The Aberrant Series (Book 2): Super Vision

by Franklin Kendrick

  “It’s late,” I say. “Maybe everyone is gone home for the night. That’s a good thing, right? If the place is deserted, then we don’t have to worry about fighting anyone. We can get in and out with no hassle - and we can still call the cops to report anything we find.”

  “What about The Drone?” Mae crosses her arms. “I expected him to be hiding out here, if it really is the Spire Tech headquarters. Didn’t you think that as well?”

  “I did.” I clench my teeth a bit as I think things over. “It does seem odd that if he’s hiding out here, he would be alone without any form of security. No cameras seems pretty suspicious. I just hope that he really is inside and that he’s relaxed enough that we catch him completely by surprise. Maybe we’ll find out who this mysterious cloaked figure that attacked me is, as well.”

  Mae lets this process, then nods at last.

  “Alright,” she says. “That makes sense. Anyone who’s still here would be inside - cars or no cars. We just have to be careful. You’ve got your phone ready, with the police on speed dial?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. So do I.” She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a can of mace. I give it an amused look and she shrugs. “I don’t have pulse powers like you. Just flight and strange visions. At least if we come across The Drone, I can shoot him in the face with this and give us a chance to hold him down.”

  “It’s a good idea,” I reply.

  We stand there in silence for another moment before Mae shakes off her nerves.

  “Well, we didn’t come here just to admire the scenery,” she says, nudging me. “Let’s find a way into this place.”

  We creep along the wall, passing each of the freight doors as if at any moment they could fly open. That doesn’t happen, however. Things remain deathly quiet.

  Realistically, nobody knows that we’re here. So, we aren’t interrupted when we get to the other end of the building and find a set of concrete steps with a steel railing. These steps go up to a landing with a very nondescript entrance. There is no signage on the walls whatsoever. If I were a random passerby, this building would look like a simple storage facility.

  With a quick sweep of the stairs with my visor that, as before, brings up nothing - no cameras, no guards, not even a window - the two of us hurry up onto the landing and take our places on either side of the door.

  “Do you think it’s unlocked?” asks Mae in a hushed tone.

  “Only one way to find out,” I say and grab the handle tightly in my hand.

  With almost no effort, the handle turns and the door slides open, revealing a brightly lit entryway beyond, with two cheap black chairs and a small stand of technical magazines.

  We both enter, scoping out the place.

  The entryway is a small room. To the left is a plexiglass window securing a reception desk which is abandoned. There is a single outdated computer that looks as if it hasn’t been used in years. In fact, the place seems like it’s been neglected for quite a while. Looking at one of the magazines by the chairs reveals their publication date - 2013. These haven’t been changed out for years.

  I’m just thumbing through the small stack of magazines, searching for anything more recent to justify this place being used as a base, when Mae calls over to me from the other side of the room.

  “Shaun, check this out.”

  She’s standing in front of a glass door - the kind that you would expect to find in a facility where chemicals are being used. The glass is double-paned and laced with anti-shatter protection. Beyond, as I peer through the glass, I can see a hallway that stretches down a good distance and ends with a faint light.

  “Do you think there’s someone down there?” Mae asks. “Maybe The Drone?”

  I shrug.

  “It could be where he’s hiding out,” I reply.

  There’s a handle on the door with a keypad beside it. I’m wondering what the combination for the door is when I give it a quick tug and the door swings open. Whatever hydraulic piston that originally kept the door secure seems to be turned off and useless.

  “It’s not locked?” says Mae, preparing her can of mace.

  “Could be a glitch or something,” I say. Then I hold out my hand, motioning for Mae to step back. “You wait here. I’m going to check it out.”

  Mae protests, but I am firm in my stance.

  “My pulse blasts are more than enough to get myself out of a sticky situation if I come across something down there. I promise, I’ll be right back and if the coast is clear, then you can follow me.”

  I can tell that Mae doesn’t like the sound of this, but she nods hesitantly.

  “Alright. Be careful.”

  I step through the door and cautiously creep down the hallway. My hands are up in front of me, ready to blast anything that might come around the corner at the end of the hall and attack.

  The hall is quiet. I am walking as softly as I can, but still the sounds of my footsteps echo against the linoleum floor. There are lights along the ceiling, but there is no switch nearby to turn them on. The only light comes at the end of the hall, with the source concealed around the corner.

  I am nearly to the end of the hallway when a loud, penetrating buzz makes the floor tremble and I nearly lose my footing, catching myself with a hand against the wall. The lights in the hallway flicker to life and blind me momentarily.

  Behind me, Mae shouts.

  “Shaun!”

  I turn to see the glass door closing on her. The hydraulics are turned on and no matter how hard Mae pushes on the door, it shuts with a metallic click and seals itself.

  I hurry back to the door and give the handle a yank, but it’s useless. I am closed in, and now that the power is turned back on, the door needs a code - a code that neither of us have.

  Mae presses her hands hopelessly against the glass. “Dammit!” she yells.

  The door is sealed shut and no amount of pushing will get it open again.

