by Stan Lee
Copyright © 2016 Disney Enterprises, Inc.
All rights reserved. Published by Disney Press, an imprint of Disney Book Group. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher. For information, address Disney Press, 1101 Flower Street, Glendale, California 91201.
ISBN 978-1-4847-1367-9
Visit disneybooks.com and disneyzodiac.com
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Prologue
Part One: The Storm
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Part Two: Ox in the Fold
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Part Three: Trap a Tiger
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Part Four: The Fall
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Epilogue One: Greenland
Epilogue Two: Location Unknown
THE AUSTRALIAN OUTBACK was a lifeless place, a wilderness of red sand and withered trees. Satellite cameras, staring down from orbit, picked up only the occasional flash of movement, a kangaroo or wallaby darting across the cracked earth.
In the midst of this desolation sat a strange, high-tech complex of buildings. The satellites couldn’t see it, and it wasn’t listed on any map—but it was there. From far above, it resembled a clutch of smooth white eggs half-buried in the sand, spread out in a wheel formation around the central dome.
In the very center of that dome—the largest one—a man named Malosi stood waiting. He was in his midtwenties, with a wide face, and a nervous look in his eyes. He wore a crisp, well-pressed uniform with the insignia of the Vanguard Company on its breast.
Why? he wondered. Why have I been summoned? Why me?
In his hands, Malosi held a strange object. It was about the size of a softball and almost perfectly spherical except for a few dents. Its surface was bronze, tarnished and discolored in spots.
Malosi looked around. He was alone in a giant featureless chamber. The ceiling rose up to a central point; the floor was uneven, rising up and down, as if it had once been landscaped. But the only thing covering it was a thin layer of gray sand.
Malosi shifted from one foot to another. He brushed lint off of his uniform. He shifted the bronze sphere from one hand to the other.
The sphere, he realized. It’s warm.
He looked up, startled, as a door in the far wall whirred open. He reached for his energy rifle, then realized he didn’t have it on him. No weapons were allowed in the main dome.
A large, muscular figure strode into the room, action ready in boots and his own unique uniform. Malosi drew in a sharp breath. The man was Maxwell, founder and leader of Vanguard.
“Sir,” Malosi said, snapping to attention.
Maxwell regarded him for a long moment with cold eyes. “It’s just Maxwell,” he said.
Malosi nodded quickly. “Maxwell.”
Maxwell stepped forward, crossing the sandy expanse between them. His stare remained focused on his visitor.
“Something wrong, Malosi?” he asked.
Maxwell had kept a very low profile for the previous year, spending most of his time there in his inner sanctum and in a secret lab. He’d left the running of Vanguard to his lieutenants, and he hadn’t pursued any new military contracts. That left Vanguard’s field agents—including Malosi—wondering what Maxwell’s plans were.
But Malosi couldn’t say that out loud.
“No, sir,” he said. “Maxwell, I mean.”
Maxwell stopped before Malosi. “You’ve been with us for four years. Is that right?”
“Yes.”
“And a year ago, you were up for…let’s call it a promotion.”
Malosi felt a stab of anger. He tried to control it, but he knew Maxwell had seen his mouth tighten.
“Sometimes,” Malosi said carefully, “things don’t work out.”
“And sometimes they do. It just takes a little longer.” Maxwell gestured at the bronze sphere. “I see you have the item I requested.”
“The Operator gave it to me personally.” Malosi hesitated. “I have to ask, Maxwell…”
“Yes?”
“Anyone could have brought this to you.” Malosi forced himself to look Maxwell in the eyes. “Why did you request me?”
A slight, amused smile crept onto Maxwell’s lips. “Are you bored, Malosi? Tired of guarding bushes and cacti? Wondering if I’ve lost my fire, my thirst for greatness, along with the Dragon power?”
Malosi took a step back. “I—I didn’t mean—”
“At ease.” Abruptly, Maxwell turned and started toward the edge of the room. “Walk with me.”
Malosi grimaced. He shot a glance at the bronze sphere in his hand, then followed. Maxwell led him past an area where the floor of the room rose up like a hill.
“Have you been here before, Malosi?”
“Once,” Malosi said, still cautious. “It looked very different.”
“This used to be my garden.” An edge crept into Maxwell’s voice. “A place of peace and contemplation, an oasis of streams, bridges, and waterfalls. But the Zodiac power ruined all that.”
“The Zodiac power,” Malosi repeated.
“Now this place must serve a new purpose. As must we all.” Maxwell whirled around, addressing Malosi directly. “But you know all about Project Zodiac, don’t you? You were fully briefed.”
“Last year,” Malosi agreed. “I was to be…” He trailed off, unable to speak the word. Malosi had spent the past year trying not to think about the power that had been promised to him and then snatched away.
“The Tiger,” Maxwell said. “You were chosen to be my Tiger.”
Malosi looked down, not wanting Maxwell to see the anger in his face.
