Superluminary

by Olivia Rising

  All except for one man who bolted for the exit.

  A thunderous boom ripped through the air beside Sarina. The bolting man’s approach came to a sudden halt before he tumbled to the floor with a sharp cry. Once his body spasmed and stilled, the studio was blanketed with silence.

  Oh, no. Please, no. Sarina lowered her hands from her ears to press them to her mouth instead. A cry bubbled in her throat, wanting to get out.

  “Now don’t anyone else fucking move,” Ace’s distorted voice boomed. A fearful whimper came from somewhere in the room.

  All at once the studio door crashed open and half a dozen guards poured into the room, weapons at the ready. None of them fired a shot. They darted their heads around, unable to find their suspects.

  “Everyone’s gonna be fine,” Ace’s projected voice boomed. “But next time anyone moves, it won’t be a tranquilizer shot, it’ll be cold hard lead. Understand?”

  He’s bluffing, Sarina thought desperately. He has to be.

  One of the guards recited codes into his shoulder radio while others held their position near the entrance, telling the studio crew to stay down. It was obvious they couldn’t make any real moves because they lacked targets.

  One by one the weapons in the guards’ hands disappeared as well as the grenades and other equipment attached to their belts. Sarina had never been more relieved to have Snow on her side.

  The guards stared down at their now empty hands. A muscular bald man who had the look of a commander relayed a terse update through his radio. Sarina didn’t understand all of the jargon, but she could tell that he was mobilizing the security and the police who were positioned outside and in the building.

  Through the open door of the production studio, she saw Tess hook up various cords to the studio’s broadcast equipment.

  “Please,” the stage manager whined. “Take whatever you want. Just don’t hurt anyone else.”

  “Good man,” Ace’s voice boomed. “If you don’t piss me off, we’ll be gone soon.”

  The bald guard commander beckoned for his now-disarmed men to spread out along one of the walls. “The Covenant has been alerted of the situation,” he said into the room.

  “Like I said,” Ace replied. “We’re not planning to stick around.”

  From the couch, the host let out a half-choked sob.

  “Ace,” Sunny whispered, his voice strained. “More people. Incoming.”

  “Can’t be the Covenant yet,” Ace replied with his normal voice, unheard by anyone except the Nameless. “Security?”

  Sunny shook his masked head. “No. There’s six or seven of them. Flying in, above the roof,” the boy elaborated with significant effort. “They’re talking about breaking through. Smashing a hole.”

  “That wasn’t the fucking plan,” Ace growled. He turned to the production room and raised his voice to a near shout. “Tess! Get a move on! There’s an uninvited third party flying in. Let’s hope it’s not the fucking feathered Emo.”

  Feathered Emo? When Sarina made the connection, her hand clenched Jasper’s arm. “Raven,” she whispered as her mind raced with the many possibilities of how this situation could go wrong.

  Jasper gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. “It’ll be all right,” he whispered.

  “Got it. We’re on air,” Tess announced from the production room.

  Ace gestured to Sunny, indicating he wanted to be heard by everyone in the studio. “There are powered flyers incoming so everyone take cover. That includes you, guards. Sorry you got no guns.”

  The guards didn’t budge, but the studio crew and guests obediently cowered. The host dropped to her knees with a sob, making a futile attempt to squeeze into the hand’s breadth of space underneath the couch.

  “We should let everyone leave,” Sarina said, hoarse. “No hostages, remember?”

  “Can’t,” Ace said. “If they leave, we’re gonna get caught by the guards outside.”

  Sarina watched Jasper get up from his place beside her. Before she could ask what he was up to, he was already on his way to the hysterical host. She didn’t doubt his good intentions, but she wished he stayed close to her.

  “Can’t you disable the weapons of the guards outside?” she asked Ace, her eyes glued to Jasper’s back.

  “I can’t risk it. They don’t just have guns, Wondergirl. They’ve got grenades. I’m not sure I can disable them all before one of them goes off.”

