"It might fit. Imagine being with someone who could kill you with a misplaced kiss..."
"But what a way to go." He raised a hand against her glare. "Seriously, I know what you mean. Saying you 'have protection' could take on a whole knew meaning with powerful augments."
"That's what I'm saying." Jamie tried but failed to find any humor in the situation. "I could sneeze and cut someone in half."
"I think you might be exaggerating slightly, Jamie. With a little caution, I'm sure two people of even wildly disparate strengths could make it work."
"You think."
"I do."
Jamie sipped her beer and tried not to grin.
The room had continued to fill, crowding into the tables around them. The buzz of conversation was now louder than the music. At the top of conversation food-chain was Hulk's booming voice – he was barely restraining his super-powered vocal chords – and a few other men were raising their voices in a testosterone arms race.
Belinda was surrounded by eager suitors at the bar, and even Tildie had attracted a good-looking young man, presumably a lower unit agent, flush-cheeked with eagerness to charm as he laughed too loudly at something she'd said.
"Let's get out of here," said Zach. "My eardrums are starting to bleed."
"Okay."
They stopped at the bar to pay their bill, but the mustachioed bartender waved them off. "Your money's no good here."
Outside the bar, the mall was as quiet as a library. They strolled along to nowhere in particular. The shops had closed, but the restaurants remained open.
"Want to get something to eat?" Zack asked.
Jamie shook her head. "I think I'll just go back to my room. Maybe get some rest. Or just some peace."
"I understand. I'm sure it's been one hell of a long day. I'll walk with you."
Jamie started to protest, to tell him she wanted to be alone, but the words refused to form.
They caught the elevator down to the fourth level, much of which was dedicated to housing, and Zach walked her to her door.
"Well, have a good night," he said, his voice thick with regret and perhaps something else. "See you tomorrow, or at some point soon."
"Yeah."
Zach started to back away, but seemed to run into a wall, as if Jamie's thought that he shouldn't leave had taken material form.
"Uh, Jamie..."
"Yes?"
"Could I come in? A nightcap, maybe?"
"Can we be honest? Are you thinking of something more than a nightcap?"
"I'm afraid I am. Very afraid, actually."
Jamie stepped back and held the door open for him. Her super-powerful hand was trembling. Stay calm, she commanded herself. He squeezed past her. She followed.
They both ran out of momentum in the middle of her living room. They faced each other. Jamie felt herself sinking into his grey-blue eyes, imagined herself curling up under his long eyelashes. He reached out and touched her cheek. She closed her eyes. Then his lips were touching hers. She parted her lips to him and gently, gently returned his caressing kiss.
Her moan seemed to come from somewhere and someone else. But she recognized her own voice and what the sound meant. She had a flashback to her honeymoon night with Dennis. Her eyes jolted open and she started to back away, but he held her shoulders, stopping her, his strength surprising her. Or maybe that was wishful thinking?
"Why don't you just let me?" he asked. "I mean, let me make you feel good?"
"I want you to feel good, too."
"Don't worry. I will."
He slowly undid her blouse. She slipped out of her jeans. He shed his pants and shirt and eased in against her. He wrapped her arms around her waist. She placed her hands on his shoulders, careful not to squeeze. They stood that way for what seemed to Jamie like hours, his hard bulge against her, her legs melting against him.
"Bedroom?" he whispered.
"Yes."
Jamie led him in. They dropped down on her space-age foam mattress. It wouldn't have mattered to her body if it was made of stone, but she liked the theoretical comfort of it. Idle thoughts as he ran his fingers over her breasts and down her sides. She shivered. Pain might be a distant memory – physical pain - but thank God she could still feel pleasure.
He continued to stroke her. She didn't look at him directly. Too intense. But she watched him in a wall mirror. Watched them. It reinforced the out-of-body experience she was having.
He maneuvered over her and slowly, cautiously, found his way in. The sensation almost made her squeeze. Relax. She closed her eyes and concentrated on loosening every muscle in her body – especially the ones down there. The waves of pleasure built despite that, or perhaps because of it?
