Infected 8: Impulse: A Whole New Day

by P. S. Power

  Next to him, at a rather plain wooden table, was Lancaster, who seemed more than a bit ticked off, and her dad, Scott. He got up and walked around the table to collect his own embrace, as soon as Kevin let go.

  "There she is! I hear you had a bit of a day?" He looked normal for him, or nearly so. His clothing was plain, compared to what he used to wear. His hair was shorter too. Not as perfectly brushed, but tidy looking. His golden skin and lavender eyes looked like always, but his face was more relaxed.

  He'd been like that ever since he'd gotten sick, a few weeks before. He'd nearly died, but came back to them... Changed. Happier, she thought. Less impressed with himself, too.

  She was still being pulled about by the arm, since her mother was still clinging to the idea that she might be shaken into misbehaving. Daryl pointed at the hold, and gave Charlot a cold stare that had her mother turning away a bit. She knew what she was doing, and had already been called on it once. Two people doing it would piss her right the hell off.

  Bridget cleared her throat, and winked at her father.

  "Not too bad. A bit of a change in plans, at a couple of spots, but I think it will actually work better. I'm still alive, as far as the government is concerned, which I think means that Doug and I are the IPB for now. Do you think they'll give me a raise? I bet they put Tibs in as the new Director. I'm too young. Hardly fair, given that I have all that time in grade over him. Seniority rules. Or it should." She wasn't really upset about it, but that line of thinking did get her mother to let go of her arm, and turn on Kevin, as if it were his fault that things had gone even the tiniest bit sideways.

  "We can't let that happen. Can we?" She moved from dark and angry to actually questioning in a few words.

  The Director let his face go blank and shrugged.

  "You know, that might not be the worst case scenario. If they actually think we're gone, or most of us are, there may be a push to keep the rest of the organization intact. There are the other Agents and Operatives left, since not all of them will have fled in time. How is that being received?"

  That let her inform them about her clever idea. She liked it, and thought it seemed about right.

  "Protocol. Everyone was supposed to run, if we were hit like that. To protect themselves and possibly the public. I need to add that last bit, when I talk to them in the morning. It sounds about like what that old codger that used to be in charge of the IPB would have said, don'cha think, Kevin?" She was being sassy, but the man just nodded a bit, his silver hair not moving much.

  "Really, that does. It will explain why everyone went to ground and won't let themselves be found. An unknown attack protocol... It isn't like they can check the base records for it. Then, the others can be collected by you and Mr. Tibs. It won't just sell the story, but probably protect you from most of the troubles that were headed our way. Then the biggest threat will be from Devorah and Tess. Trivia as well, of course. You can't underestimate her. In a way she is the most competent being in the world." He said that a bit roughly, as if he'd nearly forgotten that the woman was supposed to not be on their side. It was the kind of breech that could have her caught, if they weren't careful.

  Braid didn't read minds, but if anyone slipped up and spoke about it openly, it was just possible that she could have a spy in place. Anyone could be her tool, after all. It was part of how her ability worked, Bridget figured. She could use her knowledge of what the correct future needed to come to pass in order to bribe, or corrupt, almost anyone. If there was a way to do it, then she could find it and probably make it happen. Not that Bridget knew for certain. It was complex, and normally too hard to beat, for regular little brained people like her. Or geniuses, for that matter.

  When your adversary was able to literally look into the future and see what you were doing, it was hard to beat them. Really, there only seemed to be a couple of ways. You either had your own super predictor, and played a game of "I know that you know that we know that you're going to do X" or you found blind spots in the other person's abilities.

  Blinking, the idea actually clicked in place suddenly. She'd been told that before, that they had to work from blind spots, come at the woman from unexpected directions, but it had never really occurred to her that they could make their own. For instance, her friend Becky was apparently invisible to anything that Braid could see or understand. Brian was too, if for other reasons, and if that was the case, then Christian, the uber telepath who was pushing Dharma into everyone's minds for them, wasn't traceable on that level either. If she was then Braid would be able to see Becky too.

