Strikeforce

by Nick James

  He helped her out of her coat, then rolled it up to fashion a tourniquet and quickly tied it around her leg.

  She pulled herself to a sitting position against the wall, breathing hard.

  “You’ll live,” Cassius said.

  Eva scrambled around the corner, away from what was left of the Ridium missile. “We’re dead. This is suicide.”

  “It’s not.” He stood, glancing to his right. They stood in a small room, connecting the corridor they’d come from with another. Everywhere he looked had the illusion of sunlight, but he couldn’t tell where it was coming from.

  “I can’t walk, Cassius.” Madame grimaced. “It would only—”

  He nodded. “Let me try something.” He moved to the opening and laid his hand on what was left of the wall. Instantly, the hole closed up and they were sealed in. He turned back. “I can definitely control it.”

  Madame stared at him with a pained expression. “What are you saying?”

  “I have to see what else is in here. We’ve come this far.”

  She frowned. “Did you hear me? I can’t walk!”

  “Then stay here,” he countered. “You’re safe enough. Clearly there’s nobody here to find you.”

  Eva winced. “Except that giant missile that just about pulverized us.”

  “Stay with her,” he said. “Make sure no one comes. I’m going up. If there’s a chance I might be able to do something here—”

  Eva shook her head. “This isn’t what I signed up for. Since when do I care—?”

  “Stand guard. Or you’ll deal with me.” He took a deep breath. “Give me fifteen minutes, okay? If I’m not back by then, you can come looking for me. You can even leave her.” He held up his hand. “Or I can seal the two of you in here, with no way out.”

  She sighed, then took a seat across from Madame.

  Cassius nodded. “I thought so.”

  Then, without giving either the chance to argue, he raced from the room and around the corner, eyes open for missiles or anything else the Authority might throw at him.

  18

  I back away from Savon. “This isn’t real. How can this be happening?”

  “Jesse—” He holds out his massive, gloved hand. It’s like he could crush me with it.

  “All this time … every Pearl that fell … I thought it might be the one that brought you to Earth … ”

  “Calm down,” he coaxes.

  “Calm down? My father … the guy I didn’t even know existed anymore … shows up out of the blue and you want me to calm down?”

  He shakes his head. “The excitability comes from your mother. Look, if we were in a position to sit down and have a long, in-depth talk, I’d be happy to do so. As it stands … ” He stops. I glance up and watch him stride toward me, arms out. Before I realize it, he’s got me in an embrace. His bulky arms squeeze tight around my shoulders, so much that I can’t really lift my arms and hug him back.

  I remember one of the Academy teachers spending an entire afternoon telling us about what they called the “emotional stages” of trauma. Death wasn’t exactly a rare thing in our line of work, so they’d wanted to prepare us for anything.

  No one’s died. But even so, I feel like I’m traveling through a hundred stages—landmark after landmark in the space of a few minutes. Shock. Excitement. Intimidation. Disbelief. Even a little bit of anger. My mind doesn’t know how to fit my father in. Try as I might, the thought of him standing here won’t sink in completely.

  He lets go of me, steps back, and stares. I can’t meet his gaze for more than a second, even though I want to.

  “What about … ” I start. “ What about Mom? Is she with you?”

  “No,” he replies quickly. “We were separated before we left Haven. We lost contact.” He pauses, bowing his head. “I don’t know, Jesse.”

  “Do you think she—?”

  “I don’t know.” He cuts me off in a way that signals the end to the conversation.

  I shake my head, trying to push away the increasing dizziness I feel. “This is a lot to take in.”

  He gives an awkward smile. “Did you think I’d been killed? Come now, you should expect better from your father.”

  “I didn’t know what to think.” I briefly meet his eyes. “Oh, man … ”

  He lays a hand on my shoulder. I practically crumble under him. “Jesse. I can’t pretend to know what it was like for you, all these years raising yourself.”

