Balance of Power

by Stan Lee

  He turned to check on his parents. They were still trailing him, thirty meters or so behind. They couldn’t match the Tiger’s speed, but their suits were equipped with specially designed underwater jets.

  He pointed at the hole in the rock wall. His mother waved in acknowledgment, then activated her jets and shot toward him. Mr. Lee followed.

  The entrance was round and barely a meter in diameter, with jagged edges. By the time Steven reached it, his parents were right on his heels. He eased his way inside, clicking on his suit light to illuminate the winding passageway.

  A flurry of bubbles washed over his shoulder. He turned to see his mother struggling with her air hose, which had caught on a jagged wall protrusion. Air bubbles fanned out from the point where the hose touched the rock.

  Mom!

  He kicked off the wall and started swimming, but his father was already there. Mr. Lee grabbed hold of his wife’s air hose and twisted it free. Mrs. Lee swam away—but the bubbles continued to flow.

  Mrs. Lee’s eyes were wide. She’s sprung a leak, Steven thought. Her air supply won’t last another minute!

  He glanced back at the tunnel entrance. The drill-ship was too far away. His mother would never make it back there.

  Mr. Lee wrapped an arm around his wife’s shoulder. He turned and locked eyes with Steven, then pointed forward down the tunnel. Steven swallowed, nodded, and resumed swimming.

  Now he had another thing to not think about.

  The tunnel seemed to stretch on forever, winding and curving all around. Its walls ranged from jagged and unfinished rock to smooth tiles with the same Vanguard designs as in the Mount Merapi complex. Steven swam as fast as he dared, aware that his parents couldn’t negotiate the twists and turns as quickly as he could.

  He felt a kick on his back. He turned to see his father gesturing frantically. Mrs. Lee had fallen behind, flailing. Her eyes looked glazed, unfocused.

  Her air hose hung free, completely severed.

  Swimming furiously, Steven took one of his mother’s arms while his father grabbed the other. Together they guided her forward, around a bend.

  Hang on, Mom, he thought. Hang on!

  A huge steel door, swung partway open, filled the passageway. They swam through it, into a small chamber surrounded by metal on all sides. Steven handed off his mother to his father and swam back to the door. Even with the Tiger’s strength, he could barely move it against the water pressure. But he managed to push it shut and hurriedly turned a crank to seal it.

  Mr. Lee had already found the pressure controls. Water began to drain out of the chamber as air hissed in from jets mounted on the ceiling. When the water level reached their necks, Mrs. Lee wrenched off her helmet and yanked the breather out of her mouth.

  “I’m—” She coughed water. “I am all right. Thank you both.”

  As the water continued to drain away, Mr. Lee pulled off his own helmet. He took his wife in his arms and clasped her tight. She mumbled “I’m all right” again, but he still held her for a very long time.

  Mr. Lee’s face barely showed any expression, but it was still the most emotion Steven had ever seen the old man display. He felt cold, detached from the warmth of the moment.

  They’re always in sync, he thought. A perfect unit, helping and supporting each other. A unit that doesn’t include their son.

  Again he felt the web tightening. The inescapable destiny of the Zodiacs closing in on him like a shroud of death.

  “Why?” he asked.

  They turned in unison. Mrs. Lee stepped forward, started to speak, and coughed again.

  “Why what?” she asked.

  “Why are you here?”

  “We slipped away from the ship. While your teammates were busy watching your little video.”

  “I don’t want you here.” Now that the emergency was past, Steven felt himself losing control. “I didn’t want you on this mission at all. You never listen to anything I say!”

  Mr. Lee brushed past his wife, glaring at Steven. “Perhaps we should be asking you the same question.” He seemed cold again, his imperious mask completely restored. “What were you thinking, swimming off by yourself? Abandoning the mission?”

  “Abandoning? Dad, this is the mission—”

  A grinding noise interrupted him. On the far wall of the chamber, a second hatch began to cycle its way open. The water had almost vanished, reduced to a trickle flowing into drains set into the tiled floor.

  Mr. Lee shot Steven another glare, then turned and strode through the door. Mrs. Lee followed him.

  Steven stood in the pressure chamber, fuming in helpless panic. I can’t have them here, he thought. I’m going to destroy this place. I’m probably not getting out alive!

