Balance of Power

by Stan Lee

  The energy around Maxwell calmed. He glanced at the jiānyù, glowing and pulsing in the air beside him. Then he turned to Jasmine with a condescending smile.

  “Well?” he asked. “Do you know what comes next?”

  “I break into the shack,” she said, gesturing, “and free the others. Duane, Roxanne, Liam, and Malik.”

  “No. Not yet.”

  Maxwell closed his eyes. The energy flared back to life around him; his eyes grew blank, his expression inhuman. The jiānyù rose higher, flaring with power.

  Steven and Malosi snapped back to life. Maxwell repelled Steven’s attack with a casual, savage blast of Dragon energy. Without even looking around, Maxwell grabbed Malosi by the throat and threw him to the ground.

  “This is the moment,” Maxwell snapped, turning to face Jasmine. “As they fell, I turned and called out to you. Do you remember?”

  She stared at him. He hovered, glowing bright, above the fallen Tigers. His features, his arms and legs, were almost lost in that white glow. And there was something in his eyes. Something she hadn’t seen before.

  Fear.

  “You called out,” she repeated. “But not aloud.”

  “No. Through the Dragon link.” His voice was urgent, even desperate. “Do you remember what I said?”

  His radiance was blinding now. She raised a hand to shield her eyes.

  “Yes,” she replied. “You said…you said…”

  He flashed white-hot, like a sun. Jasmine screamed, flinched, and dropped to her knees. She turned away—but Maxwell was still there. His face filled her mind, her thoughts, her senses. She could feel his darkness, his arrogance, the overwhelming force of his presence.

  “You said, ‘You were right,’” she finished.

  The world seemed to explode. For a terrible moment, Jasmine remembered her time as the Dragon—the supreme, almost overwhelming power. The Dragon was greater than her, greater than Maxwell, greater than any of them. She could feel it in her hands, in her heart: the power of life and death, the ability to alter a person’s mind or snuff out his breath with barely a thought.

  She found herself lying in the sand, back in the desert. She spat, coughed, and struggled to sit up. A thick hand reached down, offering assistance.

  Maxwell stood over her. He wasn’t a sun or a god anymore, just a man in a soldier’s uniform. Reluctantly, she took his hand and rose to her feet.

  And then she knew.

  “You’re not in Carlos’s mind,” she said. “You’re in mine.”

  Maxwell nodded. “Very good.”

  “That moment, up on the platform.” She struggled to put the pieces together. “I saw what was happening to you. The Dragon…”

  “I made the mistake of allowing it to draw on the other Zodiac signs,” Maxwell said. “The result was staggering, overwhelming. I realized for the first time that I was in danger of losing myself…of being subsumed by the Dragon’s godlike consciousness.”

  “And that’s exactly what happened.”

  “Not quite.” Maxwell smiled his arrogant smile. “You and I, Jasmine…we have shared a link, played our tug-of-war over the power that is our birthright. With or without that power, we are still Dragons. In my moment of crisis, I reached out to you.”

  “You…you transferred your consciousness into my brain.” She reeled, coming to grips with the idea. “You’ve been living there ever since?”

  “Under the surface. Deep within your subconscious mind.” Maxwell shrugged. “It seemed a good place to hide.”

  “They all said I was acting strangely.” She looked at him, horror and discovery warring in her mind. “In the volcano…I knew which corridors to take. That was you?”

  “I built that installation—the least I could do was give you a little help. I did the same for Steven, when I showed him the image of Lystria.”

  “Help?” She shook her head. “Against what? The Dragon?”

  “The Dragon is my problem to solve. Only I can control its power.”

  “You just said you couldn’t control it!”

  “You of all people should know, Jasmine: I learn from my mistakes.”

  “I know one thing. I’ve heard that before.”

  She strode away, across the burning sand. It all made sense. For weeks she’d felt burdened, as if she were carrying some terrible weight on her back. Now she knew: It’s my greatest enemy.

  She turned to see Maxwell holding out a hand to her.

  “Jasmine,” he said, “the Dragon’s plans are not mine. It seeks the destruction of human civilization, the termination of all life not under its direct command.”