  For a long time she'd just been assuming that everyone was being seen all the time, but they did a lot of things that weren't actually visible, didn't they? True, that still meant a lot of things would be known, but...

  She smiled, and looked at the people in the room with her. She loved them all, as family, and she might just be willing to jump into bed with Daryl if he'd let her, which so far hadn't gone too well. A few years before, when she'd been being a bit bad and trying to sneak into bed with guys, she'd done that to him. Rather than get him hard and ready, she'd been shot. In the head. Three times, which was excellent aim, for a pitch black room. It hadn't hurt, but was shocking enough that she hadn't done more with him than some close cuddling since.

  Really, her night vision was pretty good, but in an underground room with no lights on, all she could see was the glow of heat signatures. So until the weapon had fired, there had been nothing for her to notice as it was brought around. So, it had been invisible, right until it was too late. At least it would have been, if she couldn't shrug off things like that with no more than ringing ears and a bit of dizziness.

  Was Devorah Timberland the same way? Could they hide a trap from her and spring it on her in a fashion that was just too fast for her to deal with?

  If she honestly needed to see things, then even hiding from her in a pitch black room might be enough to throw her off.

  Which was probably just her being silly. Wouldn't someone smarter than her have figured that out already if it were the case? Then, who was to say it hadn't been? People didn't know to tell her about that kind of thing yet. Even if they should. Bridget was thought of as a weak link, and that wasn't totally wrong, even now. She was getting better, but would she have trusted her with the deepest plans, if she were in charge? Probably not.

  She could do it, however. Bridget knew that, now. It would be hard, but she had the discipline she needed to get it done.

  Sobering she considered all of that, and looked at Kevin, holding his gaze after a moment with her own. Her eyes were nearly red, with just enough brown to make them seem human, and not like she were an alien. Like her grandmother, Rachel. The Director had known her the longest, being that they'd built the IPB together, and had been around Bridget her entire life. He'd think of her like she used to be, she didn't doubt. Impulsive, dangerous and flighty. Not a good risk for that kind of info dump.

  He'd be right not to trust her too. It was still pretty difficult, sitting there, knowing what she thought she might, not to call out what she was thinking. That was a sign that someone like him would have to consider a bad thing, if he knew. If there were ways to make blind spots however, they could win. It would be hard, and be pretty dangerous, since messing up was a one way ticket to dead, but she could, possibly, get it done.

  No one in the whole world would expect her to. Well, except possibly Trivia, and maybe Christian Pours, if she was paying attention at the time. Trivia simply knew everything that anyone else did, and would also know if it was true or not. So she wasn't influenced by dramatic and self-important teen girls too much. Smiling, again, Bridget blinked slowly, which was a Lancaster move. He did it when he was about to start fighting. She wasn't, but he stared at her, his face suddenly going wary. The man started reaching for his sidearm, too. Since she wasn't going to be hurt by bullets and he wouldn't miss at this range, she just winked at him, trying to reassure him that she wasn't throwing down
with the Director or him.

  "Braid and Tesseract already paid a visit. They claimed to be there to trade information, and provided some that sounds real. We're dealing with that, and in a way I bet will get around her, too. I nearly killed Tesseract. So did Tibs. He was saved by a couple of future versions of himself, which was totally cheating. By the way, he also called me 'his love' which was really creepy. I mean, he's cute enough, but really, he could have brought flowers and given me dinner first, you know? I don't know if that was just to throw me off or not. Braid ended up with two broken legs, and Charity got a full soda can to the back of the head. Coconut water, actually. From them, it wasn't me doing that part. I ended up having to trade for the information, with Devorah Timberland getting to tell me something that I didn't know about myself, which is supposed to help her plan. I guess that's true info, anyway. I don't see it, but that may be the point." She took a breath, and went on, covering what the info about the Elcampayns was.

  Then, after explaining it all for a while, her father leaned across the blond colored wood of the table top, and looked curiously at her.

