“If they ever come knocking, we likely have bigger problems,” I said. “If they know Olef can find us, and they wanted to capture us, then they could have just come with him. But they didn’t. Which means one of two things—they fear us or they respect us.”
Slugger loosed a low whistle and leaned back in his chair. “Either way, if we don’t open that, they’ll be acting next. Lot better to have their letter here than their faces.”
“Fine, go on!” Lucio said, throwing his hands up in the air. “But I warned you! If there’s something I’ve learned from my power, it’s that a bit of extra information can be worse than missing some.”
“I think we’ll risk it,” I said, running my finger under the sealed edge and pulling out the paper underneath. The message was simple, far shorter than I expected.
We have information you may want to know.
3 AM Tonight.
Same location as last time.
“See! See right there!” shouted Lucio, running his hands through his hair. “Just what I said, now we’ll just have to find out what that is, won’t we? The sequel to Escape to Danger Island is surely going to be pushed back now!”
“The sequel?” I scoffed. “You do remember that your two lead stars are thousands of miles away, right?”
“But you said we’d be back on the first of the month. That’s almost here and it’s the perfect time for a shoot!”
“Hey, if you can get them to agree to it, that’s up to you,” I answered, tapping my finger against the letter. “Until then, we should figure out what this is about.”
“Probably ‘Hands up! You’re under arrest!’,” said Lucio. “Then bam! We’re back in the rehabilitation facility. Maybe this time, we’ll even get to be Uppers.”
Slugger gave Lucio a long look up and down before speaking. “I’d be doubting that one. Like SC said, if they’re going to arrest us, they’ll come knocking. By sendin the letter, they risked us runnin off.”
“And what do you think they have to say?” I asked him, and he shrugged.
“Could be anything. Maybe they want to tell us Lacit is gone, and we should act right surprised. Or maybe they found something out about us; could be for our own protection.”
“Seems odd, though, to ask at three in the morning,” I countered. “They might want to keep this secret. Who knows, maybe they caught Blake and got him to talk.”
“Wouldn’t trust a word of that,” said Lucio. “His thoughts are a bigger mess than my room.”
“Sounds dangerous, then.” I laughed, then spoke more quietly as I heard my mother coming down the subway tunnel. “So, leaving here at two AM. Are we in?”
Slugger nodded, and Lucio frowned, then gave a slower nod.
“You’re lucky,” he said, tapping his forehead before rushing to discover what foods my mother had brought back from the store. “Lucky I don’t just give you a memory of us going. I bet I could make it even more interesting than what they have to say.”
We shared knowing glances at dinner, racing through our plates of spaghetti and meatballs after my mother had us complete our homework. She raised an eyebrow when Lucio completed his without complaint, but otherwise, the night passed uneventfully. Too uneventful, which my mother had learned to grow suspicious of, so I sparked a small fight between Lucio and Slugger for the last ice cream bar in the fridge. Lucio had written his name on it, but I ate Slugger’s in secret, then planted the wrapper on the floor of Lucio’s room.
Bed came quickly after that, and after waking at two, we darted through the streets, keeping to the shadows and avoiding confrontation. With Lucio’s help, anyone in our way suddenly remembered that they had forgotten to turn off the burner at home, or that their parking expired in only a few minutes. And with Slugger’s aid, the lightweight gratings that sometimes stretched over long periods of street grew heavy, and instead of the high-pitched clanging as we walked over, they only released quiet and low thuds.
We arrived at Olef’s secondary apartment, the door already unlocked, and Olef’s snores quite apparent through the wall. Seated at the table was Roland, the police chief who had helped us fight Siri in the subway tunnels, then given us the tip-off about Lacit. He occupied the same chair as before, dressed in civilian clothes, the jeans and dark t-shirt almost making him near unrecognizable. In his right hand, he clutched a round object, waiting for us to shut the door before beginning. Then, as the lock clicked, Roland snapped, slamming down a roll of film on the table and making us jump backwards as he hissed, “Is this some kind of joke?”
Chapter 4
“You mean a masterpiece?” asked Lucio, snatching up the film and cradling it to his chest. Under his arm, I could just see Danger Island, but his sleeve covered the “D,” leaving only Anger Island, a title that seemed all too fitting for our current interaction.
“You’re lucky as all hell that you didn’t win that contest,” fumed Roland, shaking his head. “You do realize that the winner was optioned to Hollywood? You had actual video evidence of you fighting the acting chief of police that almost went nationwide! Forget about the law; you don’t think that Lacit’s old buddies would have come a-knocking? You’ve been a thorn in their side, but they never knew who you were, where you were. They didn’t know you had anything to do with Lacit’s disappearance!”
“Oi, word will get back soon enough,” Slugger interjected. “We recognized people there. They knew us. And they’ve been runnin their merry little mouths all about it, I would bet.”
“Rumors and reports are one thing,” responded Roland, still glaring at the roll of film. “Rubbing it in their faces is another entirely. If there’s one thing the bosses hate more than losing, it’s other people knowing they lost. Damaging their pride is far worse than eradicating their armies. They can’t forgive that. They will root you out for it.”
