Burden of Solace: Book 1 of the Starforce Saga

by Richard L. Wright

  He coughed a little. Blood came up, flecks of it spattering her face.

  “I did what I could. I reckon tha’s a good enough measure of a man.”

  He smiled a little, then his face went slack. She eased her finger from the hole in his chest. There were no more surges of crimson. She looked down at him and her eyes filled. For a second she didn’t see the face of a stranger; she saw GranDa. She closed his eyes with her bloody hand, a hand that trembled with rising anger. She retrieved the gentleman’s fallen hat and placed it over his face.

  “You did what you could,” she said. “No regrets.”

  The roar of rocket engines, close overhead, brought her back to the moment. Nate had lost his distance advantage and was maneuvering in random directions to stay out of Ballantine’s reach. He was succeeding, but barely. The blasts simply weren’t doing the kind of damage they had expected. Maybe her energy powers weren’t as potent as they had believed.

  Ballantine was charging, flying at his opponent with one fist drawn back to deliver a blow. Nate fired a blast, the fingers of both hands flexing to deliver a double dose before kicking the rockets to be elsewhere when the punch arrived. It was the same dance they had been performing since taking to the air, but this time Ballantine was ready. He had guessed correctly which direction Nate would go.

  An invulnerable fist struck Nate square in the stomach. The slender body folded double, almost engulfing the freight-train force before inertia threw him across the park, toward the Aquarium. The mock hero floated in place, watching his adversary plunge to the ground. The distance kept her from hearing, but he appeared to be laughing.

  Cassie was on her feet and running again. This entire plan had hinged on her destructive side being an effective counter to Nate’s invulnerability. Now it was all falling apart, and Nate might be dying, and her body along with him.

  She found him at the end of a shallow trench dug out by his impact, ending against a tree. He was doubled over, clutching his belly. As she skidded to stop beside him, she could see faint washes of green energy flickering around him. The gold faceplate on his black helmet was smashed and she could see pain in his eyes. He winced as she pulled the broken headgear off.

  “Well, the good news is that the force field belt works. Mostly. At least I’m still in one piece.”

  “But you’re not healing right. Something’s wrong. My body should be able to shake that punch off. Concentrate on the internal organs, especially your spleen. Look for ruptured vessels, broken bones, anything out of the ordinary.”

  “Cass, I’m not you. I wouldn’t know a busted spleen from an upside-down pancreas. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m used to hitting things and getting hit.”

  Nate’s voice, filled with the sneering mockery that was pure Martin Ballantine, came from above them.

  “Are you getting back up, or should I finish both of you where you are? By the way, Guardian - you hit like a girl.”

  The realization struck Cassie like a shopping cart full of canned goods.

  Nate’s not me.

  That was it. Nate had explained it before. Their abilities came from who they were, deep down. The nature of their powers sprang from their personalities, their values, their passions. Even if the powers resided in their physical forms, it was their minds and spirits that drove them.

  “And he’s not you,” she muttered absently.

  Her hands bracketed Nate’s head, her head, and she smiled. “You’re a genius.”

  She leaned in close, whispering to him. “Don’t worry. I can do this.” Then she kissed him, kissed herself, however you might describe it.

  She called up the luminous imagery she had seen when Martin drove Nate out of his body. She visualized her own essence, green and pulsating, and she willed that essence to flow into him, simultaneously pulling his beautiful brightness into the body she now occupied. The world shifted. She felt hands on her face, lips pressing hers.

  Then the pain came through. She could sense the cracked ribs and perforated liver even as a wave of healing energy surged, restoring everything. Vitality and strength filled her. She broke the kiss and look into the bewildered face of Martin Ballantine as understanding crept across it.

  “When it starts,” she said, “you get clear, okay?” It surprised her how good it felt to hear her words in her own voice.

  Nate nodded with Ballantine’s face, then smiled grimly. “Kick his ass.”

  She rose to her feet, then slightly up off the ground. In Ballantine’s body, Nate moved around behind her, ready to vacate the area. Energy coalesced in her hands, building.

