s feet.

  In the back of his mind, Kopano knew that Vontezza regenerated. She would be fine. Most likely. Even so, his instincts were to lurch forward and try to help put out the fire on her back.

  He came up short, though, when he saw who stood on the landing above.

  John Smith. John Smith was the devil.

  “Always wanted to kill one of them things,” John said, his voice weird and twangy. “All that vermin scurrying around on our beautiful planet. Can’t be tolerated.”

  Kopano stared. He didn’t know what to say. These words didn’t make any sense coming from John. The Loric had likely killed tons of Mogadorians during the invasion. He’d also organized this peaceful surrender and never once called the Mogs anything like “vermin.” What the hell was going on?

  “I’m here to accept your surrender,” John continued. “You and then those other rebels over at that Academy. They said I’m supposed to show you mercy.” John looked at his hands, flexing his fingers. They glowed white-hot. “But mercy might be hard on account of how much power’s in this one.”

  “John, what—?” Kopano started to say but stopped himself. He wasn’t stupid. The way John spoke, the way he smiled, the way he’d so callously dispatched Vontezza. That wasn’t John. Kopano didn’t know how, but Earth Garde had found a way to take control of the Loric. This was worse than an Inhibitor, though. Someone else—someone clearly deranged—was in possession of John’s body.

  “It ain’t so bad where they’ll put you,” John said, starting down the steps into the engine room proper. “A little warm. Food isn’t great. But sometimes they let you loose to do God’s work.”

  Kopano glanced over his shoulder. Miki stood there, frozen, one hand still on the force field generator.

  “Miki!” Kopano yelled, snapping him to attention. “Get that back to the Academy! Warn them!”

  Miki opened his mouth as if to object, but he must have done the same mental math as Kopano. If they flew out of there together, John would be right behind them. He might even overtake them and get to the Academy first.

  Someone needed to stay behind to stall him.

  And that person was Kopano.

  “Now, now,” John said. He aimed his open hand at Miki, a blossom of flame spilling forth.

  Miki was wind before the fire touched him. The force field generator disappeared with him, a swirl of particles, Miki indistinguishable from the machine. Kopano saw how the flames curled and billowed at the sudden draft that rose up and out of the engine room.

  “Slippery little critter,” John said, and aimed another fireball at Kopano.

  Kopano lunged forward. He turned transparent, darting through the fire, and grabbed the staircase that John stood on. The steps lost their density and John, off-balance, fell through them. Kopano grabbed him as he fell, snagging the front of his shirt, and hardened the molecules of his fist. He punched John square in the face, breaking his nose and bouncing him off one of the room’s many control panels.

  “If you are in there, John Smith . . . ,” Kopano said, trying to keep his voice from shaking. “Fight! Fight against this thing that has control of you!”

  John stood up, laughing and snuffling blood back up his nose.

  “I got him in a real cozy place. A little spaceship he likes to imagine sometimes, watching some girl bleed out. Maybe he can hear you, but there ain’t nothing he can do,” John said. “I was put on this Earth to stop things like him. Things like you.”

  Kopano stood firm, ready to dodge aside at any moment. This one liked to talk. That was good. That could buy Miki precious seconds to get back and let the others know what they were up against.

  “What are you?” Kopano asked. “You must be . . . you must be some kind of Garde.”

  “I’m a blessing,” John replied, nasally, agitated. “These Legacies are corruption. An affront to the Almighty. I was made to root them out.”

  “You sound like my mom,” Kopano replied. “She prays for me all the time.”

  A huge smile spread on John’s face. “That must be why I found you first. Your mother’s prayers were answered!”

  John sprang towards him. He was fast and superstrong, but Kopano had noticed something about the way he wielded the fire. It was imprecise. Whoever was controlling John Smith wasn’t as skilled at using his Legacies. Maybe he didn’t even entirely know what John could do. A small advantage was better than nothing.

  Kopano let John pass right through him, his fist smashing into the armored core where the force field generator used to reside. Then, Kopano grabbed him from behind and turned them both transparent. He muscled John forward, into the armor, until his face and chest overlapped with that Mogadorian alloy. John hissed in pain. Maybe, Kopano thought, if he could hurt him enough, this possessor would flee John’s body.

  “Release him!” Kopano yelled. “Go back where you came from!”