  Again, in his mind, he saw the vision from Mount Merapi: his parents lying dead in a pool of blood.

  “Son?” Mrs. Lee called. “Come in here, please.”

  He stepped through the hatch into an enormous, high-ceilinged lab. Computers, sinks, refrigerators, autoclaves, and cryogenic chambers filled the space along the walls. Ladders reached up to the ceiling, nine meters or higher, allowing access to mounted storage compartments. The air smelled sterile, unnaturally clean, with just a hint of ammonia.

  The lab was neat yet cluttered, stocked with every imaginable form of scientific equipment. It felt like a grown-up, unbelievably expensive version of a child’s playhouse. Energy hummed all around, rising and falling, like ghosts in the walls.

  Steven’s parents stood at a high table. An intricate white crystal sat atop it, gleaming in the artificial light. It was multifaceted, with arms reaching up and out like the branches of a tree.

  “One of ours,” Mrs. Lee said.

  Mr. Lee nodded. “A Sha Qi crystal.” His eyebrows rose in alarm. “It’s active.”

  Steven approached. “You guys built that thing?”

  “Developed it. Under Maxwell’s supervision.” Mrs. Lee peered at the crystal. “I have never seen one so large.”

  “Okay.” Steven concentrated, willing the Tiger to appear above him. “One Shocky Crystal, about to be ripped apart—”

  “STOP!” Mrs. Lee held out a hand, startling him. “Sha Qi energies are extremely volatile. Until we know this crystal’s function, it would be unwise to damage it.”

  “You asked why we came,” Mr. Lee said, turning to address Steven directly. “This is why. We have specialized knowledge that your team lacks.”

  “Really?” Steven couldn’t help feeling furious with them. “Or maybe you just feel guilty that he’s using your stuff to destroy the world?”

  Mr. Lee glared at him. “There are tens of thousands of volts running through this crystal,” he said. “Perhaps enough to clip even a Tiger’s claws.” He turned away, walked over to a computer display, and started poking at the keyboard.

  Mrs. Lee glanced at the crystal. She took a step toward Steven—then flinched, jumping to the side. A huge gray boulder, flat and slatelike, swung through the center of the lab, passing through the spot where she’d been standing. It seemed to have appeared from nowhere, out of the air itself.

  Steven whirled to see another large boulder slicing through the air in the other direction. The two rocks were headed toward each other, on a collision course—straight for him.

  Yet he didn’t move. The Tiger was quiet, not at all alarmed. Steven stood stock-still, ignoring his mother’s alarm, as the boulders approached. When the rocks collided, they passed right through him.

  “Ah,” Mr. Lee called from the far side of the room. “I seem to have activated some sort of holographic display.”

  Mr. and Mrs. Lee converged on their son, standing with him in the center of the room. All around them, flat boulders swooped and soared through the air. Some pairs passed harmlessly side to side; others collided and ground above or beneath each other.

  “The tectonic plates,” Steven said. “This is another simulation, like the one inside the Indonesian volcano.”

  “No.” His
father shook his head. “It’s not a simulation. It’s—”

  “It’s a monitoring program,” Mrs. Lee finished.

  Steven turned to them, his eyes wide. “You mean…all this…” He gestured at a pair of spectral boulders, colliding spectacularly in midair. “This is what’s actually happening in the tectonic plates beneath our feet? Right now?”

  His parents exchanged smiles, so quickly Steven wasn’t sure he’d really seen it. “That is our best guess,” Mrs. Lee said.

  He studied the collisions. Looking close, he could see Dragon energy shimmering in the space between the rocks. Every time one plate struck another, a small burst of energy flashed into the air.

  “Maybe—maybe we can use it somehow,” he said. “To stop the reaction—”

  “OH! SMART IDEA!”

  The rock hologram abruptly vanished—replaced by a huge grinning face, almost five meters high, in sunglasses. Steven stumbled backward, surprised.

  “Mince,” he said.

  The Lees edged their way around the giant Mince hologram. Wherever they moved, her gaze seemed to follow. She looked like a little girl about to step on some insects.

  “OH, WAIT,” she said. “I MEAN STUPID. STUPID IDEA.”

