Superluminary
Page 8
Shit. I’ll have to go back down, Chris thought. But just as she was about to descend the metal staircase, the robot leapt up through the crater. The kinetic energy of its momentum shattered the glass windows all around them as it blew the mall’s entire front facade into the street.
Chris surrounded herself in a force field while thousands of shards of broken glass and crumbling concrete rained down around her. The deafening noise was amplified when the Golem unleashed a steady stream of bullets in all directions. The corresponding weapons weren’t even visible.
The Golem advanced to the gaping front wall, continuing its rampage toward the streets beyond. There was no way Chris could let that happen, especially since it might have been her intervention that had led to this. If she hadn’t interrupted the confrontation in the parking garage, the Golem would sleep the night away in passive standby.
Dashing through the destroyed mall’s front facade at max speed, she jumped in front of the lumbering machine. When she reached the metal chain link fence that surrounded the construction zone, she whirled around and erected a force field in front of the Golem’s lead leg as it trudged ahead. The leg collided with the energy shield, causing the robotic giant to trip and lurch forward.
Its body awareness was disturbingly humanlike. As it shifted back to steady itself, Chris quickly created another pair of force fields behind it. When its legs got caught on the rear obstructions, causing it to topple over, the ground rumbled with the impact. Taking advantage of the moment, Chris scanned the area for anything large and heavy. A couple of cars were parked nearby. She gritted her teeth and clenched a fist, punching down into the ground to channel all of her willpower into the mental push.
The energy blossomed underneath the nearest car, heaving the vehicle off the ground, sending it flying through the air a short distance. The car crashed into the chain link fence and crushed a good portion of it, but it wasn’t hurled far enough to crush the Golem. It did get the robot’s notice, however. While the Golem had paid little attention to Chris before now, it seemed to be irritated enough to change its tactics. As it turned to face her, pieces of invisible machinery shifted and clicked.
Chris put up a force field around herself and braced for an onslaught. She had no idea if her energy shields were any match against laser beams or whatever else was in the robot’s arsenal. The Golem didn’t shoot, however. It paused for a moment, then realigned itself towards the five-story apartment building across the road.
It must be aware of the force field, Chris realized. She had no choice but to throw caution to the wind. She lowered the energy shield, leaving herself completely exposed, and hoped for the best. Here goes nothing. A second later, the Golem’s attention shifted back to her.
“Give me all you’ve got!” Chris screamed, extending her two middle fingers.
Some flash of thought at the back of her mind briefly wondered whether that had been a good idea. Her danger sense triggered
wave of exploding heat, burned flesh
but she didn’t reestablish a force field around herself. She had to get the Golem to shoot directly at her.
She dug her nails into her arms to distract her body from the phantom pain she knew was coming. Just before her danger sense feedback reached a painful level, she took a step back. The kind of step that slowed reality, giving her the additional half second she needed to encase all of the Golem’s upper body in an energy bubble.
The android discharged its built-up energy at Chris and blew itself up instead. The explosion ended the phantom assault on her senses, but brought on a new kind of real pain. She collapsed onto the ground and covered the sides of her head with her forearms. Her eardrums reverberated with the impact of the explosion, but the sound was distant and detached.
I won, Chris thought, the realization slowly settling in. Seattle is safe. She rolled over onto her back to catch her breath.
Something was moving in the night sky above her. Chris struggled to make out a suspended humanoid shape bathed in silver-gray moonlight as it hovered by the moon. The scene was reminiscent of the night before, when Radiant had appeared above her on the beach, but it was clear this was not the same person. Evanescent ribbons flowed out from behind the figure on a current of air that defied physics, as if stirred by some sort of outer-dimensional force.
The stranger descended to earth, and Chris was taken by surprise when the Golem blew up again in an explosion that was even larger than the last. The entire night sky was momentarily lit up by the blast as burning bits of the robot were hurled in all directions. The smallest pieces were still drifting through the darkness several seconds after the explosion like fireflies.
Now safely on the ground, the figure stepped closer. Chris recognized the man’s mask at once: a delicate gray Venetian mask, like what the Phantom of the Opera would wear, with silver rims around the eyeholes. Small adornments in the shape of angel wings framed the concealed face.
“Samael?” she whispered.
The Covenant hero nodded, but Chris realized a second too late that it wasn’t directed at her. A loud buzz cut through the air, and then a sharp pain entirely too real shot through her body.
Then there was nothing except all-consuming darkness.
1.5 Mascot
Somewhere in the USA
Monday, the 28th of May, 2012
1:12 p.m.
Chris woke to the sound of her heartbeat pounding in her ears. When she opened her eyes, she found herself surrounded by absolute darkness. Her attempt to shift into a more comfortable position made her head swim and sent a wave of nausea through her body while her left arm was numb, reacting sluggishly. The effort of lifting her face off her forearm sent a sharp throb of pain through her neck.
Where am I? She wondered, woozy. What time is it? What day is it?
The light came on, and the sudden illumination stung her eyes. Everything was a blurry haze of different shades of gray. She squinted against the glare. After a minute or two, her eyes had adjusted enough to survey the room.
