Sentinels

by Darius Brasher

  If I didn’t already know about the Omega spirit, I would have thought I was on a bad acid trip.

  “Are you all the Omega spirit?” I asked.

  “We are,” returned the countless voices.

  Then it hit me. My fight against the V’Loths, my marriage to Neha, having a son with her . . . none of it had been real. Well, there were aspects of it that had actually happened back in 1966. Trying to use the telepathic 13-year-old Vaughn to take down the V’Loths had really occurred, as had Vaughn’s death when he had been transported to Baltimore. A bunch of Heroes dying had really happened too, as had Mechano designing a futuristic communications system that was jammed by the V’Loths. But my own involvement in the battle with the V’Loths was a complete fantasy. Real historical events from the 20th century had been mixed with people from my life in the 21st century to create an immersive fantasy, like a virtual reality construct that had seemed one hundred percent real.

  It had all been a test to see if I was worthy of wielding the Omega weapon. First the Lotus-induced fantasy during the Trials where my parents were still alive and I had a girlfriend who loved me, now this fantasy where I was happily married to Neha with a son. Why were my dream worlds always so much better than my real world? I was heartily sick of people testing me and my resolve. I thought I had put tests behind me when I completed the Trials.

  “Life is a test, Theodore. You should know that by now,” the voices of the Omega spirit said, as if they had read my mind. Maybe mind reading was as common as breathing here. Wherever here was.

  “We are in your subconscious,” the voices said in answer to my unspoken thought. “Your struggle against the V’Loths played out entirely in your mind. Your corporeal body is still lying on the floor of The Mountain.”

  “So you’re saying I’m talking to myself right now?”

  “In a fashion. You are us, and we are you,” the Omega spirit said. “Now it is time for you to return to your world. Darkness unlike the world has ever known approaches. The world will need the protection of the Omega like never before. Go forth and serve it wisely.”

  The room and all the figures it contained began to fall apart and disappear, like a house of Legos rapidly torn apart piece by piece.

  “Wait!” I cried out. “I have so many questions. Why me? Why did you choose me for the Omega spirit?”

  “Because despite your flaws, youth, inexperience, lapses in judgment, spotty pre-Heroic education—”

  “I hope something positive is coming sometime soon,” I interjected. Sometimes I couldn’t help myself.

  “Despite all those things, you try to do the right thing. The trying is all.” The countless faces smiled at me fondly. “Besides, why not you?”

  Before I could ask the Omega spirit exactly what darkness was approaching and what in blazes I was supposed to do about it, the seated figures and the room winked out of existence. I floated alone in an inky black void.

  * * *

  My eyes snapped open like my eyelids had been yanked on. I lay face up on the hard rock floor of The Mountain. Who knew being a Hero would entail so much being flat on your back? You would think Heroing would be more restful than it was.

  My right hand clutched the cape that had been hidden in the cavity under the neutronium spear. I faintly heard a moan. It came from me. I tried to stop, but couldn’t. Moaning seemed the right thing to do right now. I had felt no pain in the room I had spoken to the Omega spirit in. I felt plenty now. All the pain I had been in from my encounter with the Sentinels and me overextending myself to move the neutronium spear was back with a vengeance.

  Isaac knelt over me. His face was streaked with tears. It showed anguish mixed with astonishment. His eyes were red. He said, “You touched the cape a few minutes ago, and passed out. Then, you stopped breathing. I did CPR, but you wouldn’t revive. I thought you were dead.”

  “Death would be a mercy,” I croaked weakly. I was joking, yet it wasn’t far from the truth. How was I supposed to protect the world from some sort of encroaching darkness in this condition? I doubted I could protect it from an anemic butterfly feeling like this.

  Isaac’s eyes left my face and got very wide, like he was watching a dog stand upright and start to recite poetry. “What in the world is happening?”

  I tilted my aching head to see what he stared at. Avatar’s cape was moving, writhing like a snake. It seeped slowly into my hand, like water being soaked up by a thirsty sponge.

