Glimpses

by Vincent Trigili

  “How many?”

  “A dozen.”

  “You better tell me everything you remember. Dates, times, locations, everything.” There had been three blasts so far. The one at the prison was probably two or three bombs of the size Tony normally carried, which meant Samuel had maybe seven or eight more bombs.

  “Look, I had my guys deliver them to Mockingbird Industries on Thirteenth Street. I don’t know what happened to the bombs after that.”

  I picked him back up. “If I find out you lied to me, I will be back,” I said. I threw him to the side and headed out the way I’d come in.

  As I exited the building, I saw three men standing by my cycle. “You best back away from that.”

  They pulled out knives and clubs. “Nah. I think we’re going to take this bike, mister.”

  “That would not be wise,” I said.

  “Yeah, well, no one ever accused me of being real smart,” said one of the men. “Get him, boys!”

  I felt coldness pass through my body as my conditioning took hold of me yet again. There was no logic in that coldness, just a pure desire to kill.

  His two partners charged and I waited for them to close in. Once they were in reach, I spun and launched a kick into the closest thug’s throat, collapsing his windpipe. I continued my spin, and as I came around again I slammed the toe of my boot into the other’s temple. He fell to the ground next to his choking partner and didn’t move.

  “Now,” I said to the remaining thug. “Run and tell everyone you know: the Null has returned.”

  “The Null?” he gasped and sprinted off, leaving his buddies on the ground at my feet.

  I sighed as I climbed back on the cycle and closed the canopy over my head. It wasn’t even lunchtime, and already I was struggling to control the monster that lived inside my heart and had threatened to consume me once before.

  AFTERNOON, DAY TWO: TO KILL OR NOT TO KILL

  I forced myself back to my hideout to eat lunch and attempt to regain some self-control. For the first time since my marriage, I had killed, and I had done it without remorse. This was why I’d retired in the first place. A cold-blooded monster like me doesn’t belong on the streets.

  I leaned back in my chair, holding the picture of my beautiful wife and sweet daughter. My daughter was in her soccer uniform, covered in mud and grass stains. They had just won their championship game; I could still remember the pride we’d all felt that day. Now both of them were in some prison somewhere on my account. I wiped away a tear and choked down the last of my meal.

  Forcing myself to focus on the task at hand, I pulled up the records on Mockingbird Industries. Mockingbird was a multi-national corporation that manufactured weapons for all the major militaries in the quadrant.

  “Why would they need to buy bombs?” I asked myself. Getting answers from them would be a lot harder than roughing up some small-time arms dealer. I searched all my records, looking for anything that would connect them to Samuel, but came up empty.

  Something didn’t make sense here. Dirty bombs weren’t Samuel’s style. I went back to the records of the prison break and checked them again. Sneaking bombs in and detonating them was one thing, but freeing Samuel was a whole different ball game.

  My comm rang, but this time it was my secure line, the one no one should know about. I picked it up slowly. “Hello?”

  “Null, I think you know who this is. You’re being played. Meet me at the Point after dark.” And then Samuel hung up.

  “Well, that doesn’t sound like a trap, “ I said with a chuckle. “Not at all.”

  I grabbed my gear and headed to the Point. I wanted to be there long before dark to prepare.

  As I flew there, a nagging thought kept coming back to me: Samuel never used dirty bombs, and he’d never threatened anyone before. It just wasn’t his style. If he had wanted me to stop pursuing him, he would have just killed me without warning.

  Tony had said that a government agent had purchased the bombs, and that he’d had them delivered to a major government weapons contractor. There was no way that Samuel would ever willingly work with government agents. The story just wasn’t adding up.

  The Point was a tourist trap on Rahar Mountain. The mountain was named for a woman who freaked out, thinking aliens were after her, and ran off the edge trying to get away from them. Her body was never found, but presumably she died in the five-thousand-foot fall. Many legends claim she still haunts the mountains‌—‌which helps keep the place relatively empty after dark.

  I hid my cycle near the meeting point and moved to scout it out. With a few hours of light yet to go, it was still pretty busy. There were families milling around taking pictures and kids playing precariously close to the edge. With so many people around, I couldn’t fully search the place without drawing undue attention. Instead I found a place to hide and wait.

  As dusk fell, another cycle pulled up with a lone driver. Tourists were thinning out quickly, and soon we were alone. I caught a quick glimpse of his face as he turned to check something on his cycle. It was Samuel.

  I slowly took aim with my rifle. One shot and it would be over. I would get my family back, and the Null could die again. Samuel turned his back to me and leaned over the rail, seemingly admiring the scenery. I carefully lined up my sights with the back of his skull. One shot, and the greatest criminal mind of our era would be gone. My body knew what to do without me even thinking about it. I felt my breathing slow, steady. I wouldn’t risk a miss, not even by a millimeter.

  A coldness came over me as I prepared to kill again. The crosshairs of my sight were perfectly centered on target, and I slowly started to pull the trigger back.

  My mind flashed back to a dozen other men and women the government had ordered me to assassinate just like this. With a sigh, I let my finger off the trigger and put the rifle down. I could not allow myself to become that monster again. Shooting a man in the back was wrong, even if it was Samuel.

