Gruefield 18 (Tarnished Sterling Omnibus)

by Robert McCarroll

  "Before this year, I don't think I'd even heard of Roy Byrd."

  "He died before your dad was born."

  "But he was an icon of the golden age, and a film star," I gestured towards the television, which picked an inopportune time to go to commercial.

  "There were so many you could waste your entire life on the subject and still not know them all. I mean, even without the proliferation of recent years."

  "I guess so. I didn't even recognize Neutrino when I first saw him at the Doolittle club, and he never really went away."

  "You know what I've been wondering?" Ben asked.

  "What?"

  "Why don't any of the villains in these movies do what you did?"

  "I'm sorry?"

  "I mean turn off the belt. Half of them can fly. Ranger Roy can't, not by himself."

  "Please don't remind me," I said.

  "What?"

  "Sure, Drake ended up dropping like a stone, but without him holding me up, I put a hole in the back wall of the store. The DA cut a stack of plea bargains because the burglars did less damage than we did."

  "Yeah, your force bubble turned into a wrecking ball, but that doesn't invalidate the question."

  "Within the mythos of the movie, does the belt actually do anything?"

  "I... assumed it was based on real life," Ben said. I laughed.

  "You sure you're old enough to go off to college?"

  "Don't pull that 'officially my mentor' crap," Ben said. "Outside of hand to hand combat, there's not much you've been able to teach me."

  "That's only on paper," I said. "It's not normal to have a sidekick who's older than you."

  "Speaking of sidekicks, I'm still annoyed that you're looking for my replacement when I haven't even left yet."

  "Oh come on, we've already replaced Nora. And she's actually family." Ben laughed, unable to keep his serious expression up.

  "Sorry, I'm not actually mad. I just wanted to get a reaction."

  "That's an unhealthy habit. Nora can get away with it because she can outrun me."

  "How fast do you think you are?"

  "Uh, track scholarship? Completed a marathon at fifteen? I'm the second fastest member of my family." Technically marathons were more about endurance than raw speed, but Ben didn't seem to realize that. I also hadn't quite managed a four minute mile yet, but I'd come close. The chances of Ben outrunning me on foot were next to none. Okay, maybe over a really short distance. I do tend to be slow off the block.

  "Okay, okay, I won't do it again."

  "So what are you going to study if you can't use a computer?"

  "Actually," Ben said. "I've been working on that. If the keyboard had mechanical keys, I can use it. And most mice keep the sensitive components far enough from the hand that I can keep my output down. So anything where I don't have to stick my hands inside the electronics will work."

  "Do they make keyboards with mechanical keys?"

  "Sure, they cost more, but they're more durable. They're also very clicky, so it sounds like a telegraph when you're typing fast." He mimed the action of typing with a bit of a smirk as he said that.

  "You're just happy you figured out how to use a computer, aren't you?"

  "I don't think someone with as many gadgets as you can really comprehend what it's like to be isolated from modern technology."

  "I could theorize," I said. "But you didn't answer my question. What's your major?"

  "Undecided."

  "They let you enroll like that?"

  "Yes."

  "And you're going to spend how much money aimlessly?"

  Ben fell quiet for a moment. "Its not like I haven't given it a lot of thought. What would you study? You're not that far off yourself."

  "I..." I drew a blank. It sort of went hand in hand with the question 'what do you want to do?' I didn't have an answer for that one either.

  "Soo... Undecided."

  "It's not like I've already applied and taken out loans."

  "Loans nothing, I'm on a BHA grant."

  "I'm sure the taxpayers will be so happy to find out you're spending their money on an undecided major." Ben shot me the closest thing to an angry look I'd ever seen him give. "Oh come on, you've seen how my family treats each other. You think I'm going to spare you a few verbal barbs? It beats fists."

  "I've been on the receiving end of your fists too."

  "I rest my case."

  "That just makes you sound like an awful person."

  "You're serious enough to follow my sister to college despite not knowing what you want to study, and you complain about being treated like a member of the family? Sorry, you don't get it both ways."

  "Have you thought about therapy?"

  "I'm in therapy."

  "I... didn't mean it that way."

  "Of course you did. Someone rode your case for being insensitive, didn't they?"

  "My mother is a poster child for political correctness."

  "You poor bastard. How did you convince her to let you become a sidekick?"

  "An emancipation order from the court. She didn't have a say anymore."

  "Usually you need cause for one of those."

  "I don't think I trust you enough to tell you about it."

  "Is that why you sleep at the base?"

  "It saves on rent. Which is good because I don't have much time for work these days."

  "Do you think anyone here had a 'normal' childhood?"

  "Maybe."

  "Who?"

  "I'd say Miss Pain came the closest. It depends on your definition of normal."