“And since that time,” Maxwell continued, “you’ve observed our Zodiac agents in the field. Snake, Monkey, Rat…you know what they can do. You’ve seen, firsthand, the power that should have been yours.”
“I’ve been treated well by Vanguard,” Malosi said stiffly.
“That’s gratifying. But irrelevant.”
Maxwell seated himself on a slight rise. He stared straight ahead, for so long that Malosi began to think he’d forgotten his visitor’s presence.
Finally, Maxwell said: “I’ve made mistakes, Malosi.”
Malosi cleared his throat. “That’s, uh, that’s human.”
“Human.” Maxwell smiled. “Yes. I am human, but the Dragon power is not. It’s the greatest of the Zodiacs—orders of magnitude more potent than any of the others. It’s very…seductive.”
Malosi sat down next to his leader. “I’m, uh, sure you can handle it. Sir.”
A flicker of doubt crossed Maxwell’s face. The weight of the past year’s actions visibly weighed on him. His eyes, his face, his whole body looked tired.
“I’ve strayed from my path,” Maxwell continue
d. “When I held the Dragon in my hand, I lost perspective. I said and did things that I regret. And as a result, the power was lost to me.”
“That…” Malosi paused, thinking of the Tiger power. “That’s not an easy thing to live with.”
Malosi looked away, lost in his own dark thoughts. He wondered how he could miss something so much when he’d never had it at all.
Then he felt Maxwell’s eyes on him. When he looked up, Maxwell was staring at him with a frightening intensity.
“There is rage within you,” Maxwell hissed. “The rage of the forgotten, the lost. But rage at whom?”
Malosi said nothing.
“At your father? Who walked out on you?”
Malosi shook his head. “No.”
“No,” Maxwell agreed. “We have ways of finding ourselves…new fathers.”
Maxwell didn’t look away. Malosi felt exposed, as if all his secrets were being revealed, one by one, under Maxwell’s piercing gaze.
Then Maxwell reached into his pocket and pulled out a tattered photo. It showed a lean, athletic boy of about fourteen, with a shock of dark hair and a cocky expression on his face. The raging form of the Tiger rose up above him, roaring into the wind.
“Steven Lee,” Maxwell continued.
“Steven Lee,” Malosi repeated.
He took the photo in his hand. It looked as if it had been crumpled up, thrown away, and then massaged flat again.
“This boy stole what is rightfully yours,” Maxwell said.
“But…”
“But what?”
“No. My chance—it passed me by.” Malosi straightened his uniform. “Like I said, sometimes things don’t work out.”
“Malosi.” Maxwell’s voice turned dark, hard. “I am about to gain my second chance. The Zodiac powers will be mine—ours. All of them, this time.”
“All of them.” Malosi’s eyes went wide. “Including the Tiger?”
“Oh, yes.”
Malosi nodded slowly. He felt hope burning inside him, a fire he thought had been extinguished long before.
“Sir,” he said, “what can I do?”
“You can start by giving me that.”
Maxwell gestured at the bronze artifact in Malosi’s hands. Malosi looked down in surprise. He’d almost forgotten about it.
“What is it?” he asked.
“It’s called a jiānyù.”
Malosi held out the sphere—the jiānyù—but only partway. Something, some instinct, made him stop. He felt that he was about to cross a line, to fall into a pit he could never escape.
“Give it to me,” Maxwell repeated, “and I promise you, the second chance begins now. For both of us.”
Malosi studied the sphere. It seemed to grow even warmer, almost hot to the touch.
Then Malosi looked back down at the photo. He’d seen videos of Steven Lee in action, leaping and striking gracefully, the fierce Zodiac avatar blazing above his young figure. That should be mine, Malosi thought. It’s supposed to be mine.
It will be mine.
He handed the sphere to Maxwell.
Maxwell held the jiānyù up to the light, gazing intensely at it. Malosi had the strange impression that Maxwell was seeing through the sphere, far beyond it. To the cosmos above, to the ley lines beneath the Earth. To the ancient forces that had birthed the power of the Zodiac.
“The rise of the Tiger,” Maxwell whispered, “shall herald the Dragon’s return.”
Then he shook his head and turned to Malosi. He placed a fatherly arm around Malosi’s shoulders and stared, fiercely, into the younger man’s eyes.
“Are you with me?” he asked.
Malosi nodded. “I am.”
Maxwell smiled, an unusually warm smile for him. Malosi felt a sudden unfamiliar surge of pride.
“Then I have already won,” Maxwell said.
STEVEN LEE was twenty meters up in the air, descending slowly by parachute, when the truth of his situation struck him like a hammer to the head.
I just jumped out of a plane, he thought.
Steven had done a lot of bizarre things over the previous year. He’d traveled to Hong Kong, Greenland, and to strange caverns underneath China; he’d battled armed soldiers and superpowered agents, all over the world. Along the way, he’d acquired the incredible power of the Tiger.
But I’ve never jumped out of a plane before!