Chris found herself in a fairly large cell, about twelve by twelve feet. Its walls were covered with white subway tiles, and a heavy metal door was set into the wall opposite the basic camp-style cot where she lay. The light source was recessed into the wall by the door. The only furniture was reminiscent of a typical prison cell: a freestanding toilet and small sink in one corner, a basic table and two chairs in the middle of the room, and a small metal shelf.
The shelf was stocked with a few neatly folded garments, some of which looked vaguely familiar. The ‘I had this at home, but never wore it because Mom picked it out for me’ kind of familiar.
Chris pushed the thought away. There were too many other pressing concerns to deal with before she could consider all that pent-up emotional baggage she associated with home.
Chris made the effort to sit up. She endured the wave of nausea that followed, trying to sort out how she’d gotten here—wherever here was. She had a few vague memories, but the way they linked together in her mind didn’t make any sense. As far as she could recall, she’d played the principal role in taking out a pretty major threat—some crazy robot that even the heroes hadn’t known about. If the Covenant was grateful for her help, they had a strange way of showing it.
Chris also remembered the eloquent reassurances that Athena’s drone had delivered to her in the park. You have been deemed safe by the UNEOA, and you may move around freely. Chris’s memories of that conversation ignited a cold spark of anger within her. She’d been lied to, obviously.
She dug through her memories some more, but couldn’t think of anything that would justify this incarceration. Sure, she had to admit that she’d bent the rules a little. She’d used her powers on people, but it had been to protect them. It shouldn’t matter that those people had been armed gang members at a questionable location in shady company. Right? Besides, Athena had outright told her that she could defend herself from other rogue Evolved, which was exactly what Chris had done.
And even though the heroine might have recommended that Chris call for help in such situations, that wasn’t reasonable. Even if she’d had her phone with her, what should she have done? Call 911? She made a sour face. The thought of calling the civilian emergency number was ridiculous.
Almost makes me wish I’d talked to Gentleman, Chris seethed. At least he had manners.
She turned her attention to the small mahogany table in the middle of the room. Now that she was sitting up, she saw there was a plate of food and a bottle of water waiting there for her. Her stomach grumbled.
Swinging her legs over the side of the cot, she winced as a rush of pain and nausea nearly overtook her. After taking a moment to recover, she slowly climbed to her feet. The nausea was tolerable as long as she didn’t make any hasty movements.
She found her sneakers by the foot of the cot and quickly slipped them on, noting that they had been cleaned of mud and guck. The clothes she was wearing were still the same—her hoodie, the jogging pants, even the contents in her pockets. She had no idea what had happened to her costume and she didn’t particularly care.
Chris pulled out one of the chairs and managed to sit down at the table. The sandwich looked incredible, stuffed with meat and veggies. As she wolfed down the first bite, a crackling sound came from somewhere above her head. She looked up to see an intercom on the wall above the door.
Decidedly turning her attention back to the food, she ignored the intercom. The sandwich tasted wonderful. The bread was soft and the vegetables were still crunchy. There was a hint of sauce that tasted distinctively homemade, full of herbs and spices.
A familiar voice came over the intercom. “Christina?”
Only people who are a pain in the ass call me by my full name, Chris mused, ignoring the voice and taking another bite.
“If you are still hungry after this, or if there is anything else you would like, do not hesitate to inform the guards stationed outside your door,” Athena’s voice said.
Chris chewed in silence.
“Your parents have provided some items from home that you might appreciate,” Athena went on. “Take a look on the shelf when you feel ready.”
Chris swallowed a mouthful of sandwich and washed it down with a swig of water. She would have preferred a drink with some taste to wash the bitterness from her mouth, but she was determined not to ask Athena for anything.
Several seconds passed before the heroine made another attempt. “I would like you to know that you have not been indicted of anything.” Athena’s crackly voice sustained its calm, practiced tone.
Chris took another long swallow of water. At least she doesn’t sound condescending. Somehow, that made it harder to keep ignoring her.
The heroine tried again. “I assume you have a lot of questions right now. We have some as well, but there will be time for that a little later. For now, it is enough for you to know that there are no charges.”
“No charges, huh?” Chris repeated dully. “Then why the hell am I here?” Her face prickled with heat and anger. “And whatever happened to asking questions before you knock someone out cold?”
“Samael’s orders, Christina.”
Chris frowned and lowered the remaining half of her sandwich to the plate. “I thought Radiant was calling the shots on your team.”
After an uncharacteristic hesitation on Athena’s end of the conversation, the heroine finally said, “Radiant is preoccupied in South Africa along with the rest of our team. There is a small matter that needs his attention.”
Something was off about that. Chris could think of several reasons why most of the Covenant would be called to some far-off part of the world, since the UNEOA had global jurisdiction and the Covenant was responsible for doing the organization’s bidding. Still, Athena’s hesitation hinted there was much more that she wasn’t saying.
“Where are you?” Chris asked the intercom, thinking it was strange that she still hadn’t seen the heroine in person.
