The hills of North Beach were being struck with considerable frequency by the meteor shower. A continuous rain of particulate stony material − from slick black dust to rocks the size of golf balls − struck the ground, sending up chunks of turf with little orange flashes. The material bounced audibly as it struck the Dragon Star's shield before rolling off and to the ground. It was like being caught in a hailstorm from hell. Conroy muttered a short prayer of thanks.
Sand Cat surveyed the area. "This is not like any meteor shower I have ever experienced."
Aurora nodded at her assessment, looking around himself, as the warrior stepped closer to Conroy. "Is this increased impact density a result of the Thuban power core?"
Conroy blew his cheeks out, then sucked in another lungful of air. It had a sharp, tangy quality from the smoke thrown up by the meteor rocks. "Tell the truth, I really don't know. There was no description of the meteor shower, or whether the power core would have any effect on it." He looked around. They were in a hollow between several natural mounds of the hill. On one side, the yellow glow of the city itself competed with the near-endless shooting stars above, although from where they were standing, San Ventura itself could not be seen. Jeannie turned from the group and walked up the rise for a better look across the harbor.
"This is unnatural." Aurora's expression was characteristically unreadable below the half-mask, his white eyes glowing like low-power flashlights as he looked around. He knelt by the edge of the Dragon Star's shield, and without pause pushed his hand through the energy barrier to pick up a golf ball-sized chunk of meteor that lay smoking in the grass.
Bluebell looked over Aurora's shoulder as he held the rock in both hands. Manipulating it between fingers and thumbs, he gave a twist and split the rock in half. Holding each piece at an angle to catch the light, he looked closely at the shiny, gray interior.
"Iron and nickel," Bluebell said. "Just an ordinary meteorite."
"But not an ordinary meteor shower." Jeannie's voice carried down to the group from her position at the top of the rise. Everyone looked up at her, but she was facing away, towards the city, hands on hips. "You need to come and take a look at this."
The group walked up the rise, the Dragon Star maintaining the protective shield against the hailstorm of rock. Conroy recognized the rise as one of the highest points on the North Beach hills. In front of them, the hilly terrain gradually sloped down to North Beach itself. The harbor lapped at the sand, reflecting the lights of the night in the gentle waves, and curved around and almost out of sight to the right, a mostly undeveloped area of parkland. Immediately across the bay, a mile or two distant, stood downtown San Ventura. At night, the city was spectacular, a dozen impressive skyscrapers lit by their own light and also reflecting the multitude of colors displayed by the glass shard of the Citadel of Wonders, the proud center of the city.
"Holy Mary, Mother of God." Conroy couldn't help himself. Linear opted for something more down-to-earth.
"Shitburger."
The city was lit, in the twinkling white and blue of the skyscrapers… and in the raging orange and yellow of fire. Impossibly high flames licked the bases of the tallest buildings, while the harbor shopping area and pedestrian plazas of the waterfront appeared to be completely consumed, the devastation reflected as an awful mirror image in the harbor waters.
No skyscraper was intact. Mighty constructs of glass and steel, they were no match for the meteor shower. The rock fall on North Beach was a gentle nothing compared with the debris that was hitting the city. Rocks the size of cars and buses roared down from the sky, whitehot and ablaze, tearing through the artificial construct of the city center as they headed to the ground. As the group watched, a rough spherical mass itself the size of a small building struck the side of the Prudential Assurance and Life Building, the second tallest structure in the city after the Citadel. The building went dark as the power cut, only to be lit half a second later by a colossal explosion. The giant meteor, unhindered and moving almost in slow-motion, continued downwards at a forty-five-degree angle, throwing up a second explosion and cloud of deep black and brown debris as it buried itself in the bedrock of the city. Even as the debris cloud from the impact continued to fan outward, the Prudential Building cried out with a metallic ache, buckled on one side, and telescoped downwards. A second explosion and dust cloud added to the first.
There was no let-up in the intensity of the storm. Before the night was out, San Ventura would be destroyed. Conroy looked around the group, awestruck at the terrible sight. All were too shocked to react; Linear and blondie had tears in their eyes.
Aurora flared, causing Conroy to flinch away. His cloak swept out and up, carrying on a blazing red aura. As he raised his arms, he lifted off the grass and hovered maybe a foot.
His eyes flashed white, and his famous sardonic smile twisted into a determined grimace.
"Seven Wonders, unite!"
Heeding their leader's call, the superheroes and their friends lifted into the air and shot across the bay to save their city.
The closer they flew to the city, the more dangerous and difficult it became. Dangerous for the unpowered or almost-powered humans, anyway − for Sam and Joe, and Conroy and Jeannie. Difficult for the superheroes, keeping their four vulnerable charges safe while trying to save the city.
Halfway across the bay, small meteorites sank into the harbor with the velocity of small-caliber bullets. Once again, Sam and Joe shared one support bubble, Conroy and Blackbird another. As they flew over the water Sam watched the other bubble. It was a bad idea, letting the two ex-accomplices stick together. She knew it. They'd reconcile somehow and plot an escape, or a takeover.