“Right, because if they could root us out, then they wouldn’t have done that already,” Lucio drawled, and an image flashed through my mind, that of a mole buried deep under a boulder while foxes prowled around its edge. And by the look on Roland’s and Darian’s faces, I wasn’t the only one presented with that memory.
“None of your mind games,” snapped Roland, shaking his head. “I respect your space, now you respect mine.”
“Just go ahead and drop some images in mine then, why don’t ya?” Lucio said, waving a dismissive hand. “Or did I forget, are you a Memwriter as well? Except I don’t forget memories; I make them.”
You make trouble. Now sit and listen.
The words popped into my thoughts unbidden, so loud that I thought Roland had spoken—but his lips had not moved, and his eyes stared at us, intense. They left a slight ringing around the inside of my skull as they faded, and I shivered—it felt as if someone’s fingers had grazed against the top of my head, but on the inside, there was a tickling feeling, almost as if I had to sneeze.
“The hell was that?” I asked, leaning away from the table.
“That was my power.” Roland folded his arms over his chest. “But we’re civil here, so we don’t need to use powers in discussion. Or if you prefer, we can have this all in our heads—but like I said, I respect your thoughts. And you should do the same.”
“You had a power?” Lucio asked, his mouth agape. “Where the hell was that when we were fighting Siri?”
“Lucio, relax, he was using it,” I said, the pieces falling together in my mind. The way that the officers had naturally aligned in a V shape when fighting in the tunnel. How they moved in such cohesion, like the arms of an octopus, directed in the center by Roland. I recalled an entry for the directory, one that I had read nearly a year before. “You’re a Director, aren’t you? You can broadcast your thoughts into the minds of others.”
“And perceive their senses, should they be willing. A more than useful ability as a police chief when conducting teams. And likely the reason I have the job.”
“I thought all Directors were sports team coaches?” said Lucio. “You could make w
ay more doing that.”
“Not everything is about money, son,” said Roland. “There are other motivations. And besides, you could consider the force my team. But back to business—the only reason you haven’t been rooted out is because you’re far down their list. Those at the top likely haven’t even heard your names. Even Lacit left the city rather than hunt for you, and you’d managed to make his blood boil beforehand. If they wanted you gone bad enough, you’d be gone. And don’t let your pride convince you otherwise. You’re nothing more than pawns in this game. As am I.”
“You seem to know a lot about them, don’t you?” I asked, my voice suspicious.
“Hang out around power long enough and you’ll know the type. But you forget, I worked along Lacit. I investigated Siri. You hear things when you listen long enough. We know something is up, but we don’t know enough to fight it. And when we do, our hands are tied in one way or another from the bureaucracy. Rules that seem all too convenient to their cause.”
“If you consider yourself an ally, then you would have acted out long ago,” I said, shaking my head in disapproval, “instead of simply standing by.”
“Not all of us have a death wish,” Roland answered, the muscle in his jaw tightening. “But even if I did, do you think I’d be more useful six feet under after having laid waste to one of their plans? Or here, where I watch and listen, and wait for the right chance to strike? It’s about who wins in the end, not the moment. But about allies, I’ve never called you that.”
“Are you saying we aren’t?” I asked, tensing suddenly and feeling Lucio and Slugger mirror me.
“I’m saying that perhaps it’s time we should be. Because the one thing we do know right now is their next move. And we need you to stop it.”
Chapter 5
“You’re thinking of helping them? They’re who we should be fighting!” said Lucio, shouting towards the ceiling. “When have the cops ever helped us?”
We stood inside the contraption that Peregrine had constructed in the subway, the teleportation machine, as we waited for Arial to arrive. I squinted, looking out through one of the eight doors that surrounded us, one that was just as dark as the tunnels. Through it, I could just barely see train tracks running perpendicular through a bend in the corridor, and once a day, a train would come screeching down it, the sound entering through to our side of the door. But these sounds were typical down in the subway, and from the distance of our bedrooms, were indistinguishable from the natural others.
Since Lola was not around to assist, it had taken me some time to manipulate the portal doors of Peregrine’s contraption. With her help, we had been able to connect one of the doors to the Amazon rainforest thousands of miles away. But on my own, I’d managed to connect another door to a section of the subway track nearest to Arial’s house. It was adjacent to a room filled with electrical transformers and cabling, and to my best guess, Peregrine had intended it for the production of Electrosparks. But most important was a wire that ran up the wall towards ground level, one that the rats had chewed through long before—and that we discovered lit the rusted over lights that provided under glow to the subway entrance.
We’d patched the wire with a length of thin copper pipe, the piece suspended in midair and showering small blue sparks whenever we connected it.
“Eh, not good, but good enough,” Slugger had announced when we connected it the first time, after we ran outside to check if it was working. Though we always flipped a coin to determine who had to connect it and risk the inevitable electrical shock as copper met copper, the contraption served its purpose.
Whenever the lights were on, which Arial could just barely see in the distance from her window, it meant we needed to meet that night. Earlier, Lucio had lost the toss and connected the pipe, escaping with only a mild burn, so Arial should already be on her way. She’d remember that today was the first time we’d be opening the portal to the Amazon since we had left Darian behind, the first time we’d see him in a month and hear about the recovery of the Worldwalkers. Together, he and Lola had stayed behind to ensure her early reign as queen was successful, that the tribe could rebuild from Lacit’s assault, and, well, some more personal reasons.
