Unstoppable Arsenal

by Jeffery H. Haskell

  She interrupts with a wave of her hand. “Not a big deal, the big deal. He worked with us because he loved kids and he wanted to see the people afflicted with the curse of empathy and telepathy make it. Do you know what the suicide rate for empaths and telepaths are?”

  I shrug.

  “If we’re not found within a day of our abilities manifesting it is near eighty percent. No one makes it past a week without help. There’s no blocking it out, no stopping it. You drown in other people’s thoughts and emotions. They become yours. The only difference is, you have a hundred people inflicting their emotions on you all at once and you feel them all as if they were your own…”

  She turns away, her shoulders hunching. She’d hinted at the difficulty she’d faced when her powers emerged, but I hadn’t known, not really. Having no powers it feels uncomfortable trying to comfort her. How am I supposed to understand?

  “You’re not,” she says with a sigh, letting out a long breath she shakes herself and stands tall. “You can’t, not really. He could, though, Mr. Kana. This is why he wasn’t killed by a mugger or in some stupid crime. With a thought, he could order any person alive to kill themselves. No, he was murdered. The question is, why?”

  “I don’t know why, but the who… I would guess it’s the same people behind Cat-7. Epic, is the school still in operation?”

  Yes.

  “That’s something. In the meantime, what do I do about my parents? I can’t leave them in a coma and if they wake up they’re just going to run back to Cat-7. This isn’t how I imagined this going,” I tell her. Frustration churns inside of me and I want to hit something, scream, or cry… possibly all three.

  “I’m sorry Amelia, really,” she says with a hand on my shoulder.

  “Me too,” I sigh.

  “There’s a private hospital in Seattle, for victims of telepaths and empaths. I could make a call, maybe get them admitted. I don’t know if they can do anything for them, but it might help.”

  My heart leaps to seize just a little bit of hope.

  “Let’s do it.”

  Mind control. The database is pretty limited. In the last hundred years only a few dozen true telepaths emerged. Almost all of them F5’s. Most rely on sound. Their voices trigger something in a person’s mind forcing them, or persuading them, to do what the controller wants. A few can lock onto a person’s brain waves and alter them or read them.

  Ultimately, everything in our bodies is nothing more than a series of electrical impulses. If a power allows the manipulation of those impulses then it stands to reason said power must be able to read those impulses. This is all theoretical, but it is all I have. My lab is protected by a Faraday cage, this prevents any electronic spying or unwanted signals from escaping or entering my lab. Theoretically, it would also prevent any electromagnetic signal, including telepathy, to enter or exit.

  Which is why I’m spraying a clear coat of metallic ink on my suit. The effect will make it slightly glittery in the sun, which isn’t a bad thing, and it will add a Faraday cage to my external armor when powered. By itself it wouldn’t be one-hundred percent effective. However, with the ZPFM powering it and the rest of my ECM suite I should be damn near invulnerable to mind control. The good thing is, my faceplate isn’t really transparent I use micro-optic cables to simulate transparency. Which means my suit is fully coated in my new ink—

  “Hey, you didn’t show up for dinner.” Luke’s voice startles the crap out of me and I end up spraying the wall next to the helmet.

  Dinner? At two in the afternoon?

  I glance up at the TV and the timer in the bottom corner shows I’m off by about four hours.

  “Luke, I’m so sorry I—”

  He holds up his hand, “No, don’t. Amelia. Would you get mad at me if I lost track of time at the gym?”

  I shake my head, of course I wouldn’t. Especially with the way his muscles ripple. Even now, when he’s just wearing jeans, a white v-neck t-shirt and his cowboy hat… Luke has always done funny things to my insides. The way his smile touches his eyes when he sees me for the first time each day… that’s the best part of all.

  “So I won’t get upset with you for mad-sciencing your armor and forgetting our date. Instead,” he brings his hand out from behind him, “I shall bring dinner to you! Wallah!”

  Pizza from Bianco’s, oh how I love this man. I didn’t mean that. Or did? One more thing to think about.