Looking up, the Dragon Star's shield was pitted with water-like ripples as it protected her and Joe from certain death.
Two-thirds of the way across the bay, Aurora came to a halt and drifted into a standing position to survey the city ahead. No further rocks of gigantic proportion had fallen, although meteorites as large as refrigerators still cascaded downwards, alight with magnesium brightness.
Linear buzzed next to his leader, shaking his head. "This isn't a meteor shower. Meteors of that size are like nuclear bombs. These, they're more like crashing airplanes. This is an artificial, controlled descent, designed to do what? Cause significant damage, incapacitate the city, keep us busy. Instill fear… but what for?"
Aurora nodded, arms folded. "You are correct. This is not a meteor shower, it is an attack on the city."
Bluebell gasped. "Space terrorism?"
"Perhaps."
"From where? The Thuban?"
Aurora paused, his own aura burning brighter than the light from the flaming city. "According to Paragon, the Thuban power core was to be hidden in the meteor storm. The mass of the meteors would shield any small object from detection as it made landfall. This..." He gestured to the guttering skeleton of San Ventura. "this is not a distraction. The Thuban would not have miscalculated to this extent. This is something else entirely. A third party."
Sand Cat brandished her fists before her, head down in a fighter's stance. "If this is how a new supervillain introduces himself to our city, he has made a mistake."
"Patience, Sand Cat," said Aurora. His voice was quiet as he stared at the hypnotic oranges and yellows of the fire of San Ventura. "We must locate the power core before anyone else. We should assume we have competition."
"Competition?" Bluebell's brow creased in confusion.
"There may be no connection, but somewhere in the city is the Thuban power core. Even if no enemy agent intends to take it, we must not be complacent. It is a device of terrible power. Retrieval must be our top priority, but we must save the city."
There, high above the harbor, Sam's jacket pocket buzzed. It gave her a fright, and it was a few seconds before she realized Joe was pulling at her shoulder. She turned and looked him in the eyes, her own wide in panic. He shook his head and gave a smile.
"Your phone is ringing. You've g
ot it on vibrate."
Sam felt relief drop over her, then a punch of excitement as she read the caller ID.
"Chief!"
The line was terrible. Sam took the phone from her ear and checked the display. Only one bar of signal. Figured. Most of the city masts would either be pulverized metal or out of power.
"Detective Millar. Nice of you to drop by. You can tell me later about where you and your superhero friends flew off to, but right now we need all hands on deck. Where are you?"
Sam hadn't quite heard over the roar of the city and the bad line and her own excitement. She began to speak, so quickly she tripped over her own tongue. She stopped, took a breath, and started again.
"We're here, over the harbor. We were on the moon. Sir, the city's getting a pasting. The heroes are going into the CBD to save as much as possible and protect what's left. Where are you?"
"North Beach. The interstate is out − I had to abandon the car at the bridge. Everyone's leaving the city, heading to the hills. I'm heading back on foot to help coordinate."
Sam turned and glanced up. She saw Blackbird waving from inside her bubble. Their eyes met, and Blackbird shook her head. Sam grimaced, trying to ignore the criminal, but Blackbird called out.
"Go in there and we're toast." She pointed over at the city center. "It's a fucking inferno. And if we don't burn to death, we'll be crushed by a meteor. Let the heroes deal with it."
Sam knew it, fucking knew it. When the going gets tough, the villains turn tail and only think of themselves.
"Sam? You still there? Can you get to me?"
Blackbird wouldn't give up.
"We're no good in there. The city needs these guys." Jeannie pointed at the superheroes floating nearby. They had all turned to face the support bubble, listening to the conversation. Blackbird continued.
"You, me, Geoff, Joe, we can help at the bridge, at North Beach. The meteor shower is focused on the city, not the suburbs. It's just like a hailstorm with a bit of kick out here."
Sam blanched, feeling the color drain from her face as though Blackbird had slapped her. She was right, and that was… confusing.
"Sam." Gillespie's voice came through a wave of static on the phone, still at Sam's ear. "Move it, pronto."
Sam paused. She and Blackbird were locked on each other's eyes for seconds until Blackbird cocked an eyebrow.
Sam brought the phone up to her mouth. "Stay put, I'm on my way. And I'm bringing help."
"An excellent course of action, Blackbird." Aurora was floating right behind Sam, his voice causing her to spin around. "The Dragon Star will accompany you. Her powerstaff will be of use in protecting the innocent," Aurora continued. He then flew up and back towards the other heroes. "Bluebell, Linear, Sand Cat, with me. We will secure the city and locate the power core. Move out."
The superheroes flew towards the city, accelerating so quickly that they drew a vapor trail over the harbor in the hot air. The Dragon Star watched them go, then turned to her wards. She held the powerstaff horizontal, bringing the two support bubbles together until they merged. Sam and Joe found themselves standing next to Conroy and Blackbird.