As I stared through the portal, I saw Arial’s shape materialize from the tracks. Effortlessly, she glided forwards, and no matter how many times that I had seen her power, I was always astounded by the grace of the motion. When she was in the air, it seemed like nothing could hold her—not gravity, not the rules of everyday life, not reality itself. It was as if she was truly free.
When her face came into focus, I felt my mouth go dry again and my heart rate quicken. Only three days had passed since I had seen her last, but it always felt like I was meeting a stranger again, as if she was crossing some thick divide, and the words evaporated from my mind before they could reach my mouth.
“So,” she said, crossing through the portal and alighting in front of me, her brunette hair swaying slightly on the impact to momentarily cover one eye. “Are we ready?”
“Ready?” I asked, blinking.
“To see Darian? Of course!” she said, planting a kiss on my cheek as she strode past me, and I flushed. “Doesn’t look like the portal is open yet?”
“I don’t like leaving it there—without me controlling the elevation. If someone slips through, it could be trouble,” I said, turning to follow her. “But first, there’s something we need to talk about. There’s been a development.”
“More than a development!” Lucio interrupted, taking Arial by the shoulders with both hands. “The police found us and they’re trying to make us cops!”
“Have you been hiding something from me again?” Arial demanded, stopping short, her tone accusatory.
“Not quite,” I said as Arial’s eyes widened. “But not far off either. We need to fill you in, and we may need Lola’s help on this one. Having someone who can cross through walls would be a huge advantage for this situation. But first, let’s get this portal working so I can rest before sending us through.”
I closed my eyes and reached out to the machine surrounding us. From where we were standing, it simply looked like eight television screens, one showing where Arial had just emerged, the other seven showing static. Back when Peregrine had built it, it had been intended to emulate rare environments, greatly raising the chance that anyone born within was born with desirable powers and giving him the ability to raise an army of rare Specials.
Behind the doors, I could sense the infrastructure he had left behind, a mass of twisting darkness that extended away in every direction, splitting like tree branches as they neared their targets. Each of them was a node, a tunnel through space he had created using his Teleportation powers, and now survived after his death. Somehow, Peregrine had found a way to make the contraption permanent —something that Lola, our prior resident book nerd, had declared a rarity if not completely lost knowledge. How he had discovered that possibility remained a mystery to us, and I shuddered to think of the other contraptions that might be in progress if Siri also knew the secret.
With Lola’s help, we’d mapped out a portion of Peregrine’s nodes, and over the past month, I had returned, mapping even more as I grew more and more accustomed to the machine. In the past, simply working with the ripped open space made nausea wash over me, but now I barely felt any queasiness as I manipulated the strands of twisted reality, searching for the particular one that led to the Amazon. Every time I returned, the machine grew more and more familiar, and now it felt as if I was operating a switchboard, until with a snap, I made the connection and one of the doorways in front of me flickered to life, revealing the cliffs.
“And now,” I said, relaxing my power and stretching, surprised at how easy it had been to make the connection. “It’s time to fill you in on Roland.”
Chapter 6
“You want us to become cops?” asked Lucio, back in Olef’s arranged meeting room as Roland finished his request. “Are you crazy?”
&nb
sp; Roland sighed, swallowing his frustration before he answered. “No, not cops. It’s just for this one assignment. If anything, consider yourself volunteers.”
“Sounds more like bodyguard work to me, eh?” said Slugger. “You’re just needin some good ol thugs.”
“Sure, bodyguard work,” conceded Roland as he tapped the name he had written on a sheet in front of us. Amelia Cleft, it read, and moments before, he had declared that they believed she was under high risk of danger. The name was new to me, and by the perplexed looks on Slugger’s and Lucio’s faces, I could tell that they didn’t recognize her either.
“So you think she’s going to get taken out?” I asked, folding the paper and putting it into my pocket. “By whom? And why?”
“Killed? No, we don’t think she’ll be killed. We’re suspecting a kidnapping, by the same people who run those damn Rehabilitation facilities. They’re slimy, so there’s no way we’ll be able to point it back to them, but I have my suspicions. Deep suspicions.” Roland paused, taking a sip from a cardboard cup of coffee he had resting on the floor, and not for the first time, I was struck by the bags that seemed to be perpetually growing under his eyes. His hair had started to thin as well, and additional weight seemed to be sticking to his frame, each of these a trend that seemed to continue every time we met.
“But as for who she is,” Roland continued, draining his coffee. “She’s a nobody. Her father owns a small pizzeria on the north end of the city. They conduct good business, but nothing to sneeze at. They stay in the third floor of an apartment a few blocks away, and she has three sisters. But of them, she’s the only one that’s a Special, though she’s not high-powered and just barely registers as average.”
“So you think they’re trying to steal her for her power,” I said, nodding and scratching my chin. “Certainly fits the mold of what they’re about. Far as I have seen, they only go after the ones that can cause havoc. What can she do?”
Titan Song Page 2