by Matt Adams
“You don’t think we should split up?” Jaci asks.
The birdman shakes his head and warbles, “It means we—the flock—are always together, even when we’re apart. Strength in unity and nest-hood.”
Warren shrugs. “We’re in enemy territory, man. I think we should probably pack as much firepower as we can. That means staying together.”
“I can move a whole lot faster by myself. I might even get past their security systems,” I tell them. “You three should go keep our enthusiastic Earth tourists from meeting the same fate as Henrietta Davies. I’ll go toward the main detention area and see about getting Dad out.”
“You may move fast, Fairborne, but you’re not going it alone. I didn’t come all the way up here to be window dressing,” Jaci protests. “I’ll go with you.”
Warren holds his hands up like he’s about to protest, but stops without saying another word. He nods.
“Should we not rescue your father first?” Falcon Gray asks. “We can then put our full strength into rescuing the passengers.”
“I’ll admit it—just this once, Chris is right. We need to split up and do both. If we let the Kiltechs do whatever they want with the civilians, then we cease to be heroes. We don’t save the day because we like to wear sweaty costumes,” Warren says, giving me an insight into what it’s like under all that high-tech Kevlar camo armor. Points off for calling it a costume, though. “When it comes down to it, the only reason we exist is to help people. To deny them help would betray our principles. Ourselves. It would make us no better than the Kiltechs.”
“You are wise, my young birdbrain,” Falcon Gray says.
“Need a hand down from that soapbox?” I ask Warren.
“Will you shut up?” Warren cracks a smile, which quickly disappears as the holographic image in front of him fills with static and then vanishes. Several foreign characters flash across the screen. I swear the Kiltechs write in Aurebesh. “That’s not good,” Warren says. “My guess is that means either ‘access restricted’ or ‘intruder alert.’”
Since there are no klaxons sounding at the moment, I’m thinking it’s option number one. I hope.
“It could also be that my user level doesn’t have the correct credentials to access this part of the system,” Warren continues, tapping away at his beloved scanner. He barely acknowledges my bewildered look, then finally says, “Our software tech is pretty advanced. The coding app has digested enough Kiltech code to interpret it.”
“It can read Kiltech language now?”
“Yeah,” Warren mutters. “But it’s sketchy, sort of like a Babel Fish translation. We’ll be able to get the gist, but I wouldn’t bank on an exact translation. That’s interesting.” He holds his scanner horizontally and makes a few quick taps across the surface. “The scanner says it’s detected a Wi-Fi hotspot. It’s weak, but it’s connecting. Not password-protected, either. Check this out.”
He spins around and holds the screen up so I can see it. The Wi-Fi network is registered as “ColChaos1.”
“Your father’s working on something,” Warren says. Without warning, his phone buzzes. Oddly enough, the buzz is probably louder than any of the phone’s actual ringtones. Like I said, iPhone.
“He just texted me,” Warren says. He reads from the screen, “‘Send Chris and Jaci to prison area. Others should take care of the hostages.’”
“I told you so,” I say with cockeyed smile.
The phone buzzes again. Warren reads from the screen again, “‘Tell Chris to hurry up. Kiltechs are coming hard.”
“I guess we split up, then,” Jaci says.
“You watch yourself,” I tell Warren, holding out my hand.
Warren takes it and we give each other one of those half-handshake/half-hugs guys give to their best friends. Falcon Gray bows, giving me the irresistible urge to scratch his neck. The man-bird’s right foot taps up and down rapidly like a dog that’s been scratched behind the ear. I half expect him to wag his tail feathers before remembering he doesn’t have any.
“Save as many as you can,” I tell them before rocketing away at Crimsonspeed, mindful not to go too fast. After all, Jaci’s got my back.
So far, so good.
The Kiltechs don’t cloak themselves aboard their own ships. Makes sense, I guess, since they’re not trying to hide from anyone up here.