  "What did she tell you, then? About yourself I mean? I can't think of anything that involves your mother or I. I mean, medical has assured me that we're both your biological parents, for instance. I checked, after that thing with Brian and I." Where the other man was Prime's father, and how much that had really thrown him to find out, went unsaid.

  She understood it however. She'd been taken by surprise there, too.

  Everyone involved had been, except for Mary and Rachel. Those two had known the whole time. Mary at least hadn't known her before about half a year back, so couldn't have mentioned to her that she might not want to fall in love with a certain government agent. Rachel had known however. Yeah, Bridget got that it would have been hard to explain, given the time travel, and all that junk, but she could have done something. Couldn't she?

  Shaking her head so she wouldn't be too caught up in her thoughts, she just blurted out the answer.

  "Oh. That I'm actually a class eight. I don't see how that can be, unless I get awesome time travel, or space bendy powers, on top of what I have now. That or predictive abilities, like Braid has? She kind of suggested that one, really, but that could be a ruse. Or... Maybe a lot better super speed? I don't think I'm getting a lot quicker though. I top out at about two hundred and sixty in a sprint now. So that could just be misinformation. Class seven, I could buy. Eight seems a bit farfetched." She shrugged, making her narrow shoulders nearly touch her ears, which was an old habit of hers. She'd noticed that she could do it one day when she was about nine, and had just taken to doing it when she wanted to show that she didn't know anything.

  The problem there was that what worked for her back then made her into kind of a joke now. Even if she wanted to be taken seriously, and was talking about things that might impact the whole world someday. That meant paying attention and trying to break a habit, which would be pretty hard for her. For instance, without even thinking about it, she did it again, before she managed to take a few breaths and force herself not to again.

  The room had gone silent, and everyone looked away, except Daryl, who shrugged back. His broad shoulders barely moved however.

  "That's about right. Your energy blasts are coming online and you can fly now, if poorly. Part of that will be down to learning how to control them. Physically, I doubt that even getting stronger or faster would be enough to push you into class eight. So, she's either trying to get us to second guess you, or you have something we haven't seen, yet. That would probably be related to your current powers, but until something happens, we won't know, one way or the other."

  She could see that, and screwed up her face a bit. Her mother was sitting directly next to her, and was trying to squeeze her arm, she thought. She could feel it, but it didn't hurt, so only by glancing down could she see that her mom's fingers were turning all white and red, like regular people's did when they were using a lot of force.

  Ignoring that, she shrugged again, and sat up straight. This time she just let her shoulders move a little bit, like everyone else did.

  "I can't see that it's a huge issue. My guess? She just needed something to say and went with that, since very little would really get me to do anything in particular. Not that would help her. So that's just what she had ready to go. That, or she wants me to get a big head and think that what I leave in the bathroom doesn't stink. That's stupid though. I mean, yes, I'm awesome, but so is almost everyone else I know." Except for her enemies, but that was just her being mean and surly, not due to them sucking in all they did. There was no sane way not to be a little impressed with Tesseract, for instance. Braid... She was about as dangerous as a person could get, but did her job of being a crazy loon nearly perfectly. Bridget would have to give props there, she decided. Right after she killed them.

  Lancaster lifted his chin and looked away, grabbing his knee and leaning back. It was a strange move, meant to help him stretch and stay ready, not just be comfortable. That was probably due to the fact that her mom was glowing.

  Not just her hands either. All over. It was a white nimbus of power, which she normally only manifested when she was about to blast someone. It was about as strong in effect as a good gun, normally. From the look of things she was getting ready to take out a good sized portion of the room they were in, however. That was impressive too, Bridget decided, since she hadn't know her mother was even capable of anything like that.

  She spoke though, which explained it all, very nicely, Bridget thought.

  "That... Woman... is trying to play with your mind? I will not allow that!" Then she growled, which was a lot more feral and angry than seemed fitting.

