Dreams of the Golden Age

by Carrie Vaughn

  The lead SWAT guy pushed past the teens to make his way to the door, drew a pistol to fire a shot at the doorknob, when Paulson yelled, “Do not fire that gun in a roomful of propane, Mitchell!”

  The guy winced, chagrined, and put his gun away.

  Teia said, “Sam, maybe you can blast the door—”

  “My lasers have the same problem as the gun!” he said, frustrated. Teia let out a string of curses.

  With unnatural calm, Arthur reached up to put a hand on Analise’s shoulder. The woman flinched away; her eyes were round with terror.

  “Analise, there are water pipes in the walls, yes? Connected to the sprinkler system. Are they active, and can you reach them?”

  “I should have known,” she murmured. “I thought, we’re in a fucking building downtown, two miles away from the harbor, Typhoon wouldn’t be any damn use here anyway. But no.”

  Arthur repeated, “Analise—”

  The woman squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head in fierce denial, clinging to the railing with both hands.

  The steel rail was starting to get hot.

  “Hang on!” Teia shouted. “I got this!” She gripped the rail, her arms braced, her whole body tensed with effort. A trail of leafy frost edged away from her hands, then shot out in speeding, winding patterns of ice around the railing, crawling both up and down. The air grew cold, then it grew colder. The frost reached Anna’s hands, but she didn’t dare let go. Her breath fogged, and the cold stung her face.

  Teia reached up, blasting a sheet of frozen air particles up the center of the stairwell, past the upper landings, toward the oncoming wall of fire. The approaching jets of flame sputtered, and for a moment, Lady Snow had the advantage, sending wave after wave of cold toward the fires, which fought to stay lit, to continue progressing downward like some burning avalanche.

  A drizzle began falling down the stairwell, a mist of droplets as Lady Snow’s cold met the fire, vaporized, and became rain. The next set of jets lit, and the droplets turned to fog, more frost dripped off the railings, and the heat won out.

  Drenched with water, Teia shouted out in frustration. The air was steaming.

  Arthur said, commanding, “Analise. Typhoon. You must do this.”

  “I can’t!”

  “Then we burn.”

  Anna had never heard her father sound so … otherworldly. Cruel, that was it. She had to keep reminding herself, this was Dr. Mentis now. The hero thing, it wasn’t just a costume you put on and took off. This was what people meant when they called it a persona.

  Growling through set teeth, Analise turned away and braced against the railing, looking eerily like her daughter when she did. Her back tensed, her shoulders bowed and trembled, as if a great weight settled onto them.

  Anna had crept closer to Arthur, who somehow found her hand and gripped it.

  The rain began to fall in earnest. What had been a mist turned to drops, then sheets.

  The sprinkler system must have been shut down—not surprising, considering the booby trap that had been put in place. But the pipes behind the walls still held water, and sprinkler heads still projected into the stairwell, giving the building a semblance of normality.

  Analise pushed off from the railing to lean against the opposite wall, clawed her fingers as if she would break through the drywall with her bare hands, tipped back her head, unmindful of the water falling on her.

  Suddenly, the sprinkler heads burst, and jets of water sprayed out to compete with the blasts of fire. The stairwell filled with falling water. Not just rain, but a powerful waterfall. Water ran in a river down the sloping ramp. The fires sputtered, struggling to keep the gas jets lit, and finally the flames died.

  Analise fell, and Arthur caught her, leaning her against the wall and murmuring in a comforting tone as the sprinklers and pipes ran dry and the rain stopped.

  “I thought it was gone,” she said, her eyes shut and head bowed.

  “No, you only put it away for a time,” Mentis said.

  He might have used his powers on her, gone into her mind and tweaked whatever mental dam was keeping her from reaching her abilities. Anna thought that was possible—until she remembered that his powers were blocked. If she had stopped using her power because she was afraid it had killed someone, the only thing that could bring it back was saving someone. Saving all of them.

  From a flight above, Teia and Lew stared down, amazed. Maybe a little terrified.

