Superluminary (Powered Destinies Book 1)

by Olivia Rising

  “Hey, why don’t you ask me how I’m doing,” Sunny complained, pushing his way into Sarina’s attention. “I’m the star of the show, remember?”

  She forced a nervous laugh. “Okay. How are you doing, Sun?”

  “Fine, thanks for asking!”

  Jasper rolled his eyes.

  “Hey, Sunny boy! Over here!” Ace called. “We need those big ears of yours.”

  Jasper put a hand on Sarina’s shoulder. “Remember, I’ve got your back,” he whispered, draping the cloak over her. “If it comes down to it, I’m pretty good at throwing coffee cups. And trust me, television studios are full of those.”

  Sarina couldn’t help but to smile a little. You’re such a dork, she thought affectionately.

  Jasper flashed a quick glance at Sunny, who was preoccupied with helping Ace and Tess listen to what the security forces were saying over their radios. The boy’s young face strained with concentration.

  “I have an idea about how to control your power, in case you need to use it. Mind you, I’m not sure it will work, but…” Jasper said with a hopeful expression.

  Sarina knew that she should have been happy by his news. How many hours had she spent wishing she could control her stupid, unpredictable power? The idea of using it at all made her feel ill. Before she could say anything, Jasper conspiratorially leaned in close to her.

  “There’s something about my power no one knows,” he whispered. “I think I can use it to help you.”

  “Like what?” She asked, curious.

  As he was fiddling with the clasp on her cloak, he whispered next to her ear. “I can sense people’s moods.”

  Sarina’s eyebrows shot up. “You can sense people’s moods?”

  He nodded.

  She glanced at Tess, Ace, and Sunny. “Like an Empath?” she whispered, hoping that Sunny’s super hearing was focused on the mission ahead rather than his teammates.

  “Not quite, I don’t think,” he said. “They never managed to classify me. But what I’m saying is I can somehow sense your moods when your power kicks in, and I think part of the problem is that you’re in the wrong mood to use it. You’re either scared or stressed out and angry.”

  Sarina’s mind returned to the Sun King’s court and the awful junkyard basement. Stressed out and angry is definitely an understatement, she thought. What Jasper said made sense. Kind of.

  Jasper helped her put the mask’s elastic around her head. “So how about this,” he whispered. “If you have to use your power today, take a moment to think about something positive. Something you love—something worth fighting for and protecting. Even a second will help.”

  “But I don’t want to use my power,” she reiterated. “Ever again.”

  Jasper lowered his hand to reach into his jeans pocket. “You might have to anyway. Remember what I said, okay?” He pressed the Mp3 player into her hand, and closed her fingers around it.

  Track seven, she recalled.

  “Today is all about Tess and Sunny,” she said. “The rest of us won’t even be needed.”

  “You never know,” Jasper whispered back, his fingers still wrapped around her closed fist.

  Sarina sighed. “Fine,” she muttered, slipping the player into her cloak pocket. “If it makes you happy.”

  “It does,” he assured her.

  “You two ready?” Ace called over. “We gotta get moving.”

  Jasper took a hurried step back, and they both looked back at the station wagon where the other Nameless, including Snow, were dressed and ready to go. Tess was easily recognized with her duffel bag with the foot long antenna poking out of it.

  “Yep, good to go,” Jasper called over, pulling his grinning Guy Fawkes mask down over his face.

  “Fall in. We’re heading to the delivery entrance.” Ace led the way down the side street at a brisk pace, his long gray cloak flowing out behind him.

  The alley behind the electronics store was deserted except for a stray dog foraging in strewn trash. He raised his mangy head at the group’s approach, flattened his ears, and gave a low growl. The group walked wide around him.

  “Couldn’t we take the main road?” Sarina asked as the group brushed past graffiti-covered dumpsters. “No one would see us anyway, right?”

  “Someone could take a picture at any time,” Tess pointed out.

  “Smartphones work like cameras,” Sunny said. “They’re too stupid to be tricked by me.”

  Sarina caught herself touching the music player in her pocket. “If the studio’s going to be crowded, aren’t people going to bump into us?”