  She frowned.

  “However,” Maxwell continued, “once again, you were right. I cannot stop it alone.”

  “You want to help us?”

  “Your teams are already en route to the Dragon’s twin centers of power. I tell you this, as certainly as I know the Dragon: unaided, they will fall.”

  She straightened up and brushed sand off her leggings. Imaginary sand, she reminded herself.

  “I don’t have the power anymore,” she said. “Neither do you.”

  “But I can help.”

  They stood together, staring at each other. Two minds, she thought, facing off inside a single brain. When this is over, I’m gonna have the biggest headache in human history.

  If there’s a human history left.

  “All right,” she said. “Let’s go.”

  “Not yet.”

  She darted a look at him. Another plot, she thought. Another angle. With Maxwell, nothing is easy.

  He waved his hand. The desert remained this time, but the air between them wavered and shifted, resolving into the form of Carlos’s hospital bed. He lay unmoving, eyes closed, IVs and breathing tubes reaching from his arm and nostrils to a small machine on a nearby table. He looked frail, thin, barely alive.

  Jasmine turned away.

  “Ah,” Maxwell said. “I didn’t mean to upset you. Although what you’re feeling now is nothing, compared to what’s coming.”

  She stared at the sand.

  “Carlos knows more about the Zodiac powers than anyone alive,” Maxwell continued. “If we’re to defeat the Dragon—lock it back up in its box, once and for all—we must have his help.”

  “You mean we have to undo the damage you did to his mind.”

  “I admit it. Freely.” Maxwell frowned. “When I held the power, there were times I used it unwisely.”

  “But now you can control it.”

  “Someone must.” His eyes narrowed. “I am prepared to make the sacrifice.”

  She snorted.

  “Whatever you think of me, you know I’m right.” He gestured at Carlos’s unmoving form. “And I know you would do anything for him.”

  Jasmine walked up to Carlos. She reached out a hand and touched his cheek. It was cold.

  “What do I do?” she asked.

  Maxwell took her by the arm and twisted her away from Carlos’s bed. She turned, startled, and looked into Maxwell’s hard eyes.

  “You are not unburdened,” he said. “Not yet.”

  She swallowed. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Then this is not finished.”

  She tried to turn her head, to look away from his piercing eyes. But she couldn’t. He knows me, she thought. He knows what’s inside my mind, because he’s been living there for weeks. He sees the things I’ve forgotten, the terrors I’ve tried to forget.

  Horrified, she realized: He knows my secrets.

  Once again, the world exploded into light.

  THE DRILL-SHIP NOSED its way down: fifteen, sixteen, seventeen hundred meters below the surface. At first, gentle light suffused the green water, illuminating schools of fish and the occasional huge lumbering whale. Then, gradually, darkness engulfed the small craft. By the time it approached the bottom—nearly two thousand meters down—the only light came from a pair of searchlights mounted on the ship’s side, sweeping across the rocky seab
ed.

  Without those lights, Roxanne thought, we’d be blind.

  Kim leaned over Roxanne’s shoulder, eyes wide. They sat wedged in a corner of the cramped cockpit, their pressure suits crowding them even more than usual. They stared at a holographic schematic of the Shatsky Rise, the complex of underwater volcanoes spread out below the ship. The low rocky mountains stretched for hundreds of kilometers, paralleling the islands of Japan to the west.

  “Is that all Tamu Massif?” Roxanne asked.

  “No, just this part.” Kim pointed to a large mound at the southern end of the rise. “But all by itself, it’s as big as Arizona.” She smiled at Roxanne.

  Roxanne had been worried about this trip. She wasn’t sure if she liked having her powers back; they’d caused her a lot of trouble, made her personal life extremely difficult. But she had to admit it felt good being on a mission again with her old friends—and one new one: Josie, who sat in the pilot’s seat, driving the ship.

  Steven brushed past in his bulky suit, elbowing Roxanne from the back. “Dude,” she said, “excuse me maybe?”

  He stopped in his tracks. “Sorry,” he said. He seemed confused, distracted.

  “Lot more crowded in here than we’re used to,” Kim said. “Especially in this gear.” She lifted her arm, indicating the heavy sleeve covering it.

