Balance of Power

by Stan Lee

  She was there, Steven thought, in Lystria. She participated in the slaughter, the murder of all those people. Maybe actively, maybe just by standing by. But she’s the only Vanguard agent we know who worked with Maxwell back then.

  Which means she’s the only one who knows where Lystria is.

  “Where is it?” he asked.

  “I don’t think I’ll tell you.” She smiled. “But I’ll be happy to guide an expedition there.”

  He stood, fuming. This is all out of control. We’re about to embark on the biggest mission of our careers, and nobody will listen to me. How can I trust these guys when—

  “Celine,” Malik said, “stop playing with the boy.”

  He strode up and stared her right in the face. Celine touched his muscular chest playfully. “You want to make me?”

  They both burst out laughing.

  “I’m just messing with you, kid,” Celine said. “Lystria is in Africa, just south of Egypt. I’ll text you the exact coordinates.”

  “Stop calling me kid,” he said.

  “Sorry,” Celine replied.

  Steven turned away. They don’t respect me, he thought. It’s just like dealing with Dad.

  “I wanted to show you something.” Malik gestured toward the screen surrounding the unknown vehicle. He seemed all business again, his expression serious. Reluctantly, Steven followed him away from the stealth jet, toward the far side of the bay.

  “Don’t be a stranger, kid,” Celine called. “I still owe you a drink.”

  Malik led the way around the wide jet. “Ignore her,” he said, his voice barely audible over the sound of power tools. He pulled aside a flap in the screen and ushered Steven inside.

  A group of five or six people in protective clothing swarmed around a familiar cone-shaped vehicle. They carried Plexiglas shielding and oxygen tanks, industrial piping, and searchlights. They crawled over the vehicle, welding attachments to the outside, hauling supplies and equipment inside through the small hatch.

  “The drill-ship,” Steven said. “That’s the thing we escaped from Australia in.”

  “I had to pull all available staff to help. But I think we can equip it to function underwater.”

  Steven nodded, eyeing the oxygen tanks. “Two Vanguard vehicles to fight Vanguard,” Steven said. “Good thinking.”

  A pair of technicians was installing a large rudder on the back of the ship. Billy entered the area with a hand truck, transporting a strange gadget. It was basically a long hose with a series of high-tech filters and an oxygen mask attached.

  “That’s the device Duane worked up,” Steven said. “For Roxanne.”

  “We’ll get it installed,” Malik said. “Your parents have provided some useful equipment, too.”

  “That’s them. Useful.”

  Malik looked over sharply at the tone in Steven’s voice. When he spoke again, he seemed to choose his words carefully.

  “Steven, I’d like to lead the other team. To Lystria.”

  Steven frowned.

  “If you don’t trust me,” Malik continued, “I’ll bring Liam along. I could use him….He’s good in a fight.”

  “Sure,” Steven said. “That makes sense.”

  “I’d also like Duane. His power disrupts machinery….He might be able to help knock out the Dragon’s seismic equipment.”

  “No.” Steven shook his head. “Duane has to stay here. We need him to monitor the worldwide volcano situation and coordinate between the two teams.”

  Malik’s expression grew dark. As he stared down at Steven, the faintest image of an Ox appeared above his head. “I really think—”

  “Are you telling me that a squadron of ex-Vanguard agents can’t manage to smash a couple machines? With the toughest member of my team along to help?”

  A piercing whine cut through the air. Steven looked over to see a large drill boring into the side of the ship. Two technicians stood by with a missile launcher, preparing to mount it on the outer hull.

  “We can smash the machines,” Malik said.

  “Good,” Steven replied. “Just get this ship ready.”

  He turned and strode away, not wanting to see Malik’s expression.

  “It’s worse than I thought,” Duane said. “The seismic activity is increasing. Japan just experienced an enormous earthquake…and there’s an even bigger one happening right now, in central Chile.”

  Duane gestured at the big wall screen in the war room. Steven looked up just as a news headline flashed onto the screen: CRISIS IN SANTIAGO, SURROUNDING AREAS. The screen was muted, but a grim-faced anchorwoman stood before a grainy film clip of buildings collapsing and people running for their lives.