  “I wasn’t—”

  “You and Cassius were alone. Dependent on the whims of humans your mother and I never had the opportunity to meet. You’re incredibly strong. Incredibly resourceful. I couldn’t have done what you have.”

  My shoulders tense. Nobody’s ever spoken to me like this. No one’s ever called me strong, or looked up to me as a survivor. I don’t know how to take it, but I know that it ignites something inside of me that I’ve never felt before.

  “I … I only learned about you a couple months ago.”

  He brings his hand back to his hip. “Then there’s a lot for you to know. But stories will have to wait. We need to find your brother and make a stand against the Authority. It’s the only way.”

  “But—”

  “Don’t tell me you’re the kind of man who takes the easy route,” he interrupts. “Who shirks his responsibilities.”

  I shrug.

  Savon nods. “I thought not. Even without my direct influence, you’ve still got my blood running through you. That ought to be more than enough.”

  “I don’t—” I pause, stumbling on my words. “How did you find me?”

  He looks to the sky. “I came to this world several days ago. Confused and unbalanced. I didn’t know how I’d find you or Cassius until the explosion you unleashed in that city. It was a happy coincidence that I was close enough to feel it. That much Pearl energy doesn’t go unnoticed, especially by the one who created it.”

  “I … I drew you to me?”

  His good eye meets mine, staring.

  “Well,” I mutter. “If I knew it would’ve been that easy … ”

  “Nothing’s ever easy. And nothing happens just because.”

  An awkward silence hangs between us. I picture the man in the photograph, the one Cassius and I had found on our first trip to Seattle. I can’t believe I hadn’t recognized him sooner. The eye patch is new, probably the result of some battle on Haven, but the basic features match. This is my father. The guy I’ve been waiting to find ever since I learned my true identity.

  And now that I’ve found him, what am I supposed to do?

  I never allowed myself to imagine this moment. I could’ve rehearsed it, scripted something to say. But even if I had something written down, I’m sure the words would fail me now. I was so used to being a ward of the Academy.

  Savon grabs my shoulder again. “Listen, Jesse. I don’t want to be a distraction. I know this is sudden, and I know we’ve been separated for many years, but we’re going to have to pull ourselves together. Stay strong in the face of this invasion.” He pauses. “Do you know where Cassius is?”

  I force my mind to stop circling my unfinished thoughts.

  Cassius.

  Even thinking his name gives me an anchor—pulls me back to the reality at hand. “They were headed to Atlas.” I catch myself. “But if the Skyships sank … oh god, they might have been on the ship!”

  “We’ll go there regardless,” Savon responds. “We might be able to help.” He steps back, as if he’s prepared to walk across the entire country to get there.

  “But—”

  “We don’t have a lot of time.”

  “Avery,” I continue. “You promised.”

  He stops. “Yes. Your friend.”

  “If we can stop and check—”

  “Tell me this,” he interrupts. “Do you have access to transportation?”

  “You mean a shuttle?”

  He nods.

  I think back to Portland—our descent to the outsk
irts of the landing pad. Then I remember Skandar. “Oh my god.” The words fall out of my mouth before I realize it. “What if the Authority got Skandar?”

  The question doesn’t seem to register with my father. Either that, or he just chooses to ignore it.

  I stare up at him for a moment, then back to the ground. “We might have a shuttle. My friend back in Portland has our communicator … a direct link to Cassius. If he’s okay, he’ll answer. That’s probably the best chance we have of finding exactly where he is.”

  Savon appraises me in silence before speaking. “Very well. Stick out your hand.”

  “What?”

  He moves his own hand forward, spreading apart the fingers. “Just do it.”

  Hesitantly, I raise my right hand and hold it outstretched. It’s like we’re about to do some weird alien handshake. Of course, under the circumstances, that might be exactly what we’re about to do.

  He clears his throat. “Have you driven?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Ships, shuttles, transport.”

  “Oh.” My mind flashes back to training modules—the few times I’ve actually taken the wheel on Academy ships. I don’t have the heart to tell him how unsuccessful I was. “Sure.”