  “Why don’t we leave?” Sarina pleaded. “Whatever Tess is doing—”

  Her voice was cut short by a sharp, high-pitched whir slicing through the air. Seconds later, large chunks of concrete crashed onto the floor near the stage, drawing cries of panic from the hysterical staff. Sarina looked up to see an opening the size of a manhole appear in the ceiling.

  Something was coming down through it.

  5.6 Escalation

  Liverpool, England

  Tuesday, the 12th of June, 2012

  4:45 p.m.

  A pitch black fog flowed through the hole that had been cut into the ceiling, rapidly expanding to plunge the studio into darkness.

  “Sarina, get back!” Jasper yelled, backing away from the stage. He managed to retreat three steps before the blackness engulfed him. His quick disappearance strangled Sarina’s breath from her chest.

  She clung to the wall, gripped by paralyzing fear. Everything was happening too fast for her to comprehend so she squeezed her eyes shut as the darkness reached her. The sudden blindness was less terrifying if she pretended it was her decision.

  A shrill scream of panic came from ahead. Somewhere to the right a male voice murmured something that sounded comforting, but his words were too quiet for Sarina to make them out. There was noise from above, too. A whisper, a chuckle, and the faint scraping of footwear against stone. Raven’s crew can see in this darkness, she remembered. They’re coming down here.

  Ace spoke up somewhere to the left. “Hey, kid. I gotta talk to Raven.”

  “Okay,” Sunny’s small, but steady voice sounded through the darkness.

  At least they sound like they’re unharmed. Sarina allowed herself to relax a little. She opened her eyes to face the dark, extending a hand in the direction where she had last seen Jasper. He wasn’t there. The blackness was so absolute, she couldn’t even see her own body.

  She slowly pulled herself to her feet. “Is everyone okay?”

  “We are,” Ace said. “Tess, you all right?” he yelled across the studio.

  “Yep!” came the answer from the direction of the production studio. “Tape’s still rolling.”

  “Don’t worry, Dancing Queen,” came Jasper’s voice. “I don’t think they’re here for us.”

  Following the direction of his voice, Sarina shuffled half a step to the side before reaching out her arm again. When her fingers brushed against the cloth of her friend’s cloak, she exhaled with relief.

  The sound of multiple sets of footsteps echoed through the darkness, followed by the jarring scrape of shifting furniture.

  “Raven,” Ace said.

  “Well, hello there, my friends!” a male voice rang out, filled with so much smug and self-content that Sarina immediately recognized it as Raven’s. He hadn’t sounded any different at the Sun King’s court a few days before.

  “Any particular reason you’re crashing our party?” Ace’s voice brimmed with anger. “No one said shit about you showing up.”

  “I think you’ve been talking to the wrong people,” Raven bit back. “Because let me tell you, shit’s about to go down.”

  A woman’s thin whimper drifted through the darkness, sending a shiver down Sarina’s spine. If they’re not here for us, they must be after the TV crew. Or the guests.

  She slipped a hand into her cloak until she felt the inside pocket, closing her fingers around the music player.

  “We’ve already got the situation in hand so buzz off, why don’t you?” Ace spat.

  As Ace and Raven exchanged barbs, Sarina overheard a fe
w hushed words exchanged off to her right, near where she last saw the guards. She couldn’t understand most of the exchange, but she picked up the words ‘Darkshaper’ and ‘reinforcements.’ They’re relaying the situation on the radio, she realized, not sure whether to be thankful or worried.

  Another female wail came from the direction of the couches. Sarina leaned over to listen in the dark and assure herself that none of the hostages were being harmed, but Raven and Ace’s two-man show made it difficult to hear anything else.

  Keep calm, Ace, she thought desperately. She knew that he could shoot a fly from a quarter mile away with his eyes closed, but she hoped he wouldn’t kill Raven. No hostages, and no one gets hurt. The words were becoming a mantra to her.

  “Hey, Snow?” Ace’s voice called out. “Can you remove the darkness?”

  “No,” came her frail answer. “Must see to make go away.”

  It was Raven’s voice Sarina heard next. It sounded closer now, only a few feet away from her. “Mr. Kovac. Would you come here please? Follow my voice, and don’t dilly-dally. As you can hear, the women are distressed.” His words drew another pitiful sob from one of the women in the darkness ahead.