  Part 23

  I was sidelined for Saturday. Though Stephanie gave me a kiss and an apology shortly after, that didn't quite make up for being told to stay put. While they were off searching the old PCN station for Morlocks, I was tutoring Xiv. I know Donny had only been joking when he implied I'd adopted Xiv, but I did get stuck with more of the parental type responsibilities than anyone else. The team returned grimy and disappointed. Evidently they'd forgotten that of the people who could pick locks, one was hospitalized, and they'd left the other behind. I tried not to imagine the damage they did. It was clear there were no Morlocks at the station.

  Sunday I gave them my sidekick shortlist. They didn't look terribly impressed. Of course, no one took me up on the offer to go through the raw stack themselves. I was dragged along as part of the team to embarrass ourselves with Hypershadow. I drove Donny, Ixa and Pam. Nora ran along on foot. She easily beat us there. 'There' was a parking garage across the street from a small office park in the shadow of Dreadmere Plaza. Dreadmere was an eyesore, but it was also an iconic part of the city skyline. Five towers shaped like obelisks, arrayed in a quincunx, with the center tower significantly bigger than the other four in all proportions. Clad in black glass, it was a striking set of buildings. It loomed even more because the builders had bought airspace from its neighbors to exceed the normal height limitations. That meant it was surrounded by shorter than normal buildings.

  The office park we were interested in had a ring of these buildings around a courtyard paved in flagstones. There were six or more small alleys into the courtyard, providing plenty of escape routes. "I don't like it," I said. Dad frowned on improvisation being the primary plan. It was okay to improvise when needed, but blundering in unprepared was generally a bad idea.

  "You could have come up with a plan," Nora said. "Where's what's his name? Photovolt?"

  "He said he'd be here," Ixa said.

  "I am here," Arch said. We looked around for a moment. Remembering what he said about not being able to effect light outside the visible, I switched my eye to thermal. Instantly, he showed up, standing near one of the support pillars. I pointed at him.

 
"You still emit heat," I said.

  "I know," Arch said, fading to visible. His hero suit was black and gold, with a starburst over his chest. The sigil at the center looked like an old fashioned flashbulb with a lightning bolt for a filament. His mask covered the entire upper half of his face. "It's been a while since I put this thing on, and I feel naked."

  "You didn't say you could do that!" Nora said.

  "I said I can manipulate light. With enough concentration, I can make myself almost invisible. Don't worry, I haven't tried to sneak into a locker room since high school." He meant it as a joke, but the girls were not amused.

  "Almost?" Donny asked.

  "I know it isn't much, but my pupils are still visible - from in front and behind. If I didn't let light into my eyes, I'd be blind."

  "Have you thought of using thermal imaging goggles?" I asked. "You can't work in that wavelength anyway." A contemplative look came over Photovolt.

  "I could try that."

  "Great idea. Give the guy who jokes about invading privacy the key to being harder to detect," Nora said. Part of me wanted to quip that we all invade privacy, that it was our primary mode of operation. The rest of me decided that would be a dick move and silenced the first part. I didn't want to quibble over nuance. Photovolt took the comment with more aplomb than I expected.

  "Despite Blue's claims to the contrary, there is a plan. Our objective at this point is a strategic draw," Ixa said.

  "Okay, care to share the details?" I asked.

  "The primary plan is for me to keep their negotiator occupied while Photovolt slowly adjusts light levels to provide Shadowdemon cover. He will attempt to plant a tracer on the negotiator so that when talks fall apart, we'll be able to follow him back to his base of operations. The backup plan should he be detected prior to planting his tracer is for Blue Streak to use the confusion of the immediate aftermath to do so instead."

  "Why am I not the primary?" Nora asked.

  "You're more likely to be noticed," Ixa said. "A tracer is useless if it gets found and discarded."

  "Yeah, okay, fair enough."

  "So we're not expecting to win this?" Arch asked.

  "I'm hoping to avoid a fight, but I know the odds are against us leaving the plaza with the amulet," Ixa said. "So instead of going for the long shot win, I'm hedging our bets to set up a better strategic position next time."

  "So what are Stamp and I doing?" Donny asked.

  "You two are a reserve in case a fight breaks out."

  "I'm not exactly a combat powerhouse unless you want me to cause massive property damage to collect my ammunition," Donny said. He held up the silver-headed walking stick. "Other than that, this is all I've got."

  "It's wood isn't it?" I asked.

  "After Serar, I figured I should at least carry something with me." Donny adjusted his plastic skull mask and rested his hands on the walking stick.

  "You look like a stage magician," Nora said.

  "Enough," Ixa said. "Shadowdemon, Photovolt, move to the south side of the courtyard. Stamp, Baron Mortis, move to the west. Blue Streak, with me." We headed out with a quick affirmative.