  Bridget, who wasn't in any personal danger, decided to take that in stride.

  Leaning forward, she locked eyes with Kevin again.

  "That isn't a problem. I can control for that, I think. If she wasn't trying to do that, then she'd be foolish. That kind of thing is what she'll believe is my weakest area. That's wrong of course, my greatest weakness is... Cake." She tried to tell the story with her eyes and expression, but was a probably just making goofy faces at him. So she included Lancaster. Her parents wouldn't listen to her, it was possible that they couldn't, and Kevin wasn't likely to either.

  The former IPB Agent however was different that way. He always listened. Normally before he told her that she was being a brat, or not thinking straight, but he paid attention first, and when she'd been right, he'd made sure it counted. The trick here was that she couldn't tell them all what she thought she'd figured out about Braid.

  That would give it all away.

  "Do you understand? She'd be, missing things, if she did that. It's not a good thing to do. Missing ideas and data, like that." Then, as hard as she could, she bit her own tongue. It didn't hurt, but it prevented talking, even as she made some noise in her throat. Her parents understood that one, and so did the others. It was her old trick for making certain she didn't say something that shouldn't be muttered out loud.

  It was Lancaster who nodded, and then looked at the Director.

  "Understood. We need to get you and Tibs back into place. If you can keep the IPB going, that would be good. Just because a faction in the government was going to try and take us down, that doesn't mean that our job is done. If an event takes place, someone is going to have to handle it. Right now you and Gravity are all that's left. You'll need to build things back up, if you can. Get new people in. Replace all the dead ones."

  She nodded, "I know. Don't worry. We'll change the name though. I'm thinking we can call ourselves the Super-Duper Duo. That, or the Mongooses. That's a good team name. The IPB is just confusing. I mean, Infected Protection Bureau? Are we supposed to protect the Infected, or the norms? I think half the problems we've had come down to people not knowing which side we were supposed to be on. Now, the Mongooses, well, everyone would know we were anti-snake, right off the bat." She was deflecting, since her mother
was still glowing a bit, but Kevin wrinkled his nose at her.

  It was a good and commanding nose, if that was a thing. Centered on a face that people would instantly trust, and that a lot had, over the years. He was their main public speaker. That was probably going to be Doug now. He was a good guy, but too new for that kind of thing. They'd need someone else and she, while darling in the right outfit, wasn't going to be able to do the job believably either.

  Kevin cleared his throat.

  "You aren't totally wrong. Not about changing the name, since you need the continuity right now, but that people just didn't really understand what we were there for. You should clarify that, if you can? I never worked out how, but you might have a trick or two that I couldn't envision. Now, I think that Daryl here is correct. We need to get you and Mr. Tibs back into place. The others as well. You mentioned a Charity?"

  That started a completely different conversation, which it occurred to her he probably already had rehearsed. He knew who Charity was, because Lancaster would have told him, so his words were meant to influence her, not be an indication that he was taken by surprise.

  "As a class three, you're required by law to bring her into the IPB, as an Operative. That, or get a Death Warrant for her, if she refuses to comply. We don't normally speak about that kind of thing, but the fact is, if you and Mr. Tibs are going to be forced to take over, you have to understand the realities." There was no real suggestion that she do that, however. Get a Death Warrant for a schoolgirl. She could tell, by the subtle head shaking he was doing. If by subtle they were including things that could make most people sea-sick. It was the kind of thing she did, a lot of the time, which, after a moment, she realized was down to the fact that the Director knew that about her and was trying to communicate like she normally did, in order to influence her.

  It was a good plan. One she decided to copy, if at all possible.

  Bridget looked away and examined the wooden wall, not wanting to seem too easily led, at the moment. The whole place was big, but seemed like a log cabin almost. The work was new too, so it had been stylistically chosen, which was a bit strange. Why go rustic like that, if they could have had anything they wanted? It looked nice however, and different than where they had been. That could have been the reason why, she guessed. Less like a hotel, and more like a home.