  Analise held her hand up. Water dripped, pooled in her cupped palm. Brow furrowed, she studied it a moment. The surface of the tiny pool trembled, and the vibrations increased until the water contracted, collected together into a spherical drop, which rose an inch from her hand before splashing back against her skin, scattering.

  Sighing, she closed her eyes. Rubbed water from her face, not that it did any good. They were all soaked and dripping. But at least they hadn’t cooked. When Analise looked up, Teia was sliding down, skating on the wet stairs while balancing against the railing, and pulled up short before crashing into her mother’s arms.

  “Why didn’t you tell us?” Teia muttered into her mother’s shoulder.

  “Same reason you didn’t tell me, baby,” Analise said back. “I didn’t even tell Dad.” They hugged, and Lew slipped down to join them, and they might have stayed like that all day.

  Arthur absently reached out to rest a hand on Anna’s shoulder. She didn’t know what to say.

  “We’ll find her,” Arthur said. Which was exactly what she’d been thinking.

  “I thought you said your powers were blocked.”

  “And somehow, I knew just what you were thinking anyway.”

  “Sorry to interrupt. But we have to keep moving,” Paulson said, nodding up the stairs.

  They hauled themselves up the slope, a task made more difficult by the water running down the concrete. But they made good time, clinging to the railings, because they had no desire to see what the next booby trap involved.

  Anna didn’t let herself think for a minute that she couldn’t do this. She didn’t have a choice, and that was that.

  “I’m perversely encouraged,” Arthur said at one point. “This wouldn’t be so difficult if we weren’t close.”

  “We’re going to get up there and be totally exhausted and no good for a fight,” Paulson muttered.

  “Plenty of time to worry about that when we get there,” the telepath replied.

  “Holy crap, what happened?” Teddy said, his bodiless words echoing ahead of him before he flashed to visibility and pitched up against the railing on the thirtieth floor. He stared down at the dripping walls and the sopping wet mess of them.

  “Geez, kid, you have got to stop doing that,” Paulson said, holstering the gun he’d drawn from his belt.

  “Sorry,” Teddy said. “But what happened?”

  They all looked at Analise, who shook her head. “I’m a really bad plumber, it turns out.”

  Teddy looked blank, but Teia giggled.

  “Ghost, you’ve been to the thirtieth floor? What did you find?” Mentis ordered.

  Wide-eyed, he nodded quickly. “There’s five of ’em. The two who tried to snatch Anna are guarding the doorway. Two more guys in skin suits are watching Ms. West. And a guy in a suit, he looks like he’s in charge. Ms. West is there, she’s tied to a chair.”

  “You’ve seen her, she’s okay?” Anna gasped. He’d seen Mom, she was okay, she was close, and they would find her. These last few minutes of waiting before they could rescue her were going to be impossible.

  Teddy nodded. “She looks really pissed off.” That sounded like Mom.

  Arthur said, “What’s she bound with, cuffs or straps?”

  “Straps. Knots, I think.”

  “Right. I need you to go back and loosen them—don’t untie them entirely, we don’t want to show our hand. But enough so she can slip out when the time is right. Then get out of the way and wait for us.”

  “Got it,” he said, entirely too e
agerly. Must be nice, being able to turn invisible to avoid danger.

  “Can you unlock the door for us?” Sam said.

  “No, it’s got a code lock on it or something.”

  “Then can I please blast it?” Sam called over his shoulder.

  “Give Ghost a few minutes to get out of the way and get to Celia. Then yes, you can blast it,” Mentis said.

  Once he blew up the door, a battle would start. After that, there’d be little enough Anna could do, compared to her friends who could do so much. But that didn’t matter, because they were all here for the same reason: find Mom, get her out safe. That was Anna’s task.

  Teddy vanished through the door again.

  TWENTY-THREE

  THE minions returned and huddled in conference with Majors—out of Celia’s hearing, of course. Alas. Not that she would have been able to do anything with any information she gleaned. She kept glancing at the mentalist, Mindwall, wishing she could interrogate him on the extent of his power. Wishing she could knock him unconscious by sheer force of will. But no, that was Arthur’s ability.

