Kane nodded. He knew it was true. He knew that she was the woman from his dreams, that here was her army, ready to march into the Empire State, ready to end it all.
She floated down from the platform until she was almost on the floor of the chamber. This close, Kane felt alive, aware, his body sharp and real and powerful. In response, her aura flickered, growing larger, brighter, so close he could reach out and touch it.
“Come to me,” she said, holding out her arms. “Come to me and we will die together.”
FIFTY-THREE
They found first a corridor and then a door, following a roaring in the air, low and rhythmic, like an animal breathing. Through the door was a platform. Rad moved to the railing, and looked down into the largest room he’d ever seen – like a half dozen of the huge hangars the Empire State Police Department kept their blimps in. The vast space was lit in spinning red by a huge glowing ring at the center and, there, standing between rows and rows of robots, two figures flashing blue. The machines were all facing the impossibility that formed the entire left side of the space.
The wall there was missing; instead, Rad looked out into a street in a city at night, windswept and icy, the sky above tinged orange. The Empire State, cold and decaying, connected directly to this underground space in New York City.
Rad heard Mr Grieves swear quietly beside him as he took in the view.
This was it. The robot army Kane had seen in his dream, the one James Jones was preparing to fight. It started here, in this room, a nuclear holocaust that would unravel the universe itself.
Mr Grieves called out and Rad snapped his head around, too late. Two of the robots were on the platform with them, between them and the door. The machines towered over the pair of them; Rad knew at once that resistance was a waste of time. In one fluid movement, Rad’s upper arm was enveloped by a huge silver hand, and he was pulled down the stairs, Mr Grieves and escort right behind. The robots dragged the pair across the factory floor below, towards the two shining blue figures. They stopped and Rad pulled at his captor; to his surprise, the robots released him – but there was nowhere to go.
“That’s bad,” said Grieves next to him. Rad glanced at him and then squinted into the blue glow in front of them. Two people: a woman in a skirted suit wearing a hat; a man in a kind of black jumpsuit, the helmet missing, his hair waving in the energy aura like it was a summer’s breeze.
Kane and Evelyn McHale. The woman from Kane’s dream, the living echo of the Fissure that Nimrod had told them about. In his mind, Rad agreed with Grieves’s summary of the situation. He thought perhaps Kane and Evelyn shouldn’t get too close.
“Kane!” he called out, and Kane jumped like he’d had a fright. Evelyn turned with him to face the intruders.
Mr Grieves cleared his throat and raised his head. “Where’s Captain Nimrod?”
The Director smiled and floated a foot into the air. Kane was still entangled in her blue halo but he moved backwards, away from her, his own blue glow diminishing with each step.
“Nimrod?” said Evelyn. “You can have him. He is unnecessary.”
Nimrod’s prone form appeared on the floor in front of Rad – there was no flash of light or slow fade-in; one second he wasn’t there and then he was. He hit the deck and rolled, moaning in pain. Mr Grieves dropped to his side immediately, but Nimrod clambered to one elbow. He faced Evelyn and coughed.
“He’s an anomaly, isn’t he?” he asked, nodding at Kane. “You didn’t see this.”
“Anomaly?” asked Rad.
Nimrod chuckled as Grieves helped him to his feet. He stood on his own with a slight stoop, one arm around his middle, but his voice was clear and strong as he addressed the Director of Atoms for Peace.
“An anomaly,” he said, pointing at Kane. “He is as much part of the Fissure as she is, but from the other side, from the Empire State. Kane doesn’t exist in the same space and time as the rest of us. Which is why she couldn’t see him.” Nimrod laughed. “Your plan has failed, Evelyn. The future is not as predetermined as you thought.”
Wind and freezing mist blew in from Soma Street. Rad grabbed his hat before it flew off.
“Whether she’s a fortuneteller or not,” said Rad, his voice raised over the squall, “this robot army is still going to blow up my city.”
Nimrod leaned into Mr Grieves, as Rad turned his back to the portal to shield the old man from the wintery blast.