  Thirty minutes and three slices later we’re on the couch watching Star Trek and cuddling. Possibly my favorite thing to do in the entire world. Cuddling, not Trek. Well, okay both.

  Sadly, I can’t quite focus on it. Kate suggested holding off telling anyone about my parents, for now. With a telepath on the loose as strong as it would take to kill her mentor, she’s worried just having the knowledge would endanger them. I can’t say she’s wrong. Still, after the fact, it feels like lying. Something I have always hated to do, even when necessary.

  “Amelia, what’s wrong?”

  “Are you sure you’re not the empath?”

  He chuckles. “It doesn’t take an empath to tell your upset. Is it me? Am I presuming too much by staying here to the wee hours every night?”

  Him? Oh no, he thinks I’m upset with him? Fix it, Amelia!

  “No, not at all, I love having you here. Who else would fetch sodas for me at two in the morning? It’s not that at all Luke,” I say, resting my head against his chest.

  “Is it Studio 50? I can always tell them you can’t come.”

  Crap, I completely forgot about that. I need to work out some kind of calendar for Epic. Then again, he probably didn’t remind me because he knows how much I don’t want to go.

  “No, I was thinking about my parents. How they… if they… if they were out there but for some reason couldn’t remember me or didn’t know me? Why else would they not find a way to let me know they’re okay. I mean, I built Arsenal to find them and they’re at least as smart as me, right? Between the two of them, they could have found a way.”

  He nods, “I’m sure they would, Amelia.” He runs his hand through my hair and for a second I let it all go. Were they mind-controlled from the moment the accident happened? That would explain a lot.

  I hate thinking about that day. On the flip side, I’ve thought of little else since the accident. The phone call. Mom called the accident in on the phone. I close my eyes and try to think back.

  She handed the phone to dad. They both spoke on it. Then… I don’t remember. Well, either they use voice control or brainwave control and I’m pretty sure I can defend against both. All the other feelings associated with that day leave me shivering. I’ve thought about it so many times it seems like it should get easier. It doesn’t. Luke pulls me tight, bringing the blanket covering my legs up to my chine.

  “Better?”

  “Yes, yes I am, thanks.”

  “How much better?” he asks with a hungry look in his eyes.

  “Why don’t you kiss me and find out?”

  The last time I was at the airport, the Psychotic Six tried to blow it up. This time is a little different. Apparently, as a registered superhero and with her powers properly identified, my Kate, with the BA in Marketing from Ohio State, can stand before a judge in her mask and testify to the condition of my parents. When asked how they came to be found, Kate towed the line between truth and lie.

  “A concerned citizen turned them over to us.”

  Us, being the Arizona State Militia. Aka The Diamondbacks. She also told the judge, based on the level of manipulation, it would be best to keep their identities sealed, lest the controller find them. The problem with evil mind control powers is the complete lack of an ability to stop them. Except for me of course.

  “I’m still not sure what we’re doing here, we should be at work. Why are we in Arizona and not Boston?” I hear my dad say. My heart cracks open and I want to scream. Instead, all I can do is stand here and play guard dog. It was the only way I was going to see them ag
ain.

  Kate has her hand on each of their shoulders in a move I know well. She’s using maximum effort to influence them. Unlike a telepath, who can outright force people to do things, Kate uses her God-given charm, knowledge of psychology, pheromones, and empathic touch in a combination few can resist.

  “Mr. Lockheart, I explained this. A telepath has altered your memories, altered your perceptions. I’m one of the good guys here. We’re taking you and your wife to a safe place where you can heal. It’s important you try to remember who you are. Focus on your love for each other and I promise you will find your way through this.”

  He nods, his hand is in Mom’s and they glance at each other with a soft smile I remember them sharing often. More than anything I want to climb out of this armor and hug both of them. My fist clenches and I try real hard to stay calm. It isn’t working.

  I’ve never wanted to murder anyone in my life, but if I find the person responsible for this…

  “Arsenal, they’re leaving,” Kate interrupts my felonious thoughts.