  I stepped out of my hiding spot and said, “Hello, Samuel.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t shoot,” he said. “I was concerned for a moment.”

  “Why did you call me out here?”

  “I’m not your enemy, at least not today,” he said.

  “What’s going on, then?”

  “There’s an old expression that goes something like: the enemy of an enemy is my friend.”

  “I’ve heard it. Are you implying we have a mutual enemy?”

  “Agent Mikian blew up the prison, your house, and kidnapped your family. What do you think?”

  “But‌—‌why?” I asked.

  He turned and leaned back against the handrail. “To get you to kill me.”

  “If he wanted you dead, he could have done that while you were in prison, in stasis,” I said.

  “I was never in prison. No more than you were dead.”

  “What?” That seemed impossible. I had visited his cryotube. I had seen his body and read the monitors that gave reports on his health.

  “I faked that so that I could disappear, just as you did,” he explained. “They made us monsters, and now they’re hoping we’ll kill each other off and solve their problem.”

  Samuel and I were products of a secret, selective breeding program. We both had natural psionic powers that the vast majority of the race couldn’t even dream of, not even with all the implants in the world. We were intended to be super-soldiers, and were trained to be killing machines, but both of us escaped the program. Samuel to a life of crime, I to vigilante justice.

  “So you’re saying this whole thing was staged?”

  “Is that so hard to believe? We represent a smear on their perfectly planned society, one they mean to be done with.” He took something out of his pocket and held it out to me.

  I took it and felt a twinge on my heart when I saw it. “This is Mother’s locket.”

  “Yes,” he said. “Keep it as a peace offering.”

  “What about my family?”

  “I d
oubt you’ll be permitted to see them again,” he said. “Now that they think they have a way to control you, your family will never be safe.”

  I knew that was true, but I didn’t know what I could do about it. I joined him at the railing. “You and I had some good fights, you know.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why should I believe you?”

  “Because your family is in danger. Stop chasing me and rescue them.”

  “And you?”

  “I plan to send a message to the agents never to bother me again,” he said. “It would be best if you and your family are clear when that happens.”

  “Where are they being held?” I asked.

  “Basement of Mockingbird Industries. But I should warn you, they have plenty more bombs and intend to use them all, if need be.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “You’re a hero, remember?” he said. “Heroes can be controlled by threats to innocents. Villains like myself suffer no such weakness.”

  “Hence why they want you dead.”

  “And you back under their control.”

  “You still haven’t told me why you want to help me.”

  He turned and looked into my eyes. “Brother, we are family. In times like this, that is reason enough.”

  “That, and if I’m not trying to kill you, there’s no one that can stop you,” I said.

  “Yes, that too. But what is more important to you? Taking me down, or saving your family?”

  “I could do both,” I said.

  “Perhaps, but you know as well as I that if we’re working together, there is no one that can stop us.”

  I smiled. “True. When do you make your move?”

  “Tomorrow night. I’ll move on the capital building. That will draw all attention out there. Call in and tell them you’ll be along to assist, then make for Mockingbird Industries.”

  “And when this is over?” I asked.

  “We go our separate ways. The Null can return to the grave, and Samuel will be back in retirement.”

  “Deal.”

  I wasn’t sure I believed he would retire again, but I couldn’t see any other way out. I needed his help to rescue my family, and that was all that mattered.

  NIGHTTIME, DAY THREE: THE RESCUE

  I had been staking out Mockingbird Industries all day and was merely waiting for Samuel to do his part. It seemed wrong to be teaming up with the mastermind behind the Ku Crisis, but he was right. So long as I let them think they could use my family, my family would never be safe.

  From my hiding spot inside the main lobby, I watched the newscast on the large monitors. Most of the employees were heading home for the night, and soon it would be just the guards and me in the building.

  About an hour past dark, the lights in the building flickered, and on the screens I saw one of the capital buildings go up in flames. My portable comm went off: a message from Agent Mikian.

  “Samuel spotted at the capital, please call in,” scrolled by on my screen.

  Not wanting to speak and give away my position, I typed in a simple reply. “Samuel has acquired several psionic bombs and has stated he plans to use them tonight to teach you a lesson.” I then sent a similar message to the anonymous tip line for the local news.

  I waited a bit longer, ignoring the frantic requests for more information on my comm until everyone in the building had their eyes on the monitors, watching the reports on the bomb threat and the emergency forces attempting to control the ensuing mass panic. The rumor I had started with my tip was growing out of control as only baseless rumors can.

  I quietly slipped past the distracted guards and into the service elevator. None of their telepathic implants could read me, and so as long as they weren’t looking at me, I didn’t even exist.

  I rode the elevator down into eerie silence. As the elevator cage came to a halt, I climbed to the top of it. The door slid open and two guards looked in. I leapt from my hiding place and knocked them both down.

  Before they could get up, I jumped to my feet and swept up their guns. As they looked up at me, fear passed across their faces. These days, no one seems to understand the concept of a poker face.