  “Ballantine, you’re about to find out what ‘hits like a girl’ really means.”

  She brought her hands together in front of her, fingers curled as if holding a ball. The boiling white plasma erupted like a solar flare. Ballantine was caught in the center of his chest, spinning him back and up into the sky. She pointed her toes and rockets fired, driving her after him like a blood-tipped ebony arrow.

  Now it was his turn to run.

  CHAPTER 31

  Cassie’s fury was a freight train, and Ballantine was tied to the tracks. Hundreds of feet above the city, she hammered him, blow after blow of pure distilled rage.

  “I trusted you,” she snarled.

  “There’s that fire, the passion I saw,” he leered. “Your boyfriend didn’t bring the same spark to those eyes. I’m going to enjoy breaking you.”

  She hit him with a backhanded wave of power that sent him tumbling through the air. She rocketed after him, roaring her pain and rage.

  “All that shit about caring for me. It was nothing but lies!”

  “It was all part of the game,” he shrugged. “I tell you what you want to hear, and you give me what I want.”

  “What? Become your sex slave? Is that all I was to you? A talking blow-up doll?” She flicked a bolt at his groin but held back as she remembered the body she was punishing didn’t belong to Ballantine.

  “Well, not the talking part,” he said. “That really gets annoying. ‘Blah, blah, parents. Blah, blah, career.’ No, thanks. Besides, you lied to me too, so don’t play that righteous card.”

  “I only lied to keep myself safe,” she countered. “You lied to trap me, to manipulate me. Don’t you dare compare yourself to me.”

  He lunged for her, swinging wide as she dealt another burst to his head. He shook it off, momentarily disoriented. She circled around behind him, gauging her next attack. She’d hoped this conversation might anger him, throw him off balance enough to make mistakes. She hadn’t counted on this smug, egotistical armor he wore. Maybe it was the rich-boy prep school training she’d seen from the start. Or maybe he just didn’t give a fuck about anything but himself.

  “Cassie, you broke hospital rules because they didn’t apply to you. I’m no different. We were born to rule these Normals, not serve them. You should be joining me, not fighting to keep a system that despises you. We’re more alike than you think.”

  White fire engulfed him as she screamed.

  “I am nothing like you!”

  This time she didn’t hold back. Agony tore at him as the power poured from her in a continuous fiery geyser. Long seconds passed before she relented, her anger diminished but not spent. He hung limp in the sky for a heartbeat and then began to fall. She watched his receding form.

  “Crap.”

  She stopped hovering and fell after him, jackknifing like a high-diver. A burst from her thrusters closed the gap and she grabbed an arm. Another flip and she triggered more power from the boots to slow their descent. Her arms strained as she braked their combined weight, slowing their fall. When they came to a stop again, she looked around to get her bearings. She hadn’t paid much attention to where they were during the fight. She spotted the Georgia Dome and sprawling World Congress center and knew they had gone several miles west of the park. She kicked the thrusters to head back east. As they crossed the edge of the park, she felt a steely hand close on her rig
ht calf.

  “Let’s see how you do up close, bitch.”

  Bone splintered. She screamed and kicked at him with her other leg, rocket thrust washing over him. He reached up with his other hand and pulled, his grip pulverizing the muscles of her thigh. Healing power surged through her, but the pain almost made her black out. One hand dug into her hip, rupturing organs that regenerated even as he continued his climb. He caught her throat and then he was level with her. A fist drew back, aiming for her face. She didn’t know if she could survive a decapitation, if her power could fix something so severe. She grabbed his helmet with both hands and channeled her blasts into him with no thought of holding back.

  The twilight sky lit up. His screams ripped the clouds. She couldn’t scream because he had crushed her larynx. She couldn’t divert attention away from the torrent of energy she was passing through Ballantine’s skull to direct her healing. If she survived it would be purely her body’s doing.

