Omega tgitb-5

by Robert J. Crane

  “Of course.” He took a deep breath and reached for the water in the little plastic opaque cup he’d left on the end table by the bed. “I always wondered if the next time you lost your memory, the serum we gave you would work. It was always experimental, you know, but supposed to keep everything there, a layer under the surface, so that when the life drained out of you from overuse of your powers—your good heart, you never could keep from using too much of yourself—it’d be like shuffling your personality to the bottom of the deck. And now, back to the top again.” He took a sip of water, felt it roll around on his tongue, cleanse his palate. “Back to yourself.”

  “I know who I am now,” she said.

  “Of course you do, my dear,” he said, “but you were never in doubt, given the time to come back to us. It’s her we need to talk about now.” A slight sigh came from the slender girl, and he felt the press of more weight upon his leg. “Now, now, don’t be jealous. I’m only here to help her in her…transition. As I helped you, once.” He looked down into her green eyes. “Come now, Klementina, this is such an unexpected and fortuitous thing, having you call us as you did, having you escape the Directorate as you did now, at this time. Surely, if it is as you say, and you remember why you worked with us in the past, things have not changed for you…have they?”

  She lay her head sideways upon his knee and sighed again. “No. I haven’t forgotten. And I understand she’s important, but—”

  “No buts,” Janus said. “She is important. You need not understand all of it, but know that she is just as important as the last one. This whole operation, the entirety of Stanchion, it was for her.” He held up a hand to forestall argument when he saw the lips purse, the cheeks redden, the whole face turn pouty. “Listen. Stanchion was first priority, but don’t think that it was my only concern. I would have done right by you. We would have accomplished our mission,” he checked his watch, “which we still will, and thank you, my dear, for making this interminable wait so much more bearable by coming back to me. But we would have done it all—put the Directorate out of the picture, placed Sienna Nealon just where we wanted her, and we would have extracted you at the same time, brought you back to yourself, dispensed with that ridiculous identity you’ve taken on, this—Katrina Forrest that you had become—”

  “Kat,” she said, her naked body pressed against the leg of his pants, almost wrapped around it like a coiled snake, the green in her eyes flashing with the light of the motel sign. “They called me Kat.”

  22.

  Sienna

  I lay in my bed, alone, as the shadows crept across the floor again. It was quiet. I wouldn’t say too quiet, because I knew it was nearing nightfall and the admin staff had been absent all day, but it was definitely not the Directorate I was used to. Any of the meta kids who had tenable home situations had been shuffled back to their parents or relatives. Most of them lived in small towns, dedicated meta communities anyway, so the cloisters would be better protection for them than the campus at this point. It was a calculated risk, but it didn’t seem likely that Omega would be interested in tracking down meta kids when the Directorate was their primary enemy. Only the orphans remained here on campus with the rest of us.

  A pall had settled over the place; it was starting to look abandoned, the falling leaves taking over the campus in volume and numbers that hadn’t been a problem back when we had a grounds crew. The whole place seemed empty without most of the people, even though I didn’t associate with almost any of them. It was worse knowing Reed and Scott were gone. I thought about visiting Kat and dismissed the idea as patronizing, as though I were trying to force some sort of empathy out that I didn’t really feel.

  I waited for sleep to come claim me, wondered if it would. I hadn’t heard from Bastian or Parks all day, which I took as a good sign; they were supposed to call if the world started to end around us. Personally, I suspected that would be something I wouldn’t need a lot of heads-up about. When Omega came, I kinda thought I’d know the hour and minute it started to happen. It wasn’t going to be subtle. Not this time.

  My phone lit up and I pulled it off the nightstand at the first beep. The screen lit up when I thumbed the power button, and I swiped my finger across the message icon to bring up a text message. It was from Zack.

  All other Directorate campuses evacuated and shuttered except Arizona. Will be by in a little while, finishing up a meeting with Kurt .