  “Steven,” his father said sternly, “who is this person?”

  “You don’t want to know,” Steven replied.

  “I’M THE SMARTEST SIXTEEN-YEAR-OLD IN THE WORLD, OLD MAN.” The Mince hologram turned to smirk down at Steven. “I GOTTA GIVE YOU CREDIT, KID. YOU REALLY THINK YOU CAN COME INTO MY LAB, TAP INTO MY COMPUTER SYSTEM, AND OVERRIDE MY PROGRAMS?”

  “I didn’t come alone.”

  “NO, YOU DIDN’T! THAT’S WHY THIS IS GONNA BE SO MUCH FUN.”

  He felt a sudden chill. The web of destiny, tightening…

  “What do you think’s going to happen to you, Mince?” he asked. “After the Dragon destroys, cleanses, whatever—after it spreads ash and fire all over the world? Where do you think you’ll wind up?”

  “I’LL BE RIGHT HERE, STUPID. IN MY LAB. I GOT ALL THE TOYS AND SPECIMENS I NEED. AND NO PEOPLE TO SCREW THINGS UP.”

  There was a loud rumble. The lab trembled and shook. Glass beakers rattled; a ladder clattered against the wall.

  “You hear that?” Steven asked. “That’s my team, setting off explosives all over this volcano. They’re gonna keep doing that until this lab of yours is just a pile of scrap.”

  “HUH. THEY MIGHT.” Mince seemed to consider for a moment. “OR THEN AGAIN…”

  She wavered and disappeared. In her place, filling most of the two-story room, an exterior image appeared. The mountain shone brighter than before, lit by some unseen fire within. The drill-ship churned through the water, moving closer to the mouth of the volcano.

  Uh-oh, Steven thought.

  As the drill-ship approached, the volcano’s mouth seemed to light up. Something poked into the water: a thin, jagged shape, crackling with energy.

  “That,” Mr. Lee said, “is not an eruption.”

  “No,” Steven whispered. “It’s a horn.”

  Mrs. Lee frowned. “A wind instrument?”

  “No. An animal’s horn.”

  The horn continued to rise, like a lightning bolt moving in slow motion. It sparked with power, illuminating the deep water. A second horn crackled into view next to it, followed by the tip of a head made of the same eldritch energy.

  The horns jutted into the water, revealing themselves as twisted, curving antlers knotted with deadly sharp hooks. Below them, a pair of glowing malevolent eyes rose above the lip of the volcano.

  “The Dragon,” Steven said.

  “Yes,” his father replied. “But not precisely the Dragon you’ve known.”

  The creature paused, the bulk of its head still concealed within the mountain. Its horns and forehead appeared to be composed entirely of energy, sparking and wavering in the water. As soon as Steven focused on one part of it, that part seemed to shift and change.

  Only its eyes were solid. They seemed to stare straight at him for a moment. Then the Dragon turned to glance up at the drill-ship, hovering dangerously close.

  “No,” Steven whispered. “Oh, no.”

  He didn’t even see its mouth open. But a stream of fire surged upward, cleaving the water. The flame struck the drill-ship, knocking it on its side.

  “HARD CUT!” said Mince. She sounded delighted.

  The image wavered again and shifted to an interior view of the drill-ship’s cockpit. The little ship lurched; Roxanne and Kim flew through the air, striking a wall hard. Josie rocked back and forth in the pilot’s seat, struggling with the controls.

  Kim stumbled to her feet and shook her head to clear it. She grabbed Roxanne’s arm and pointed down at the floor.

  Water was gushing in. A steady stream, as if a garden hose had been switched on. As Roxanne knelt down to examine the hull, Steven saw a thick vertical crack stretching up from the floor.

  The ship tumbled again, more violently than before. Roxanne rolled over and struck her head—

  —and the image vanished.

  Steven stood, shaking, his eyes wide. Roxanne, Kim, and Josie, he thought. Rooster, Rabbit, Horse. None of their powers are suited to that kind of attack. None of them can survive—

  “AW! YOU WANT TO GO HELP ’EM?”

  Footsteps, coming from the pressure chamber. Steven turned to see Mince herself striding into the room. She was a fraction the size of her holo-image but every bit as imperious and cruel.