“I am in the building, actually. I will come to see you once you become more settled in your new surroundings.”
“To talk to me about joining the Wardens again?”
“It is a good option for you, Christina. The Wardens have two other teens who are about your age. You could connect with them and with others who have had similar experiences. In addition, according to agreements with your president and senate, the Covenant would be able to call on you in times of need.”
Chris sighed, but said nothing. She thought she’d made her position clear when she’d talked to Athena the last time.
“We will talk more about the Wardens later,” the heroine added. “But for now, there is someone who would like to meet you. She insisted on making your acquaintance, and I believe it is a good idea. She will be with you in a minute.”
“What if I don’t want to see anyone?” Chris protested. But it was too late. The intercom had already clicked off.
They must not consider me dangerous if they’re sending random visitors in to see me. Chris was only slightly consoled by the thought.
She was swallowing the last bite of her sandwich when the door’s lock mechanisms shifted and clicked. A few seconds later the door cracked open to reveal the shadow of whoever was on the other side.
“Woo, it really is like a prison in here!” a small voice exclaimed. Judging from the sound of it, the voice belonged to a girl much younger than Chris.
A few seconds later, the girl stepped inside. “Hi,” she said boldly. “I’m Emily, but you can call me Kid. Everyone calls me that anyway.”
Chris just nodded. Even though the girl was wearing a striped polo shirt and blue capris instead of her Warden’s costume, Chris didn’t need an introduction. Everyone with media access would recognize the youngest member of the American hero team. Kid was undeniably cute, and the views she got on her online videos outranked the ever-popular kitten clips.
Emily took a position by the door, eyeing the cell’s sparse interior with the casual ease of someone who expected to be welcome everywhere. She was about nine or ten years old, but looked small for her age. She had a small symmetrical face and a snub nose with a spattering of freckles across the bridge. Her large blue eyes roved the room with childish inquisitiveness, and a spill of straight auburn hair brushed her shoulders.
Chris could see where this was headed from a mile away. The only reason they would send a Warden to see her was if they planned to force her onto the team.
Not that she had to give in.
Damn you, Athena, Chris thought, feeling blindsided. Sending a child to influence me is just unfair. Chris had a weak spot for children. She always found them easier to deal with than other teenagers or, worse, adults. From her experience, children weren’t nearly as full of shit.
“They said you don’t talk much.” Emily casually loitered in front of the shelf to check out the items stored on it. “Hey, it’s cool. I don’t mind.”
Chris watched the girl without budging from her cot. “Who said that?”
“Um, like, everyone? The news people, your teachers, everyone. But your friend was on the news too, and he said you’re nice. Not as mean as you look on TV.”
Is that supposed to be a compliment?
Chris swept the thought aside. “Oh, yeah? Which friend?”
As if I have that many to choose from. Still, she needed to hear someone else talk about him. She needed to hear someone validate that Ryan didn’t hate her.
“You know, the long-haired sporty guy. The one who looks like a Japanese swordfighter dude when he has his hair knotted on top.”
Just then, a memory of Gentleman’s face beneath the silver masquerade mask bubbled to the surface. Chris felt her anger surge as she remembered how the villain’s face had taken on aspects of Ryan’s appearance. Gentleman had assumed Ryan’s features to manipulate her, and he’d probably based his manipulation on a picture he’d seen on the news.
“What did he say?” Chris regretted the words the instant they left h
er mouth. She wasn’t the type to go fishing for validation, and she didn’t want anyone—even a kid—to think that she cared what anyone else thought. She’d worked too hard over the years to surround herself with walls made from shovelfuls of ‘I don’t give a damn.’
“He said that people didn’t understand you. Something like that. Hey! That’s a nice shirt.”
So he didn’t actually say anything about me being nice, Chris thought with disappointment as she watched Emily unfold one of the garments. It was a sleeveless white summer top with a yellow flower printed on the front.
Emily unfolded the top and pressed it to her own chest over her striped polo tee. The flowery top hung to her knees like a shapeless sack, making her seem even tinier than she was. “It’s all sloppy and floppy for my size, but I think it’s gonna look nice on you as a Warden,” she mused.
Chris groaned. So she’d been right.
“I already told Athena that I have no intention of joining the Wardens,” she informed the girl.
Emily didn’t respond right away. She was fussing over the flower shirt, trying to fold it back up. She finally gave up and simply tossed it onto the cot. When Emily finally spoke, her eyes revealed a burden which shouldn’t have been there. “You know what my powers are?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “I can tell what people are feeling, and I know you’re sad.”
“Oh, yeah?” Chris said, surprised. Like everyone else in America, she had known that Emily was an Empath. But the information available to the public hadn’t outlined the specifics of her power.
Emily nodded. “They asked me to use my power on you to get to know you better, so I did. But Mrs. Clarence made me stop because I was screaming and hitting a wall or something. I don’t remember.”
Chris’s heart skipped a beat. She was used to dealing with her own downs in life—had been for years now—but no child should have to endure that.
“They shouldn’t have asked you do that.”
The girl just shrugged. “It shouldn’t be a secret if you’re so sad.”