  Arthur. She relied on him for so much. She’d taken him entirely for granted, and now she had plenty of time to review in painstaking detail all the mistakes she’d made in her adult life. Little mistakes, inconsequential. A missed birthday here. A failure to listen to her children sufficiently well. An obsession with details she might have been better off letting go. Celia had given herself a pass because those mistakes all paled when compared to the drama of her childhood. Except for the latest mistakes: She really should have told everyone about the leukemia. And when she told Arthur that he was right, assuming she got out of this in one piece, he wouldn’t even say I told you so.

  Maybe Majors was right, and she should have let the company go a long time ago. Let the big picture fend for itself while she focused on what was important: Arthur and the girls.

  No. Those thoughts were a trap, because while she didn’t have powers of her own, she was still her parents’ daughter. She had the power to make Commerce City better and an obligation to use it. Dr. Mentis of the Olympiad understood. So did Anna, or she wouldn’t have spent all these weeks sneaking out on her adventures.

  An explosion sounded, the whump of a fireball in a distant corridor, the hiss of gas and burning, and a group of people shouting in panic that seemed to echo through the building’s foundations and floor. No …

  Majors turned back to her, his face drawn into a very serious, very pitying frown. “Remember, you could have stopped this.”

  “You’re a psychopath,” she said. “I know your kind.”

  “You don’t know anyone like me,” he declared.

  She smiled, because she could list the names of all the villains who were just like him, who’d kidnapped her or tried to. Who’d failed, no matter how confidently they’d stood before her and ranted that they were different. The feeling of déjà vu was oppressive.

  The sounds continued, changing in ways Celia couldn’t interpret. The blast of a blowtorch, shouted denials, then … rain? Falling water? Whatever it was, the shouting stopped, which could either be good or bad.

  Typhoon …

  Which was only her mind playing tricks on her. A memory from the old days intruding.

  “That’s it, right?” Steel, the thug behind her, asked Majors. They’d all gone very quiet, listening. “They’re done?”

  “We’ll wait a few minutes and send Shark in to check. But I’ve studied all the vigilantes who might have come to help her, and none of them could escape those traps.”

  Just keep blustering. She desperately hoped he was wrong. Tried to imagine a world where he wasn’t, and her rescuers just met disaster. Tried and failed. She could not imagine herself not getting rescued, and wasn’t that an odd thought? Did Majors know that she’d never not been rescued?

  Celia flinched back when she felt a tickling pressure on her left wrist. A tugging at the nylon strap binding her. Then a voice whispered close her ear. “Ms. West, it’s Teddy Donaldson. I’m invisible.”

  Of course he was. She sat very still and kept a smile of relief off her face. When really, she wanted to laugh. The nylon jerked a few times, seemingly of its own accord—a strange thing to see—until the knot loosened. The boy was clever enough to leave the strap there but tied loosely enough for her to easily slip her hand free. He quickly did the same to the right hand and then her feet, leaving them entirely free of the straps.

  “When we give the signal, make a run for it,” he whispered.

  Now this was a rescue. She’d been freed right under Steel’s nose and no one was the wiser.

  A tiny breath of a draft marked Teddy’s passing. Steel looked over, as if he’d caught some motion out of the corner of his eye. But he shrugged it off.

  Celia wished she could have talked to Teddy, or that he’d leaned close enough for her to whisper a reply: Take out Mindwall. With the mentalist out of commission, Arthur could likely incapacitate the whole room and they could stroll out of here. If only …

  She took a deep breath to settle her nerves and waited. Everything was going to be all right, and very soon.

  The shadowy figure in green chose that moment to step into the open. The vigilante was tall, impressively fit, his arms and thighs leanly muscled under the skin-suit fabric. He stood in a pose of strength, shoulders back, hands clenched at his sides. His mouth and jaw were visible under the sleek helmet and mask he wore. He was clean shaven and seemed young.

  Majors and his people jumped like they’d been hit with a static shock. And Celia found out how Steel got his name when a metallic scraping wrenched from his raised arms, which had become elongated, flattened, and edged with vicious-looking blades. The man’s arms had become mutated, living swords, and he held them out and bent, ready to wield.