  Mince gestured toward the open hatch. “Go ahead.”

  Steven considered for a moment. My mission is to blow this place up, he thought. But my team—they might be drowning right now. I can’t abandon them!

  “Mom,” he said, starting toward the hatch. “Dad. Come on.”

  “No, Son.”

  He whirled, thinking: Are they really arguing with me now?

  But his heart sank as he saw his mother, holding up the mangled end of her severed air hose.

  “Whoa!” Mince strode through the chamber, keeping her distance from Steven. “This is a tough one. You can stay here and protect Mummy and Daddy like a good little Tiger cub…”

  She gestured. The exterior view appeared again, focused this time on the drill-ship. A second fireball struck it, engulfing the tiny craft in flames.

  “…or you can swim to your pals’ rescue.”

  Mince stopped to lean against the table with the Sha Qi crystal on it. She turned and stared at the Lees with a predatory smile.

  “Of course,” she continued, “you’ll have to leave them with me.”

  She held up her hand. Mince wore only one set of rings now: the ones that read DIE.

  Steven glared at her. Mince stood equidistant from him and the Lees—no, not quite equidistant. She was a little closer to his parents than he was to her. He might be able to cover the distance, to leap over and reach her before she could harm them. But maybe not.

  With a shock, he realized: This is it. The choice. The doom the Tigers predicted.

  His team faced mortal danger outside. But his mother couldn’t leave the mountain, and Mr. Lee would never go without his wife.

  The Tiger roared, a scream of frustration. In response, its ancestors echoed the words they’d spoken before: Your friends, your teammates, your duty—or your family, the people who gave you life.

  “No,” he said aloud. “I can’t make that choice. It’s impossible.”

  We all made it. Every one of us. And the result was always the same.

  Mince laughed. The Lees stood together, watching their son. In the hologram, the drill-ship tumbled over and over, slowly filling with water.

  There’d been water in Steven’s vision—the one he’d seen back in the Mount Merapi installation. His team had stood in a circle: Roxanne, Duane, Liam, and Kim. Their eyes had risen and fallen, watching as water dripped from some unknown brightly lit source. Drip. Drip. Drip.

  He remembered what came next. His team, dead and bloody o
n the ground. Mr. and Mrs. Lee, too—sprawled hand in hand, together in death as they had been in life.

  Oblivion.

  And the Dragon filling the sky, filling the world, spreading its breath of fire over land and sea, friend and foe. Over anyone and anything who dared challenge it—including a foolish young Tiger whose cycle, at last, had come to an end.

  LIAM DRIFTED through time and space, lost in one of his earliest memories: a visit to a very old church. A gray stone building with arched windows, locked in the past beneath the blue skies of Ireland.

  Little Liam stood in the roomy sanctuary, staring at an old chipped tub. He asked his mum why there was a tub inside the church and why there were no water pipes connected to it.

  His mother laughed. She had gray hair, beige clothes, and a nice laugh. “It’s not a tub,” she said, mussing Liam’s hair affectionately. “It’s called a font.”

  An ancient carving wrapped around the outside of the font. In the image, a man faced off against a fearsome serpent: a creature from fairy stories, with the body of a snake, huge jaws, and swept-back ears. Liam knew that the man was brave. A horrific beast had invaded his home, and the man had no choice but to defend himself and his family. He was a fighter.

  That’s what little Liam wanted to be. A fighter.

  But as he relived the moment, he found himself staring at the beast. Its jaws were wide and strong, its eyes fierce with power. To his younger self, it had been an abstract, frightening monster. But now he knew: It’s the Dragon.

  And the Dragon was linked to the land. Its energy reached deep below the grass, past the roots of the oldest trees, to the living core of the earth.

  The Dragon is our past.

  The words echoed in his mind, accompanied by lilting strains of Celtic music. They struck a chord in his subconscious mind, spoke directly to his Irish heritage. The power called to him, welcoming him into its embrace.

  The Dragon is our future.

  “Ram?”

  He turned to look at his mother. She was staring at him, an intense expression on her face.

  “Mum?” he asked. His voice sounded squeaky. “What did you call me?”

  “Ram. Liam.” Her voice was low, urgent. “Snap out of it.”