  Duane sat at the main computer console, taking in information from a dozen screens: seismic levels, casualties, tomographic images, reports of volcanic activity, fluid analyses from the volcano observatories. Steven leaned in close to him and spoke in a quiet voice, too low for the technicians around them to hear.

  “Have you reviewed my plan?”

  A look of panic crossed Duane’s face. “Yes,” he said quietly.

  “Well?”

  “It’s very risky. I—I cannot endorse it.”

  “You don’t have to endorse it. Just don’t tell anyone else.” He stood up straight and spoke in a normal voice. “Break it down for me? The Dragon situation, I mean.”

  Duane grimaced and turned back to his screens. As his head swiveled back and forth, the glowing Pig appeared above him.

  “It all comes down to Tamu Massif,” he said, pointing at a blurry image of an underwater volcano. “Once that blows, the chain reaction will be irreversible.”

  “And when is that going to happen?”

  “Four hours.” A nervous edge crept into Duane’s voice. “Maybe five.”

  Four hours, Steven thought. That’s not a lot of time.

  They looked up at a clanking sound. Roxanne and Josie clomped toward them in heavy diving equipment, holding round helmets. Roxanne jostled a technician at his station and hurriedly apologized.

  Duane tensed at the sight of them. Steven leaned in and whispered in his ear: “Remember. Don’t tell anyone.”

  Roxanne elbowed Josie playfully. “The Horse here has been teaching me the basics of deep-sea diving.”

  “Best I could do on dry land, anyway,” Josie said. “I hope we won’t have to use these suits much.”

  Steven nodded. Whatever had happened between Roxanne and Josie, they seemed to have patched up their differences. He hoped Josie could keep it together in the field.

  “So it’s just the three of us on the deep-sea team?” Roxanne asked.

  “I hope Kim can come, too,” Steven said. “But it’s up to her…depends on her parents. And we’re running out of time.”

  “I should go along,” Duane protested.

  “No,” Steven replied. “We need you here, coordinating from the Infosphere. You’re the center of this whole operation.”

  Suddenly, Steven realized: I do know this team. I know who I need in the field, and who works better behind the scenes. I know who to risk and who to keep safe.

  No matter what Malik, or Dad, or anyone else thinks: I know what I’m doing.

  “Any change in Carlos’s condition?” Roxanne asked. “Or Jasmine’s?”

  Steven shook his head.

  “Um,” Josie said, pointing at the volcano image on the screen. “What are we gonna find down there, anyway? At the bottom of the ocean?”

  All eyes turned to Duane. He gave Steven a nervous glance. “I wish I knew.”

  “Hey.”

  Steven looked up. Kim stood before them, flanked by her parents. Her mother looked anxious; her father’s expression was distant, vague. Kim hadn’t poofed in as usual, Steven realized. The three of them had crept quietly into the bustling war room.

  “Kim,” he said. “No pressure, but…we could use your help.”

  Kim turned worried eyes to her father. He opened his mouth and started to speak, t
hen seemed to seize up. Kim’s mother took his hand, and he squeezed hers back. He grimaced, furrowed his brow, and with obvious effort turned to face Steven and the others.

  “T-take care of our girl,” he said.

  “Absolutely not, Mom. No way.”

  “With respect, Steven: you do not tell us where to go. Or where not to go.”

  “When it’s a Zodiac mission, you bet I do.”

  He strode down the corridor, picking up his pace. Mrs. Lee matched his every stride without visible effort. Technicians bustled past, carrying supplies and equipment toward the hangar bay on the upper two levels. The entire base bristled with activity.

  “Besides,” he continued, “if I have to spend any more time with Dad, I won’t be responsible for what happens.”

  “Hyperbole ill suits you,” his mother snapped. “You know your father cares for you deeply.”

  “He doesn’t respect me.”

  “All this is irrelevant. I am your mother. I helped you against the Dragon before, and now you must trust me—trust us—to help you again.”