  She didn’t want her daughters anywhere near that man and hoped Arthur had the good sense not to bring them. The thought of the man standing guard behind her suddenly became that much more terrifying. All he’d have to do was drive one of his arms through her back …

  The green-suited super didn’t seem the least put off by the display, almost like he expected it. He announced, “Danton Majors, I need you to release Ms. West and surrender immediately.”

  Majors grunted. “Who the hell are you?”

  The young super hesitated, as if trying to figure out what to call himself, but he set his jaw and brushed the question away. “I’m a concerned citizen. You’ve broken a lot of laws here, Mr. Majors.”

  “Who are you to decide that?”

  The vigilante quirked a smile, tilted his head. “Just let her go.”

  “No,” Majors said. His grin turned ugly, and he glanced over his shoulder. “Steel?”

  The superhuman cocked back his bladed arms and ran forward.

  Even Celia knew you never ran head-on at a strange superhuman without knowing anything about their powers. Seriously.

  The mystery man leapt out of the way. He literally jumped, his power taking him across the room in a single stride. He bounced feetfirst against the wall, landed on the floor nearby in a crouch, and looked back at his opponents. Meanwhile, Steel had stabbed his right arm into the floor where the stranger had been standing, tearing through the carpet. Snarling, he wrenched his arm free. The man went after his quarry again, still running, as if moving fast enough would allow him to catch the jumper. This time, Steel slashed instead of stabbed, but the vigilante deftly sprang out of the way, bouncing across the room like some kind of insect. This time, he landed near Celia.

  She didn’t suppose he’d at all coordinated with the bunch in the stairwell …

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Majors said, laughing. “You think you’re just going to grab her and jump off the roof with her?”

  “Sure,” the vigilante said. “Why not?”

  Her eyes widened in alarm. She’d rather stay tied to the chair for the time being. Maybe she could talk him out this. Mindwall, she’d noticed, had edge
d to the wall, where he crouched in a vain effort to hide. No offensive capabilities, scared to death. Good.

  The whump and crash of another large explosion rattled through the space, closer this time. A couple of ceiling panels shook loose and fell to the floor.

  “What was that?” Steel gasped, unnecessarily.

  The woman, Sonic, ran into the open space. “Danton, they’ve broken through! They’re on this floor! They survived!”

  “Then stop them!”

  What followed sounded like nothing so much as a ray gun, a patter of high-pitched whines searing down the hallway. Blaster’s laser bolts. When Sonic and Shark appeared from around the corner, they ducked and dodged like a couple of kids fleeing a snowball fight. It was almost amusing.

  “What are you doing?” Majors yelled at them. He was losing control of the situation, and he knew it.

  “We can’t get close, it’s the kid with the ray beam—”

  “I don’t care! Sonic: Knock them down!”

  The two supers turned to hold their ground, Shark crouching and Sonic taking cover behind him. He clapped his hands over his ears, and Majors and the rest of his people did likewise—Steel managed to retract his swords first, alas.

  The woman leaned around, cupping her hands around her mouth and letting out a noise that didn’t seem like it could ever come from a human. Almost an electronic squeal, Celia felt it in her bones more than heard it with her ears. As the vibrations rumbled up through the floor, her gut turned over, and she grew more nauseated. The steel frame of the skyscraper itself seemed to be vibrating on some fundamental resonate frequency. The whole building was going to turn to powder if this kept up.

  Celia debated pulling her hands out of her bindings to cover her ears, to give away that her rescuers were already in the room and she’d been freed. Hell, she could probably just run. And go where?

  Things happened very quickly, too quickly for Celia to decide on an action, one way or another. First: The windows shattered. Starting with a ringing sound, ethereal church bells, the glass bowed, cracked, maybe only on this floor, maybe across the entire building. The cracks multiplied into a frosted sheen while Sonic’s wailing continued to pound them, until the entire wall of glass burst outward in a shimmering crest of glinting shards. Sheets of glass would be raining down onto the streets below.