  Her vision swam, light fading, and still she pumped white fire into him. She felt the helmet soften and begin to deform. She couldn’t even tell if he was still grappling with her. Her entire being was focused on the flood of white fire she had unleashed. It was like her hands were windows into the heart of a star, and she was funneling Hell itself into his head. The windows opened wider, moving up her arms until all of her body was a gateway for the power. Then all she knew was blackness.

  She wasn’t aware of the energy blasts stopping. She didn’t feel it when she hit the ground. She couldn’t hear or see anything. After what seemed like an eternity, she felt something around her, a sort of warmth. It surrounded her like a blanket, flooding her with a sense of safety and peace. She wondered if this was death and some heavenly gates awaited her. Or was this her rebirth, her spirit finding a new home, cradled in a mother’s womb.

  She heard a sound, low and mournful. There was a sensation of rocking. Someone was crying. Light seeped into her awareness, low and soft. It was green and it pulsed with every beat of her heart.

  Her heart. She latched onto that sensation and clung to it. With each pulse, she pulled herself closer to the world, closer to consciousness.

  Ba-bump.

  She heard the murmur of voices.

  Ba-bump.

  There was wetness on her face.

  Ba-bump.

  Arms held her, a hand cupped her face.

  Ba-bump.

  A voice whispered to her. You can do this. Come back to me.

  She opened her eyes and panic seized her. Ballantine’s face loomed near. Then she remembered that although it was Ballantine’s face, there was another soul behind those tear-filled eyes. She felt the connection and her heart quickened.

  “Did I...” Her voice was a croak. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Is he...”

  Nate nearly squeezed the newly reclaimed life from her in his happiness. She felt rather than saw him shake his head.

  “Dead? I don’t know. I don’t think so, but I really can’t tell. He’s pretty messed up. His pancreas might be upside down.”

  Ah, the old upside-down pancreas joke. The traditional greeting for those returning from near-death experiences.

  “You were worse, though. I thought you were gone.”

  She tried to sit up, using his arms for leverage. Her head was clearing. She summoned another wave of the healing green and looked around.

  People were circled around her, some filming with their cell phones. Others were gathered around a prone figure a few dozen feet away, a burnt form wrapped in tatters of steel gray. She struggled to stand, and the crowd backed away. She sensed fear and anger. The anger rose when she started moving toward Nate’s fallen body. Murmurs and whispers came from all around.

  “She killed him. She killed our Guardian.”

  The real Nate, still trapped in Ballantine’s guise, helped to support her as they made their way through the parting crowd. She pushed her awareness out, focusing on the scorched body. In her raw state, the crowd’s emotions clawed at her, making it difficult to block them out. She felt her own anger building and fought to control it. It wasn’t until Nate’s body was in sight that she was able to sense him and feel the fading glow in him.

  “You get away from him, you hear?” A hefty young woman blocked their path. Everyone else was keeping their distance from the woman in black, but this one stood defiant. “That man is a hero, and he done helped a lot of folks in this town.”

  A muted chorus of agreement came from the others, but this one was the spark to light the tinder. Cassie whispered to Nate.

  “Can you quiet her down? I need to get to Ballantine and if she keeps stirring them up then this could turn nasty.”

  Nate nodded and raised himself up straight, pulling the cap from his head.

  “This is not what it looks like. The man in the helmet is not really Guardian 175. He’s an imposter. This woman is a doctor and she needs to--“

  Boos and angry shouts drowned him out. Cassie shook her head.

  “I meant use Ballantine’s power to turn her around, program her to be on our side.”

  The shock was evident in Nate’s eyes, but he quickly overcame it and went about trying to access Ballantine’s abilities. Cassie hoped he didn’t accidentally swap bodies with the girl. Things were complicated enough already.

  She could feel Nate’s concentration and was relieved when she picked up a flash of brightness, a sense of accomplishment from him. The girl’s demeanor softened, and she turned to the crowd.

  “Y’all heard the man,” she shouted. “This skinny-ass girl’s a doctor. Now y’all git out the way ‘fore I have to hurt somebody.”