At the room’s center, Kane took another step back and doubled over in pain. Blue energy licked his body, and he fell to one knee. Evelyn’s image flickered like a frame of film with a torn sprocket. When she stabilized Rad saw her face clouded with doubt.
Nimrod laughed again. Rad didn’t like the mood the Captain was in, no matter what the Ghost of Gotham had done to him.
Evelyn held out an arm to Kane, but Kane didn’t move. Rad saw Evelyn stretch, strain to reach him, but she seemed fixed in the air. She flickered again, pain crossing her face as she closed her eyes.
“What’s happening?” he asked.
“No,” said Evelyn, her eyes searching the room, like she couldn’t see it. “I can’t go. The world is moving away from me, faster, faster.”
“She’s losing her grip on the world,” said Nimrod. “It’s Kane. Together, they stabilized – both sides of the Fissure in the same place. But I’m afraid you interrupted them, unbalanced them. She’s slipped, and without Kane’s energy she will fall, forever.”
“No!” Evelyn screamed. “I will not fall. I have the power, here and now. Elektro!”
From behind her, under the main reactor torus, Elektro strode out. He stopped beside the Director’s floating form and regarded Kane with hands on hips.
“He don’t look so good, boss. Looks like he could use a little juicing.”
Evelyn ignored the machine as she flickered again. “Commence the countdown.”
“Anything you say, boss.”
There was a deafening bang, enough to shake the floor as the robot army turned on their heel to face the central reactor. Elektro gave a salute. “Wind ‘em up, gentlemen.”
On each of the robot’s torsos, the spinning red disc of their fusor reactors flashed white as the machines entered their destruct sequences. The hum of the torus increased; above the reactor’s control panel, the mechanical digital display flipped over with a clack.
The countdown began.
Rad blanched. Sixty seconds. Sixty seconds until the robot army detonated.
“She’s going to destroy the world here?” Rad scanned the room. “I thought she needed to get her army into the Empire State.”
Nimrod’s face fell. He walked towards Evelyn, stepping over Kane’s prone form. “No, this is different. She is falling and needs the energy just to stay in the world.”
Forty seconds.
Nimrod turned back to his friends. Rad looked around at the robots, their spinning lights now flashing in time with the glow of the torus reactor, in time with the digits flipping down on the clock, marking time until the end of the world.
Thirty seconds.
“We need to get out of here,” said Rad, knowing even as he said it that it was a naïve thought. Nimrod shook his head.
Twenty-five seconds.
“Each robot has a reactor inside it. There are enough here to destroy the East Coast of the United States. There is nowhere to run.”
Fifteen seconds.
Rad looked at Mr Grieves, but all the agent did was take off his hat and shake his head, like he’d just lost a bet on his favorite baseball team.
Ten seconds.
Rad looked at Soma Street. It was dark and cold but it was home. Rad missed it.
Five seconds.
FIFTY-FOUR
Kane pushed himself up from the floor. As he moved, the lines of power connecting him to Evelyn snapped tight, sending white-hot pain flickering across his whole body. He gritted his teeth, focused on the pain, concentrated on the tugging sensation at the base of his spine.
The power of the Fissure, the power he had nearly exhausted defending his friends in the Empire State – it was here, now, in this room, in the portal to his home city open behind him and in the wraith floating in the air in front of him. And she was falling, slipping away from the world.
Kane reached out towards her. He understood the power, understood how to control it, to make it his, to wield the blue light of the gap between universes, shaping it, molding it for his own use. He had disturbed the balance, coming here; he was an unexpected guest, a future she could not see. Because they were alike, the two of them. No longer people, just parts of the Fissure, two sides of the same coin.
Kane summoned his strength, pulling energy from the window to Soma Street, pulling energy from Evelyn McHale’s quantum event horizon. It was like flying in the air above Grand Central, as easy as pie.
But he needed more, a lot more. Evelyn did too, but she was going to kill millions of people to do it, just to stay in the world, a place she didn’t even want to be.
There was another way.