  “I think this is supposed to happen,” I said, not even knowing myself how I knew that. I was strangely calm despite the fact a long piece of fabric burrowed into me like a worm into an apple.

  My hand tingled. Then my arm. Then my entire body as the cape entered me. Soon its fabric had entirely disappeared. I burst into flames, as if I had been doused in gasoline and lit.

  “Jesus!” Isaac exclaimed. He jumped back in shock. He shimmered slightly and leveled his arms at me, no doubt planning to drench me using one of his water-generating forms.

  “No!” I said sharply. “I’m fine.”

  I was more than fine. The fire didn’t hurt at all. If anything, it was pleasant, like soaking in a hot bath after an exhausting day. My clothes burned off me as I watched in wonder. Their ashes floated heavenward like motes of disturbed dust.

  The flames abruptly extinguished themselves. Now I was as naked as a newborn baby. But not only that. I was as healthy as a newborn too. All the burning and discoloration of my skin caused by Mechano’s attack were gone, along with all my aches, pains, and injuries. My hearing and vision were back to normal. My cracked teeth were healed. I felt good enough to wrestle a bear. I would have even been willing to give the bear the first swipe at me.

  Choose, something deep inside of me whispered. It was the same combination of countless voices I had spoken to earlier. I heard them not with my ears, but with the essence of my being. That sounds strange because it was. And yet, at the same time, it seemed the most natural thing in the world.

  I instinctually knew what the voices meant. They wanted me to choose how the Omega weapon would manifest for me. King Arthur had the sword Excalibur, Rama had his bow Pinaka, Beowulf had his sword Nægling. Toting a sword or a bow or a similar weapon did not seem appropriate in the modern world. I was not Robin Hood or one of his Merry Men.

  Omega Man had the clasp that secured his cape around his neck. Avatar had the cape I had just absorbed. Something more along the lines of how those Heroes had manifested the Omega weapon seemed more sensible than wielding an actual weapon like King Arthur or Beowulf had.

  I made my decision. In response, the surface of my skin began to feel ticklish, as if a giant feather rubbed lightly against me. Dark blue specks swam up from inside of me to the surface of my skin. There they rapidly expanded, like numerous pools of spilled blue ink. They connected with each other, coating all my naked body like a second skin from the neck down. Then they thickened and hardened, forming a flexible but incredibly strong body armor. A ghost white omega symbol crystallized on my chest.

  I knew the importance of symbols thanks to my studies at the Academy. That was why I had made my new costume look this way. I had picked blue because psychological studies indicated that someone wearing it was viewed as trustworthy and dependable. It was no accident that police departments often clothed their officers in blue. I had picked the omega symbol for the obvious reason: I was the Omega. Cassandra and the Sentinels had told me that before. Now I knew it with every fiber of my being.

  It is done, said the voices from within me, this time in a deafening roar. All hail the new Omega.

  My costume complete, I levitated to my feet. In addition to being completely healthy again, I felt an exhilarating rush, like I could do absolutely anything. I stared down at my suit-covered hands. Normally I saw faint waves of power emanating from them. Now the waves were so thick and intense, it almost made me dizzy to look at them. Also, my hands’ normal burning sensation now felt like the burning of a supernova. It was n
ot painful though. It felt like the most natural thing in the world.

  I clenched my fist, almost drunk with the power coursing through me. I sensed the rumbling of a distant mountain many miles away. Startled, I realized I caused it. I unclenched my fist and relaxed my will. I felt the distant rumbling stop. Dealing with all this power from the Omega weapon being reunited with the Omega spirit would take some getting used to.

  I looked up. Isaac stared at me with bulging eyes, like I had sprouted a second head that spoke Aramaic. Proving he was never at a loss for words, he said, “Not that I’m criticizing your snazzy new threads, but what about sticking with your Kinetic suit’s design? I kinda liked it.”

  “Kinetic is dead,” I declared. “I am Omega now.”

  CHAPTER 24

  “Omega, eh?” Truman said. He pursed his lips thoughtfully. “I like it. I’m just glad you didn’t opt for a code name like Godling or Demigod. Too pretentious.”

