Gruefield 18 (Tarnished Sterling Omnibus)

by Robert McCarroll

  The first clue was his desktop image. It was a photograph of a pale faced, slightly freckled girl whose short hair was dyed a raven black. She was sitting at a computer with oversized headphones around her neck, smiling at the camera. It didn't look like something you'd take from the internet and was somewhat unremarkable. That told me it had some sort of sentimental value to him. A girlfriend maybe? I couldn't be sure. I looked around for saved e-mails or chat logs. Not turning up much of anything, I checked his web bookmarks.

  I should have started there. The Morlock Society had organized online, and Dekker's bookmarks included what looked like the bulk of the sites they used. I hadn't plugged the laptop into the network, having tracked my own system after it had been stolen because someone else did. I simply recorded the sites and made note that I had to check them out for Morlock activity. The webmail links near the top of the list told me why there were no saved messages on the system. Cloud computing, a sure-fire way to lock yourself out of your own documents should your network connection go down. That might be a bit cruel when it came to e-mail, but fairly accurate for everything else. E-mail was nigh useless without a network regardless.

  What should have been a bonanza of information was kind of a dud. Unless I wanted to put the laptop online, it wasn't going to give up much in the way of secrets. The bookmarks were nice but far less than I'd been anticipating. While I knew a thing or two about computers, pitting myself against an actual decker wasn't a good idea. So I was going to keep the laptop isolated until I had no better options.

  My phone rang. It's the sort of thing you don't give second thought to, but when you're far enough underground to survive a near miss from an atomic bomb, it wasn't typical. We'd actually installed a cellular repeater inside the residential dome so we could maintain our cover identities without having to keep explaining long spans without a signal. Caller ID said it was Jack.

  "Hello?"

  "I need someone to talk to," Jack said, "And you're the only one I knew would be up."

  "Where are you?"

  "West tower, Shining Future Arch." While somewhat ominous sounding for him to call from that bridge, Jack could fly and was nigh invulnerable, so jumping wouldn't do anything to him. Besides, he just sounded a bit down, not full on suicidal.

  "Why don't you fly on over to the base and I'll meet you at the entrance."

  "Okay," Jack said. "I'll be there shortly."

  I'd almost offered to come to him, but the logistics would have been rather messy. I shut down the laptop and headed for the entrance to the base. Jack was already waiting outside when I got there. He stepped down from a hover and followed me back inside.

  "So what's this about?" I asked as I closed the blast door to the inner bunker.

  "I hate elevators," Jack said. "If I don't remember to let myself fall, I hit the ceiling."

  "You just changed the subject. Something's bothering you."

  "It's Irvin Keyes," Jack said. The kid he put in a coma.

  "We've been over this. It was an accident."

  "I know, people keep telling me that. But it was still my fist, and he almost died." He stuttered the last word. "I mean, he might still die."

  "I saw the footage of the fight, there was no way to tell he was in there."

  "I just don't like being helpless," Jack said. "There's nothing I can do to help save him. No way to put myself in harms way instead. Nothing except wait and pray." Mentioning that Keyes had been rampaging through several blocks worth of parked cars probably wouldn't have helped any, so I threw that fact to the back of my mind and looked for something to say.

  "What were you doing at the Arch?" I asked.

  "I caught someone who was trying to jump. They fell about halfway, and I'm pretty sure they changed their mind once they were in free fall."

  "And that inspired you to seek out someone to talk to?" I asked as we headed towards the mess hall. And other than the fact that I can't sleep, why call me? That was another question I squelched before it escaped my lips.

  "No. I listened to his story about why he'd come there, and it got me philosophizing."

  "I thought you didn't do that."

  "Not normally. But I realized I needed someone to talk to."

  "So other than not being able to take action, is there something else gnawing at you?" We sat down at the table.

  "I don't think I've been clear. There's always something I can do. This, this isn't normal. I can't handle just sitting around to see if he wakes up. I need to do something."

  "I know you're used to being proactive, but you've already done what you can when you got him to the hospital."

  "It doesn't feel like enough, especially..." Jack trailed off.

  "Especially what?"

  "I shouldn't be sharing this," Jack said. "When I brought him in, he was all bruised up. I thought it was from being banged around inside the construct."

  "But?"

  "But the doctors said most of the bruises were old. And his x-rays showed a lot of old fractures. He was also badly malnourished. Travis, I didn't just put a kid in a coma, I put an abused kid in a coma. He didn't even hurt anybody in his rampage, just broke a few cars."

  "Jack, you're not the one who abused him, and the last thing you meant to do was put him in the hospital. You can't be beating yourself up over this."

