Gruefield 18 (Tarnished Sterling Omnibus)

by Robert McCarroll

  "She died," Ixa said coldly. Stephanie had picked up the mantle of Ixahau with her mother's death. I hadn't known her then, and we tended to avoid the topic of mothers most of the time.

  "I'm sorry," the new arrival said.

  "Silver Whirlwind isn't it?" dad asked.

  The leader of the All-Star Elementals smiled slightly broader. "Yes, I am. While I know you from reputation, I'm afraid I don't know this young man."

  "Shadowdemon," I said. "I'd offer to shake, but..." I tugged at the edge of my sling with my free hand.

  "I should have guessed." Uninvited, Silver Whirlwind sat down at our table. With a swirl of air that glowed like a twist of liquid moonlight, she lifted a menu to her hand. "I forgot this was the Midwest," she said, looking over the options. "Is there anything not mostly made out of meat?"

  "They don't tend to puree animals into the beverages," I said. Dad gave me an angry look and I shrank a little. For her part, Silver Whirlwind ignored my snark.

  "I'm gaining weight just reading this," she said, tossing the menu back on the table. While I was tempted to pick something extra-meaty, I was tempered by the fact that one of my arms was out of commission. Silver Whirlwind was playing aloof, but I had the distinct impression she was watching us. "You three aren't very talkative."

  "Is there something you wanted to discuss?" Dad asked. I should probably practice that ultra-serious tone, or develop one of my own. There were times when it came in handy. Silver Whirlwind lost a bit of her smile.

  "Now that you mention it, there is this slanderous accusation directed at one of my members. And the community here doesn't seem to be doing anything to refute it."

  "The part where Arclight was accused of planting bombs?" I asked.

  "Our efforts to round up the local Morlock Society cell are ongoing," Ixa said. "If you have information that might be of assistance, feel free to share it."

  "No, we don't know anything. But a little more cooperation would be nice."

  "Arclight never told anyone he was in town," dad said. "The first we knew of his presence was in the wake of the Darjeeling explosion. It's hard to cooperate with someone who does not communicate."

  "I'll have to have a talk with him on the matter," Silver Whirlwind said. I had to admit I was impressed at how little impact Dad seemed to have on her. The fact that she kept up the appearance of complete calm said something for her confidence or self control. I wasn't sure which. I didn't like her that much, but that was a separate issue. A waiter came by and took our orders. Silver Whirlwind and I both ended up ordering a salad, albeit for different reasons.

  "So how do you guys know the Baron Mortis?" she asked.

  "I'm a regional coordinator and compliance officer," Dad said. "I know most of the veteran heroes, and am familiar with the rest."

  "I don't know the one who's retiring," I said.

  "I'm here as a guest," Ixa said.

  "That's a very interesting way of phrasing it," Silver Whirlwind said. "It implies you know his successor."

  I was on the verge of saying 'you could take it that way', but simply said, "Yes."

  "You know, they've been awfully hush on that subject. Who is going to be number eight?"

  "The Warped Woodsman," Dad said. Silver Whirlwind's unflappable demeanor vanished with her expression.

  "You know, I'd have thought my own team member would clue me in on something like this."

  "He hadn't decided until recently," I said. "And was looking for a way to break it to you."

  "So it's more than a thirty-eight."

  "I didn't say that."

  "Yes you did," Silver Whirlwind said. "But I can see why you want to pretend you didn't. After all, it's not your place to tell me."

  "Nothing's been finalized," Dad said, "But he is moving home."

  "Oh well, we hadn't voted on extending an offer of full membership yet. I guess we can save our effort." The dagger in her eye said something very different. "Did he say why?"

  "He didn't fit in with the Elementals, and was getting homesick."

  "You're very definite on that."

  "And you're pretending you don't know his connection to us," Dad said. "Since I was involved in the application process, I know you do. There's no need to play coy."

  "Okay, so your boy is moving home," she said. "I'm just pissed he didn't tell me first. I just didn't want to blurt it out in case she didn't know." Silver Whirlwind tipped her head towards Ixa.

  "Indeed," Ixa said. "But the demon family is almost as well known a lineage as the Edgars."

  Silver Whirlwind waved the comment aside dismissively. "I can't make assumptions."

  A man walked up to the table. He was dressed in a blue suit with a black tie, a blue trench coat and fedora. His blue domino mask was slightly smaller than mine. Ice-blue eyes stared out from what was a deathly pale face. The air around him seemed to drop a few degrees. His cheeks were gaunt and his lips were thin. He moved with a deliberate slowness, not wasting effort on unnecessary motion.

  "Why are you bothering them?" he asked. His voice was hushed, conspiratorial.

  "If any of you are not aware," Silver Whirlwind said. "This is Cold Case. He knows the outgoing Baron better than I."

  "Evening," Cold Case said with a tip of the head. His voice was still almost too quiet to register. "I'm not going to stick around, I hear I have a reserved seat."