He reached down with trembling fingers and double-checked the buckle across his waist. Below, his destination lay spread out across a clearing in the desert: a multinational school consisting of several low buildings. A rounded water tower rose up from the roof of one building.
Steven peered down. He couldn’t see Kim, his teammate, from this height. But he knew she was already on the ground.
A fierce wind rose up, blowing sand into Steven’s face. He coughed and turned to look behind him. In the distance, a raging sandstorm was rolling its way across the desert sand. It would be here in minutes.
And then, he thought, it’ll reach Dubai. A city of two million people.
A sharp crack caught Steven’s attention, rising above the roar of the wind. He looked down just in time to see the water tower break loose from its mountings on the roof of the school. In an instant, he forgot about skydiving into a new country and forgot about looking for his teammates. His total focus became the events in front of him, and the tower falling towards the school.
Steven reached across his chest and unsnapped two safety buckles. As the chute flew free, fluttering up into the air, he twisted his body and dove toward the ground.
The energy-shape of the Tiger flared all around him. Wind roared past, sweeping back his hair and spitting moisture into his eyes. The storm was growing stronger.
The water tower rolled along the roof, moving toward the edge. The school was a square, wide building, only two stories high. On the ground below, a teacher in a hijab was hustling a group of kids out of the building onto the playground.
The water tower was about to fall right on top of them.
Steven arched in midair, kicking out to strike the water tower on its side. It clanged loudly and rolled back into the middle of the roof. But as he bounced up and away, he saw it start to roll toward the edge again.
Inside him, the Tiger roared in frustration.
Steven reached out and grabbed a flagpole protruding from the side of the building, then used it to swing his body around. He was barely thinking; the Tiger operated mostly on instinct.
Swinging to the ground from the flagpole, he saw the last few children straggling out of the schoolhouse. Steven grabbed up the three remaining kids in both arms and tossed them onto the playground, aiming toward a grassy area. They landed in a heap, winded but unhurt.
Steven touched down, stumbled, and looked up to see the huge bulk of the detached water tower plummeting straight toward him.
A blur of motion caught his eye. He turned to see Kim running his way. As she leaped up into the air, an energy-construct in the shape of a bounding rabbit blazed into existence around her. Steven felt her arms close around him, heard a soft poof—
—and then they tumbled to the ground together. When Steven looked up, dazed, the first thing he saw was the water tower crash to the pavement, exploding in a fury of water and plastic.
The second thing he noticed, as a few drops of water splashed his face, was that he was at least eight meters away from the school. The water tower had missed him.
Kim tried to climb to her feet, but stumbled. Steven reached out to help her.
“Thanks,” she said. “Teleporting with a passenger…it still takes a lot out of me.”
Steven shook his head. He’d seen Kim use her power a hundred times, but he still wasn’t used to it.
“Thank you,” he replied. “You saved my butt.”
She smiled that shy smile of hers. As always, it made Steven smile back.
The teacher approached, holding a girl’s hand. The last of the children followed, staring at th
e shattered remains of the water tower. They were all between five and seven years old.
“Thank you,” the teacher said. “You arrived just in time.” Then she paused, frowning. “You look very young. Are you from the government?”
“Sort of,” Kim said. “They called us for help.”
Steven looked around. They were in the middle of the playground, near a basketball hoop with no net. On the far side of the yard, an old bus stood by a grove of brightly colored trees. Some of the kids were starting to climb aboard.
“We’re here to help you evacuate,” Steven said. “What’s your plan?”
The teacher looked at him for a moment, unsure. A huge wind blew up, almost knocking them off their feet. Kim reached out a hand to help the woman, who kept a tight grip on the little girl’s hand.
Steven looked up. The sky was dark, almost black, a roiling mass of rain and sand. It looked like a blanket of smoke, reaching all the way down to the horizon. Steven squinted and tried to make out the Zodiac stealth plane, which he knew was hovering overhead. But it was lost in the thick cloud cover.
The woman gestured toward the bus. Steven nodded, and he and Kim followed her.
“The school buildings are old,” the teacher explained. “They’re not safe during a storm, so we’re supposed to take the kids to that old factory. It’s got a shelter in the basement.”
She pointed. Over the trees, past a long line of open fields, Steven could see the factory building in the distance. It was at least a kilometer away.
As they approached the bus, a young boy stuck his head out the window. “Miss Maya!” the boy shouted. “The driver can’t get the bus to start!”
Kim turned to Steven. “Don’t suppose you know how to fix a bus?” she asked.
He shook his head.
Sweat broke out on Steven’s brow. The air was incredibly thick now, full of moisture. The wind was a constant barrage.
The boy climbed out of the bus. The teacher moved to help him, and five more kids followed, stepping down to the ground. Then another five.
Steven turned to Kim and looked her grimly in the eye.
“Fourteen kids, plus Miss Maya,” he said. “We’ll never make it on foot. The storm’s too close.”
Kim knew instantly what he was thinking. Her eyes grew wide with worry.