  They’re here for the UNEOA representative. Sarina wondered if anyone had hired them for the job. Raven’s Murder of Crows was known as a mercenary outfit.

  She pulled the music player from her cloak, recalling that Sunny had said that there would be six or seven unwelcome visitors. Come on Ace, do something, she urged silently. Don’t leave this to me. If I use my power, this is will be a disaster.

  The next voice she heard was Mr. Kovac’s. “What do you want from me? My family isn’t wealthy.”

  “Ah, but this isn’t about money,” Raven’s voice said.

  “For Chrissake,” Ace interjected. “Do you want the Covenant heroes cracking down on you and your crew?”

  Radiant isn’t going to show up. Sarina frowned. Ace had been right about that. If he hadn’t, the hero’s speed of light travel would have brought him here already. But how on earth had Ace known?

  Raven gave an irritating chuckle. “Ace. Why do you sound so pleased by the idea? You came here to tell the world what happens when people like us get killed. Oh yes, I’ve already heard about it. Don’t worry. We’re about to leave.”

  “They’re going to track you down,” Ace said. “You won’t survive this.”

  “And how would the Covenant track us? Queenie’s dead, mate.”

  Sarina felt like she had been punched in the stomach. No way, she thought, clenching and unclenching the Mp3 player.

  “You’re full of shit,” Ace said. “The Covenant has Saint’s protection. And like he said in Paris, he’s got no intention of dropping it. Not as long as the heroes don’t go on a crusade against us all.”

  “Oh, so you haven’t heard?” Raven crowed, savoring the moment. “Saint went batshit crazy yesterday. The Covenant’s not protected for shit anymore. The tyranny is over, man. We can finally go out there and have fun.”

  Saint went crazy? Sarina didn’t believe it. Raven had to be lying.

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” Ace asked.

  “Ah. Details for another day, my friend. For now, I’ve got business with Mr. Kovac here.”

  Sarina heard a slight scuffle several feet away, followed by a series of muffled, gagged sounds. She squeezed her eyes shut, struggling with herself. She didn’t want to use her power, but maybe it was necessary.

  “I suggest you hold still, Mr. Kovac,” Raven said, his voice strained. “There’s no guarantee my power will keep you afloat if you don’t.”

  Hurried footsteps thudded all around them, accompanied by a flurry of coded language and radio static. Sarina heard a loud thud followed by the sound of something crashing to the floor and a muttered curse.

  Jasper’s alarmed voice sounded through the darkness. “Ace, the guards are on the move. And the Crows are about to bail with Kovac.”

  “Shit. Hang on, Raven. Let’s talk this through.”

  The only response was a derisive laugh followed by muffled grunting.

  Sarina’s heart plunged. Everyone will assume we took part in the kidnapping. She thumbed the music player in her hand, frantically searching for the on switch. A rustle came from somewhere ahead. A second later a draught of cooler, fresher air swept through the darkness, stirring the small hairs on her hands.

  “Suspect at large with high-priority hostage Kovac,” a guard’s voice reported into his radio.

  This isn’t how it’s supposed to go down. Sarina slipped an earbud into her right ear and pushed the skip forward button, changing tracks from memory. One, two, three, four, five, six….

  “Better get out too, mate,” Raven’s voice rang out from above. “The Euro heroes are already outside.”

  “He’s shitting us,” Tess said from somewhere to the right. “They were in Brussels half an hour ago. Not even Crashbang’s that fast.”

  Ace groaned in frustration. “How much longer for the transmission?”

  “Four minutes. Five tops,” Tess told him.

  But Mr. Kovac will be long gone by then, Sarina thought, feeling guilty.

  At that point the first electronic beat of Jasper’s power-boosting track kicked on. The birdsong and flute notes joined in several seconds later, sending a tremor through her body. She gasped as Dancer emerged from the dark recesses of her mind, surfacing with a burst of furious determination.

