by Kate O'Hearn
‘That was different,’ Paelen said.
‘How? Pegasus is as intelligent as you. But the moment he saw Tornado he snapped. They both tried to kill each other.’
‘I do not wish to kill my clone. Simply to see him.’
Joel shook his head. ‘Right now, Paelen, what you need is sugar. After that, we can argue about your clone.’
It was late into the long night as the three sat down in one of Fremont Street’s all-night diners. They settled in a booth beside the window and ordered pancakes and chocolate milkshakes. When their drinks arrived, Joel topped up one of the drinks with all the sugar on the table and half the bottle of pancake syrup.
‘Gross,’ Frankie said as he watched Joel. ‘Are you really going to drink that?’
Joel shook his head. ‘Not me.’ He shoved the glass over to Paelen. ‘He is. Paelen, drink it all.’
Paelen’s head was pounding mercilessly and he could hardly see straight. The last time he’d been shot, Agent O was standing several metres away and the bullets hadn’t done much damage. The tattooed man was right beside him when he pulled the trigger.
‘You OK?’ Joel asked, peering closer. ‘You look really pale.’
‘I have felt better,’ Paelen admitted as he took a long drink of the sugar-charged milkshake.
‘Well, just try to eat as much as you can. I’m sure it’ll help. Emily should be back any minute now and will heal you right up.’
When their food arrived, Paelen wasn’t the least bit hungry. But Frankie tore into his like he hadn’t eaten a decent meal in days. He grinned as he shoved a whole pancake into his mouth. He looked at Joel. ‘Do you have pancakes in your world?’
‘This is my world!’ Joel muttered angrily.
‘If you say so,’ Frankie finished doubtfully, forcing a second pancake into his full mouth.
Watching Frankie devour his meal was making Paelen feel worse. He picked at his food, unable to eat. But the look of concern on Joel’s face forced him to take a small bite. He gazed out the window at the crowds along the street. It wasn’t as interesting as it had been earlier.
The light show was starting on the overhead canopy again. The bright colours hurt Paelen’s eyes and forced him to look away. ‘I wish we were back in Olympus.’
‘Me too,’ Joel said. ‘And I really wish Steve and Diana had never brought those newspapers back with them. Then we’d never know about the clones.’
Paelen nodded but it caused his head to pound harder. ‘But then the CRU would have built an army of Nirads with no one to stop them.’
‘Paelen, in case you didn’t notice, we haven’t exactly done a lot to stop them so far,’ Joel said. ‘All we’ve managed to do is get ourselves into trouble and you shot in the head.’
They sat in silence eating their meal. Each swallow made Paelen feel worse. He pushed his plate away, unable to take another bite, and wondered how things could have gone so wrong. With so much at stake with the CRU, it was foolish to have gone out. They should have stayed at the black building to await Emily’s return with the Nirads. Instead his desire to see Las Vegas had turned into a disaster.
As the minutes ticked by, a strange feeling came over Paelen. He knew something was seriously wrong. He was now certain he was in big trouble.
Suddenly there was a loud screech and pounding on the window beside them. Both Joel and Frankie turned and stared into the face of a wild teen. His eyes were wide and enraged. His hair was dirty and matted and he was dressed in rags. His mouth was open and seemed to be snarling at Paelen.
‘Hey, Paelen,’ Frankie observed, ‘he looks just like you—’
‘It’s the clone!’ Joel cried. But as he turned to his friend, he saw the same expression on Paelen’s face. His eyes matched the clone’s in wildness and his face contorted in fury as he moved to confront his clone.
‘Paelen, no. Stop!’
Paelen had never reacted this way in his life. It was like an irresistible command. Every instinct in his body cried out in rage, demanding he destroy the unnatural ‘thing’.
His confused thoughts came together with one solid realization. The sickening weakness he felt was not caused by the gunshot wound, but from the proximity of the clone. The closer it was to him, the worse he felt and the stronger his desire was to kill it.
Paelen rose to his feet. He could barely hear Joel telling him to stop. He had to destroy the clone.
