Gruefield 18 (Tarnished Sterling Omnibus)

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Gruefield 18 (Tarnished Sterling Omnibus) Page 32

by Robert McCarroll


  "Are we allowed to ask what happened to his eye?"

  "Not until the BHA rep shows up and says its okay."

  "What can we do?"

  "Sit here and wait for the BHA rep."

  "Couldn't we call in one of the heroes instead?" she asked.

  "Not everyone knows everyone," he said. "Could be compromising his secret identity."

  "What was he even doing up there out of costume?"

  "Beats me." The BHA rep wasn't the first to show up. It was Dad, in costume. I'd wondered why I hadn't run into him sooner.

  "Might I speak with him in private?" Dad asked the agents.

  "You know this kid?"

  "I do."

  "Go ahead." The agents left the area and Dad sat down next to me. I couldn't see his expression through his mask. No words came; he just pulled me into a hug, placing the uninjured side of my face against his shoulder. I got a good view of the wall. I didn't know if he couldn't come up with the words to say, or if he didn't want a revealing outburst to be heard through the door. After a few moments, I pushed back and sat upright.

  "What happened?" Dad asked. There was a sadness in his voice. I relayed the story of the Morlock Society, my abortive escape from my cell, my run-in with Uth-sk, and my actual escape from his lab. I tried to be as clinical about it as I could, but my pained expression when discussing the surgeon was something I couldn't hide. "So, this Morlock Society is who we have to thank for putting thousands of civilians in harm's way."

  "They were afraid," I said, surprising myself that I'd chosen to defend them. "They didn't trust the government. Given past experience, I'm not sure their fears were unfounded."

  "Thanks to them, we nearly didn't achieve our objectives. The Ygnaza got off a shot."

  "Where?"

  "Northern Canada. We haven't been able to confirm any casualties. It was a fairly remote location. They were targeting major population centers, and we barely threw off their aim in time."

  "I ran into Agent Six unmasked."

  "You may have been the last human to see him alive," Dad said. "To prevent the Ygnaza from retaking mass driver three, he overloaded part of the system. The explosion killed him, but it severed the entire weapon assembly from the ship."

  "Icerazor isn't going to take the news well," I said.

  "They didn't get along, but they were still family." Dad paused. "About your eye," he said. "We're going to get you a replacement. I know it won't be the same, but you'll be able to see. There are even models now that look like the real thing."

  "Thanks," I said. "I just wish I'd managed to get away before..." I trailed off, fighting to keep my composure. "They jammed a device into my brain. It's keeping me awake. Not even surgical anesthetic will let me sleep."

  "At least you made it out alive," Dad said.

  "This is going to screw up my academic year."

  "We'll deal with that too. Right now, just focus on getting back to New Port Arthur and finding a piece of normalcy."

  "The hideout was compromised, they probably moved us again."

  Dad sighed. "You guys have to stop doing that, we only have so much real estate."

  "Sorry."

  "Anyway, I'm going to set up a call to let everyone know you're all right."

  "Sounds good."

  "You wait here for the BHA rep. Just tell them the truth, and there shouldn't be any repercussions from the government."

  "All right," I caught myself before I called him Dad. He wouldn't have appreciated it while in costume. He headed off.

  Part 28

  I hadn't expected to be met by a press conference when I got off the plane. I stared bleary-eyed and dumbfounded at the mass of cameras as I tried to figure out what was going on. Apparently, brazenly abducting someone from in front of one of the most expensive restaurants in town caught the media's attention. It was something other than the ticking clock until Zsh-ya's deadline. How they found out I'd been picked up from the ship was beyond me. I couldn't count the number of green blobs from camera flashes that floated in my vision, but someone hurried me along into a car.

  The car turned out to be an SUV containing Jack, Fae, and a smaller man whose family resemblance to Jack led me to guess he was the younger brother. He was driving and mumbled something about getting out of a circus, before edging past the crowd, who didn't particularly want to part. "Picking up someone at the airport is usually not a stressful favor, Jack," he said.

  "You saw my car," Jack said.

  "How do you know this kid anyway?"

  "I'm friends with his dad."

  "Right. Travis was it? I'm Brett Fowler, I'm told you met my daughter."

  "Yes, sir. She was staying with Jack."

  "Well, just keep away from her in the future." Fae scowled openly, but Brett ignored her. "You know, Jack, you could have at least mentioned that the kid we were picking up was the one nabbed in front of Poole's."

  "Travis," Jack said, "About your eye--"

  "Hold it," Brett interrupted. "After your stint in rehab, Mother tightened your purse strings, remember. Don't make promises you can't afford."