  “Sorry,” I said, then touched their minds with a bit of nothingness. Not enough to kill, but enough to incapacitate them for a while, until their brains could recover from the shock.

  I tossed their weapons aside and headed down the corridor. It wouldn’t be long before the guards were discovered, and I still had to locate the room where my family was being held.

  I searched door after door until I came around a bend and saw six guards lined up in front of a door. They were lazily talking among themselves and hadn’t yet noticed me. I pulled out my rifle and quickly opened fire on their position.

  A coldness passed over me as I marched forward, firing mercilessly into their number. They had made me a monster, and now they would have to deal with the consequences of their creation.

  The door flew open and more guards poured out, running right into my line of fire. Some of them dove back into the room for cover, and I had to hold my fire. I couldn’t see into the room to know the position of my wife and daughter.

  I sprinted down the corridor before they could recover enough to retaliate. As I approached the door, I risked pausing to focus my power, and let the aura of nothingness just barely precede me into the room. I heard the satisfying screams of mortal minds trying to cope with absolute nothing. Then I entered the room.

  My wife and daughter were seated a few feet away. Agent Mikian stood behind them, holding a gun to my daughter’s head. “Back off!” he ordered.

  I looked around me. All of his men were on the floor, either dead from my attack or incapacitated by the nothingness. “It’s over, Mikian. Let them go and you might live.”

  “No, I don’t think you understand. If you don’t leave right now, I will kill her,” he said.

  “No, you won’t. Because then there will be nothing to stop me from unleashing my full power on you and everyone in this building,” I said.

  His grip on the gun weakened and sweat poured down his face. “Maybe so. But she’ll still be dead.”

  I continued to walk toward him. “No, she won’t. You care more about your life than hers, so you won’t kill her.” I wanted to reach out with my power, but he could easily kill her before I’d built up enough energy to neutralize him.

  In a flash, he swung his arm up to fire at me, but my daughter tipped back her chair and fell into him. His shot went wide, and I was on him before he could recover.

  “My brother will be most disappointed if I kill you before he arrives,” I said.

  Agent Mikian’s eyes went wide. “You’re working with him? How could you?”

  “Because, as evil as he is, he did not go after my family.” I bound his arms and then freed my wife and daughter. Once they were free, I tied him to the chair he’d had my daughter in. “I’ll let him know you’re waiting for him.”

  I led my family out of the building and up the service elevator. When we came out into the lobby, Samuel was waiting for us. The guards were all dead.

  “I see you got them,” he said.

  “Yes, and your friend is waiting for you below,” I said.

  “Then we part ways?” he asked.

  “For now.” I wasn’t sure if I was a hero or a monster, but my family was safe.

  I could deal with Samuel another day.

  THE STORYMASTER

  “PAPA, IT’S TIME to get up,” came the ever-cheerful voice of my eldest granddaughter.

  It most definitely couldn’t be time to get up yet. “Go away, Myrill,” I groaned and pulled the thick wool blanket tighter in a vain attempt to ward her off. I was sure she was shorting my late afternoon nap more and more each day.

  “Now, Papa, the children are waiting to hear from the storymaster,” she said.

  “So go find one, and let me sleep,” I grumbled.

  “I did, and he’s in here shirking his duti
es,” she chided.

  I think she thoroughly enjoyed putting me through this every day at this time. Maybe it was payback for all those times I’d had to wake her up for something when she was a small child. Or maybe she just had a sadistic side. Probably both.

  I knew there was no escaping it; I’d have to get up. It was just that it was so warm under the blankets, and the thick feather mattress was very comfortable. It would grow cold once I got up, and I’d have to warm it up all over again.

  I slowly rolled back over and tried to untangle myself from the blanket. “You better have some tea on if you expect me to travel all that way in the bitter cold.”

  “Papa, they’re just in the next room over, and we have a good fire going,” she said.

  “Still, there’d better be tea, or I’m coming right back here! Now, where did you hide my cane this time?” I asked as I finally got my legs free.

  “It’s right here, exactly where you left it, of course.” She picked up my old bamboo cane. It was worn smooth at the grip, and the base was rough from use. It was a good, solid cane, one I’d had for many years now. I could walk without it, but my old bones much appreciated the help.

  She handed it to me, and I slowly made my way out to the room where my great-grandchildren were playing. Seeing their energy and vitality just made my advanced age feel even older. I wondered how many of them would remember me after I was gone and they started having their own children.

  I knew that Myrill was right. I needed to get out of the bed and move around. I really did enjoy the children, but moving was getting harder with each passing day. The long, cold winter nights didn’t help either.

  As I lowered myself into my rocker by the fire, Myrill tucked a wool blanket around me. She had made it for me earlier this winter, and despite my complaining, I really did appreciate all the attention she paid to my comfort.

  After checking to be sure I also had pillows, she said, “I’ll be back shortly with your tea.”

  The children all ran up to my chair and called out, “Storymaster! Tell us a story!”

  “What story should I tell you?” I asked them. Their excitement was a bit contagious, and I drew strength from it. A million stories came to my mind, and a thousand heroes leapt for attention.