The Dragon Star looked up to the horizon.
"Let's go."
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
Abandoned by the superheroes once more, the moonbase was devoid of life, but was not empty.
There had been no time for a full shutdown, including a total security sweep and standardized mothballing and lockdown of systems. They'd left quickly. There would be time for that later, when the crisis was over.
Aurora's chair at the conference table was swiveled at an angle and the panels in front of it were dark. If there had been anyone to stand by the observation windows and look out across the plains of Taurus– Littrow, they'd see the dust had finally settled around the frozen corpse of Hephaestus, which lay undisturbed, abandoned but not forgotten. There would be time for burial and remembrance later.
Contrary to popular urban myth, human bodies don't explode in the vacuum of space. Sure, fluids phase into gas, water puffs to vapor in seconds, but the mechanical strength of human skin is more than enough to keep it all contained. Not that Hephaestus was strictly human. Bare skin tough enough for the god to plunge his arm to the elbow into the Nuclear Furnace would not be affected by the moon's lack of any tangible atmosphere. So his body lay still in the silent gray dirt, the Earthlight reflecting sharply from the mirror polish on his breastplate.
Aurora's control deck flickered, nothing more than a blip of power, like a half-plugged-in television set getting a signal for a second then powering off. As soon as it went off the OLED display embedded in the glass table top glowed blackly in the dark room.
And then another light. And another. Tiny, insignificant, unimportant. The hard drive spin of data retrieval, a standard, ordinary green flicker of network activity.
Snik snik.
Detecting a lack of activity within, the automatic systems of the moonbase went into an efficient power-save mode, gently dimming unused portions of the base and dragging the internal temperature down slightly, every infinitesimal decrease in ambient life support prolonging the lifespan of the solar power arrays by months.
As the air cooled and thinned, sound became indistinct, hard to get a direction on. But the corridors of the base were metallic and hard, and the sound that echoed down them equally harsh.
Snik snik.
The lights on Aurora's display went out. SMART's memory core sat on the table, connector lead still plugged in, the LED on the plug still a strong green.
Snik snik.
Down, levels down, ground level. Compared to the rest of the base, the workshop was hot. It had its own furnace – a smaller, safer version of the great atomic maelstrom back in the Citadel of Wonders – but even though the furnace shield had been undamaged in the superheroic battle with SMART, energy leaked from it, warming the huge space, filled with a chaotic mess of twisted componentry and solid metal debris. SMART's headless body lay where Aurora had put it, fused into the buckled wall of the building with his atomic punch. There was a breach here, a tiny tear from the fight. The atmospheric leak was small but significant; the life support in this section of the base was running a little over norm to compensate.
On an undamaged wall opposite SMART's resting place, a rack of servitor drones hung in various stages of deconstruction. In the building of his super robot, Hephaestus had constructed separate sections and tested each by attaching them in sequence to a basic robotic skeleton. While SMART had been built in the Citadel Forge, the servitors were useful tools and the blacksmith kept a stock in both bases. The ten servitors hung on a rack, a loose and heavy chain drawn across each. They were a mix of mismatched robot parts − a slim mannequin form with oversized prototype gun arm, one with augmented leg pistons, one with a gigantic test claw. Each was different, none were whole.
Snik snik.
One was more complete than the others.
In the annex control room, a panel flashed, ran an automated script, then shut down once the ping of command completion sounded to nobody.
Snik snik.
The servitor that was more complete than the others had a whole body, legs and head, and one thin arm. The other arm, from the shoulder to articulated five-digit hand, was a wide, white metal construction, a freshly repaired spare arm from the SMART robot itself. Compared to the rest of the robot the arm was ridiculous and huge, like something out of a badly drawn manga.
Snik snik.
A light sparked in the servitor's optics, and the black fingers of the SMART arm flexed again, snik snik.
Lunar dust kicked over the threshold as the door closed. High above, the view from observation windows in the conference room would show more reflections, more moving lights. Everything on the moon that wasn't rock or dust acted like a mirror at noon, lunar time. The thing that moved was mostly dark brown and dark blue, but the wide, lopsided robotic arm was white and dazzling in the vacuum.
The robot's feet crunched forward, making no sound but sending an uneven vibration up and down the frame as the servitor continually tried to rebalance the SMART arm. Gears spun and pistons pulled. More vibration, more unsound.
The lunar dust was disturbed again as Hephaestus' body was dragged by one foot, turned roughly in a semicircle, leaving a scour in the dirt that would remain until the end of the universe.
The black hand on the end of the white arm reached down and took hold of the blacksmith's hammer. The dead hands refused to surrender the weapon, but were no match for the superpowered mechanical systems, and the frozen flesh and bone snapped clean off.
Wielding the hammer with SMART's arm, the servitor limped back to the airlock.
CHAPTER FIFTY
Seven Wonders Page 33