  "It's okay, Jack," I said. "Dad might not get paid much, but the family health insurance plan is top-notch." Jack's expression was blank for a while. He so rarely got injured that he didn't think about the details of our coverage. It cost a fortune for good reason. Heroes as a population were a high risk pool, especially for traumatic injury. We pulled into the garage of Jack's building. Jack and I got out, but Brett snagged Fae's arm before she could follow. I didn't hear what he said, but she made a sour face at the remark. He drove off before we'd even stepped away from the car. "How pleasant," I said. Jack missed the sarcasm.

  As we walked towards the elevators, a van turned its headlights on. I tensed up, reminded of my last run-in with a van. After a moment, I realized it was Icerazor's rebuilt wreck. I breathed easier as I headed over to it. Icerazor sat in the driver's seat, a ball cap pulled low on his head and sunglasses over his eyes. I realized that this was the first time I'd seen him in something other than his costume. "Dressing a little casual today?" I asked.

  "Poor slobs attract less attention, even in Leyden Heights," he said. He looked up and recoiled slightly. "From the other side, it didn't look that bad. I heard they messed you up."

  "Quite diplomatically put," I said, climbing into the back of the van. "Where'd they move us to?"

  "A couple of trailers inside an old hanger on the grounds of Gruefield Eighteen. Hanger's a piece of crap that they'll knock down once we're out of it." He started the engine and headed off. "Why in back?"

  "I look a little distinctive right now."

  "Fair enough." We drove in silence as I tried to figure out when I should tell him about his dad. Not while he was driving, that much was certain. We paused briefly at a chain-link gate while the motors pulled it aside. Then we rambled onto bumpy, broken concrete rife with grass poking through the ancient cracks. The gate closed behind us as we headed up a neglected drive and into the front of a decrepit-looking building whose entire front face was missing. Three trailers were laid out in a triangle on the relatively-intact concrete floor of the hanger. Icerazor pulled up next to one, and we climbed out. I put a hand on his shoulder.

  "There's something I have to tell you." He turned, his raised eyebrow almost hidden within his "disguise." "It's about Agent Six."

  "And?"

  "He's dead," I said. "The Ygnaza were threatening to retake one of the mass drivers and fire on Earth. He overloaded part of the system to prevent them from using it. Only, he didn't make it out of the blast area in time." I didn't know if he'd even been able to try, but I never took Agent Six as the kind of guy who'd have stuck around if he had an escape route from an explosion. "I'm sorry," I said.

  The rest of the
group had noticed our arrival by now and was starting to emerge from the trailers. Icerazor all but threw himself into Jennifer's arms.

  "My dad's dead," he said, trying his best not to cry on her shoulder. She led him inside. Whatever happiness my safe return might have brought anyone evaporated instantly. Ixa encouraged everyone to head into a different trailer to give them some time alone. I found myself in a combination office/kitchen and sat down by the microwave.

  "Dude, why don't you ever bring good news?" Pam asked.

  "Same reason I can't manage to save anyone," I said.

  "You saved me," Xiv said. I tousled his hair.

  "And you returned the favor immediately afterwards."

  "You look tired," Ixa said. "You should get some sleep."

  "I can't sleep," I said.

  "I know you think there's work to be done, but--"

  "No, Ixa, I literally can't sleep." I pointed to the bandage about my head. "An alien surgeon drilled a hole in my head and took away my ability to sleep just before he took away my eye. I..." I paused. "I'm sorry, Ixa, I shouldn't have snapped at you. There... there's no excuse."

  "Under the circumstances, I can forgive you," she said. "How long have you been awake?"

  "Days. I don't know exactly." I sighed. "Surgical anesthetic didn't even knock me out."

  "Maybe we can talk about something less Earth-shattering and take your mind off it," Pam said. She walked over to the end of the office where a cork board hung. On it were publicity stills for my seven teammates. Next to their names were tacked strips of paper with names of gear and price tags. "We were unpacking the hardware you ordered for the team, matching it up with everyone's wish list, and we can't seem to figure out how you distributed funds." I went over to the board and took a closer look. Taking out a piece of paper from a nearby desk, I wrote on it "Government Required It" and tacked it to the board by the side. I moved over some of the strips of paper to that spot.

  "These items we had to get anyway to meet certain mandates, so I didn't count them against member requests. Also, Xiv didn't ask for much. If you take that into account, you'll find that the numbers add up to a more even value." Nora did some longhand math as I sat back down again.

  "Give or take," she said. "For most of us."

  "I told you, Xiv didn't ask for much." Speaking of the dragon boy, I noticed he was chewing on something that stuck out of his mouth. Turning to look, I saw that it was a rawhide bone. "What are you doing?"

  "Cleanin' ma teef," he said, the chew-toy still clenched in his mouth.

  "It works better for him than a toothbrush," Ixa said.

  "There's another member that didn't get the same funding," Pam said, pinning my picture to the board. "You."

  "Look, I'll give you guys all the spreadsheets and write-ups for our requisitions," I said. "If you think I indulged myself, I'll answer any questions you have."