  "Relax," Silver Whirlwind said.

  "No." With that, Cold Case turned and walked off.

  "He'd be less miserable if he took that damn coat off from time to time."

  "Everyone has their idiosyncrasies," Dad said.

  "Yeah, but he keeps complaining that he's too warm."

  "Then why does he work out of California?" I asked.

  Silver Whirlwind smiled. "I can't answer that. You know I can't."

  "Okay, why do you work out of California?"

  "Because I live there," she said, smirking. My frown showed my lack of humor at the comment. She made another dismissive gesture. "The weather, the mountains, the people. Oh, and the ocean."

  "The taxes? The toxic economic climate? The corruption?"

  Silver Whirlwind scowled at me. "You're a conservative, aren't you?"

  "I'm a realist."

  Silver Whirlwind turned to Dad. "Your kid's a cynic."

  "It runs in the family," he said.

  "Figures there's a bunch of hicks in flyover country," Silver Whirlwind muttered, turning her back to us to watch the proceedings.

  Part 20

  I was right. The skull mask didn't fit Donny properly. The carved ivory plaque had yellowed over the past two hundred years, and was almost certainly too fragile to risk in a fight. That did nothing to erase Donny's dopey, oversized grin. Most of the speeches were dull, but there were a few humorous anecdotes tossed about. I wondered what it was like to take on a venerable legacy. Probably a more weighty prospect than Donny was treating it. But I didn't want to spoil his moment. I left that to Silver Whirlwind, who confronted him while we were on our way to the car. He stammered out an apology, enough to send his former team leader on her way. Weary and hurting, I collapsed into my bed at the base. Almost as soon as I remembered my suspicions about Omicron's remote, the timer kicked in and I passed out.

  In the moonlight, the towers of the Shining Future Arch looked white. I was atop one of the low-rise towers a block in from the river. Leyden Heights loomed to the North of me, and the darkness of Gruefield stretched west. Downtown was at my back. My fingers gripped the edge of the roof as I perched like a gargoyle, watching the skies. They glided along slowly, one with wings outstretched, the other standing atop a block of golden light. They reacted faster than the others, and I hurtled into a wall of golden light as I leapt at them. Miss Pain's construct shattered
with my impact, but it slowed me enough for Stamp to grab my arm and throw me at the pavement. I hit with an asphalt-cracking thud.

  Her punch, augmented by the speed of her fall, put a crater into the street. But I had flipped out of the way, vaulting her shoulders to launch myself skyward again. Miss Pain caught me in a vice. Clutching at the golden construct, I tore at it. Wherever the shadows roiling off my skin touched the light, the construct cracked and splintered. Soon, even my meagre strength rent it asunder, sending shards flying in all directions. Stepping on the air, I launched myself at Miss Pain again. I got my arms around her even as she snagged me with a construct about the waist. Having learned from the last one, this construct was extra bulky, allowing it to tighten and pull even as it shed shards in contact with my aura. There was only one way to stop her psychic constructs.

  Grabbing her head, I pulled off her hair band and crushed it in my grip. The cohesion of her constructs faltered, and she plunged through the block she'd been riding. Unable to halt her descent, she screamed. Stamp caught her before she went splat, slowing her fall to a gentle one. An iron grip wrapped about my ankle. Spinning about, Jack threw me into the east tower of the Shining Future Arch. The stone facade cracked, spilling cobble-sized chunks into the river. As I pried myself out of the cavity I'd made in the tower, Jack grabbed me again and hurtled into the road deck. We hit the asphalt with enough force to cause the bridge span to ripple.

  He should have been watching for traffic. In a squeal of air brakes, a semi-truck hit him. Since I was partly embedded in the pavement, it passed harmlessly over me. It came to a stop with the trailer still between me and the sky. I took the opportunity to dart away into the shadows.

  I hurt all over when Mini-Uth-sk prodded me awake. As I lifted my hand to rub my eyes, blood dripped from my palm. Looking at this new injury, I picked something out of the wound - a piece of gold plastic. I saw the source of the plastic on the floor near my bed, and I shuddered. It was a headband. The plastic casing was shattered and the internal circuitry crushed beyond all repair. I made sure to don pants before picking it up and heading down to the mess hall. All eyes were on me as I placed the headband on the table.

  "Where did you get that?" Jennifer asked. Her expression was haggard. She was still in costume save for the mask, which lay on her lap, and the headband I'd brought down. Pam's eyes narrowed at me.

  "I know who, but not why."

  "Time out," Nora said. "Someone fill me in on what I'm not getting."

  "The shadow took that headband off me during the attack," Jennifer said.

  "So you know who this shadow is?" Nora asked, looking at me.

  "Yes," I said. "It's me."

  "Bullshit," Nora said. "How? You don't have the powers this thing does. You don't have any powers."

  "I don't know the how, and I don't know the why," I said.