  “We’re not invisible, if that’s what you’re asking,” Ace clarified. “People are gonna see us as staff who belong, or maybe as an obstacle that’s not worth paying attention to. We’ll blend right in to the background.”

  Sarina was dubious, but she had no choice except to trust her teammates. It looked like Snow was doing the same, silently walking along with her.

  “Will they remember our masks later?” Jasper asked.

  “Nope. They wouldn’t even be able to tell if we were walking on our hands.” Ace waggled the gloved fingers of his right hand. “These get-ups are just in case we get caught on one of the cameras Tess’s buds can’t control.”

  When the group rounded a corner, the back of the NBE Britain studio came into view. Compared to the mayhem out front, its back parking area was surprisingly void of activity. Two delivery trucks were parked against the backside of the building with a trio of men in staff coveralls standing beside the vehicles, smoking and oblivious to the approaching group of masked terrorists.

  Ace didn’t break his stride. “Protecting Sun’s our top priority. If he gets knocked out, everything’s gonna get much more complicated. Second priority is for Tess to have access to the tech room for as long as she needs. The guards aren’t gonna shoot at background noise.”

  As the Nameless stopped in front of a closed door labeled Delivery, Ace approached the keypad beside it.

  “When their satellite live feed gets replaced with Tess’s tape, they’re going to figure out that something’s up,” Sarina pointed out.

  “That’s why we’re gonna tell the on-site crew to stay where they are and keep quiet while Tess works her magic,” Ace told her.

  “And we’ve got to keep them there until our transmission is finished, or else they’ll mess with it,” Tess added.

  Once Ace tapped a sequence of numbers into the keypad, he was rewarded by the small light above that switched from red to green. “Whaddaya know? Lady Luck has done it again,” came Ace’s cocksure voice from behind his mask.

  “Don’t ever play poker with the boss,” Sunny commented. “Spoiler alert—he cheats.”

  The door slid open, and Ace turned to glance over the Nameless. “Once we’re inside, don’t talk more than you have to. Even our Wonderboy here has a hard time keeping on top of everything with this many people around.”

  When Sunny didn’t respond, Sarina assumed that his attention had already shifted to the enormous task ahead of him. Here’s hoping our luck holds.

  The group made their way inside and marched past a couple of inconspicuous gray doors, and then rounded a corner before climbing a stairway to the top level. After spilling into the top-floor hallway and rounding another corner, they arrived in front of a large double door labeled Studios 1 & 2. The muffled sound of voices came from all directions, but there wasn’t anyone in sight. Not yet.

  “What do you hear, kid?” Ace whispered.

  Sunny held up a finger for silence, and tilted his head. When he spoke up his voice was more strained than usual, his words punctuated by faint gasps. “The guests for the show are in there. A Mr. Kovac is one of them. Someone said he used to be in the UNEOA’s Evolved Committee. And there’s a Mrs. Clarke, a journalist or something.”

  “Huh,” Ace grunted, sounding unsure. “What’s Clarke’s first name?”

  There was another pause.

  “Hilary, I think,” th
e boy finally said in a wheeze.

  “She’s a British blogger and political scientist,” Jasper said from the back of the pack. “She’s got millions of followers.”

  “But we weren’t expecting any guests, were we?” Sarina asked in a small voice.

  No hostages, and no one gets hurt.

  “Doesn’t change a thing,” Ace said. “They’ll just have to hunker down and wait it out like everyone else. Come on—we’re moving.”

  He pushed the double doors open and stepped through another door on the left labeled Studio 1. Tess was right behind him, shifting her bag to keep it from bumping into the two guards who flanked each side of the doorway. Neither guard noticed her. One stared into space, looking bored. The other was busy discussing security preparations over his headset.

  When the Nameless followed Ace and Tess inside, Sarina peered up at a small camera that had been installed overhead, wishing she knew for sure that Tess’s hacker friends had everything under control.