  "I don't think that's what she meant," Ixa said.

  "We went through and unpacked all the hardware," Nora said, "Matching it up to people's wish lists, and there wasn't one box containing something we thought was meant for the 'Fearless Leader.'"

  "Those are team funds," I said.

  "Did you quit the team?" Ixa asked.

  "No," I said, "But I'm also it's fiscal shepherd."

  "You're also supposed to make sure we're as effective as possible," Ixa said. "Let's take an example." She put her hand on Xiv's head. "Lets suppose that instead of a fire- and frost-breathing dragon boy with super-hearing and flight, Xiv were an ordinary boy we'd taken on as a sidekick."

  Xiv pulled the bone out of his mouth. "I'm not ordinary?"

  "Of course not, you're one-of-a-kind, that makes you extraordinary," Ixa said. "Now back to the example, suppose this ordinary sidekick, when gearing up, didn't get anything past the utmost basics. Teamed up with powered individuals, would you be able to expect him to pull his own weight."

  "No," I sighed, already seeing where she was going.

  "So how are you any different?"

  "It doesn't feel right to expend team funds on myself."

  "Fine," Nora said, "Give us your wish list, and we'll decide what you get."

  "I don't see how that's any different."

  "And I don't see how hamstringing yourself is going to help the team," Ixa said.

  I let out a long sigh. I had to listen to that annoying analytical part of me parrot Ixa's point to the rest of my brain. Only the miniature Uth-sk seemed to listen, and I didn't like him either. But I went back to every time I found myself staring at an intersection for want of a line launcher, or whenever I risked detection poking my head through a doorway. I could be more effective with a few simple improvements to my loadout. I just didn't feel like I'd earned them. It seemed like a waste to expend so many resources to make the hero with the losingest record slightly less crap, when there were gains to be had elsewhere.

  My first night of sleeplessness back on Earth came with a spark of inspiration. Omicron had dumped Nikki right on our doorstep, so she must have gotten somewhere in her pursuit of him and his friends. While everyone else was blessed by the touch of Morpheus, I headed out. I had a few questions for our long-haired vigilante.

  The state didn't require a driver's license to operate a moped, which most people didn't even realize because of the ubiquity of economy cars. No one had commented on the inclusion of a handful in the Gruefield Eighteen proposal. But with so few members having actual licenses, it made sense for basic transit. It was probably a stupid idea to drive a vehicle I'd never operated before with one eye and one hand, but I needed to get away from everything and there were no rooftops handy around the old missile base. I'd been concerned that my suit might not fit over the cast on my hand, but then I remembered you climbed into it through the neck hole. Sure, it didn't hide the fact I was wearing a cast, but the windbreaker I put on over the suit did that.

  Night vision might play havoc with your depth perception, but so did having one eye. I still turned on the little puttering vehicles headlight so that cars wouldn't hit me. With a casual glance at night, my goggles would look like just another piece of safety gear. What I was doing was probably illegal as Hell, but I didn't rightly care. The bridge was empty when I crossed the river, and I stuck to the side streets where the speed limits were within the capacity of the less-than-powerful two-wheeler. Eventually, I found myself in the parking lot for Vanguard Hospital, and went inside.

  Being Community Fund property and the first stop for the care of powered individuals in New Port Arthur, the nurse at the desk didn't even blink at the sight of me. "Can I help you?" she asked.

  "What room is Nikki Greeler in?"

  "Visiting hours are--"

  A subtle shift in body language and a slight lowering of the pitch of my voice conveyed more than any actual words.

  "What room?" I wasn't going to do anything, but the mistaken impression of an implied action shifted her attitude. If it came down to it, the Fund would back the nurse against me, but little cues suggested that I thought otherwise. The nurse gave me a room number. "Thank you," I said, heading off. I could hear her place a call to her supervisor as I left. Though hospitals were a maze, I eventually found my way to the secluded corner of the building I was looking for.

  Nikki looked at me with a sneer as I entered the room. It would have been awkward if she'd turned out to be unconscious. "What do you want?" she asked.

  "I'm sure a lot of people have been in here asking you about Doctor Omicron," I said.

  "Omicron's moved by now," Nikki said.

  "I'm not here to ask about him."

  "What then?"

  "The Hierophant. Before we had our first scuffle, Jasmine was on a conference call with him and Omicron. With so much attention on the not-so-good Doctor, I figured someone should be follow
ing up on him."

  Nikki gave a pained laugh. "It took one of you this long to figure that out? If you haven't got something to punch, you 'heroes' are useless."

  "I would appreciate it if you shared what you knew about him."

  "Sure, and I get what, exactly."

  "I'm not sure what I can offer you."

  "How about you deliver a swift kick to the balls from me."

  "I can't promise anything, but I'll see if the opportunity comes up."

 

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