  I want to say something. Try to explain who I am again. Kate says there is no getting through to them; the memories are locked up tight behind a wall of their own creation.

  “Have a good flight,” I say instead.

  I watch as they walk through the terminal, hand-in-hand. I watch as they take one last look behind before exiting the building to board the private gulf stream I arranged. The plane takes off without incident and I track it as far as the airport's radar goes. Then I stand there some more. I don’t want to go. I found them. I found them. And they are gone again. It isn’t fair.

  Someone is going to pay.

  “Epic, status on Shai-Hulud?”

  He has successfully infiltrated their network. However, he is limited in communications. Their security is incredibly sophisticated. He can send one-kilobyte of data every twenty-four hours.

  “What happens if we go for broke and have him send what he can before they shut down the system?”

  There is no way of calculating the odds of retrieving useful information.

  “Penny for your thoughts, the non-murderous ones?” Kate asks. Crap, I’ve been standing here for twenty minutes staring north and she has stood silently next to me the whole time.

  “I want whoever did this, Domino. I want them dead,” I hold up my hand to forestall her, “and if I can’t have them dead, then I will see them rot in prison for the rest of their stinking life.”

  She nods, “I believe you… the question is, what’s next?”

  Mom and Dad are safe, at least. Maybe even on their way to a cure. That leaves two avenues. Kate’s old mentor, Mr. Kana, and Shai-Hulud.

  “I’m gonna fly, clear my head. I’ll meet you back at HQ and we’ll go from there.”

  She cocks her head sideways at me and I know what she’s thinking.

  “Honest, no taking off on my own. I need you.”

  “Okay. You know I’m here for you.” She places her hand on my shoulder and smiles. The air pops and she’s gone.

  I walk out of the airport and blast off. I’m a few thousand feet up and I let Epic take the wheel so I can think. He puts me into an orbit over Phoenix. As I see it I have a few problems.

  Who took my parents?

  Why?

  I have to assume that Category-7, the Cabal, and whoever let the Psychotic Six out of prison, are all the same people. The real question then is, what are they after? They had my parents slaving away for fourteen years building tech. From what I saw, my parents and a lot of other scientists. Did they kidnap them all? For a while I thought they wanted my armor, and maybe they did or do. Are they amassing a hi-tech arsenal?

  “Epic, run a search: missing scientists and cross-reference it with telepaths.”

  Time parameter?

  Good question… “Twenty-years.”

  Affirmative.

  Missing scientists, dead telepaths, and hi-tech weapons along with several attempts to steal my armor. Whoever is behind it is hoarding technology, scientists, and possibly killing of telepaths?

  Why?

  Search complete. In the last twenty years, fifteen scientists, including your parents, have disappeared without a trace. One day they existed, then they didn’t. If it wasn’t for the Internet I wouldn’t have even known about them. In that same time frame, three F4, and one F5 telepath have died or disappeared under suspicious circumstances.

  “It would be safe to assume then, whoever’s behind this can mind control. Maybe that is the reason for killing the other telepaths?”

  You have an incoming call from Luke.

  “On screen,” I say with a smile. Whatever dour thoughts I have vanish when I see his smiling mug.

  “Amelia, where are you?”

  “Flying over Phoenix, doing some thinking. Is there an alert?”

  “No, but Pierre, Tommy and I have to go. The Governor is off to DC for a special summit with the head of the DMHA. She wants us there to show the flag. I’m leaving Kate in charge, so try not to get in trouble while we're gone?”

  “No promises.” I can hear him sigh. “How long are you going to be gone?”

  “Just a couple of days. Hey, aren’t you supposed to be in LA at five?”

  Crap! Yes I am.

  “I’ve got plenty of time,” I say convincingly.

  You don’t, actually. We will have to exceed Mach Three to make it there before your scheduled interview.

  “Okay then, have fun. Don’t blow a hole in the studio or anything, and I’ll see you when I get back. And Amelia?”

  I smile at the thought of going nuclear on the stupid show, “Yes?”

  “I… I’ll miss you.”