  The group progressed past two sets of doors labeled Makeup and Kitchen. Dozens of cameramen, sound guys, and people with clipboards drifted past the masked group, taking absolutely no notice of them. There were only a handful of security forces present inside the building. It looked like the bulk of them had been stationed outside.

  It’s almost too easy. Sarina peered over Jasper’s shoulder and through the glass door panel up ahead, looking into the studio. Two women sat on a couch on the far side of the room next to a man in an adjacent armchair. He was saying something to make the women laugh.

  Sarina smiled at the paper coffee cups in their hands. There you go, Jasper. Your emergency ammunition.

  Ace gave the glass door a push, and held it open for the rest of them. Sarina passed through, knowing Sunny was working his magic by making their entrance unobtrusive.

  The studio consisted of a large rectangular space whose back wall was curved into a slightly elevated semicircle. In front of the curved wall was a stage with couches and decorative elements—what the television audience saw on their TVs. On the big-screen TV behind the guest couches was the NBE Britain logo with its star symbol and surrounding starburst. In front of the couches, several technicians were putting the finishing touches on the three-camera setup that was aimed at the stage. The collective cable clutter trailed across the cement floor, leading into a smaller adjacent room that was the focus of Tess’s attention. The redhead left the group and made her way to it with the bulging duffel bag in hand.

  The production room has to be over there, Sarina deduced.

  “Psst, team,” Ace hissed. “Make sure you don’t get caught on these cameras, all right? Remember, our friends only control the security recording equipment. Tess will take over these TV cameras as soon as the coast is clear.”

  Stepping over trailing cables on the floor, he made his way to the far sidewall out of the way of the scurrying TV staff and cameras. Snow and Jasper followed his example, helping a visibly groggy Sunny along the way.

  Sarina watched the interaction on stage for a minute before she joined the others. The short-haired brunette snickered beneath a splay of fingers while the large blonde woman with the pinned-up hair energetically talked. The brunette was probably the moderator, Sarina guessed, while the blonde was the blogger. The man in the armchair was formally dressed so he had to be the UNEOA representative, Mr. Kovac. His fingers were perpetually busy, checking and rechecking the arrangement of his tie.

  “Five minutes before they start,” Ace announced from behind his mask. “If shit goes south, Snow’s gonna open a direct passage to the fire escape, got it? But as long as we’re good, all we’ve gotta do is wait for Tess to finish.”

  “Is Sunny okay?” Sarina peered at the thin cloaked figure who sat on the floor against the wall.

  “Yeah, he’ll be fine,” Ace assured her. “He’s a little overwhelmed, listening while hiding us from all these people.”

  Sarina sat on the floor beside the kid. She felt like she was about to be involved in some terrible crime. Sure, the others had told her this was all for the greater good, that it would help them all in the long run, but her heart fluttered like an anxious bird, unconvinced by their arguments.

  Crybaby. The thought darted through her mind with a startling intensity, yet felt detached from her own consciousness. For a moment she wondered whether she suffered from late-onset side effects of her drug abuse. But the anger claimed every reasonable part of her mind, shoving the thoughts aside.

  Behind her mask, Sarina closed her eyes and inhaled a deep plastic-scented breath. She forced pleasant, peaceful thoughts into her mind, like Jasper told her.

  Mom and Dad. David. Family dinners. Dancing….

  Now that she was focused on the images in her mind’s eye, Sarina felt herself slightly relax. She was still angry—at herself, for the most part—but she no longer felt like she would burst any moment.

  She turned her head to look at the front of the studio. The stage manager was checking the guests’ microphones now, while a cameraman gave last-minute instructions to the host. The large screen behind the couches flickered a few times, showing a viewpoint from a different studio before defaulting back to the channel’s starburst logo.

  “We’re on in one minute!” a male voice rang out from somewhere near the tech set-up room. On cue, the atmosphere changed from casual banter to professional anticipation. The host and her two guests passed their coffee cups to an assistant before assuming formal poses.

  Someone clasped Sarina’s fingers. She didn’t have to look to know it was Jasper. You’ve always got my back, she thought, smiling behind her mask.