Kane stood and Evelyn screamed. He saw fear on her face, desperate and cold and black; it was bottomless despair, the expression of the damned.
He turned, and saw Rad and Mr Grieves and Captain Nimrod, frozen in time.
No, not frozen. Time moved on, but Kane had sidestepped it, jumping off the track. Kane had all the time in the world, the countdown to destruction paused at four seconds forever.
Kane looked into the workings of the fusor reactors that powered the army. Despite his being outside of time there was still movement within, the quantum states of the subatomic particles flipping back and forth, back and forth, like they couldn’t quite decide which state was best. It was the Fissure and the two universes, the Pocket and the Origin, slammed together in the underground chamber, Kane knew that. Each universe was incompatible with the other, not enough for anything cataclysmic, but enough to make things difficult.
Kane cancelled the countdown and stepped back into the time track. The fusor reactor in each robot flashed white and then the red spinning power within was slower, calmer, duller.
One.
The countdown clock clacked to zero, and stopped. There was no explosion, no atomic end of New York. The torus reactor hummed, and the robots stayed exactly where they were.
Evelyn flickered and she wasn’t quite there, not anymore. Kane watched her face, watched the fear. Then the factory flared blue as he was pulled by her gravity back out of time, into the interstitial nothingness.
None of this was her fault. She hadn’t wanted to come back. All she’d wanted to do was die, properly, the pain of existence too much. But now she had slipped and was scrambling to get hold once more, and she couldn’t.
Kane was falling too, slipping away from time and space, dragged down by her. He’d used up what energy he could tap in the room. There was no more. And with the countdown stopped, there would be no more for Evelyn either. Together they would fall, forever.
Kane took a step forward. It was harder than he expected. His event horizon was locked to Evelyn’s as they sank down through the foundations of space/time together into a dark place without end. Her eyes were on his, and she didn’t move, couldn’t move. She faded again, and Kane felt the pain in his spine.
She didn’t deserve her fate, and Kane didn’t want to join her, but he needed help. Perhaps there was some power left, some scrap to cling to, something he could use or direct.
A plan formed in his mind. A desperate one, one that he wasn’t sure was even possible. But he had to try.
Kane reached out, his mind brushing another. A person he could trust, who would do his all, his level best, Kane knew. And Kane smiled.
“Rad?”
“Kane,” said the detective behind him. “I… what’s going on?”
Kane shook his head, keeping his eyes on Evelyn. “I need your help, old buddy. We don’t have much time. I need power.”
“I don’t understand. Where are we? Everything’s, ah, blue.”
Kane kept his voice level, and he spoke slowly and clearly. The countdown to atomic annihilation might have stopped, but Kane and Evelyn were teetering on the edge of oblivion.
“We’re in the factory. I’ve pulled you sideways out of time. I need your help. I’ve given you a little of the Fissure’s power, but I need more. Much more. Evelyn and I are locked together. I can’t do it on my own.”
“Where’s Byron?”
A beat. “Byron is gone.”
“Gone? Gone where?”
“Just gone,” said Kane. “Rad, I need your help here.”
Rad stepped forward slowly until he was level with Kane. Kane glanced sideways at him, and saw Rad with his hands in front of his face, looking them over as a moving blue aura crackled around them. Rad’s eyes were wide as he looked at his friend. “OK. Tell me what to do.”
Kane managed a weak smile. Then he slid to his knees. With some of the Fissure’s power syphoned over to Rad, the pain running down his back was brutal, white-hot. The fall was imminent.
“Elektro,” Kane said, and from behind Evelyn the metal man stepped out, red eyes rolling. A whining came from its voice unit, like a radio stuck between stations. “The robot, Rad. Take the fusor and give it to me.”
Rad stared at the robot, then at his hands.
“Kane, I–”
“Trust me, Rad! Do it!” Kane collapsed onto the floor.
He watched as Rad rolled his shoulders and walked towards Elektro, hands outstretched. The robot backed away, but the movement was jerky, like it was pulling against something. Then Rad was standing in front of the machine, the top of his hat coming not quite to the robot’s chin.