Warren and his schematics gave me a good look at the main detention area, which is still on this deck, but closer to the center of the ship. It makes sense when you think about it. The center of the ship is the most protected part; keeping it secure is easy. Well, at least it should be.
Before long, we stand outside the main detention area, which opens up into a room with a high ceiling. Jaci ascends out of the sightlines of two non-armored Kiltechs who staff white desks on either side. A set of tall, white doors sits shut behind them.
When they see me, both attendants have the frustrated look of librarians who’ve just had to deal with someone whose phone started blasting the Macarena. Like Kilgore, their faces are green, although they lack the bumpy, scaly look of the Kiltech leader.
The Kiltechs tug at their white tunics and then yell something in the unintelligible (to me) language of their race. Sure could use a translator right now. Even Warren’s Babel Fish version.
One of them presses a button while the other attendant gestures frantically.
I risk a glance up; Jaci floats at the top of the room as the doors open. Kiltech guards spill through.
“I surrender,” I say, totally lying my ass off.
If the guards understood me, they certainly aren’t giving any indication as they form a ring around me that quickly starts to close in. One of the Kiltech librarians jabbers in harsh tones, gesturing manically as he/she/it tries to tell me how much trouble I’m in.
The armored aliens encircling me were kind of a tipoff, pal.
The Kiltech librarian points at one of the guards, who doesn’t seem to appreciate being told what to do. The soldier shakes his head as the librarian gestures emphatically in my direction.
As their argument continues, the guards get suddenly smaller and I realize they’re all looking up at me. Their rifles also point up, and it dawns on me that Jaci’s got me. The Kiltechs favor us with more sinister grunts as we fly off, and the large doors at the end of the room start to close.
“Let’s move! Let’s move!” I yell.
Jaci glides through just as the large doors slam shut with enough force to shake the walls. We keep going through the lazy curve of the hallway until we encounter the end. We touch down softly on the metal floor.
The entire hallway reminds me of Krypton from the first Superman movie. The white surfaces of the wall and floor practically gleam. I expect Marlon Brando to appear at any moment in showy, glowing Kryptonian awesomeness.
“There has to be something here,” Jaci insists, floating toward the ceiling. “A duct, a ventilation shaft. Something.” She runs her hands along the smooth surface of the wall. “If there is, I can’t feel it.”
The distant pounding of Kiltech shock-boots reverberates throughout the hallway; they’re not far away.
“We better figure something out,” I tell her. “Because they’ll be here in a minute.”
Something catches my eye back in the direction of the entrance—a light yellow force field. I zip toward it before Jaci has a chance to remind me that I’m heading in the opposite direction we want to go.
A woman stands by herself. Restrained by beams of light, she looks at me, eyes pleading for release. Encased in a cube that floats next to her is a Band of Power.
I hear a voice in my head. “Please release us. The Kiltechs are holding us captive.”
Freakin’ minders. I hate these people.
“Don’t hate what you don’t understand,” the woman says in my head.
I put my palms up to my forehead in an attempt to rub the voice out of my brain—not that it’s ever worked. Jaci grabs my arm as the footsteps of the
Kiltech soldiers grow louder.
“What is it?” she asks. “Who are they?”
I squeeze my eyes shut hard and try to get my bearings. “Apparently, this containment center is full of Orange Bands,” I explain, pointing at the woman. “Oh, and she’s a mind reader.”
“Can she mind-read a way out of here?” Jaci asks.
“I don’t know,” I say with a shrug. “Is this detention area only for Orange Bands?”
“Your devotion to the spoken word is amusing,” the woman says in my head. “But, you are correct: this area is for captured Orange Bands. I do not know the layout, but if I know the Kiltech Empire, they will certainly have subjugated other life forms as well.”
Jaci now holds her head. “I really don’t like it when people bore into my thoughts. Man, that’ll give you a headache.” She regains her composure a second later. “We better see about that exit.”
As we leave behind a hallway full of imprisoned Orange Bands, we pass a computer terminal. After five very frustrating seconds of trying to use it, I give up. “I was hoping they’d have a ‘free all prisoners button,’” I quip. “Make things a lot easier.”