  I sighed and lay the phone on my chest. I wanted him here with me now, not later. It felt like the next breath stuck in my lungs, caught there, like a stitch in my ribs, a pain I couldn’t dispense with. I wanted this over, even if it was going to end badly. When problems came at me, my philosophy was to confront them, because if you fear something and you charge into it anyway, odds were good you wouldn’t fear it for very long. Unless “it” was actually something gravely harmful, like a running chainsaw, in which case…yeah, I suppose you’d still fear it even after running into it once.

  The stars were starting to come out to play now, and I lay on top of the bedspread, waiting. I looked at the deepening purple of the sky, the first twinkles of light out above the orange fade of the horizon, and I wondered again how long it would be. Wondered why they were coming for me. And then I wondered what Mom was up to. That one was really strange.

  I saw the first sparkle of light on the horizon, a red light hanging over the campus like a falling crimson star, and I watched it descend with steady regularity past my window. No surprise attack, no explosions, no metas gone wild streaming across the lawns in attack formation. Just a flare. A simple, red flare, falling onto the south lawn. I watched it go, the very thought prickling my mind—we didn’t use flares, didn’t need flares, we had freestanding light posts all around the campus to illuminate the whole thing if we wanted it done—

  I heard the heater cut out, the lights all died out in the main room. I heard the quiet, reassuring hum of electricity stop all throughout the building, followed by the last few dying sounds of the warm air pushed through the heat exchange. The vent above me quit making the whooshing noise that was incredibly loud to meta ears as it pushed out the last of its warm air.

  A moment later, the first explosion rocked the campus.

  23.

  I was off and running, my feet carrying me down the stairs. I saw no one in the hallway outside my quarters, not Scott, not Kat, and none of M-Squad. I raced across the lobby, the lights casting dark shadows over the faces of people clumped inside, watching out the glass front of the building. As I shoved my way through a (very) small crowd, I saw Kurt Hannegan near the doors. “Keep ‘em safe,” I said to him as I passed, and got a nod from the big man in return. I paused at the entrance to the lobby, about to go out the front door. “Where’s Zack?”

  “HQ,” he said. “Got a call from Old Man Winter a few minutes ago to run over there; he’s in charge of us, now.”

  “You’re in charge here ‘til he gets back, right?” I asked, and watched him think about it for a second.

  “Yeah.” Hannegan nodded, his jowls rocking in the motion. “Explosion sounded like it came from the science building.”

  “On my way. You might wanna lock the doors behind me.”

  Hannegan didn’t even bother to sneer. “You really think a lock’s gonna keep Omega out?”

  I ran out the door, the cold night air cutting across me. The skies had turned overcast while I wasn’t looking, clouds moving in and darkening the sky further. It was night, blackest , the light of the nearby town shining off the clouds, miles away. I cut around the side of the building and stopped as my eyes beheld the spectacle in front of me.

  The science building, the new and shining gem of the Directorate campus, was in flames—again—fire roaring where it had stood, as though it had been entirely replaced by an inferno. I ran, feet crunching in the leaves, the orange hues cutting through the blackness of the campus night, not sure if I should be afraid or not as I ran toward the destruction.

  I sl
owed as I grew closer, and halted about forty feet from the entrance to the building. I saw a lone body on the ground on the walkway. I ran to it and fell to my knees, rolling the corpse over and smothering the fire that was licking at it. It was scorched up and down it, the flames having had a good bit of time to work.

  It was Doctor Sessions, I realized from the half of a face that remained. I had pulled him from the flaming wreckage of the last science building still alive and he had been healed by Kat. This time, I realized, staring into the dead eyes of the doctor, there would be no last-minute healing, no ultimate salvation. I took off my glove and held my fingers to his wrist, trying to feel for a pulse against the burnt and blackened skin; there was none.