She watched her climax approach like a deadly tsunami rolling in far out from shore. Her muscles began to battle her enforced relaxation. No –
"Get off," she whispered.
"I am!"
"No." She clenched her fists against the irresistible tide. "I mean – get off me!"
With a terrible groan, Zach rolled off her body. And then the tsunami struck. She gasped as waves of convulsing super-powered muscle rolled up and down her rigid body.
"Oh God," she groaned.
"Holy fuck," Zach rasped. "Are you all right?"
For several long moments, Jamie thought that was an open question. Would she be the first Augmented American to die of an orgasm?
She focused on slowing her breathing. Her spasms gradually weakened and then flowed back out with the tide. She sprawled, unmoving, her body a warm pool.
Zach stretched out beside her, one forearm brushing up against hers, and joined her in worshipping the ceiling. Jamie was floating in a place so wonderful that words would stain. She was in no hurry to leave. Zachary seemed to feel the same way. The light shimmering in from the living room had a velvety sheen.
"Huh," he said finally, as if honestly mystified.
"Mmmm."
"That was my first sex as an augmented person. I don't know if it was me or you or both, but...that was crazy."
"It was..." Jamie paused. "Almost too good. Maybe not 'almost.'"
"Yeah." He clasped her right hand tentatively. "But we proved it can be done, didn't we?"
"Well..." She didn't return the squeeze of his hand. "It was close. If you'd stayed in...on me..."
"I might be missing a crucial appendage?"
"I'm not joking."
"I'm not, either." He released a quiet laugh. "But you have to admit, it's kind of funny. You know, the situation."
Jamie smiled. She felt a laugh burbling up – or maybe it was a sob – and was afraid if she let it burst out of her it might blow out the ceiling. She choked it back to a gargling chuckle.
"Yes," she said. "The situation."
"I think we could make this work."
Jamie didn't dare to reply. Zach rolled to face her.
"Did you know that everyone we've tested has extreme regenerative capabilities? I mean, maybe extreme enough to re-grow limbs. Two of your people had lost body parts – one part of a thumb, the other two toes – and they seemed to be coming back only a few hours later in the medical ward."
"But Terry and his father, and the other healers, worked on them."
"That's the other possibility. Still, Thomas Mayes Senior said that he 'sensed' the bodies rebuilding themselves. It makes sense, doesn't it, given the way the nanocytes reconstructed us? Even the Object was self-healing."
"Nearly half of my team died, so I don't think you can count on the nanovirus saving you."
"Maybe not." He gave her a slow smile. "But I'm willing to take my chances."
Chapter 18
THE DARE REGISTRATION TEAMS started showing up in towns and cities throughout the United States two weeks later – four weeks after the Augmented Americans Registration and Regulation Act had passed. Registration agents fanned out across the country, going door-to-door like Census workers – or Jehovah's Witnesses – interviewing and form-fi
lling with those nice enough to open their doors and let them in.
Not everyone was that nice. Some refused to answer their doors or to acknowledge the business cards and brochures left behind. Others opened their doors but refused to answer any questions, citing their Fourth Amendment rights. A few told the registration agents that if they returned they'd hurt them. More and more people were gaining superpowers, and for some great power came with a greatly lowered tolerance for taking guff.
This despite the newspaper articles and news programs applauding DARE's raid on the Los Diablos Marrones, which was lauded as the first step in "taking back America." The Team One members who hadn't survived were hailed as "fallen heroes," and those who did survive as "true superheroes."
With great power also could come a great pain in the ass, Jamie thought, lowering her tablet with the latest story about the Augmented Americans for Freedom protest in Nevada still shining on its screen. She and Team One were back on the move – headed toward the Nevada protest in their own private jet with instructions to support the registration agents as necessary.
In the seat beside her, Tildie looked up from her own tablet and rolled her eyes.