He smashed through the diner door and turned on the clone. It screeched and roared and charged at him with murderous fury in its eyes.
The reaction of the Olympian meeting the clone was explosive. The clone lifted Paelen in the air and threw him through the plate-glass window of the diner, right where he’d just been sitting.
Paelen landed on the table but was back on his feet in an instant. He charged through the broken window and out on to the street. He lunged forward and attacked the clone with all his strength. He lifted him high in the air and threw him at the Ferrari up on the display platform opposite.
The side of the expensive car caved from the impact of the clone and was knocked off its platform. All around them, people panicked and ran to get out of the way of the two super-strong beings.
Paelen ran forward and caught hold of the clone. Wrapping his arms around him, they started to wrestle.
‘Paelen, stop!’ Joel cried as he tried to wrench the two apart.
‘Joel, get back!’ Paelen warned. But it was too late. The clone struck out at Joel with a brutal blow that cast him several metres in the air. Joel landed on the roof of a seller’s push-cart and slipped down to the ground badly winded.
‘Joel!’ Paelen cried as his fury revved up a notch. ‘You hurt Joel!’
The very last thing Paelen saw before losing all control was Frankie running over to Joel. But then he lost himself in uncontrolled rage. Nothing compared to the burning fire of fury he felt at the moment. He released every ounce of power he had at the clone. He tore up a street light from the pavement and used the pole like a bat, smashing the clone into a tall, brightly lit casino sign. Light bulbs burst and sparked as debris poured down into the street.
But Paelen had met his match. The clone rose up and charged after him again.
It caught hold of his arm and started spinning him madly around; faster and faster until it roared in rage and released him into the air. Paelen screamed and cartwheeled high above the crowd. He smashed into the lighted canopy almost thirty metres above the street. The lights exploded and framework buckled as electrical sparks and fire filled the air. Thousands of tiny glass shards and debris rained down on the panicking crowd below. On the ground, the computer console controlling the light show burst into flame from the overwhelming power surge. The electrical fire spread quickly as a sudden inferno engulfed part of Fremont Street. Within minutes, the front of a nearby casino had caught fire and burned brightly.
Heedless of the raging fire, Paelen untangled himself from the canopy and commanded his sandals to fly at the clone. He lunged down and picked it up in the air. Using all his remaining strength Paelen hurled the clone at the biggest, heaviest thing he could find – the lighted front wall of a casino.
The casino’s sign exploded with the impact and the wall crumbled. As the clone fell to the ground, part of the lighted sign collapsed and fell on top of it.
Panting, hurt and exhausted, Paelen could barely stand upright. But as he staggered over to Joel, he saw little red-haired Frankie trying to half drag and half carry the stunned Joel away from the spreading fire.
The sound of sirens filled the air and made Paelen’s head pound worse. Bright flashing lights blinded him as police cars screeched to a halt before him.
‘Police! Stop where you are!’ a loudspeaker announced.
Blood was seeping into Paelen’s eyes from his wounds. He was dizzy and sick. After a few more staggered steps, he saw a police officer kneeling on the ground and raising a weapon. It didn’t look like a normal gun. It was bright yellow.
�
�Stop!’ the officer warned. ‘I have a taser and will use it.’
‘Paelen, stop!’ Joel called. ‘Please stop!’
There was no real sound as the weapon was fired. But Paelen felt it immediately. Electrical current tore through him. He lost control of his muscles and collapsed to the ground convulsing. The pain was intense and he couldn’t move. Finally darkness descended and he passed out.
22
Emily was worried about what they would find on the other end of the Solar Stream. Had Joel, Paelen and Chrysaor made it to the black building? Were they waiting for them?
As they emerged from the Steam into the sky above the desert, Emily was disappointed to see they had arrived in daylight. There was no way they could fly into Las Vegas without being seen.
She was seated on Alexis with Prince Tobin behind her. Ahead of them, Pegasus was straining to fly with the heavy Nirad on his back. Despite his best efforts, Pegasus was losing height in the sky.
Emily leaned forward on Alexis. ‘Can you fly us closer to Pegasus? I have an idea. I think we should land.’