  "You almost killed our teammates!" Pam grabbed the front of my t-shirt and slammed me into the wall. As she pulled back to deliver a punch, Jack caught her wrist.

  "Let him finish," Jack said. Grudgingly, Pam let go.

  "It began after I got the remote for this Ygnaza implant. I started to dream of shadow attacks. That's why I called Donny after, well, that one. I just wasn't sure if I was seeing them as they happened, or... if I was there." I slid the headband along the table to Jennifer. "Now I know."

  "What remote?" Pam asked.

  "Omicron sent me a present."

  "Why would you trust anything from that sick fuck?"

  "I hadn't slept in nine months," I said. "I needed... I needed the rest." Pam pushed me into a chair and began to stomp off. She stopped at the end of the table.

  "You're not going to use it again, right?" she asked, not turning to face me.

  "I can't. It's too dangerous. And we need to run more tests, find out how he did it, and how it got past the screening."

  "I thought when he went to prison that'd be the end of it," Pam said.

  "You're not the only one," I said. One of those long uncomfortable silences descended on the room. The kind where no one wanted to let it continue, but didn't want to be the first to speak either. "I know it doesn't mean much, but I'm sorry." Jennifer laughed a hollow, disconnected laugh.

  "You said you don't know why. Care to elaborate?"

  "I wasn't actually in control. During these fights I was spectating, my mind fogged up like a dream. That why I wasn't sure I was actually there."

  "I'm still stuck on the how," Nora said. "With all the research into powers, and how hard they are to impart intentionally..." She shook her head. "There's no way Omicron in a prison cell beat the rest of the world to it, genius or no."

  "He used both magic and technology in his work," Jennifer said. "Spells can grant temporary abilities which look a lot like powers. And magic is on the short list of things that rip through my constructs the way he did." She glared at the broken headband on the table. "That doesn't make me any less inclined to let Pam pound you into a grease stain."

  Xiv climbed down from the balcony and walked over to where I sat. I hadn't even seen him up there, but it wasn't much of a surprise. I glanced in his direction, but couldn't really come up with anything to say. Xiv put a hand on my shoulder. "I don't blame you," he said.

  "Oh, that makes it all better," Jennifer said. "He didn't drop you six stories and leave you out of commission for... I have no idea how long. I've never broken my focus before."

  "What does that thing do?" Nora asked.

  "Only top rate psychics can make constructs from sheer force of will," Jennifer said. "The rest of us need something to help focus our energy. Without it, you'd have to practice one form for years to make a construct of it."

  "Could that be why Serar only used his winged avatar?" I asked. "No focus?"

  Jennifer glared at me. "Don't change the subject."

  "Recriminations aside," Jack said, "We need to concentrate on finding out how Omicron did it, and running down the bad guys who are still loose."

  I really shouldn't be surprised when Jack deploys the longer words in his vocabulary. I might know a lot of people smarter than him, but Jack wasn't an idiot by any stretch. A bit childish, but not an idiot.

  "And what about him?" Jennifer pointed at me.

  "I don't think he would have confessed if he was doing it deliberately. It's not as if we were close to figuring it out ourselves," Jack said. Jennifer bit her lower lip and drew in a harsh breath.

  "Okay, you're right," she said. "All rationality says this is an outside plot. But it's really hard to accept that."

  "Dad needs to know," Nora said. I nodded, not wanting to think of what his reaction would be.

  It was easier to take Pam and Jennifer being mad at me. I understood that response. What left me completely baffled was Dad being understanding. He made some remark about this not being the first convoluted plot he'd seen, and reiterated the uncertainty about Omicron's end game and methods. But the correlation was far too strong to ignore. It all made logical sense, it just refused to gel with expectations. I've been randomly attacking my own team members, there's no reason for him to be understanding. If there was any time he should be mad at me, this was it.

  My head hurt, and Mini-Uth-sk was mocking me, telling me I'd never be rid of him. Dawn broke over the city as we were driving into town. Well, Dad drove. My shoulder left me in no shape to operate a vehicle. We got bogged down in the morning rush, making the trip to Sterling Towers rather lengthy. We parked next to a panel truck. The workers were unloading a palette as I managed to climb out of the car. My eyebrow raised as I recognized the array of six not-quite Leiden jars from Dekker's hospital room. An ominous maelstrom of electric blue and dark purple energy crackled within each of the jars. "Careful," the worker with a clipboard said, stepping in front of me. "The manifest says this is hazardous material. An
d, from the looks of it, I believe it."

  I nodded and headed towards where Dad was waiting. We took a freight entrance in. As it was normally short on human guard, there were more technological safeguards. The guards standing by it today were clearly there for the shipment from Vanguard. Glancing back at the array of jars, the memory of Dekker impaled by a large shard of glass came back to the forefront of my mind. It was still raw enough to be off-putting, but I'd seen far more gruesome things. The elevator we rode in seemed to be lacking something. After a moment, I realized that it had opaque walls.