  We’re here today with the hero of Las Vegas, Arsenal.”

  I already dislike this woman. The way she emphasized hero didn’t sound like a compliment. Luckily, no one can see my face. While I have to do this show as part of my ‘duties’ to the team, I don’t have to do it out of the armor. Instead, I’m on their couch in three-hundred pounds of titanium and tungsten. I’ve never really paid much attention to this person or the show itself. I had to have Epic give me the lowdown.

  Ranna ‘Make it Rain’ Meadows was a superhero with the invaluable power of making it rain in a localized area. Epic says she did a stint on the SoCal team, which according to Luke pretty much anyone can get on, powers or no. I imagine she could be handy in a forest fire, but not a lot else.

  She’s pretty, not Kate, but pretty. California has a way of homogenizing people into tanned skin and blonde hair, and she certainly fits the bill. Her shows tend to be light, funny, and occasionally she has dramatic reveals. A few well-known supers have admitted to crimes on her shows and a couple of gone public with their identity here. I had Epic play me the tapes and I thought it was odd, after all, if I were going to admit to a crime it wouldn’t be on national TV. Regardless, she has the highest rated talk show in the US for that very reason.

  “Tell us about yourself, Arsenal?” she asks with a vapid expression. I can’t really read her, it’s like she’s playing poker. The set would be intimidating if I weren’t hiding in my armor. Numerous LED lights illuminate every square inch. They have three cameras they use to catch the guests at different angles. Epic offered to hack them to make sure they caught my best side.

  “There’s nothing really to tell. I’ve always dreamed of being a superhero,” that’s an easy lie, who doesn’t? “When I didn’t manifest with powers I found a way to simulate them. Hence the suit.” I shrug. This is the cover lie Kate helped me come up with. Part lie, part truth. I’ve never dreamed of having super powers but that is for me to know.

  “And what was it like, the first time you flew?”

  I was expecting more of a focus on the incident in Vegas since that’s the reason I’m even doing the interview, but whatever.

  “Pretty cool. Flying is far and away the most awesome thing to do in the suit.” I tell her.

  Her eyes narrow and she cocks her head to
the side a little. It’s like she’s trying to see through my faceplate or something. Her hand plays with her coffee cup as a few seconds go by. Maybe she’s trying to read me? Fat chance. Not only can she not see my face, the suit obliterates body language not to mention Epic adjusts my voice to remove all traces of emotion.

  “Hmm, laconic I see. How long have you been with the Diamondbacks—”

  I open my mouth to answer but she keeps on going—

  “And is it true you’re romantically linked to Major Force?”

  Anger flushes through me, freezing my thoughts as my whole body goes stiff. How could she possibly know that?

  Careful, she is trying to manipulate you into divulging information. Let me process the—

  “Thanks, Epic, I got this,” I say to him. I take a breath to stifle my anger at her invasion and say, “Major Force is an exceptional team leader and a selfless human being. Any woman would be lucky to call him a boyfriend.” Thank goodness Epic flattens my voice; I couldn’t keep it from wavering. Of course it’s none of her business. None. But she is in it for the money, she does this for the ratings and the juicier the better, right?

  I can tell she’s not happy with my answer. Again, she cocks her head to the side… what is she trying to do?

  “Let’s try another line, I see you’ve added glitter to your suit? Is that to remind the public you are a woman? You are a woman, aren’t you? You’re not a man hiding in that suit?”

  Glitter? I didn’t add glitter—my spray Faraday shield! There must be a lot of EMR in the room for it to sparkle like that. It’s causing the electrons on the outside to flash, I guess that would look like glitter. I figured in the bright sun it would sparkle but this is something else.

  “Epic, run a full diagnostics, make sure we’re okay and bring the ECM suite to ‘active’.”

  Affirmative.

  “Well, I am a gir—woman, I do like shiny things,” I mock laugh. I can only imagine how awkward an emotionless laugh must sound.

  She takes a sip of her coffee while looking at me over the rim of the cup. Maybe I should take charge of this before I let her dictate the whole thing to me.