  “This is similar.” He pushes the palm of his hand against mine. Instantly I feel a suction, like our skin is melding together. The last time I felt something like this was when Cassius and I first met on the rooftop in Syracuse. After the strange suction of our hands, I’d started developing my Pearlbreaking powers.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I have limited Pearl Transport Energy left inside of me. Most Drifters would have used theirs up within minutes, wasting it all in a blind panic. But I’m not most Drifters. Not only can I harness it, but I can transfer some to you.”

  The suction quickly amps up. Another few seconds and it’s all I can do to keep my feet on the ground. But standing in front of him, I don’t want to slip even an inch.

  “It feels warm,” I manage. “Like when I break a Pearl.”

  He nods. “It’s exactly the same. Only up until this point, you haven’t been taught how to harness the energy for flight.”

  “Flight?!?”

  “The effects will be short-lived,” he continues, “but it’ll be enough to give you the boost that I’m currently enjoying.

  Now, pretend that your body is a shuttle. If you’d like to move left, roll to the left. If you want to slow down, lower your feet. Straight arms and legs will allow for faster transport.”

  I swallow. “I’m not so sure this is a good idea.”

  “I’m not going to carry you again,” he says. “Not when this option is available to us.”

  “But you haven’t seen me in action,” I interrupt. “Sometimes I have trouble walking.”

  “You’re my son. I have the highest expectations.”

  “Well … ” I stop myself. If I was talking to anyone else—Captain Alkine, Eva, Mrs. Dembo—I’d have no problem telling them the truth. I’d freely raise my hand and admit that I’m a klutz … a total screwup. But the way he looks at me, the no-is-not-an-answer glare in his eye, makes it impossible.

  The suction settles down. When it stops, we’re forced apart. Savon seems to expect it, and has no trouble standing his ground. Meanwhile, I’m thrown backward, off my feet. I land on my butt, several feet away.

  Savon ignores this. “Ready?”

  “I don’t kno—”

  He raises his right hand into the air, as if conducting music. Instantly I feel a tug on my shoulders. Before I can react, I’m yanked into the sky, tumbling up in curlicues.

  “What the hell?”

  Savon darts into the air beside me. “Straighten your body! Concentrate!”

  The words barely register as they’re whipped away by the wind. Still, I manage to force my legs down. It feels horribly unnatural to extend them without feeling anything underfoot.

  This at least stops me spiraling. But it’s not enough to correct my ascent completely. My arms plunge in diagonals at my sides. When I move them closer to my body, I speed to a breakneck pace. This freaks me out, so I open them again, which slows me so suddenly that I nearly suffer whiplash.

  I don’t look down. I know that the ground is mass far away by now, but I don’t want to see it. It’s easier to picture this as a simulation, that if I were to press a button the whole thing would fade away and I’d land safely on a cushion.

  Savon loops by, stopping right in front of me, matching my pace.

  “Relax.” He shouts to be heard above the wind. “The more you panic, the more difficult you’ll make this on yourself. I’m about to release my hold on you. Focus on staying airborne. Trust that the energy will guide you.”

  I wince. He doesn’t give me a second to prepare before he brings his hand back to his side. Immediately I take a slight tumble, sinking toward the ground. It’s my fear of falling that eventually steadies me. I ball my fists and concentrate on the energy whirring inside of me. I imagine it as a protective shield, a solid disc beneath my feet. I picture green strands of energy forming from the top of my head, pulling me up like ropes. And before I know it, I’m level with my father once more.

  I’m doing it. I’m actually flying.

  Savon laughs, then points toward the horizon on the right. “This way. Do you think you can follow me?”

  My entire body shakes. I keep my arms stretched away from my body, feet firmly pointed down. “I can try.”

  “Don’t try,” he says. “No son of mine tries. We do.”

  With that, he hurtles forward through the air, until he’s a distant speck.

  I close my eyes, take deep breaths, and try to steady my nerves. When I feel less like I’m going to puke up my life, I tilt forward. Then come the arms. Before I know it, I’m a pointed arrow, bolting through the sky just as fast as any ship.

