Eight percent.
“I have a nice hammock, thank you,” Andrey returned, keeping his tone light. “But I can’t tell you anything else for security reasons.” He was glad for the excuse to cut this little segue as short as possible.
I’m in hiding, remember? The equivalent of the witness protection program for heroes. The thought rekindled the helpless frustration from two days before.
In truth, the tiny mud brick villa that served as his temporary home belonged to Calavera’s family, located in a distant village a half-day’s bus ride to the nearest airport. It was also inhabited by Technomage before her disappearance. With bright painted walls and terra cotta floor tiles, it was sparse yet comfortable.
Andrey rolled his chair back, looking out the barred window to the one-story building now housing his brother’s family and his mother. A family of six had been relocated to make room for the Luvkovs. Andrey hadn’t yet figured how he could possibly repay the kindness of the villagers.
“Security reasons?” Kathy echoed playfully. “Ha! Even I traced you to Madrid and Brasília, and I haven’t been blessed with that magical doo-doo. I had to rely on my charm and ravishing good looks, thank you.”
Andrey smiled. I’d go with a brilliant mind and a healthy dose of confidence.
“Well, I have to at least try to be as careful as possible,” he said, his smile withering. The moment of mental respite was gone. “If there’s a slip-up, the locals will pay the price. All those adorable Mexican kids depend on me, you know?”
Kathy laughed. “Well, by all means, you have to protect the children as any good hero does.”
Yes, protect the children and act as Calavera’s backup support in a pinch, Andrey added silently. Not to mention, making Legion my number one priority. Favors, he realized, did not come cheap.
He glanced at the monitor. The progress bar was at over twenty percent now.
“You’re harder to track when you move at the speed of light, you know,” Kathy pointed out.
She was correct, of course, but he couldn’t leave his family to make the trip on their own. What if someone had tried to hijack the planes? “Yes, I know.”
“I guess you didn’t stay in Brazil.”
“Maybe I did. Then again, maybe not.”
In truth, Calavera’s team had laid false tracks. Anyone with an interest in finding Andrey would expect the Luvkovs to be somewhere along the coast of Brazil, although none of that mattered if whoever was after him employed a Visionary with locating powers. Besides, he hadn’t forgotten Gentleman’s cell phone, which he had tucked away in the desk for the time being.
The thought of the phone reminded him of something he had meant to investigate: the villain’s claim that Queenie’s replacement was working for him.
“While we wait, can you look into new transitions for me?” he asked. “Anyone between Tuesday around noon GMT and now?”
“Sure. Hang on.” The line filled with the sound of fingers flying across a keyboard at lightning speed. A few minutes later, Kathy was back on the phone. “Okay, Andrey? I have two results, a girl from Karachi and a young man from Jakarta. Neither of their transitions were made public, and here’s something strange. Both of them disappeared right after the local authorities were called. And the weirdest thing is, everyone living with them also disappeared. At the same time.” Kathy let the weight of her discovery hang in the air.
“Yes, very strange.” Andrey’s mind raced with the implications. “You’re sure nothing was leaked to the media?”
“Positive.”
“Can you find anything about their powers?”
“No, nothing specific,” Kathy said against a backdrop of typing sounds. “Only internal transition alerts. With more time, maybe I could crack Indonesia’s intelligence network and see if there’s anything in there. But Pakistan was recently upgraded, might have gotten help from a powered techie in exchange for asylum.”
Andrey mulled that over for a few seconds. “How long after their transitions did they disappear? Are we talking minutes or hours?”
“Within two hours, and there wasn’t any trace of discarded clothing left behind.”
So not Legion.
By all accounts, the monster stayed away from populated areas because he lured people into isolated landscapes with some sort of long-range psychic power. And yes, he often left traces of his victims behind.
Andrey clenched his fists. In that moment he knew with certainty who was behind the kidnappings.
Damn you, Gentleman.
He sank into his seat and closed his eyes. The short response time between transitioning and kidnapping meant that the Conglomerate could capture hostages on a global scale, building its talent base before the Covenant or anyone else could intervene.
He opened his eyes to stare at the screen. Forty-seven percent complete. God, he couldn’t wait to have access to his research again.
“Did either transition happen in close proximity to the time of Queenie’s death?” Andrey asked.
The mention of Queenie produced a moment of heavy silence between them. “The Jakarta case, maybe,” Kathy answered. “Gamal Perkasa, age twenty-two. I don’t have the exact time, but it probably happened within hours, if not minutes, of Sarah’s…” she trailed off, all joy gone from her voice.
“What about the UNEOA official that was kidnapped on Tuesday? Any news or demands?”
“Nope. But if they ever come after me, I want you on the case. You hear me, Andrey? Think of it. My own personal spandex-clad Tarzan. Call me Jane!”
Andrey eyed the progress bar. Sixty-one percent. “You’re too talented to be a Jane. But if you can find any other info on those transitions, I’ll send you a poncho.”
“A poncho?” Kathy echoed. “All right. Fine. I’ll track what I can for you. But Snookums, this hard-working girl will need more than a poncho, if you catch my drift.”