  “Pressure’s almost two hundred atmospheres,” Josie said. “If this hull springs a leak, you’ll be glad for those suits.”

  Roxanne stood up, stretching her cramped legs, and walked a meter or so to the pilot’s chair. “I thought Vanguard built their ships to last,” she said.

  Josie snorted. “You willing to bet your life on that?”

  As if in answer, a tremor ran through the ship. The hull creaked. The water all around churned, bubbles rising in the black water outside the viewport.

  “Non,” Roxanne whispered.

  She turned at the sound of raised voices. Steven stood in the far corner, arguing with his parents. Roxanne wasn’t sure why the Lees were there, but they’d insisted on going along. The cockpit was barely large enough for its six passengers. It didn’t even have a real door, just a hatch mounted a meter up on the back wall.

  “Approaching Tamu Massif.” Josie frowned, working the controls. “Let me see if I can get us a visual….”

  A hologram rose from the small pilot’s station. The ship’s searchlights played back and forth along the seabed, illuminating the huge volcano. Tamu Massif stretched along the bed, rising gradually to a height of a thousand meters, then dropping off sharply. From the summit, a thin column of dark smoke rose into the swirling water.

  Roxanne pointed at the smoke. “Didn’t Duane say this volcano was inactive?”

  “It was yesterday.” Josie hissed in a breath. “I don’t like this.”

  “It’s just a little smoke.”

  “Not that. Well, partly that.” Josie grimaced as the ship shook again. “We’re approaching a suddenly active volcano, in an area plagued by tremors, in a small ship loaded with explosives. Does any of that sound like a good idea?”

  “Duane said the water would help shield us from any eruptions. And, uh, explosions.”

  “I guess that depends how close we get. Anyway, Duane’s not here, is he?”

  Roxanne shook her head. At that depth, they were cut off from all communications. They’d left a remote buoy on the surface to gather readings: seismic tomography, surface deformations, Zodiac energy levels, magnetic anomalies. These would be transmitted back to headquarters, where Duane could analyze them and decide how to proceed. With luck, it would give the team a more complete picture of the Dragon’s plans.

  But down there in the drill-ship, they were on their own.

  “You’re just itchy for a fight,” Roxanne said, giving Josie a playful jab on the arm. “Aren’t you?”

  A dangerous look crept into Josie’s eyes. “I could punch something.”

  Then they both laughed. “Careful what you wish for,” Roxanne said.

  “We’re two hundred meters above the summit.” Josie checked a readout. “Steven? We’re close enough to launch the charges now.”

  No answer. Roxanne turned to see Steven engaged in a tense conversation with his parents.

  “Steven?”

  He turned and blinked. “Right. Yes, definitely, fire the charges.”

  Josie shrugged. “Bombs away.”

  The drill-ship’s searchlights narrowed, zeroing in on the lower slope of the volcano. The rocket launchers mounted on the outer hull swiveled downward, then fired. A thin missile sliced through the water, toward the area where the twin beams swooped and wavered. A school of tiny fish veered to avoid the intruder in their dark realm.

  The missile struck the surface, its nose burrowing into the sodden rock. As it came to a stop, three arms swung out from hinges, forming a tripod holding the central shaft in place.

  Inside the ship, Josie nodded at the holographic display. “Charge one implanted,” she said. “Moving into new position along the summit now. Preparing to fire charge two.”

  Roxanne gave her an encouraging pat on the shoulder, then turned toward the back of the cockpit. Kim stood with Steven and his parents, staring at a shining object in his hand. It was about the size of a lipstick tube but studded with high-tech circuitry.

  “What is that?” Roxanne asked.

  Mr. Lee frowned at her. “It may be difficult for you to comprehend.”

  Roxanne rolled her eyes. “Condescending much?”

  “It is a qi disruptor,” Mrs. Lee said. “A product of our company’s research.”

  “Qi disruptor?” Steven held the object up to the artificial light, turning it around. “In Australia, you gave me a qi amplifier….”

  “This is basically the opposite principle.” Mrs. Lee shrugged. “Should you encounter the Dragon, it may disrupt the entity’s power for a moment.”