  Only there’s nothing to protect me.

  Cutting through the air is painful, like my body’s drilling through a wall. I keep my head forward, my eyes force closed, so I have to look down.

  It’s not that I haven’t fallen from heights before. I have, and far more often than anybody my age should have. But those times, I never had the luxury of staring at the Surface so long, unencumbered by windshields or glass.

  The brown land stretches below me like a vast, dirt-ridden carpet. I see Fringe Towns every so often, though they look like ant farms from so high up.

  I wait for my body to lurch downward—for the Pearl energy to fail and send me plummeting to the ground. But each second that passes brings with it more security. The nerves begin to die down. The uncertainty all but vanishes, replaced by an exuberance—the kind I haven’t felt in months. For a moment, I feel brave.

  I venture a glance forward to see Savon. He’s nothing but a dark dot from my view, but I’m getting closer to him. Against all odds, I’m keeping up.

  I laugh, even though the wind sweeps it away immediately. Despite the things that have happened, despite the danger and uncertainty that’s surrounding us. Despite Avery and the others. I can’t help myself. I feel bad about it, but I can’t stop.

  I point my fingers and go faster. I dip right to turn, then back again.

  In moments I’m side by side with Savon.

  If I can do this, I can do anything. Me and my father, my father whom I thought I’d never see again. We’re unstoppable—higher than any bird. We have the sky all to ourselves, and a vantage point above any enemy.

  We’ll fight together, me and my dad.

  The Authority’s not going to know what hit it.

  19

  Crash.

  The noise caused Cassius to freeze. He’d nearly scaled the entire vessel without trouble. It was too good to last.

  He balled his fists at this sides, ready to conjure fire if needed. His breathing caught up to him, shallow and exhausted.

  The corridor became quiet once more, even as the echo of the strange crash rip
pled through the spiraled corridors.

  A figure stumbled forward, from around the corner. Cassius took one step back before stopping himself.

  The Drifter reminded him of the one that had found its way into the Nevada bunker. Darkly dressed, with indentations on the armor that stretched from his shoulders to his wrists. But the way he slouched and staggered, Cassius realized immediately that he’d been weakened. Disoriented.

  Once in clear view, the Authority foot soldier straightened his back. For the first time, Cassius could see his crimson eyes.

  Cassius raised his chin, refusing to show weakness. “Who are you?”

  The soldier planted his feet, fingers clenching and unclenching. Nothing more.

  “English.” Cassius shook his head. “You’ve got no idea what I’m saying, do you?”

  As if in response, a black orb—the size of a bowling ball—began to form behind the soldier. He’d most likely had Ridium stored in a belt or pocket, though the substance appeared to have been pulled from nowhere.

  The dark sphere lobbed at Cassius.

  He ducked, moving to the side until his shoulder pushed against the wall. The ball flew well over his head and froze in the air, several feet behind him. He turned to watch it burst and expand into a flat surface—a dark wall that perfectly fit the width of the corridor, sealing any possible exit.

  “So you’re a Shifter.” Cassius turned back. “I’ve been waiting to fight one of you guys again.”

  He felt the sparks move between his fingers. Another moment and his fists burst into flames. It felt good to let loose without concern. A proper brawl.

  The soldier summoned another stash of Ridium from behind him, forging a black whip that shot through the air like a viper.

  Cassius crouched, dodging the Ridium and pushing off against the wall to deliver a jet of fire, engulfing the soldier’s body.

  The soldier staggered back. The whip melted into drips on the ground.

  Cassius raised his fists to deliver another blow.

  The black drops flew up at him, pelting his back. He fell to his knees as the Ridium coalesced around the soldier’s body. It easily snuffed any remaining flames before spreading to the soldier’s extremities, encasing him in a shiny shell of black. Cassius had seen it happen before. Theo had pulled the same trick on Skyship Altair. It had made him nearly unstoppable.