  "So I just keep you in shadow?" Photovolt asked.

  "That's the plan." We crossed the street and moved down the line of offices opposite Dreadmere Plaza. Slipping into one of the narrower alleys between buildings, I crept toward the central courtyard. It was an ugly space paved in regularly sized stones with an ugly pile of scrap metal in the middle. Someone probably told an overpaid designer that it was art and only a philistine wouldn't recognize it. More often than not, the person making a claim like that is a con man and the emperor is just naked. Standing in the shadow of the pile of scrap was a fat man in a gray suit. His hair was slicked back and badly thinning. He carried a plain aluminum briefcase in his left hand. He had a pronounced lower lip and a second chin that overshadowed his first chin.

  Seeing the girls step into the courtyard, he stood up straight and walked towards them. The clomp of his hard soled shoes on the flagstones echoed through the eerily silent space. "Good evening juffrouen. It is good to be popular, no?" Despite his choice of language, the fat man was using a comedically fake Russian accent. It was hard to take him seriously.

  "Just how popular are we talking?" Ixa asked.

  "Oh, just the dozen or so people around this office park. Some in tights, some with guns. Really, I'd heard the sterling had started to tarnish, but this is embarrassing."

  The shadows began to creep out from the alley, and I took the hint, edging along with them towards the fat man.

  "Do you have what what I asked for?"

  "You and I both know you haven't got the funds to afford what you asked for," the fat man said, turning to leave. "The sterling may be tarnished, but it's not that rotten yet."

  "What about barter?" Ixa asked. The fat man paused. I was starting to get close.

  "Now that you might be able to do." He turned back to Ixa. "I can get my hands on what you're looking for. In exchange - I want Firegod."

  "What's Firegod?" Ixa asked.

  "Don't play coy with me juffrou," the fat man said. He swung the briefcase into my face, knocking me clear of Photovolt's shadow. He was stronger than he looked. The world spun as I pulled myself up to my knees. "Call off your goons with the guns," the fat man said. A void opened up in the air near him, He plunged his arm in and pulled out a sledgehammer. "Or I start breaking people."

  "We didn't bring guns," Ixa said.

  "You know, I think I believe you. You may be in trouble." He turned and started to walk away. "Your price is Firegod."

  A purple streak collided with me and knocked me back to the pavement. I barely had time to register it before the sound of a gunshot rang out. One of the flagstones shattered. Nora pointed a finger at one of the office buildings on the East side of the courtyard. There was an open window with the blinds partly raised. "Sniper," she said. I fired my line launcher at the building and hurled across the courtyard. Switching my eye to thermal, the shooter inside became clearly visible. He cycled open the bolt as I landed against the wall next to the window. Before he could push the bolt forward again, I grabbed the barrel of the rifle and yanked it out the window. He stumbled after it, planting his face into the mini blinds.

  I clubbed the sniper with his own rifle. The weapon was a basic hunting rifle of the sort available in any sporting goods store in America. It could take down a whitetail or a black bear, and could certainly ruin my day. The bolt was still open. I hurled it at the flagstones, shattering the optics in the scope. The sniper looked towards me. His mask was of a familiar pattern. The Morlocks had worn them at 722 Walker. "Where are your friends?" I asked, tugging at the front of his plaid shirt. Before he could answer, one of them landed on the roof. Back lit by the moon, the thin membranes of his wings appeared to glow a blood red.

  Victor stood shirtless, partially transformed. Aside from his wings, he had clawed hands and two black horns emerging from his head. With the snarl on his lips and the points on his teeth, he looked more demonic than draconic. A ragged line of red ran between the side of his nose and the bottom of his eye. It had been roughly stitched closed. More Morlocks emerged into the courtyard, submachineguns raised.

  "Do you really think Bussard brought the amulet to this meeting?" Ixa asked.

  "Who gives a fuck about some piece of jewelery?" Victor asked. "I'm here to kill you. And this time, you'll stay dead." This last sentence he directed towards me. I released the grip plate from the building and dropped to the ground as he spewed flame at me. The sniper barely stumbled back inside the window before he was incinerated. I rolled to my feet.

  One of the Morlocks tried to stop Bussard from leaving. The fat man casually smashed the gun from his hands and took out the Morlock's knee on the back swing. He was still holding
his hammer one-handed. "I do hope the Morlocks don't eat you, little Eloi," Bussard said. "I would very much like to have Firegod." He casually strolled through a hail of gunfire as he left the courtyard. Not a single bullet struck. The Morlocks looked quite dumbfounded.

  "That one would be a handy spell to know," Ixa said.

  Victor crashed into the flagstones between me and the scrap pile. He snarled and chucked one of the flagstones at my face. I rolled out of the way, letting it smash into the building behind me. From the spray of fragments that bounced off my back, it hit hard.