  "Who else is there to beat up? That's what I do, sometimes that's all I do."

  I stifled an exasperated sigh. I wasn't qualified to be a shrink for heroes. He was supposed to be the one giving me advice, not the other way around.

  "Look," I said, "Sometimes, all you can do is persevere."

  "That isn't a very heartening message."

  "It's all I've got," I said.

  "There's also the question of what to do when Irvin wakes up." I guess it was a good sign Jack didn't say 'if'.

  "What do you mean?"

  "He's an abused kid with enough powers to almost fight me to a standstill untrained. Regular foster care can't handle him, and there's a chance we can help him grow into one of the good guys."

  "You know you can't take him in."

  "He's already been failed by the system. If anyone spotted the abuse, no one reported it. If that's all he knows of the world... He's going to be very bitter and very destructive. Someone should have intervened already, but now is better than never."

  "Who do we even know who can look after someone with those sorts of issues?" I asked. "Let alone someone with those sorts of powers?"

  "If we let him become a ward of the state, someone is going to get it in their head to weaponize him, and that won't be good for the world."

  "I'm not the person to talk to about this," I said. Try someone a bit older than almost seventeen. God, do people actually forget how old I really am? Or have I been acting like an adult for so long that they forget that legally, I'm not.

  "Maybe I'll talk to your dad in the morning."

  As I was the only one up, I started breakfast for everyone who'd spent the night at the base. There was double eggs, double sausage, double toast for Nora. She burned through calories pretty darn fast even when not using her powers. Ben had English muffins instead of toast. There was bacon for Pam, four rashers. Hash instead of eggs for Stephanie. She didn't like eggs. Ham only for Xiv. Egg whites, no meat and jam on the toast for Jennifer. Not that she was a vegetarian, she just didn't have meat before lunch. The carton of egg whites was empty, so I separated a pair and threw the yolks into a batch of scrambled for Jack. He hadn't left after our talk.

  "If the hero business doesn't work out, you have a future as a short order cook," Pam said. She was slightly shorter than me, and kept her hair dyed a bright blue, though she'd given up on shaving the sides of her head. She wore a t-shirt and pajama bottoms, but they were still complementary to her f
igure. I know I still missed the leather pants she'd had when I first met her, but it wouldn't do to let that get out. After all, Pam could throw me through the wall.

  "How about getting plates together, and rounding up some silverware?" I asked. Nora peered over my shoulder and counted the clusters of food on the cooktop.

  "Forget someone?"

  "No," I said, pointing to the sets of food and rattling off names.

  "It's official, you're a dumbass," Nora said.

  "What are you talking about?"

  "You forgot yourself." She hurried off in a rush of air, scooping silverware out of the drawer and delivering it to the table.

  "I'll figure something out," I muttered, trying to avoid turning red. I dished out the food as it became ready. My timing was pretty darn good as I was able to keep up a steady pace and not have anything come out over or under cooked. Pam contributed by ferrying the plates to the table. Xiv opened the fridge and began rooting through the contents.

  Xiv was a genetic experiment I'd rescued and we'd taken in. Among the team, he was the least able to blend in to regular society. His skin was the same bright white as the walls, or fresh snow. It had a sheen to it that made him look wet, even though he was dry. He wore black pants customized to accommodate a tail that reached the floor. His thumbs and first three fingers were relatively normal save for vestigial claws. His fourth finger on each hand, instead of being the shortest, was as long as the rest of the arm put together. A thin membrane stretched between that finger, the underside of the arm and his sides down to the bottom of the ribcage. It formed a simple wing.

  Xiv had no nose, his nostrils sitting in the front of his face and mostly covered by flaps of skin. His mouth sat low, almost edging out his chin. When he talked or smiled, his oversized canines protruded like fangs. All of his teeth were conical, and his tongue was blue. His eyes were huge, taking up almost a third of his face. This was offset by being almost the same hue as his skin, with tiny pupils swimming in the sea of white. Though he could close them, he usually blinked with a light blue third eyelid instead. Two ivory horns ran back along the top of his head and protruded behind him. Between them grew a long mane of white hair. When I'd met him, Xiv was only as tall as my chin. In the past year, he'd caught up with me. He still had a lanky build.

  He took the carton of milk out and guzzled the whole thing. "Really, Xiv?" I asked. He looked my way.

  "What?" His voice was no longer that of a child, sounding more adolescent these days.

  "You aren't going to save any for the table?" He looked sheepishly at the carton and frowned. "Forget it, just add milk to the grocery list." He closed the fridge and scribbled the word on the list pinned to the door. His penmanship was getting better, but still had that childish scrawl. He was less than two years old chronologically.