  I stood, listening over the sound of the crackling fire, my eyes searching the campus for movement and finding none. I flinched as another explosion echoed across the grounds, and realized that this time it was the gymnasium, the brick building consumed in another blast of flame and wreckage. Pieces of brick and flecks of glass and paper rained down around me and I covered my head to shield myself from the falling detritus. A moment later, another explosion came and I watched the training center, the place where I had spent so many hours honing my skills, vanish in an orange-red conflagration that streaked up into the sky under a billowing black cloud.

  I stood there, the night air eating at me under my jacket, feeling my hands sweat and chill in my gloves. I tried to gather my thoughts. I had no idea what was causing the explosions, whether it was a meta or some sort of bomb, but so far they seemed to be hitting the most abandoned areas of the campus. Since I hadn’t seen motion between the buildings, it seemed most likely that a bomb was responsible, rather than a meta like Gavrikov. I ran a hand through my hair and thought about the quietest buildings on the campus, thought about Zack, and the cold consumed me. I ran for the headquarters building, my feet pounding underneath me as I ran faster than I thought I ever had.

  I hit the lobby, throwing open the glass door and dashing into the foyer. The place was quiet, but a single door was open in the distance, emergency lighting washing out of it—the stairs. I cursed and drew my pistol. I ducked into the back stairwell, using my gun to cover the angles as I descended. There was no noise from above me, but below I could hear something, motion, voices. I came down, the eerie floodlights giving me enough light to see by. I pointed my weapon down the long hall as I came to the bottom of the stairs. I could see movement down there, and the conversation was clear now.

  “Come down, Sienna Nealon,” came the voice of a shadow, standing in the middle of the hallway. “Yes, I know it’s you, I can see you in the light. Like a little angel, really.”

  “So…” I said, and cleared the corners as I entered the hall, waiting to see if someone was going to attack me. I couldn’t see ahead very well, and it looked almost like there was only the one figure waiting for me, a man, older, but still just one man. “Are you Janus?”

  “Ah, she already knows my name!” He sounded insufferably pleased. “No need for introductions, then, straight to the point. They told me you were clever, and I believed them, but this…this is exceptional, really.” His accent was European, but I couldn’t quite place it.

  “It’s still considered polite to introduce yourself.”

  “Ah, so right,” he said, as I closed in on him, stopping about fifteen feet away. “Where are my manners? My name is Janus, and I am here…to help you with a very difficult transition. Now, you need not be afraid, because I’m not here to hurt you, or threaten you or…any of that useless piffle you’ve experienced from Omega in the past.” He waved a hand, as if dismissing those thoughts. “I am merely here to have a conversation with you.”

  “And then you’ll take my gun?” I asked, letting the itch on my trigger finger hold off.

  “No one is taking your gun away,” Janus said, waving me off again. “At least, no one with me. You keep it, this is only…a conversation. A chance for us to talk, to clear the air.”

  “And will it be a truthful conversation, Janus of the two faces?”

  He smiled, that much I could see in the stark dim light of the hallway. “On my side it will be. On your side…well, that’s really up to you. Now, you needn’t tell me the truth, because I know it, for that’s my gift…my power. But if you feel the need to lie, well, then, that’s entirely on you, and keep in mind that you’ll be the only one in this hallway that you’ll really be lying to.” He seemed to take a breath. “And may I point out, that nickname, the one you’ve heard, about me being two-faced—it’s really not accurate. I always tell the truth, to whomever I’m speaking to. The problem is, sometimes I tell them things they don’t want to hear. Sometimes I stick to the truths that I know they want. Does that make me two-faced, do you think? Sometimes callous and blunt, others light and dancing around the edges of everything they believe?”

  “I guess it kinda makes you selective,” I said, not wavering with the gun. “Why don’t you stick with the ‘whole, unvarnished’ version of the truth for me?”

  “That’s a special kind of truth,” he said. “But if you think you can handle it…sure, why not?”

  “I’ve been able to handle everything you’ve thrown at me so far,” I said. “Why should this be any different?”

