by H. L. Burke
“I think that deserves an answer.” Prism crossed her arms, resting them on top of her stomach. “How did this happen?”
“First off, Professor Brink, Jr. was never registered as a supervillain. Smart, but powerless. Also he has never been accused, let alone convicted, of any crime. We had no reason to suspect—”
“He’s the son of a known supervillain. Maybe not a sable, but Professor Brink used his technology to wreak havoc on multiple occasions: holding whole city blocks for ransom with his stasis gun, vaporizing a bank building to access the vaults beneath. It took my father and a full team to bring him down, and this was back in the 90s!” Prism lurched out of her chair. “With all the scientific advancements in the last two decades, his son could be practically unstoppable with half his father’s intellect, and from what you’re telling me he was easily as maniacally brilliant as Senior. Able to advance his father’s research. DOSA took down his father at the height of his powers and forced him to work on our projects until he stroked out. We then shoved him in some God forsaken care facility to let him die alone and forgotten.” Prism’s hands shook. “Did it not occur to you for one moment that his son might have some motive for revenge?”
“What Brink offered had immeasurable value to DOSA, if not the world as a whole!” The Adjudicator leaned forward in his chair, eyes glinting beneath his mask. “Imagine, being able to extend life, to bring heroes back from the grave after they perish in the line of duty—”
“So is Aiden alive?” Prism interrupted. “You said Brink was only able to bring people back in a vegetative state, but the villains on Brink’s team are able to move about, function, and use their powers—even to an extent Aiden wasn’t able to in real life.”
Talon toyed with his coffee cup. “We’re not exactly sure what’s going on, honestly. Considering that Aiden would never turn against DOSA if he had the ability to comprehend what he was doing, we don’t think Brink was able to restore his subjects fully, but as you said what the subjects have done so far speaks to greater progress than was shown during the time Brink was under our supervision.”
“So he either improved on his process after he parted ways with you, or he was holding back what he could really do until he had the freedom to act on his true motives rather than allow his technology to serve DOSA.” Fade’s mouth wrinkled in contempt. “Typical supervillain save-your-best-cards-for-the-perfect-opportunity move.”
“Considering how quickly after he disappeared these attacks began, we’re assuming the second.” A weary look passed over Shepherd’s face. “The evidence warehouse was the first attack we couldn’t hide, but he had a previous one, a morgue that held the body of Cromlech, a small time villain with super strength who I believe you encountered during the banquet attack, along with Aiden and a villain named Crushwave who was part of his original experiments.”
Prism nodded slowly. “So are those the only three people he has access to?”
“That we know of, but it’s a safe bet,” Glint put in. “From my understanding—admittedly as someone who was filled in less than forty-eight hours ago—to be reanimated, the cause of death has to be very specific. He can’t restore a crushed body or replace organs, and he can’t reverse disease or aging. Also, it’s the sable healing factor that even makes it possible at all. It doesn’t work on normies, and the number of sable bodies available at any given time is limited. We’re a definite minority even now.”
Every memory of Aiden, every ache of grief that she’d gone through since his death, swirled within Prism until her whole body quivered. “You should’ve told me. You should’ve told me the moment you realized Aiden’s body had been acquired by Brink, but again when he disappeared—Talon, how could you keep this from me? I thought ... I thought you cared about me and Aiden.”
Talon hung his head. “I wanted to, Lucia, but I was afraid it would do more harm than good. Whatever is out there, it isn’t Aiden. It may have his body. It may have his powers, but it’s not him. I’d hoped we could recapture him and ... deal with the issue before you became aware of it rather than break open the wound of his loss or give you false hope.”
The world spun. Deal with the issue.
“You want to kill him ... again,” she choked out.
Fade slid off the table and pulled her into a hug, pressing her face into his chest.
“He’s already dead,” Glint said, his voice muffled by Fade’s arms around her. “Like Talon said, we have no reason to believe that Brink has cracked restoring the minds of his subjects, only the bodies.”
“What about his powers?” Fade asked. “Aiden was a powerful sable, but nowhere near as powerful as he was when we encountered him at the banquet.”
“That’s another thing Brink was supposedly working on for us,” Shepherd sounded weary, as if she wanted the whole thing to go away.
They’ll make it go away by killing Aiden. By sweeping it under the rug. Pretending they never tried to use him as a guinea pig for this whole twisted mess. Prism’s heart broke open letting out a gushing stream of grief and pain. Oh, dear Lord, how can I even work with these people knowing what they did? Please, tell me what to do. Please.
“We’ve known for some time that genetic manipulation can unlock super abilities in certain individuals, but heightening those abilities has been the holy grail of sable-based research for some time,” the Adjudicator said, as calmly as if he were discussing his income taxes. “The difficulty is that we can only experiment on live sable subjects so most of the research has been theoretical. The existence of multiple sable subjects who were technically already dead and so could be experimented upon without moral implications was too great an opportunity to pass up.”
Something in Prism broke. She yanked away from Fade and turned on the Adjudicator, pulse pounding, breath coming in uneven gasps.
“Without moral implications? You dragged my brother into some sort of miserable half-life with no free will. You had no way of knowing if he’d be willing to be sacrificed for your wretched science, and for what? To make a more powerful sable? To increase your own prowess? To further DOSA’s power?” Her power trembled in her fingertips, wanting to send a light blast straight into the man’s self-righteous, smug, stupid face. “You had no right! None of you! What you did—Oh, Aiden.”
She collapsed, sobbing, back into her husband’s arms.
Everything disappeared into tears and pain. She clutched at Fade’s shirt, trying to control herself, trying to harness her grief into something actionable, something to give her a goal or purpose, but if Glint was right, if nothing remained of Aiden’s soul, should she even want to pursue this? To see him like that?