  Metal shrieked as John let loose a powerful wave of telekinesis. The layers of the core peeled back like the petals of a flower, then flattened against the floor, away from the two of them. John shucked free of Kopano’s grip, spun and flung out his hands, hurling Kopano across the room with another burst of telekinesis. Kopano turned himself transparent so that he didn’t ram into any of the equipment.

  “There’s so much power in this body,” John said, laughing. “Gosh, it’s so easy. All I have to do is think of something and . . .”

  John held out his fist and, in the blink of an eye, it was encased in ice. Cracking and hissing as it grew, the ice enlarged into a pointed lance, which he plunged right for Kopano’s chest.

  Kopano let the ice pass right through him, stepped clear and smashed it with one punch from his hardened fist. John hardly seemed to notice. He’d already moved on to shooting silver beams out of his eyes, turning parts of the Mogadorian warship into stone.

  He was playing, Kopano realized. Screwing around.

  “So much power,” John said, looking down at his hands again. “This is what it feels like to be a god.”

  On Kopano’s left, a tank of coolant that had been damaged in their fight suddenly burst, spraying chilly mist into the humid confines of the engine room. Kopano leaped back to get out of the way.

  When he looked back up, John was gone.

  Maybe he’d lost interest. Maybe he’d accidentally triggered John’s teleportation Legacy and sent himself halfway across the planet. Maybe he was on his way to the Academy.

  From up above, Kopano heard voices and boots. The soldiers were breaching the warship. Maybe they were drawn to the sounds of battle or maybe John Smith led them here. Either way, he needed to go.

  Kopano crouched down over Vontezza’s still-smoldering body. By any definition, the girl was dead. But she could come back from that, couldn’t she? He couldn’t leave her behind. Kopano patted out some last flames on Vontezza’s back and started to gather her up.

  The metal floor creaked as something moved behind him. Kopano spun around just in time to see John reappear—invisibility, of course, he’d never even left the room. He held a broken section of pipe that he’d picked up somewhere, swinging this for Kopano’s chest.

  Once again, Kopano went transparent. John stood there, holding the pipe in the ghostly space of Kopano’s shoulder. Kopano wondered how long this fool would go on like this. John had many tricks capable of doing damage, but Kopano only needed one move to avoid them all.

  “I can do this all day,” Kopano said with a smile.

  “I can see the strings that connect you to the power,” John said almost dreamily, his gaze becoming unfocused. He waved at the air, poi
nting from Kopano’s heart to the floor. “It’s hideous. Blue light coming up from the ground, sent from the underworld. I wonder what happens if I . . .”

  John made a cutting motion.

  Kopano howled as his shoulder exploded in pain. He had become solid around the pipe that John held inside him. Bone and muscle were pulped as Kopano’s body reasserted its mass. It was agony; like getting shot from inside his body.

  His Legacies were gone. John had ripped them away.

  “Aha, there you are,” John said. He touched Kopano’s cheek with his free hand. “Human again. That feels nice, don’t it?”

  With his other hand, John jiggled the pipe that was now plunged into Kopano’s shoulder and sticking out his back.

  The pain was unbearable. Even so, Kopano grabbed for John’s neck with his working hand. Clawed at him. Ripped at him.

  The metal made a wet ripping sound when John used his superstrength to pull it out of Kopano. And that was it.

  Kopano’s eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed.

  Kopano’s eyes fluttered open once as John dragged him by the ankle out of the Mogadorian warship. His head bumped across the metal floor and he felt chilled all over. There was a hole in him—not just the one in his shoulder—some bigger part of him was missing. He tried to use his telekinesis to shove John away from him and couldn’t. He was still cut off.

  A flash of heat from Kopano’s shoulder made him moan. John glanced over his shoulder.

  “There, there, fella,” John said. “We’ll get ya patched up.”

  Kopano squeezed his fist tight. He clenched something there, cool and sharp against his skin. He needed to hold on to that. Even if he passed out again, he needed to . . . needed . . .

  Kopano came to once again, this time with the sun shining in his face. He felt the grit of sand on his cheeks. Steady hands held him down. They were doing something to his wounded shoulder. The pain was still there, but further away now, a distant ache, like it was someone else’s shoulder that had gotten torn apart. He felt drugged and sleepy; it was a struggle to stay awake, to focus.