The fusor spun lazily in Elektro’s chest, the red light mixing with the blue glow of the room outside of time. Rad reached forward, his hands almost touching the robot’s chest.
Elektro was fast. Rad cried out as both wrists were gripped by the robot’s massive metal hands. Elektro leaned forward, forcing Rad to his knees. Rad cried out again, his face contorted in agony.
“You’re gonna have to do better than that, friend,” said Elektro. It pushed again, and Rad moaned as he was released. The detective toppled sideways to the floor as the robot straightened up and turned to Kane.
Kane shuddered, the pain too much, and the factory flickered into monochrome as he fell through the gap between now and now and returned to the world. The hum of the torus reactor seemed as loud as a hurricane and the footsteps of Elektro like collapsing mountains as it strode towards him.
A blurry shape flashed an inch past Kane’s face, something dark green and flowing, a woman in a long coat, her tall black boots shining beneath the tails, her golden face reflecting the glow of Elektro’s red eyes.
The robot stopped but Jennifer didn’t pause. She powered towards the machine, pulling back her right arm like she was about to loose an arrow.
“I picked this up from a friend,” she said. “Sometimes a punch can save the world.”
Her fist connected with Elektro’s jaw and kept going, tearing the steel apart and turning the robot’s head into a twisted clump of scrap metal. Elektro whined from somewhere inside his torso, as loud as a jet engine, and fell backwards to the floor. Jennifer straddled the machine’s frame as it twitched on the ground; reaching down, she yanked the chest plate off and pulled the fusor reactor out.
“Jennifer?”
As Kane watched, powerless even to rise from the floor, Rad got to his knees and then to his feet. Jennifer held the fusor reactor up and stared into its glowing heart. She looked mesmerized by the light, and if she saw Rad coming toward her, Kane couldn’t tell.
Then she fell, telescoping straight down, the fusor leaving her hands as they dropped away.
Rad was fast and his face was a grimace of determination. He grabbed the fusor before it was halfway to the floor. Then, as he fell over Jennifer’s body, he shouted something. What, Kane couldn’t tell over the ocean of noise in his head, bu
t craning his neck he saw Rad toss the fusor reactor like a football towards him.
This was it. One chance. With a cry, Kane concentrated and pushed at the world, willing the power to rise from somewhere inside him, where the Fissure was hidden. He forced himself to stand; as he did, Evelyn screamed and flickered.
Kane caught the fusor. The light within was red and orange and warm and even holding the device was enough to invigorate him. Then he looked up at Evelyn.
“I don’t want to fall,” said the Ghost of Gotham. She held out her hand to Kane, her blue glow almost extinguished, leaving her grey and cold, an afterimage burned into the universe on that May morning in 1947.
Kane smiled. “Neither do I.” And then he tore off the glass cap of the fusor reactor. He summoned the last ember of his power and gave the ions within a little push, setting the reactor to destruct as the delicate balance within was disturbed. With one hand he pressed the cylinder to his chest as the device began to whine, the tone higher and higher, and he walked towards Evelyn. He took her hand, feeling pins and needles as their skin touched. He drew her into an embrace. And then she understood. She relaxed in his arms, resting her head on his shoulder, her feet touching the ground.
“I remember that day,” she said softly. “I thought I could fly.”
Kane smiled. “So did I, once.” He pulled her close and they walked to the portal, to Soma Street, passing through the assembled robots like they were smoke. Time slowed. Kane could feel the heartbeat in his chest and he thought he could feel the heartbeat in hers too, but he wasn’t sure.
They stood over the threshold, one foot in New York, one foot in the Empire State, standing in neither.
Kane held Evelyn and Evelyn screamed, screamed as she fell from the top of the tallest building in New York, her clothes caught in the wind, the wind that wrenched the shoes from her feet, that tore her stockings but that couldn’t take her hand from the pearls around her neck, the pearls she held onto until the very end.
Kane held Evelyn and Elektro’s heart detonated.
The Age Atomic Page 28