Static pours over unseen speakers. “Move back to the other end of the hallway.” The voice unmistakably belongs to my father. I take a step toward the entrance. “Not that way. The other way.”
I point toward the dead end, figuring he’s got a camera trained on us somehow.
“Yes, that way,” my father says.
Jaci and I exchange unimpassioned looks that say, “sure, whatever,” and run back toward the white wall. Those Kiltech footsteps sound mighty close right now, and I see them starting to come around the hallway’s bend.
“I hope those cells are comfortable,” Jaci says.
We both press our backs against the wall. “You can always fly us right back to where we came from,” I point out. “Not that that will help or anything.”
A second later, I hear a hissing sound and the wall behind us starts to recess.
“It’s maintenance access,” my father says over the static-filled speaker. “Don’t just stand there!”
We slide into the small opening and the door hisses shut behind us. About thirty seconds later, the Kiltech footsteps come to a halt and some of them start pounding against the wall. Dim lights line the floor. Pipes overhead remind me of the bunker from Jurassic Park. Swear to God, if I come across Samuel L. Jackson’s arm, I’m gonna lose it.
“Ceiling’s too low for me to do any flying,” Jaci says. “It’s too dark, too.”
Though it’s against my nature, we proceed cautiously. I’d love to kick it into full-bore Crimsonspeed, but Jaci’s right—running into a wall in the dark wouldn’t help. The interior smells of strange metals and petroleum. The scents are familiar yet alien, which I suppose makes sense. We hit a fork in the path.
Jaci takes me by the wrist and heads left. I follow, but she stops and turns around.
“What is it?” I ask.
“Look at the lights,” she orders, pointing toward the other path.
“I’ll be damned,” I say, awestruck, as the floor lights on the other path pulsate softly. “Dad’s lighting the way. That clever evil genius.”
The path is twisting and confusing, but we keep following the glowing lights. It’s kind of like the video for “Billy Jean.” The path splits off several times, and just when we think we’re finished, we have to take another path. And then, when I expect another last-second turn, we do a face-plant right into a wall. Before I know it, it’s pushing back toward us. We step backward, and the wall swings open just slightly, spilling white light into the dark surroundings.
Both Jaci and I shield our eyes as we walk through the opening. Through squinted eyes I see a large, spinning device emitting twin twisting cylindrical shafts of blue energy.
I have a sudden craving for Doublemint gum: both my father and High Imperator Chaos stand next to the machine with their arms crossed.
“Glad you two could make it,” Dad says. I know it’s my dad because he’s genuinely excited to see me, while the other Chaos just rolls his eyes. Good guy, that one. My father gives me a hug. The tight squeeze doesn’t break any bones.
It barely tickles.
Which means…
“They got you, didn’t they?” I ask.
My father’s smile fades. “They blasted both of us.”
“They took away your powers?” Jaci asks, sounding horrified. “They did the same thing to some members of the Champions of Justice.”
“I don’t know if it’s permanent. They blast us, what, every ten hours or so?” he asks the High Imperator.
“I believe it’s possible our powers will return,” the High Imperator says. “Though I can’t be certain. But that’s not the most pressing matter at the moment.” He turns toward the intimidating machine as it continues to spin.
“All right, I’ll bite. What’s with the doomsday device?” I ask.
“The Kiltechs ordered us to create a gateway to all of Earth’s possibilities,” High Imperator Chaos says. His tone is gruffer, and he seems even more weighted down than my father. “We did what we were ordered to. Once that is activated, all of the histories of the infinite Earths will merge. The Kiltechs will have an infinite army of Earth heroes at their disposal.”
“That sounds like kind of a lousy plan,” I tell him.
The High Imperator—you really know he’s evil now because his face is stubbly while my father remains clean-cut—scratches his chin. “I admire its scope, its vision, but it’s simply too dangerous. The risk of destabilizing the multiuniverse is too great.”