  Steven stopped short. A terrible memory rose to the surface of his mind: his parents lying dead beneath the talons of the Dragon.

  “You are not coming on the drill-ship, Mom,” he said. “My team has Zodiac powers; you don’t.”

  “As I have said repeatedly,” she replied, “we have equipment that may prove useful against the Dragon.”

  “I’m happy to take the equipment—”

  “We know how to use it better than—”

  “I DON’T WANT YOU TO GET HURT!”

  She stepped back as if he’d struck her. Trembling, she raised a hand to adjust the lapels of her suit.

  “That never occurred to me,” she whispered.

  They stood for a moment, looking away from each other. Two grunting technicians pushed past them, lugging a heavy deep-sea buoy.

  “Steven,” his mother said, “the stakes here include the survival of the human race. None of us can afford to risk that effort for the sake of one or two others. No matter how much we…”

  She reached out as if to touch his cheek. But she lowered her hand quickly.

  “We have not always been model parents.” Her voice cracked slightly. “But your father is not as cold as he pretends to be.”

  She fished in her pocket and pulled out a tiny round object. She grabbed his arm, twisted his palm upward, and dropped the object into his hand. He looked down at a small copper disk, engraved with an image of wheat stalks.

  “The 1956 penny.” He looked up at her. “You kept it?”

  “No. He did.”

  Steven blinked.

  This time she did touch his cheek. Her eyes were hard as always, but there was something else behind them, some hidden reserve of emotion.

  “Sometimes things are not exactly as we remember them,” she said.

  Then she turned and walked away.

  He stood in the hallway for a long moment, turning the penny around and around, holding it up to the light. Finally, he noticed the date: 1957.

  The lights had been turned down in the medical bay. Carlos lay as still as ever; he hadn’t moved a muscle. A second bed had been pulled up next to his, for Jasmine. They looked like a couple who’d decided to sleep in twin beds…except for the maze of tubes and IV equipment taped to their motionless bodies.

  “Carlos,” Steven said. “Where are you right now? What are you doing?”

  Carlos didn’t move. A series of evenly spaced beeps issued from a machine on the table next to him. It was the only sound in the room.

  “You might be able to help us with the Dragon’s tech,” Steven continued. “You probably helped him build it. But you’re so…so far away.”

  More beeping.

  “You told me about Lystria, though. That was pretty huge.”

  He walked around to stare at Jasmine. Her eyes were closed, her expression completely blank.

  “And you,” he said. “You’ve been a pain in my butt a lot of times. But I’m about to lead the team on our biggest mission ever. I don’t know if they’ll all follow my orders. I don’t even know if I can trust everyone.”

  He took her hand. It felt warm but hung limp.

  “And I…I just really wish you were here to help me through this.”

  Loud footsteps sounded behind him. Steven dropped Jasmine’s hand and turned to see Malik lumbering toward him. Great, he thought. Can’t I even get a minute’s peace without this big Ox getting up in my—

  “I wanted to apologize,” Malik said.

  “Oh.”

  “Someone has to be in command,” Malik continued. “Right now it’s you. I didn’t respect that, and I’m sorry.”

  Steven looked at him, wary. “Can you take orders from a kid?”

  “I don’t love it, but I can do it.” Malik looked straight at him, very serious. “I’m not sure if the whole pack of us can last a minute against the unleashed power of the Dragon. But I do know we can’t if you’re worried the whole time about a bunch of Maxwell’s ex-soldiers running rogue on you.”

  Steven nodded.

  “This is bigger than all of us,” Malik said. “I just want you to know: we’re with you.”

  He reached out a thick hand. When they shook, it felt like a solemn vow.

  Malik gestured at Jasmine and Carlos. “No change?”

  Steven shook his head.

  Somewhere deep inside him, the Tiger roared. Steven raised himself up to his full height, turned away from his unconscious friends, and faced Malik directly.

  “Come on,” Steven said. “Let’s go save the world.”

  “OH, JASMINE. You’re not getting it. You’re really not getting it.”