  “On in five … four…” the stage manager announced, silently finishing the countdown on raised fingers. When he reached zero a brief jingle was played, followed by a velvety female voice from the loudspeakers above the stage. “NBE Britain, up to date for the world.”

  The world. Sarina’s heart skipped a beat. The whole world is watching.

  “Welcome to Liverpool,” the brunette host began, directing her smile at the camera. “We are on air with a live show to accompany the long-awaited UNEOA press conference scheduled to begin in half an hour. I’m Elena Young, and I’m pleased to welcome our guests for today’s special transmission. Mr. Elijah Kovac and Mrs. Hilary Clarke.”

  The host introduced each of the guests, elaborating on their professional backgrounds. On the other side of the room, Tess jerked a thumb in the direction of the production studio. Ace shook his head and held up a finger.

  As Sarina watched, he drew out a modified long-barreled gun from under his cloak and loaded it with a strange-looking cartridge. She squeezed her fingers around Jasper’s hand, her heart pounding in her chest.

  No hostages, and no one gets hurt, remember?

  Ace turned at the weight of Sarina’s stare. “Tranquilizer gun,” he said. “Tess made it. It hurts a little, but doesn’t do any real damage.”

  “Okay,” Sarina replied, unconvinced. What else could she say at this point?

  “My resignation had nothing to do with the Covenant’s actions,” Mr. Kovac said on stage. “I wanted to spend more time with my wife and our children. The Evolved Committee is more than a full-time job, it’s a calling. I’ve come to realize a shift in my personal priorities.”

  He was pretty high up at the UNEOA, wasn’t he? Sarina thought, surprised. Why did he resign so suddenly?

  “But you remain connected to the UNEOA through family ties,” the host prompted. “You are married to the sister of Overseer Vega, who acts as the Covenant’s highest authority and their middle-man to the Assembly.”

  Mr. Kovac nodded, grimacing. “You could say so, but I’m afraid my wife is more interested in animal welfare than international politics.”

  Sarina let go of Jasper’s hand and stole a glance at Tess, who was impatiently waiting beside the production studio door.

  “Mrs. Clarke, how do you feel about the upcoming Secretary General’s speech?” the host now
directed her smile at the large blonde woman. “In one of your recent blog posts, you described your dissatisfaction with the Covenant’s chain of command.”

  Ace raised a gloved hand and signaled in Tess’s direction. The masked woman flashed him a victory sign before picking up her duffel bag. She slipped through the open door leading to the small production studio, her cloak billowing behind her.

  So that’s it. We’re getting started. Sarina forced her attention back to the studio guests.

  “The command chains and decision-finding processes are too cloudy for the general public to grasp,” the blogger was saying, sounding pleased with herself. “Evolved powers affect all of us, and we have a right to transparency….”

  Ace settled a hand on Sunny’s shoulder to get his attention, gesturing to his masked lips. The boy looked up and gave a brief nod.

  The host didn’t get the chance to follow up with another question. An eerie distorted echo of Ace’s voice sounded from every corner of the studio, interrupting the proceedings. “Attention! The show’s over. We’re taking it from here,” it boomed.

  Sunny’s powers are something else. Sarina wished for the thousandth time she had the same kind of fine control over her own powers. Sound projection wasn’t as impressive as teleporting her parents from a mile away, but it sure was more useful right now.

  As a collective gasp went through the room, the host froze on her seat with her mouth hanging open because she was caught in mid-sentence. The cameramen and the stage manager exchanged confused glances before turning and searching for the voice’s source.

  “Keep calm and sit down where you are,” Ace’s voice commanded from four different directions. “Do as I say and no one will get hurt.”

  After no one moved for a few seconds, the stage manager spoke up in a thin quivering voice. “Whoever you are … we’ve got guards outside.”

  “Since I’m already inside,” Ace’s voice resonated, “I suggest you shut up and sit down.”

  One of the cameramen set down his shoulder cam before raising his hands in the air, bending his knees and slowly lowering himself to the floor. The stage manager raked his fingers through his hair and did the same, followed by the host, the guests, and most of the studio crew.