  “Ah, yes, well, let’s start with that, the beginning, shall we?” He stretched as though he were looking for a comfortable place to sit, and instead ended up leaning against the wall. “You’ll forgive me for leaning, but I am of an…advanced age, for even my type of meta, and it brings with it…certain…unpleasant side effects. I grow weary, especially in moments such as this.” The ground shook as something exploded in the distance and I turned to look, then darted my eyes back to him as I realized I didn’t want to turn my back on him. “Not to worry, that was just the car garage. We’re trying very hard not to kill anyone.”

  “You’re failing,” I said, teeth clenched. “I just came from the body of Dr. Ronald Sessions. You blew him up with the science lab.”

  “Ah,” Janus said, and it sounded genuinely pained. “That is a shame. You know, let me get this explanation out before we get any farther, because I feel…truly, bad about it. You see, I’m part of the ‘old guard,’ you might call it, of Omega. I detest killing, even when necessary. It’s such…an…unpleasant expression of powers that most men would crave. We’re better people, we should uphold the sanctity of life, even for humans. Now, I explain this because…frankly…you haven’t been dealt with in the fashion that I would have chosen had I been in charge of your case this entire time.”

  “My ‘case’?” I almost scoffed.

  “Yes,” he said. “You see, the…individual who…runs Omega, had gotten some very bad advice from the ‘new guard’ about how to conduct things. The old ways are fading away, and older metas like me, well, we’re not as influential as we used to be. There was a time when I held the ear of the Primus of Omega, when I was first advisor. Now, a chain of failures has elevated me once more, but for a time, I was…persona non grata. And I tell you this because it’s so important that you understand that none of what you’ve seen from Omega came from me. Not Wolfe, not Henderschott, certainly not Fries…none of it.”

  “Because you wouldn’t have unleashed those maniacs, those twits, those sidewinders?” I asked.

  “Certainly not,” he said with an assured shake of the head. “Because you…you are too important to chance to such…creatures, shall we say.”

  “But you did send Bjorn,” I ticked them off in my head, “and Madigan.”

  “Of course I did,” he said. “Naturally.”

  “Um…they failed just as miserably as the ones you didn’t send.”

  “Not at all,” Janus said with a smile, and there was a beep from the phone in my pocket. “Do you need to get that?”

  “It’s a…” I frowned and kept one hand covering him with the gun while I pulled the cell phone out of my pocket and thumbed the text message feature. I had three messages and a missed
call from Zack. I clicked the messages first, my eyes darting from the phone to Janus. “I have messages.”

  “I understand,” he said. “I’ll wait. Personally, I hate those smart phones. Don’t get along with them.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be open to change?”

  He sighed, deeply. “There is a difference between helping others with change and embracing it for oneself. Technology may be my bane, but no matter. Read your messages, and then we shall talk.”

  I flipped through the first, the newest, from Ariadne, to me and all of M-Squad:

  Assemble at dormitory. Protect the students at all costs .

  “We’re not going to attack the dormitory…yet,” Janus said, catching my eye as I jerked my head up. “I’m an empath, of sorts. I can’t read your mind, exactly, but I get the gist of your emotions, and I know where everyone is. They’re safe, for now.”

  “For now?” I asked, and felt the gnawing sense of fear start to eat away at my confidence.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, and I thought he might be trying to sound reassuring, “they’ll be given plenty of opportunity to get out before we destroy the building. If they choose to stay, well, that’s on them, not me, but…they’ll be warned. You can even tell them yourself, if you’d like, once we’re done talking.”

  “You don’t think I’ll be going with you?” I looked at his face over the sights of my gun, wondering if I was doing myself any favors by not pulling the trigger.

  “No, of course not,” he said with a shake of his head, as though it were the most obvious of truths. “Getting you to come with me today was never the purpose of Operation Stanchion.”

  “That’s not what Bjorn said.”

  “Bjorn is a young bull, charging into everything.” Janus bent his head low, as though miming the action of a bull, scuffing his shoe against the tile floor. “He was an excellent distraction for you.”