  Cassie patted Nate’s arm and smiled.

  “You might have missed your calling. Those are some mighty fine super-villain moves you’ve got.”

  Nate shot her a look then urged her forward.

  The ‘Guardian’ was a mess. Despite Nate’s engineering efforts, his uniform was heavily damaged with multiple holes burned through them. The helmet was all but melted onto his head. Cassie wasted no time in dropping down to her knees, ready to begin rebuilding him. Her hands hovered above his chest as a realization pulled her up short.

  “Nate, you need to swap with him, now. He won’t last much longer and if I revive him, well, we may not get another chance.”

  Nate pursed his lips then placed his hands on the scorched body. As he closed his eyes, she debated warning him. Once he was fully in his own body again, he would be in terrible pain, seconds from death. Then again, knowing what awaited him might subconsciously hold him back from jumping into that hell. She bit her lip and decided not to throw any roadblocks in his path back to normalcy, whatever that even was anymore. Instead she readied herself, gathering every bit of healing energy to put Humpty Dumpty back together again.

  “Okay. Just click my heels together and say, ‘no place like home.’”

  She resisted her inappropriate urge to laugh. “Whatever works. Remember to visualize your bright energy flowing in while his dark energy flows out. Push-pull.”

  “Right. In with the good air, out with the bad. Here goes.”

  He closed his eyes. Cassie reached out with her inner senses to monitor the exchange, careful not to let herself get pulled into the flow this time. She’d had enough of living in a man’s body to last her for quite a while. Although, if there were a way to swap with Nate, that could be... interesting. She’d had absolutely no interest in exploring Ballantine’s form, quite the opposite in fact. But some time in a soapy bathtub with Nate’s anatomy, well, that might actually be fun.

  She pulled her mind out of the gutter as her sight showed her a shifting of life forces, dark and light. Ballantine’s body fell over, his unconscious mind now returned to its rightful place. Nate’s body, however, arched up as his awareness was bombarded by the savage pain, she herself had inflicted on him.

  She fed a river of healing green into him, pushing it like a drug through an IV line. She scanned for internal inj
uries, pushing and pulling the bones and organs, vessels and nerves, restoring all back to their proper condition. She pulled his shoulders into her lap, wrapping her arms around him and pouring more and more of her energy into him.

  “Come on, Nate.”

  She could detect no heartbeat, no respiration. She pushed more and more vitality into him, moving the chambers of his heart with her power, willing his lungs to inflate. GranDa’s voice echoed in her head. You canna stop a body from dyin’, sweet girl. All you can do is delay it. Her tears splashed down onto the bubbled and melted silver faceplate. Their two bodies were surrounded by a swirl of green, coruscating and pulsating - beating like a heart, one heart in two bodies. In the center of the maelstrom Cassie whispered.

  “Don’t leave. Please, not you too.”

  A voice cut through her concentration, from outside the cocoon of healing she had built. A voice filled with spite.

  “How sweet. And pathetic.”

  Cassie looked up and the cocoon slowly collapsed. Ballantine stood smiling a mad, feral grin. Behind him, a crowd of people gathered. Their eyes were blank, and they all had that same demented smile.

  CHAPTER 32

  “Ballantine, I am seriously not in the mood for your wacko evil shit right now.”

  Ballantine wagged his head from side to side, his mad smile a counterpoint to the hatred in his eyes.

  “I could have been unstoppable in that do-gooder’s body. I could have brought the Normals to their knees and united us all. But you ruined everything.”

  Cassie scrubbed away her tears with a clenched fist, white incandescence spilling out between her fingers. “Oh my God,” she said, her voice flat and cold. “You think you’re the Star, the savior of exokind.”

  She stared at her hands, at the wisps of pure energy rising from them in tendrils. She wished she had the bracelets, but they were probably still where Nate had left them on the hotel roof.

  Nate. His still form slipped out of her arms to the ground. No breath, no heartbeat.