  I humor her and blast a few balls of energy against the door, hoping that maybe I can damage the keypad enough that the lock will malfunction. Instead I end up filling the entire space with light and sparks, but they do nothing except for rebound and dissipate in the hallway behind me.

  The door won’t budge.

  There’s nothing to be done.

  “It’s alright,” I say, having to raise my voice to be heard through the thick shatter-proof glass. “I’m fine.”

  “You can’t go forward alone!” Mae says.

  I hold my hands in front of me and power them up. Purple energy runs between my fingers like webbing of light. “I can handle myself. You go back out and call the police.”

  “And what do I tell them?”

  I think for a moment, then reply, “Tell them that someone’s being held hostage - that they have weapons. They will have to come and see what’s happening. By then I should have found a way out and we can fly out of here.”

  I can tell that Mae doesn’t like this plan, but there’s nothing else we can do. I can’t go back, and there’s no way that I’m going to pass up moving forward and getting to the bottom of this.

  “Go on!” I say, motioning to Mae. “I’ll meet you outside before you know it.”

  She hesitates, looking me up and down, then nods.

  “You better meet me outside! If you find The Drone - or anybody - take them down before they can take you down. I’ll be waiting!”

  She turns and rushes back around the corner and out of sight.

  I’m on my own now, and I hear the sound of machinery - the low hum of engines running. Down at the end of the long, doorless hallway is a corner, around which glows a cold blue light.

  It’s around that corner and into that light that I must go. There are no other options.

  As quietly as possible, which is pretty hard with the soles of my shoes clicking off the glossy flooring, I head to the light.

  28

  The Villain Unmasked

  Around the corner I am partially blin
ded by the light. It takes a few moments for my eyes to adjust. When they do, I am greeted by an open glass door that leads into a room filled with chrome tables covered with machinery.

  Various gadgets are clicking away, with gears rotating and moving thin metal arms. It feels like I’ve stepped into a computer factory. Every few feet there’s another glowing touchscreen displaying information. There are progress bars of data being copied from one place to another - information downloading from the internet. Fiber-optic and ethernet cables snake across the floor like a spider’s web.

  I am amused to see a copy of the visor that sits on my face, sitting on a glass display stand over against the wall. There’s also a collection of different prototypes of what appears to be a utility watch. I can only imagine what it does. I don’t dare to pick it up for fear of suddenly being discovered, or setting off an alarm.

  The room is empty except for me, with a door at the other end.

  Every screen I see seems to follow a familiar theme. Glowing, milky images of space and glittering pictures of starscapes cycle slowly across the screens, leading me to believe that I am watching live feeds of various space oddities.

  “Space…” I mutter under my breath.

  Whoever runs this organization is fixated on the outer reaches of our galaxy. I can’t name any of the nebulas or constellations that I see besides the big and little dipper, but I know enough to recognize that these are places that mankind will never reach in my lifetime.

  I observe a pointy decal pasted on the door at the other end of the room. It is a spire, reaching up into the sky.

  I’m about to walk over to the table to my right and get a closer look at one of the metallic wrist-bands when a voice comes out of nowhere.

  “I can’t say I wasn’t expecting you.”

  I look up and my eyes dart to every corner of the room. I don’t see anyone in here with me, and there are no speakers that I can identify, so there is no visible source of the voice. The hair on my arms stands on end, but I solidify my stance, comforted a little by the fact that I’m disguised with my Aberrant costume.

  “Where are you?” I say, raising my voice to be heard over the hum of the machinery.

  My eyes widen as directly ahead, in front of the glass door, the air begins to ripple. I can make out the edges of a man’s figure, and it occurs to me in a split second that the cloaked person who attacked me in the sky is suddenly walking towards me.

  I raise my hands in a defensive position and call out, “Stop right there!”

  But, the figure does not stop. Instead he laughs.

  “I don’t take orders from you,” he says.

  I still can’t make out any features in the rippling figure’s outline.

  The chameleonic man walks casually towards me as if I am merely an annoying fly instead of a super-powered being. I am mesmerized by the shimmering water-like surface of his suit, whatever it’s made of.

  “I tried so hard to groom you,” he says, waving a glistening hand out to the side. “I tried to make you see things my way. But, did you ever stop and seriously consider everything I was telling you?” He pauses to shake his head. “Not once. You had everything figured out - everything perfectly aligned in the glass bubble that your father made for you.”

  I blink a few times.

  “My father?” I say.

  I’m in full uniform, so whoever this is behind the shifting colors must either know me, or be bluffing. But, I don’t know anyone capable of this degree of technology. Even The Drone doesn’t possess the ability to blend into his surroundings with the Vestige, and Mae and I are the only ones with pieces of the medallion embedded in our costumes.

  I scuff my foot on the tiled floor and stand my ground.

  “How do you know my father?”

  “He worked with me,” says the man with a hint of amusement in his voice. “The same way that I also worked with you, Shaun.”

  “Worked with me…?”