  “I’m so happy you approve,” I said.

  Isaac and I sat in Truman’s office. It was mid-morning. As a repairman had fixed Truman’s window, the morning sun streamed in. We were strategizing how we would try to defeat the Sentinels now that I had the Omega weapon. Though my power level had been increased exponentially, having the Omega weapon made me no smarter or wiser. I felt like a child who had been handed a loaded howitzer and told to go fight the U.S. Marines.

  Though I appeared to be sitting in Truman’s office in normal clothes, in fact I wore the Omega weapon. I would have to start thinking of it as the Omega suit. I had found I could alter its appearance with a thought. It promised to really cut down on my clothing expenses. The Omega suit was now a part of me until I either gave it up or was killed. I had no plans to do either anytime soon.

  It turned out that while Isaac and I had been retrieving the Omega weapon, Truman had been productive as well. He had determined that Antonio was hiding in a small village in southern Italy, having been shipped out of the country by the Esposito crime family to keep him from being questioned by American authorities regarding Hannah’s murder. The Espositos were likely also afraid Antonio would spill the beans regarding all the illegal things he had done for them over the years if he cracked under pressure from the authorities. According to Truman’s sources, Antonio was having a grand old time banging the local girls and bullying the local boys while he cooled his heels. Antonio having the time of his life while Hannah moldered in her grave made my blood boil.

  Now that I knew where Antonio was, I would have to deal with him. But first, the Sentinels. Because of the power they possessed, they were the more pressing matter.

  As if on cue, a man in a dark business suit abruptly appeared in front of Truman’s desk between where Isaac and I sat. He appeared out of nowhere. One moment he was not there, and the next instant he was.

  Before either Isaac or I could react, a column of water from the large bowl on Truman’s desk sprang out of the bowl like a striking snake. It whipped toward the interloper’s head. It sailed right through his head as if he didn’t exist, and splashing against the opposite wall.

  Though I barely saw him move, Truman’s gun was now in his hand. He pointed it at the man.

  “Aside from that neat little intangibility trick, you certainly don’t look like Casper the Ghost,” Truman said to the besuited, middle-aged man. “You don’t look that friendly, either. You want to tell me who you are and what you’re doing here? If you’re looking for a place to haunt, I’m not interested. I’m already wrestling with a bunch of demons from my past. I don’t need to add ghosts to the mix.”

  Isaac and I were on our feet now. Isaac looked ready to pounce on the man.

  “I know who he is,” I said, though I had no idea how he was here. He had a thin black moustache and stringy black hair that was receding in the front corners. He was of medium build and looked fit and trim in his dark suit. The suit was well-tailored but dated, as if it had been designed a couple of generations ago. I poked at him experimentally with my telekinetic touch. My touch met with no resistance whatsoever. Even with holographic projections I could feel something. It was as if the man was not really here. “This is Jeffrey Cole.” Isaac looked at me blankly. “Mechano. I recognize him from the pictures taken of him before his human body died.”

  Cole beamed at me as if he was Jeopardy’s Alex Trebek and I had just doubled my money by answering a Daily Double correctly.

  “You’re quite right, Mr. Conley,” he said. “I see you’ve done your homework on me. Admirable.” His voice was like Mechano’s, only without the slight electronic distortion.

  “Okay, now I know who you are,” Truman said. “I still want to know what you’re doing in my office. And how you’re here when your human body is dead. I’m as uninterested in zombies hanging around here as I am in ghosts.”

  Cole looked at Truman. “Mr. Lord, I have not seen you since we hired you to find Avatar’s murderer. I see you have not changed.”

  “Why mess with perfection?” Truman replied.

  “You are obviously working with our young friends here. You have a habit of turning up in the most unexpected of places.”

  “Me?” Truman’s gun still pointed at Cole, though I didn’t know what good it would do. “You’re the dead man standing in my office doing a poltergeist impersonation.”