Alexis looked back at her. ‘If we land now, it is doubtful Pegasus will be able to lift Tirk again. You can see he is struggling.’
‘I know,’ Emily said. ‘Look down. We aren’t that far from Area 51. We don’t want to be seen by them in daylight.’
‘Agreed,’ Alexis said. She flapped her wings harder and soon gained on Pegasus and Tirk. She called to the stallion and told him to find a place to land. Soon they were gliding lower to the ground until Pegasus found a spot in a small canyon. It wasn’t far from a strange and beautiful lake in the middle of the desert. They touched down on lush green grass instead of the hard desert floor.
Emily and Tobin helped Tirk get down from Pegasus. When the huge orange Nirad stepped away from the stallion, Emily saw the foaming sweat on Pegasus’s back and neck. She had never seen him do that before.
‘Are you OK, Pegs?’ she asked worriedly, stroking his quivering neck. Pegasus’s head was down and his wings were drooping.
‘He is exhausted,’ Alexis said. ‘Tirk is a particularly large and heavy Nirad. Emily, get Pegasus some ambrosia. He needs to eat and rest.’
They found shelter in a small cluster of trees. Tirk didn’t look much better than Pegasus. He sat down heavily and leaned against a tree. If Emily didn’t know better she could have sworn the Nirad was about to be sick.
Using the sack they carried their food in, Emily started to brush Pegasus down. ‘Just relax, Pegs. We can’t leave here till dark.’ Finally the stallion settled under the shade of a tree. He soon dozed off.
The group lounged under the trees as the sun blazed high above their heads. Despite the shade, the temperature continued to climb. Emily had never felt it so blisteringly hot in her life. New York City could get warm in the summer, but it was nothing like the Nevada desert.
Even Alexis, who never showed any kind of discomfort, appeared to be feeling the heat. She couldn’t settle and was constantly flapping her wings to create a breeze. Prince Tobin and Tirk were not much better as they tried to get comfortable while the temperature soared.
With nothing more to do but wait for darkness, Emily settled down beside Pegasus. She was too hot and worried to sleep. They were facing the fight of their lives at Area 51. As the heat rose she wondered what Joel, Paelen and Chrysaor were up to in Las Vegas. Whatever they were doing at the moment, it had to be better than this.
23
Paelen moaned. His head pounded mercilessly and he ached all over. He was lying on a hard surface and, when he tried to move, discovered that his hands were chained to his sides.
‘Paelen,’ a voice softly called. ‘Wake up.’
He opened his eyes and looked up into the concerned face of Joel. They were in a small, brightly lit room. Like him, Joel had his hands chained to his waist. There was one door to the room with a thick glass window. The walls on either side of the door were also made of thick, hardened glass. Across the room he saw an empty bench. There was a short wall beside it and behind that was a toilet.
Paelen struggled to sit up. He still felt like he was about to be sick. ‘Where are we?’
Shouts came from the hall outside and they watched several large policemen struggling to contain a chained prisoner. One police officer looked in at them as they led their prisoner down the hall to another holding cell.
‘We’ve been arrested,’ Joel quickly explained. ‘We’re in jail. When I wouldn’t tell them our names or cooperate, they put us in here. They’ve had someone look at your head and put fresh bandages on it, but I don’t think they realize you’ve been shot. I couldn’t stop them from taking our fingerprints, though. Since I’ve got a police record it won’t be long before they know who I am.’
Most of what Joel said made no sense to Paelen. But the fear in his friend’s face was clear enough. They were in trouble. ‘Where is Frankie?’
Joel sighed. ‘Safe, I hope. I told him to run back to the black building to tell Emily what happened. When the police used the taser on you I kind of lost it and attacked them. Hopefully he got away.’
‘You attacked the police?’
Joel nodded. ‘You were hurt but they used the taser anyway. I tried to stop them.’
‘You could have been wounded!’ Paelen said.
Joel shrugged. ‘No one shoots my friends and gets away with it. Not that I helped. We still got arrested.’