  "Whoah, Xiv, you got tall," Jack said, putting his hand on Xiv's head. Xiv smiled that creepy fanged smile of his. He couldn't really help it. "Soon I'll have to look up to see you."

  "Or you could fly," Xiv said.

  At some point Ben had shown up and taken his seat at the table. He had an uncanny ability to blend into the back of a crowd. It wasn't an actual power, just a talent of his. Nora sat next to him, having changed into her work clothes. Like most tasks, that didn't take her long.

  "Dude, you forgot yourself," Jack said, counting the plates as they went out.

  "I know," I said.

  "I didn't know mister Thirty-Eight had joined the team," Jennifer said. Other than Jack, Jennifer was the tallest person in the room. She had sharp features and an athletic build. Wearing a short sleeve blouse and khaki shorts with running shoes, she tried to draw attention to her long legs. It wasn't hard to see why Nick had worked past the abrasive first impression she'd made on the team. Though I confess, I probably couldn't manage to go out with a girl if she kneed me hard enough that I'd puked. How they went from that to being a couple... I wish I'd been paying attention. I'm glad we hadn't had that type of incident in a while. As team leader, I'd have to sort it all out.

  "I might as well be an honorary member," Jack said, "We've fought together enough times."

  "You're twice the average age," she said.

  "Xiv's two, that brings down the average a bit."

  "One and a half," Xiv said.

  "Same effect."

  "Hooray for basic arithmetic," Jennifer said, taking her seat. I mentally ran the numbers. Counting Xiv, our average age was just above sixteen. Without him, it was about eighteen. Jack was thirty-six. Jennifer was right either way, though not that diplomatic to point it out. Though it was still nicer than she had been in the past. I didn't want to point out that our board representative, who'd wiped the floor with half the team, was in his nineties. I think he was holding back in that fight anyway.

  While I was fetching breakfast fixings back out of the fridge to make my own, the intercom buzzed. "Go ahead," Nora said. Of course she was the first to get to it.

  "Security here. We have someone requesting access to the facility. They have a BHA card. Identification reads 'Donald Colfax'."

  "Donny!" Nora shouted, rushing off. Pam leaned over and pushed the button.

  "Someone's on their way up to escort him in."

  "Confirmed," the voice on the intercom said. I took out enough to cook for two. Donny hadn't called ahead. Last I knew he was still on the west coast. He'd taken a traineeship with a team there. Normally flying halfway cross the country involved at least a phone call of forewarning. The food came off the stove just as we heard the blast door closing again.

  Of the three of us, Donny was the youngest, by one year. After he was born, Mom and Dad split with the church on contraceptives, having had a child a year for three years running. It was a few years before Jeremy came along. I sighed. I had to bring Mom and Jeremy flowers, and make sure their graves were being kept clean. The new crew at the cemetery was a bit lax on maintenance.

  "I almost didn't believe it when I heard you guys got yourselves a nuclear missile silo," Donny said, coming around the short wall separating the atrium from the mess. He had Mom's light brown hair and was dressed in civilian clothes.

  "And I almost didn't believe it when I heard you showed up on our doorstep without calling ahead," I said.

  "I wanted to surprise my big brother for his birthday," Donny said.

  "You still have a few days to go," I said.

  "This flight was cheaper. And I figured I'd need the time to convince you to stop being serious for a few hours."

  "You think you can get the 'fearless leader' to unwind?" Jennifer asked. "Good luck with that."

  "So what's up for today?" Donny asked.

  "We have to pick up a team member from the hospital," I said.

  "You're physically incapable of delivering good news, aren't you?"

  Part 5

  A thunderstorm rolled in off the plain and drenched New Port Arthur, or so the news was saying. Hail, torrential downpour, the usual stuff. Ensconced in the command center, I didn't notice any of it. The river would have to rise thirty feet to reach Gruefield Eighteen, and six more to get into our vents. At that height, it would be a hundred miles across, and would have wiped most of the city off the map. On the external security feeds, I watched the rain and hail pounding down on the grounds. The truth is, I was eavesdropping on the whole city. News feeds, emergency band radios, a torrent of information, most of it coming too fast to really process.

  That was the whole point of the control center though. A circular room at the apex of the command center's 'dome', a ring of monitors, keyboards and a chair on a track to glide between them. To be fair, it was a very comfy chair since anyone tasked with sitting in it was stuck for hours. An open lift at the center of the ring gave access to the second floor below. The second floor housed the datacenter. It was a disaster recovery
site for the Fund should something go wrong with a facility out in Oakland. It also helped process the mass of data, looking for anything which might be of note to us.