  However, Dancer didn’t give two shits about Mr. Kovac. As far as she knew, the UNEOA had given the Covenant an execution order on her for no fucking reason, and she wasn’t nearly as indulgent about it as Crybaby Sarina had been. The man could be turned into crow food for all she cared.

  Instead she took a quick tally of everyone else who was likely still in the studio. The other Nameless. The host, the blogger, and the stage manager. Three or four cameramen. Guards who had moved and could turn up anywhere once the darkness faded.

  “Fuck it,” Ace spat. “Tess, pack up. We ain’t got ten minutes, or even eight. We’re leaving. Now.” His voice softened somewhat before he spoke again. “What’s the situation outside, Sunny Boy?”

  “The … heroes. They’re—” Sunny’s voice was even more strained than it had been a few minutes before. “…they’re outside. One’s moving … around the building. The others are talking about us. They know we’re here.”

  “Damn you, Raven,” Ace muttered. “Couldn’t dispel your darkness when you left, could you?”

  “It go away,” Snow said. “But is slow.”

  “How slow? More than a minute?”

  “No,” Snow said. “It go away soon.”

  The little Revoker can sense the duration of active power effects? Dancer noted. How interesting and useful.

  “You okay, Sarina?” Jasper’s voice was thick with concern.

  Dancer was almost a little moved. How unfortunate that the guy was a hopeless softie who inspired pity more than anything else.

  “Why wouldn’t I be fine? I feel fantastic.” She shoved the music player back into her cloak pocket while it was still connected to her by the one earbud she wore. The music pulsing through the connection filled her with second heartbeat, a tremor of pure power. This was the real deal, none of the silly fairy-tale magic the other guys dabbled with.

  Dancer didn’t need to see through the darkness to extend her range. All she needed was space. She rolled one shoulder and the other with an undulating flow of movement, and dropped down to one knee to slap a hand on the floor.

  Her life sense exploded out from her, filling her with a profound awareness of every living being within a 150-foot radius of the building. She focused her attention on the people: the five guards within the studio, scattered all over the place; stragglers beyond the glass door panel, maybe civilians who happened to pass by; several armed security teams; Raven, his five Crows, and their captive, who were flying out of her range.

  So many life lights. All of them had differe
nt colors and shimmered with varying degrees of intensity. The sheer amount of power Dancer held on to was intoxicating. Reaching this far out felt like she was elevating herself to a different level of existence. It was a glimpse of Divinity and overwhelming potential, the potential to reshape the world on a scale that had never been experienced in human history. She had no interest in change, though. What she wanted right that moment was to find those damn heroes before they found her and her team.

  The life lights of five people in particular drew her attention. They were far brighter than the others, a sure indicator of powers. Four of them already stood in front of the building’s main entrance while the fifth was jogging to the others since he finished a circle around the building. His movements left a suspicious trail of luminescence in his wake.

  She immediately knew who she was looking at: Rune, leader of the European hero team. He had the ability to apply all kinds of unpleasant effects to any area he managed to encircle with his powers. Temporary paralysis was one of them.

  Be gone, Dancer commanded.

  She sensed how the pavement around the building shifted in response to her will, rolling and churning to reshape itself without the mark of Rune’s effect.

  She couldn’t see his reaction but the sound of agitated voices reeled her back into the studio, prompting her to let go of the life sense to focus on her human perception. The fog of darkness was gone. Dancer saw that most of the guards, still unarmed, had moved onto the stage and now formed a protective circle around the host and the blogger. The two women were still crouched beside the wayward furniture arrangement, still scared out of their wits.

  The bald senior guard stood apart from the others. He was right beside Snow, oblivious to her presence thanks to Sunny’s powers.

  The boy’s not half bad, Dancer had to admit. But not as good as me.

  “Sarina! Talk to me!” Jasper yelled, grabbing Dancer’s shoulders to give them a firm shake. His expression was hidden by the mask, but his voice rose with panic.

  “I’m fine,” she said, irritable. She reached up to knock his hands away. Couldn’t he see that she was busy addressing this situation? She had to get these people out of here. No hostages, and no one gets hurt. Crybaby Sarina’s stupid mantra stayed stuck in her mind.