They sat together and looked around the tiny cell. Paelen looked down at his bare feet. ‘Where are my sandals?’
‘They took them. They took my shoes too.’ Joel showed his own bare feet. He leaned closer. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘Dreadful.’ Paelen staggered over to the glass window in the door and peered down the hall. ‘The Runt is here too. He is close. When he is near, I feel ill.’ He looked back at Joel. ‘Right now, I feel very ill.’
Joel shook his head, ‘You can’t start fighting again, Paelen. Not here. We’re in enough trouble already.’
Paelen crossed back to Joel and sat down tiredly on the hard wooden bench. ‘Do not worry. I have neither the strength nor energy to fight again. I also cannot remember much. What happened?’
‘What happened?’ Joel repeated. ‘Are you serious? Your clone found us at the diner and you went ballistic! The two of you pretty much destroyed Fremont Street.’
It all came rushing back to him in strange flashing images. ‘Now I understand how Pegasus felt when he saw Tornado. Joel, I could not control myself. It was like I had no will of my own. When I saw the clone I had to destroy it.’
‘That is just like Pegasus,’ Joel agreed. ‘I wonder if the same applies to all Olympians when they meet their clones. Would Diana want to kill her clones?’
Paelen nodded. ‘You know me. I do not like to fight if it can be avoided. But I could not contain myself. Diana loves a good fight. She would be unstoppable if she came here and encountered her clones.’
‘We can’t let that happen,’ Joel said.
A key was inserted in the lock and their cell door opened.
‘Sleeping beauty wakes! Just stay seated where you are,’ a large, burly officer said, entering the cell. He concentrated on Joel. ‘You may not have wanted to talk, but your fingerprints said plenty, Joel DeSilva. You’re a long way from home, aren’t you, boy?’
Joel said nothing.
‘We know you’re a runaway from foster care in New York City. Normally we’d be sending you to the Juvenile Centre, but after you assaulted a police officer, you’re staying right here with us.’
A second officer drew near and studied Joel’s exposed silver arm with great curiosity. ‘What is that? I’ve seen artificial limbs before – heck, my brother came back from Iraq with one. But I’ve never seen anything like that. Where’d you get it?’
Joel remained silent as the police officer stepped even closer. ‘I can’t see any joints at the wrist or fingers, but you can move it. How does it work?’ He reached out to touch the silve
r arm.
‘Don’t!’ Joel warned as he slid down the bench away from the officer.
‘So he does speak,’ the first officer said. ‘What happened at Fremont?’
Joel glared at the officer but said nothing further.
‘Fine,’ he said. The officer concentrated on Paelen. ‘Just what kind of drugs are you on, kid? From what I’ve heard, you and your twin brother all but destroyed Fremont Street. There are crazy stories going on about how you tossed each other around like rag dolls and destroyed a hundred-thousand-dollar sports car.’
‘That Runt is not my brother,’ Paelen said indignantly. ‘And I will thank you to return my sandals.’
The police officer raised his eyebrows. ‘You will thank me, eh? How about I thank you to answer our questions? What happened at Fremont Street? How did you do all that damage?’
This was too familiar to Paelen. Back on Governors Island, Agents J and O had asked a lot of questions that he did not want to answer. Paelen avoided the question. ‘Why do you not ask the Runt?’
The police officer laughed, but there was no humour in it. ‘I’ve had more than my share of dealings with that freaky little punk. We’ll keep him chained up and leave him alone till the folks from the psych ward at the hospital come to collect him. But you, I am interested in. Who are you?’
Paelen straightened up as best as his injured body would allow. ‘I am Paelen the Magnificent,’ he said proudly. ‘You would do well to release Joel and me before I lose my temper.’
‘Oh really,’ the officer said, smiling. ‘Well, how about we give you more time to cool off and cooperate.’
A serious-looking police officer arrived and called the others outside. They closed and locked the door behind them.
Paelen strained to listen. ‘We are in deep trouble. I heard that man say there is a special warrant out for us. We are considered dangerous and they should not approach us.’
Out in the hall, the officers looked back at them, but moved quickly away from the cell.