"They're sending us in to break up a bunch of peaceful protesters?" she said. "Can you say 'overkill'?"
"The idea is to stop any killing or violence by the sheer magnificence of our presence."
"Who could argue with that?" Tildie laughed.
Jamie aimed a wistful smile out the jet window back toward their Virginian headquarters and the man who waited there. 'Magnificence' was not a typical word-choice for her, but after being with Zachary she felt inspired. Three weeks of bliss later, he – they – were still intact, knock on hardened titanium alloy.
Now they were beginning a slow descent toward Reno, Nevada in a modified Boeing 767 equipped with expanded communications and telemetry, comfortable, spacious seating, and even a bar. And a bulkhead filled with food. Not all augmented individuals were food-free.
Jamie glanced around at the new team members she was just starting to know. The number of their Team had been set at fifty – fifty plus one since their team now included an augmented medical officer, which in this case was her former neighbor, Terry Mayes. Jamie was very happy to have him aboard.
IED Director Boltman and Mort had gone into overdrive testing and selecting the twenty-two individuals who would replace and add to the numbers lost. They had consulted Jamie a few times, but more as an afterthought, it seemed. The number of applicants, both from within and without, had soared after "The Battle of East L.A.," as the newsmongers had dubbed it. Plenty of people with strange and awesome powers to choose from.
With a few noteworthy exceptions, most of the new recruits were flyers and possessed at least moderate telekinetics. The prevailing belief was that flight and telekinesis offered the most advantages. Also, Mort and Boltman heavily favored people with "projectile weapons." They had six more people with fire and beam abilities, four of them flyers.
One young woman, Denise Rogers, was a flyer who could freeze things that she could see in the blink of an eye. Things as large as an SUV. As was the case with most "projectilers," it was an all or none power. Naturally, she'd been nicknamed "Ice Queen," and looked the part with her black hair, white skin, and frosty expression. And of course she was drop-dead gorgeous.
Another guy – a "grounder" – used his voice as a sonic weapon, with remarkable control: his pitches could destabilize anything from hardened steel to a paper bag with pinpoint accuracy. A slim woman, their oldest new member at forty-seven and also a grounder, was nearly as fast as Blur, with a medium telekinetics range.
Perhaps the strangest power of the recruits belonged to Joy Kamada, who'd suffered from extreme schizophrenia for most of her young life. She was the girl from Foreigner's "Head Games" come nightmarishly to life: with a single thought she could scramble someone's mind. Jamie had experienced Joy's special talents, which was something like receiving a bad concussion plus a massive dose of LSD. For several seconds she suffered the worst imaginable fate: the loss of herself. There was a scant second when she might've lashed out, but then she had no idea who or where she was. Or what she was. Not an experience she ever wished to repeat.
Jamie was heading a team that could freeze, incinerate, disintegrate, and discombobulate – or just plain rip you apart. She didn't envy anyone who would stand against them. Though perhaps she was choosing to be optimistic. They had no guarantee that their applicants represented the most powerful beings out there. A possibility she didn't like to dwell on.
"Jamie!" Tilda tore her from her thoughts. "We're about to be struck!"
"By what?"
A flash from the ground caught Jamie's eye. She was about to dismiss it as a reflection when a swath of light sliced through the left wing and the jet lurched sideways. Jamie's face smacked into the window and she watched the wing spiraling toward the ground.
The plane itself was diving into a spiral. Jamie straightened it out with a thought. More beams, different colors, sliced through the plane. Three or four agents cried out. Smoke billowed out from the front cabin, carrying the smell of burned metal and flesh.
The cockpit split away from the plane. Jamie brought it back. But now the jet was splitting into multiple sections. She willed it to stay together and rise en masse into the cumulus clouds they'd just descended through. The beams ceased.
"I saw them!" shouted Jerry Markham, a former Air Force pilot and new recruit with telescopic vision along with his sonic weapon. "Two or three people in the air, one on the ground. They were moving away, heading north just as we hit the clouds."