“Nothing left for you to rule, right? Am I right?” I ask, perhaps taunting a little more than I intend. Just a little.
“Chris!” Jaci protests, giving me a not-so-gentle shove.
The High Imperator crosses his arms and looks to my father. “The Kiltechs and I made a deal several years ago. They agreed to help me take control of the Earth with the threat of a faux invasion. They even agreed to destroy the West Coast, certainly a favor for those of us with more level heads. In return, I pledged Earth’s allegiance to their cause.”
Dad takes it from there. “My, uh, contemporary here didn’t plan to follow through on that last part.”
He reads the fake, theatrical shocked look on my face.
“I was surprised to hear that, too,” he deadpans, eliciting a scowl from the High Imperator. “Instead, he secretly gathered all of Earth’s heroes and repelled their forces, calling their appearance an invasion. Embarrassed, the Kiltechs left us alone for a while before coming back with an alternate plan to take over. For whatever reason, they believe—and I mean they’re really sold on the idea—that Earth’s allegiance is the key to winning their war against the Orange Bands.”
“Their current plan, however, is unsustainable,” the High Imperator says. “The Kiltechs should know better, because they’re interdimensional beings. They can hop from reality to reality, but they never merge realities. They know that would create universal disharmony. If you combine all realities into one—even for just one planet—you risk a cataclysmic chain reaction across the multiverse. One cannot simply rip an entire planet—its matter, history, cosmic footprint, people, and influence—away from infinity. Yet the Kiltechs plan to do just that because they believe this Earth is the one to make the last stand. It will win the war for them, and so they don’t care about the fate of the universe beyond that.”
The High Imperator’s eyes reveal something about the man, a certain conviction. Yes, he imprisoned my father. Yes, he turned the world into a disastrous dystopia filled with Enforcers and particle busters. Yes, he allied himself with the man who killed my mother—and relished every minute of it.
But the High Imperator, worlds-weary, graying, stubble-faced, depowered, doesn’t want the Kiltechs to succeed. The imperious grandeur of their plan, it seems, has taken away some of his bravado.
For now.
The genera
lly irritated body language means he’s not exactly thrilled about it. Just a look in the eyes, though, gives him away.
They are my father’s eyes.
“If their grand master plan involves merging ‘all reality’ or whatever, then why are they trying to enhance regular people? Why are they trying to control the Clermont escapees?” Jaci asks.
“Ah, Enforcer Graves, I’m glad you asked,” the High Imperator says with a sinister smile. “My contemporary here has a tendency to understate the Kiltechs’ understanding of what they’re ordering us to do. It’s not their preferred course of action, but they’re stuck in our reality. They don’t like it. But this, they believe, may be the only solution that works—their only option. They’re so obsessed with succeeding that they’re without reason.”
“Yeah, getting obsessed tends to do that,” I chime in, eyes shifting between the High Imperator and my father. “By the way,” I add, taking a dramatic second to look around the cavernous room, “why is it that you two don’t seem like prisoners here? Where are the guards? The whip-cracking overseers? Why am I here?”
“That last question is a little existential, don’t you think?” Dad says, a little too playfully for my taste.
The High Imperator looks at my father. “Really, sometimes it is hard to believe this one shares my blood.”
Dad ignores him. “After they neutralized our powers, the Kiltechs gave us access to their technology, figuring we could help speed up their efforts. Big mistake. You know what we’re capable of when given time. We’ve taken over this section of the Kiltech ship. They’ve been trying to get access, but we’ve locked down the area. That’s how we were able to get you into that maintenance accessway.”
“The lights were a nice touch,” Jaci says, giving an appreciative nod.
Once again, I notice a distinct lack of Kiltechs around the lab. “So you guys are in charge here?”
“For now,” Dad confirms. “But there is something I need to warn you about.” He points to a domed structure to the right of the spinning columns of light. “The Kiltechs made a mistake. Well, they made several mistakes, but one in particular is really burning them right now.