Even an octopus could have caught her drift. Andrey studied the busty, painted ceramic figurine with the ample bosom sitting on his desk. Local incarnation of Mother Earth, he supposed.
He asked the question despite knowing the answer. “What do you suggest?”
She had a thing for him for years now, ever since she started at UNEOA headquarters. A ‘crush,’ Americans called it. He thought the irony of the word was lost to most of them.
Seventy-five percent.
“A date should be sufficient payback,” she cooed.
He sighed. Kathy had a certain charm to her, and she was an attractive young woman, not to mention sharp. The truth was, he didn’t have the time or the energy to have an affair at this point because his life was already complicated enough. But he didn’t want to risk offending her, either. Not when she was his last remaining tie to years of his life’s work.
He feigned a humorous tone. “You remember the half million-dollar bounty on my head, right? Are you sure you want to sip coffee with me when the next attack happens?”
“They raised the bounty, last I checked,” Kathy declared, cheerful. “But I’ll have to wait to give you my estimate of what it should really be. You know, after you’ve proven your worth and all that. I hope you’re not fast at everything you do!”
“I’ve barely slept, Kathy, and you may recall how I’ve had trouble with my family lately so I’d appreciate if you could get me a few leads. As a friend. A good friend,” he added.
Eighty-two percent.
“If you want to owe me one for later, we can arrange it,” she agreed. “But Andrey, if you keep putting me off I’m going to give your number to my brother and all his friends in Tribeca. They all keep nagging me for it.” She laughed.
The girl didn’t give up, that was for sure. “I keep my promises,” Andrey said.
I try to, at least.
“Good,” Kathy said. “Because work’s been so boring lately that I need a little excitement in my life.”
I’ve had enough excitement lately for the both of us, trust me.
“You mean
you consider helping me reconnect with the system boring?” Andrey half joked, wanting to get the conversation back to business.
No such luck. “Yeah, right,” Kathy replied. “You know where my boss is right now? A briefing on a new drug that may or may not suppress Evolved powers. See? That shit is interesting.”
That got Andrey’s attention. He had heard rumors about the drug. Power Zero, as highly sensitive documents named it. Only a handful of people had even heard the rumors so he was surprised Kathy had the security clearance to know about it at all, but she did have a reputation for temporarily disabling certain security protocols in order to sate her curiosity.
“Athena’s still looking into Power Zero?” he asked. As far as he knew, it was the pipe dream of one of the owners of a big pharmaceutical company who wanted to get rich on the backs of desperate governments. “I thought those rumors were disproved months ago.”
“It was,” Kathy replied breezily. “But you know politicians. They would rather believe approval polls than science.”
He was about to ask who knew about the hoax when the AI interrupted with a message. “Connection to Olympus established,” Iris announced from the monitor loudspeakers. “Installing missing resources.” The progress bar leaped ahead to ninety-five percent.
Andrey watched the on-screen updates with idle interest, understanding little about the code passing in front of his eyes. He never had many opportunities to watch Athena work, but there was a special kind of magic to what she could do. She was restoring his connection to Olympus, to who he had been before everything went to hell.
One hundred percent.
“Set-up complete,” Iris informed. “Opening gateway to Olympus. Welcome back, Andrey. You are reconnected to Olympus’s communication protocols. In addition to the communication lines, the candy box is now available.”
The candy box?
An icon appeared on the screen, prompting Andrey to stare at it in amazement. It looked like a clip-art version of the heart-shaped box of chocolates Alexandra kept on her TV table for their rare romantic evenings together.
He covered the earpiece of the phone with his hand. “Iris, what’s in the candy box?”
“It contains a limited mirror of Olympus data,” Iris informed him through the speakers. “It was created twelve hours, seventeen minutes and forty-two seconds ago. You do not have full access to Olympus, but you may view any data stored within the candy box. Be aware that the mirrored environment disables all communication protocols.”
A warm feeling spread through him. You might not be talking to me, Alexa, but you’re giving me access to Covenant data.
The files stored here were much more comprehensive than the material Iris would have retrieved for him. They could make all the difference for him and his family, and he wished he could thank Alexandra in person.
The idea of her purposefully shutting Iris down felt more and more unlikely. He couldn’t imagine her doing it now, preferring to suspect that sabotage was to blame. Someone who meant to separate him from his old friends and colleagues.
“Andrey? Andrey?!”
The muted sound of Kathy’s voice yanked his attention back to the phone in his hand. He lifted his palm off the mouthpiece and brought the phone to his ear. “Hey, I’m here. And I’m online.”
“Well, you can thank your favorite systems manager for that. Seriously, I mean it. You’re welcome, handsome.”
Andrey felt a smile tug at the edge of his mouth. “Thanks, Kathy. I mean it. You’ve helped take a load off my mind. Who knows, I might even sleep now.”
“Well, I’m always happy to help. But don’t forget about our future date, okay?”
I don’t think you’ll ever let me forget it.
“Please call if you discover anything new,” he said instead.
“Sure will. And if you can’t sleep after all, you know who to call.”
“Right,” he evaded. “Goodbye for now, Kathy. And thanks.”