The plane had stabilized and was no longer moving. Jamie sensed other telekinetics were in play, holding things together. She stood up.
"I'm going down. Jeremy, you're in charge. Terry, look after the wounded." Apart from Terry's grim nod, most of the team looked confused and shell-shocked. A few, like Hulk and Jake, looked pissed off and resentful. No time to deal with them. "Just keep the plane here for now. Tildie, you're with me."
Jamie tried to open the emergency exit door, but got impatient and simply blew it off. She and Tilda leaped into the air. Tildie might not be the strongest, but she was bright, sensible, and damn hard to hurt because of her precognition. Her vision was also as good or better than Jamie's.
"There they are!" she called, pointing as they burst side by side through the clouds.
Jamie spotted them: four specks flying in four directions. Could've been large birds except for the blazing speed and lack of wings. Another speck on the ground that was moving far too fast for any animal or vehicle.
"Take the one flyer heading west," she said. "I'll get the runner."
She dived on the runner, wondering at the intelligence of her decisions so far. She could've called for more people and pursued the other three flyers, but her instinct was to keep her "guns" in the holster as much as possible to avoid firefights that could consume civilians. Besides, all it took was capturing one or two of the attackers and they'd lead them to the rest.
Jamie descended swiftly on the runner, who was blazing a roadrunner path through the Nevada desert. She guessed he was traveling three or four hundred miles per hour. Not as fast as Jeremy/Blur, but fast enough to be more flying than running. She willed him to slow. He didn't. She willed harder. No effect at all.
Impervious to telekinetics. That was a new one. A trickle of fear tweaked her. You just never knew what you were up against these days. Someday everyone might be classified and she'd know exactly where she and everyone else stood in the augmented universe, but until then it was the Wild West and your opponent might have a six-gun or an atomic fusion disrupter.
Jamie moved a boulder in front of him. He sprang easily to one side, cocking his head up and around to spot her fifty meters above him and closing. While he stared up at her, she raised a house-sized mound of sandy dirt in his path.
Smack! He hit the mound full-on going three hundred-plus miles per hou
r. He was sprawled flat on his face when she dropped down beside him. Incredibly, he was reviving, starting to push himself up, regarding her with wild but determined eyes. Jamie was startled to see he was a boy, fourteen or maybe fifteen.
"I'm Agent Shepherd, IED," she said. "You're under arrest. Stay down and I won't injure you."
The boy exploded into her. Probably jumped, but it happened too fast to tell. As she flew through the air from the force of the impact, he scrambled around to her back and wrapped an arm around her throat. She reached for his arm, but it was gone and something thumped into the side of her head – hard enough to raise a hint of grey. She dropped to the ground. He landed on top of her, punching her in the face. She punched back half-blindly, but he wasn't there.
Too fast. Jamie pushed to her feet. The youth was circling her like a jet-powered merry-go-round. Jamie could move at incredible speed but didn't have the calculational hardware to go with it, unlike some of the fast-movers. Including, it seemed, the boy now pummeling her. Jeremy would be better-suited for this one. Still, he'd hit her with everything he had – she hoped – and hadn't really hurt her. He was more of a pesky fly than a real threat. She just needed a fly swatter.
He seemed to lack telekinetics. That was her ace in the hole.
She raised a circle of sand around her. Her opponent started coughing. Yes! She spun toward the cough in time to see the boy spring high to the top of a nearby boulder. He stood there panting for a moment, appearing to gather his energy.
The blue-green beam seemed to originate from his chest. The instant Jamie saw the hint of light she was airborne – one hundred, two hundred, three hundred meters above him – the beam scorching the ground where she'd been, starting a small brush fire. He was twisting, directing the beam upward after her, but as quick as he was, it was an awkward motion and she was too fast. She flew to a rock outcropping behind him, crouching out of sight while he jerked around like a puppet on a spastic string searching for her. After a few seconds of that, he slumped to one knee.
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