  Jasmine winced at the voice. She’d been walking for a very long time, across the endless sand. She wasn’t hungry; she wasn’t tired. She wasn’t even hot. There inside the mindscape, she felt alone, detached from everything.

  And yet she wasn’t really alone. The sun shone bright in the sky, but it wasn’t a sun. It was Maxwell’s face.

  “At this rate,” Maxwell continued, “you’ll be wandering in the desert forever.”

  She closed her eyes—which weren’t actually eyes, she remembered; nothing in that place was real. She pictured Carlos lying helpless on his bed, and for a moment she couldn’t tell whether that was happening now or in the past. Time seemed to be converging, past and present and future all jumbled into a stew of madness.

  She had no idea how long she’d been in the mindscape. At first, when Steven had disappeared, she’d felt the others trying to pull her out. Trying to save her. But I don’t want to be saved, she realized. I need to be in here. I can’t leave yet.

  I just don’t know why.

  An audible sigh from the Maxwell sun snapped her back to reality. Well, to unreality. Sand stretched all around, uninterrupted and unblemished, to a horizon she couldn’t even see.

  “Be smart,” Maxwell said. “Accept my guidance.”

  “I’ve had enough guidance from you to last a lifetime.” She glared up at the face in the sky. “Do you want me to work for you again? To study your teachings?”

  “I want you to study yourself.” He raised an eyebrow. “To unburden yourself.”

  “What the devil does that—”

  A strong arm clamped across her windpipe, yanking her backward. Another arm, pale and thin, appeared before her eyes. The hand bore a multifinger ring reading LIVE.

  “Lucky I’m left-handed,” Mince said.

  Jasmine let out a strangled cry. She could hardly breathe. Her face hurt, too: a series of sharp pains, across her cheeks and nose.

  I’m back in the volcano, she realized. The moment when Mince scratched me with her poison rings and threatened my life.

  Roxanne lay unconscious on the floor of the corridor. Duane stood facing Jasmine, his expression anxious and unsure. As Jasmine watched, his face slowly transformed into Maxwell’s grim visage.

  “Oh.” Maxwell looked arou
nd at the smooth white walls. “The volcano tech. I initiated that project, you know.”

  “Y-yeah?”

  “It’s a potent use of the Dragon’s power. Ultimately, I deemed it too dangerous.”

  Too dangerous? Jasmine struggled, but Mince’s grip held her tight. What’s going on here? Who—or what—is this manifestation of Maxwell, really?

  Mince’s arm tightened against her throat. “Don’t you dare pity me,” the girl hissed.

  Duane/Maxwell shook his head, disgusted. “Not good enough,” he said. “You have to go further back.”

  Further back.

  She closed her eyes, Maxwell’s words echoing in her brain. Maxwell was an enigma. He seemed to be guiding her through her own history.

  Is Maxwell a projection of Carlos’s mind, here in the mindscape? Or is it my own unconscious mind? Am I just talking to myself?

  Or is he something else?

  The pressure on her windpipe eased; the pain in her cheeks vanished. Stale air gave way to rushing wind and the sounds of battle.

  She was running. Her boots tapped out a rhythm on the artificial surface beneath her feet. A small wooden shack loomed ahead; it was the only structure around.

  The ground lurched beneath her.

  I’m on the platform, she realized. This happened two months ago, in Australia. Maxwell built this artificial disk and levitated it, then stole all our powers while we were trapped up here.

  She struggled to think. I was trying to rescue the others, who were held captive inside the shack. And Steven—

  A flare of Zodiac energy filled the sky. She whirled around to see Steven and Malosi—the other Tiger—grappling with Maxwell across the platform. It was no contest. Steven and Malosi were powerless; Maxwell glowed with energy, the Zodiac power raging all around him. The jiānyù, the sphere containing the stolen Zodiac powers, hovered in the air near Maxwell’s blazing figure, feeding him strength.

  Steven lunged toward Maxwell—and froze in midair. Malosi stopped, too, his fist raised. They didn’t move; they didn’t even breathe. They seemed suspended in time.