  “Disrupt the Dragon? Have you met the Dragon?” Kim looked incredulous. “The most powerful creature on Earth?”

  “It may disrupt the entity,” Mrs. Lee repeated, “for a moment. Possibly.”

  “We developed much of our company’s technology under Maxwell’s patronage,” Mr. Lee said. “However, we managed to conceal several of our most significant achievements from him.”

  Steven stared at the disruptor, then shook his head. Almost absentmindedly, he stuffed it in his pocket.

  Roxanne touched his arm. “Boss? You okay?”

  “Rox!” Josie called. “You’re up.”

  Roxanne cast a worried glance at Steven. He waved her toward the side of the cockpit. She walked over and touched a newly installed panel mounted on the wall. Kim followed.

  The panel slid aside to reveal Duane’s latest gadget. It didn’t look like much: just an oxygen mask reinforced with leather straps, hooked up to a thick cable leading into the wall. Roxanne took the mask in her hands and hesitated.

  Kim looked up at her. “You got this,” she said.

  Roxanne nodded. She fitted the mask onto her face and snapped the fasteners tight. The mask formed a complete seal around her mouth.

  “Veering back into position over the first charge,” Josie said. “You ready?”

  Roxanne nodded. “But I fveel vidicuvous.”

  “What?”

  She waved her hand, dismissing the question.

  “Everyone grab your helmets,” Josie said. “Just in case.”

  Roxanne closed her eyes and concentrated. She willed herself to block out the noise of the engines, the creaking of the hull, the chatter of her teammates. She focused on one thing: the Rooster energy. It billowed and grew, building all around her, shrieking with power.

  Josie’s voice seemed very distant. “Fire.”

  Roxanne screamed. The Rooster crowed. The oxygen mask shook and bulged, but the straps held it tight to Roxanne’s face. Zodiac energy flared bright, contained and channeled into the cable leading into the wall.

  Before the mission, Steven had told her
: You’re the only one who can do this. With Jasmine out of action, we’re low on long-range powers.

  We need the Rooster!

  She screamed harder. Power blasted into the depths of the ship, amplified by a dish-shaped emitter mounted on the hull. When the energy reached a critical level, the emitter flashed and fired the sonic beam, forcing it through the water toward the volcano below.

  The sonic energy struck the first charge, affixed to the silty volcano by its tripod legs. The missile trembled, caught fire, and exploded.

  The ship lurched violently. Roxanne stumbled into the wall, banging her head. “Ouchf,” she said, the mask still muffling her words.

  Mr. and Mrs. Lee approached the pilot’s seat. In the holographic display, dirt billowed up, spinning and spiraling into the water. It looked like a special effect, a slow-motion capture of an explosion.

  “Direct hit,” Josie said, struggling with the controls. “Oh. Oh, come on, baby. Hold steady for me now.”

  Roxanne wrenched off the mask and sucked in a breath. “Why,” she gasped, “why are we doing this again?”

  “Duane said something about measuring the seismic waves,” Kim said, moving up to join the Lees.

  “Yes,” Mrs. Lee explained. “We are hoping to determine the severity of the Dragon’s coming apocalypse.”

  “By setting off more explosions of our own?” Roxanne shook her head. “Who came up with this plan? Some American politician?”

  “It is a common technique employed by seismologists,” Mr. Lee snapped. “Even now, the ship’s sensors are accumulating data for later analysis.”

  The ship lurched again, tipping forty-five degrees to the side. Josie swore and pulled up on the control stick.

  “If there is a later,” Kim whispered.

  “Of course,” Josie said, “if the explosives damage any of the Dragon’s tech, that’ll be a nice bonus.”

  “We haven’t even seen the Dragon yet,” Roxanne protested. “How do we know—”

  “Debate later. We’re above the second charge.”

  Roxanne grimaced, cleared her throat, and donned the mask.

  Once again, the Zodiac energy flowed through her, blasting out from the ship at a point near the volcano’s summit. This time she felt more confident, more finely attuned to the machinery within the ship. She knew exactly how much power to draw on and how to maintain a steady flow for exactly the right length of time.