  Cole pursed his lips in amusement. “You are quite right. A few words of explanation. I am here thanks to the talents of my colleague Millennium. What you see before you is an astral projection of my essence.” He shook his head slightly in bemusement. “I was an engineer long before I was a Hero. As such, I once believed only in what I could touch and objectively measure. Before I met Millennium, I would have scoffed at you if you spoke to me of ‘astral projections’ and ‘essences.’ And yet, here I am.”

  “Don’t let the door hit your astral ass on the way out,” Truman said. “We’re having a private meeting about the joy of doing good deeds. Since you wouldn’t know anything about that, three’s company but four’s a crowd. If we decide to murder innocent people instead of do-gooding, we’ll give you a ring for some tips. Until then . . .” Truman made a shooing motion with his gun.

  Cole laughed mockingly. As self-assured as he sounded in his robot form, he seemed even more so now. There seemed to be a permanent self-satisfied smirk on his face. If there had been something here for me to physically grab hold of, I likely would have wiped the smug look off his face with a hot poker. “Murdering innocent people? Such slanderous allegations. You should not believe everything you hear,” Cole said to Truman in a mocking tone. “You would think that the only man in history to turn down a Sentinels’ membership would be less gullible.”

  Truman said, “You’d think a man made of tin would kill less and hang out with lions and scarecrows and girls named Dorothy more. Actually, I take that back about Dorothy. Since you’re just a bucket of bolts these days, you don’t have the necessary equipment to be interested in girls anymore.”

  Cole’s cocky smirk faltered a bit. “You are as deluded of your wittiness as ever. To paraphrase Twain, I would challenge you to a battle of wits, but I see you are unarmed. Except for that gun, of course. Put it away before you hurt yourself. Like the water you flung at me, I assure you it would be most ineffective against me in this form.”

  Truman’s computer screen flickered, and then shut off. So did the overhead lights, startling me. Cole looked amused by my reaction. “Never fear,” he said. “It is merely a reaction to my appearance here. Magic and technology do not mix well together.” Fortunately, enough daylight came in through Truman’s new window for us to still see.

  Truman looked stubborn for a moment, then put his gun back into his open desk drawer. He no doubt realized Cole was right about the gun being useless. I noticed he did not close the drawer back.

  “Okay, we know who you are and how you are here,” Truman said. “The question of why you’re here remains. To confess your multiple sins and crimes and turn yourself in, I ho
pe. Truman ‘The Eternal Optimist’ Lord is what they call me. Maybe I’ll take the code name Pollyanna, instead. It’s shorter.”

  That got a slight smile out of Cole. He looked like he was enjoying himself immensely. “Hardly. You will hear no confession from me. Any alleged sins I may have committed have been in pursuit of the greater good. They require no absolution.” Cole looked at me. “Rather, I’m here to demand that you turn over the Omega weapon.”

  I hoped the surprise I felt didn’t register on my face. “I told you before, I don’t know anything about it.”

  Cole’s smile got broader. “Mr. Conley, you have proven yourself to be many things. A good liar is not one of them. The Omega spirit’s reunion with the Omega weapon sent shockwaves through the mystical realm. Or so Millennium tells me. I am a man of engineering and science. I do not understand such things. The fact I do not understand them does not mean they do not exist. My presence here in this form is proof enough of that. Once Millennium sensed the Omega spirit and weapon were together again, it was a simple enough matter for him to pinpoint the locus of the shockwaves and send me here to have this chat with you. You I was expecting to see, Mr. Geere. You and Mr. Conley seem to be inseparable. I did not realize you were mixed up in this as well though, Mr. Lord.”

  “A bad penny always turns up,” Truman said. “You being here is proof enough of that.”

  “Even if Theo did have the Omega weapon,” Isaac said to Cole, “why in the world would he be stupid enough to hand it over to you after all you’ve done?”

  “Because he is too young and inexperienced to use it wisely. My colleagues and I will use it wisely.”

  I didn’t see the point of continuing to pretend that I didn’t have it. “Avatar hid it from you for a reason. He must have known or at least suspected that you weren’t to be trusted. I’d destroy it before I gave it to you.”