He disconnected before unlocking the top desk drawer with the small key that dangled from his wrist. He pulled open the drawer and set the cell phone beside Gentleman’s white-and-gold device. When both phones were locked away, he turned his attention back to the screen.
A double click on the candy box icon revealed over a terabyte of data that he and the Covenant had collected over the years. Power lists, transition patterns, villain and rogue backgrounds, footage of recorded battles, and more.
Andrey skimmed over the full list of files before scrolling to the file folder entitled Gntlmn and double-clicking on it. Thanks to Data’s purging of the Internet, Gentleman’s folder contained less data than most of the others. The small number of files made it easy to locate the videotaped interview that crossed his mind before—filmed by a New York news channel in the spring of 2011, not long before the villain’s transition.
The devil unmasked.
He clicked on NWInterview2011.mpg and waited for the video file to load. When it finished loading, he fast-forwarded through the introductory questions and pressed play on the part he previously noted as particularly interesting.
“…considered for a supplementary role in Andrews’ upcoming modern adaptation of Camelot,” the interviewer said. “How do you feel about returning to the stage as a common soldier after portraying a ruler? Your adaptation of King Richard was praised as, I quote, ‘an epiphany of brilliance, unique and outstanding.’”
Scott DeLuca, the young man who would become Gentleman, stroked his cheek with a finger, his eyes glittering with amused mischief. Without powers or a mask, his appearance was startlingly normal. He was a lanky, dime-a-dozen Broadway actor with straight brown hair and unremarkable features, but had a hint of a devil’s knowing smile.
“I assume you’re expecting me to tell you how I’m looking forward to being part of this new show,” the actor said, haughty. “How Andrews is a genius, and how I’m going to turn a footman into a hero? I’ll do nothing of the sort.”
“No?” the interviewer asked, perplexed. “Could you elaborate?”
The actor crossed one leg over the other, lacing his long, delicate fingers over one knee and leaning closer to his interviewer. “Gladly. I’m going to tell you a secret,” he whispered, barely loud enough to be heard by the video camera. “I will die an unremarkable actor’s death and rise from the ashes as the director the world is currently lacking.”
“You believe there aren’t enough directors?”
DeLuca’s smile froze. “No. What we lack are directors with an eye for the perfect role. For reality. For potential.” The stage actor paused before continuing his impromptu monologue.
“You see, anyone with a smidgen of a soul has the potential to shine. To be brilliant. Perfect, even.” He let the word roll off his tongue, eyelids lowering as if to savor the sound of it. “You could take a John Doe with no acting experience, and if you gave them the perfect role, the audience would weep like it had never wept before. That’s perfection on stage, you see. The real challenge lies in the potential, in knowing the one role that will bring out the best in whoever fate sets up to walk on the stage. Now that is the divinity of directing.”
Pompous blowhard.
Andrey paused the video for later reference and closed out of the candy box to check his email. He opened a new message with the subject line Now what? As suspected, it was from Rune.
Andrey, I’ve contacted you like you asked, so now the ball is in your court. Get back to us with whatever information you can bring to the table.
Rune. Short and to the point.
Andrey considered his reply for a minute before typing a response. Halfway through, an idea struck him so he opened access to his Olympus-protected storage cache to retrieve a digital family photo and attach it to his e-mail before he continued writing.
I only now have online access, and more complications have come up. Give me twenty-four hours. In the meantime, here’s a photo of my mother, my brother and his wife, and my nephew. They might be i
n danger. If Aura could warn me if their colors change, I would owe you another one.
-A
When Andrey pressed send, he noticed the blinking icon of his virtual answering machine. A quick check of the call log revealed one missed call from an unknown caller. Judging from the number, it had been routed through Athena’s personal high-priority line.
His fingers froze over the mouse. The message couldn’t be from Athena or it would have listed her as the caller. So why was she allowing ‘Unknown’ use her personal line? He stared at the number for half a minute before opening the call, preparing himself for another villain’s threats. Instead, the voice over the line belonged to a young American woman.
“Um … hello,” she said. “This is Mascot, of the Wardens. Athena asked me to contact you.”
7.5 Beacon
Valle de Bravo, Mexico
Thursday, the 14th of June, 2012
2:52 p.m.
“If you’d like to get back to me, that’s cool. So, yeah. Okay. Bye!”
The call ended there, leaving Andrey with a sense of wheels turning fate in his favor. Alexandra was still on board with helping him achieve what he committed to doing. Between this and planting the candy box, she let him know that she still cared in her own way. He wasn’t sure he deserved her support, but he was grateful all the same.
“Welcome aboard, Mascot,” Andrey murmured to himself. The novice heroine’s name rang more than a few bells. He couldn’t remember what she looked like, but that was easy enough to fix.
He opened his Internet browser to do a search for “Mascot” and “Wardens.” The top five results were news articles, and all of them featured the villain attack on New York from a few days ago. He skimmed over the facts he already knew because his interest was focused on the bear-costumed girl’s role during the events at the stadium.
She took out Mirage by blindly charging around the stadium, breaking her own arm in the process? Andrey read over the related paragraphs twice.
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