  As this statement runs through my head, the man reaches behind his head and activates some switch or a button, which slices a line vertically down the front of his face. He pries the mask apart, which appears to be some sort of synthetic fabric, to reveal a familiar set of handsome features. He is just shaking his matted hair free when I wring my hands against the flaps of my jacket.

  “Austin?”

  29

  The Master Plan

  “Just like a predictable plot in a comic book,” says Austin as he walks towards me, “you walked right into my trap.”

  My hands tremble at my sides as the computerized levels on my visor start to go haywire, being overcome with static. I end up pulling the visor from my face, even if it reveals my true identity. Seeing as Austin already knows that it’s me under here, the disguise hardly does me any good.

  “Where is The Drone?” I demand.

  Austin smiles at me.

  “He’s safe. Don’t worry about him. This meeting is just between you and me.”

  “How in the world are you capable of all of this?” I ask, the trembling in my hands moving on to my arms and torso.

  “That’s a long story,” Austin replies, continuing to make his way menacingly towards me. “One that I’m not going to get into right now.”

  I shake my head, squeezing my hands into fists to stop the shaking.

  “You attacked me in the sky…” I mutter. It’s ridiculous to think that Austin, the man who was so eager to collaborate with me on my comic series, is the one responsible for my losing consciousness in the sky - the fall from which could have paralyzed me, or worse if Mae hadn’t caught me.

  My nails cut into the pads of my hands.

  “Why are you manipulating me like this?” I ask. I’m at a loss as to what the point of all this technology is, if not to make a select few people physically more powerful than the rest of the population.

  Austin simply smiles at me.

  “You can see the answer to that question with your own eyes,” he says and the cloaking on one of his arms disappears to show him holding out what looks like a cell phone with a massive screen.

  I take a step forward to close the gap between us and, not wanting to touch the device, simply study the image displayed on it from where I stand.

  “What am I supposed to be looking at?” I ask, staring incredulously at the image on Austin’s screen.

  “That is the Black Knight,” says Austin. “An alien satellite discovered in our planet’s orbit nearly eighty years ago.” He looks reverentially towards the ceiling, then adds, “It’s probably been up there a lot longer than that, though.”

  I frown and study the image. The picture shows what is clearly the Earth’s globular surface, arcing at the bottom of the frame. Above is the light blue of the stratosphere, then the blackness of space. But, slicing through those layers in the middle of the picture is a jagged, black object that’s shaped like the blade of a crude steak knife.

  “And what is the point of this supposedly alien satellite?” I ask, stepping back.

  “The point of it is to observe the world,” Austin answers. “Our world. To study humanity. To figure out our routines, our habits. Maybe to transmit information about us to other alien satellites that collect data. There’s no doubt in my mind that these beings are out there, and that they are intelligent. This satellite has been in our orbit since before we as a species sent anything into space. That means that this object did not come from our planet.”

  I don’t want to take stock in what Austin is saying, but I try to humor him, treating everything with a grain of salt.

  “Alright,” I say. “So, it’s an alien satellite - supposedly. I’m sure our government and the rest of the world’s leaders will tell us if it’s a true threat to mankind.”

  Austin shakes his head violently, stowing his phone device in a hidden pocket of his costume and he brings his fists up to his temples.

  “You’re not getting it,” he says, squeezing his eyes shut. “The government isn’t doing any
thing to prepare for this - to prepare us for this invasion. So, we’re going to prepare ourselves. We are going to be ready when these visitors make their first contact. Ready to fight.”

  I can’t even believe what I’m hearing. It’s as if I have stepped into an episode of The Twilight Zone. Aliens? Close encounters? This stuff is all nuts!

  But, Austin speaks to me with complete seriousness in his voice. He’s completely bought into the conspiracy theories that he’s read, and he wants to drag me into this mess along with him.

  I should have listened more closely to the hints that he planted during all of our development meetings.

  If he thinks that I’m going to drink the poisoned cool-aid, I hate to tell him that it’s not going to happen. My blood begins to boil as the things he said over the past few weeks play over and over in my mind.

  “Everyone will have to obey us, once we reveal the truth,” he says with a glint in his eye. “They will join our cause, or they will be left to the mercy of the alien forces that seek to overthrow us. After all, with your cooperation, Spire Tech will look like gods among men. Who can say no to an Aberrant?”

  He motions to my shirt collar, but little does he know that the Vestige isn’t hanging around my neck. I am incredibly thankful that Mae and I decided to hide our medallion pieces in our costumes.

  The outrageousness of this entire situation - using hypothetical alien encounters as a base for containing and monopolizing all the Aberrant power in the world as well as the population - makes me want to throw something at him.

  “Are you absolutely crazy?” I yell, unable to keep my rage from flowing forth. All of these attacks, all of these times I’ve been put in danger, were because of some ridiculous alien theory? “You’re talking like a cult leader! My father would never agree with you, or your cause. You are a lunatic if you think that aliens brought the Vestige to this planet, or that anyone is going to follow your orders!”

  Austin holds up his hands in a shushing motion.