She tried to stop her tears but started hiccupping. Fade patted her back, his cheek pressed against the top of her head, his arms tightening around her as each wave of anguish rolled over her, pushing her deeper into despair.
Maybe Talon was right. Wouldn’t Aiden want to be freed of whatever this was? Was his soul even able to rest if his body remained tethered to the earth? Was he trapped somewhere between the living and the dead?
Prism recalled conversations with Aiden, about him wanting to see their father again, about his hope of a chance to do just that beyond the grave. The thought that Aiden and Dad had been reunited, that they had each other, that they were in the presence of a loving God who would keep them safe and well until her own time to join them, there were days it felt like it was the only thing keeping her going. The Aiden she knew wouldn’t want this. He’d want life or he’d want Heaven. Not some sort of hellish in between.
The memory of Aiden, his face and voice stirred something.
The dream!
The dream she and Tanvi had shared that at the time she’d dismissed—but if he were out there, had it really been a dream?
He called to me. I heard him. Tanvi heard him. If he’s gone, how could he have done that?
She forced herself to stand straight again, keeping one hand on Fade’s arm to steady herself.
> “No, Aiden is still there. Remember, Fade? He called to me and Tanvi. At the time it didn’t make sense, but now, knowing about Brink and the experiments to increase his power, it had to be him.” Her throat closed in on itself, but she managed to rasp out. “I know he’s still there, and he’s trying to reach out to us.”
The four committee members exchanged glances.
“When was this, Lucia?” Talon murmured.
“Around the same time Wildfyre joined the team so ... three months ago?” How had she let herself be so complacent? She should’ve torn the world apart the moment she found out Tanvi had experienced the same dream.
“And has it happened since then?” Shepherd pressed.
“No, but it can’t be a coincidence. Not if he was speaking to both me and Tanvi—”
“One nightmare months ago is proof of nothing.” The Adjudicator turned his back on her. “I’m sorry for your loss and for any additional disquiet this has caused—”
Fade’s energy hummed sharply as if he were preparing to spring through the table to get at the Adjudicator.
“But you clearly lack the emotional distance you need to approach this—”
“Shut up, Frank, before I order Fade to punch you,” Talon interrupted.
The Adjudicator’s shoulders hitched towards his ears, but he remained angled away from them.
Talon approached Prism. “While I wouldn’t put it the way he did, I have to tell you, I don’t see an outcome here that doesn’t involve you more hurt than you already are. Perhaps Aiden had a moment of clarity that allowed him to break through once. However, he hasn’t repeated that call for help in the last three months, and he has continued to participate in criminal activity at Brink’s behest. We have to assume he’s lost to us. I promise you to do everything in my power to take Aiden alive. Once we have him in custody, perhaps something more can be discerned, but until then, we need to prepare for the worst.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “Lucia, for your own well-being, you need to step back from this. Do you really believe you could take a shot at your brother? Because it seems like Brink’s endgame is forcing Aiden and the others he’s revived to go after DOSA and do as much damage as possible. Him being your brother won’t protect you or your baby.”
Prism stared at Talon’s hand. The gesture didn’t soothe her the way it once might have. Rather than comforting, it felt impersonal and fake. Conscious of the eyes on her, she didn’t jerk away but instead stood quietly and avoided eye contact.
“I think we’re all in agreement about that.” Shepherd stood. “You’re too close to this. With everything you’ve endured in the last two years, I would suggest you start your maternity leave early, set aside this time to focus on your health, both mentally and physically.”
Glint concentrated on his feet. “He’s right, Prism. When you lost Aiden the first time, you went off the reservation and nearly got yourself killed facing Cosmic. Now, with everything else going on—Fade, you agree with me, right?”
Prism’s chin dropped towards her chest, remembering Fade’s request that she stay away from this.
“It’s not my call,” Fade said quietly, his words stirring hope within her. “Whatever she chooses, I’ll support her.”
“It’s not a matter of choice.” The Adjudicator spun around, a sneer contorting his face. “Talon, even you must see that we have to keep her away from this. Suspend her if we must. That way if she tries to interfere, we can have her restrained for her own—”
“It shouldn’t come to that.” Talon held up his hand. “Lucia, please, I’m asking you to let me handle this. If we find out anything more about Aiden, you’ll be the first to know.”
Like you promised to call me if you found out anything about the banquet attack? Or like you hid the truth about my brother and his whereabouts for almost two years?
Fighting this wouldn’t end well, though. Not in the moment. She needed to retreat and reevaluate. Whatever she did, she wouldn’t do it under the purview of the committee. No, they’d lost her respect as well as her trust.
“I’ll go home,” she said, hoping that sounded like enough of a promise to satisfy Talon.
“Good.” He squeezed her shoulder one last time before withdrawing. “Do you want me to have someone see you out?”
She shook her head. “I know the way.”
Glint hurried to open the door. They left the conference room and walked through the lobby. Christy gaped at them as they passed.
“Never mind about that 3 p.m. meeting, by the way,” Fade called to her before they reached the elevator.
In spite of everything, Prism laughed quietly. What would she do without Fade?
The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. Fade wrapped his arm around her as they entered. When the door closed behind them, she leaned into him, her head against his chest, her body angled so the swell of her stomach didn’t interfere with the hug.
She looked up at him. “I know you asked me to stay away from—”
“Shh.” He rested his finger across her lips then eyed the corner of the elevator. She followed his gaze to where a security camera lurked. A sinking feeling overcame her. Were they really to the point of having to hide their plans from DOSA? Where DOSA might be spying on them?
She bit her bottom lip then whispered. “I want to talk to the team first thing when we get home.”
DOSA or no DOSA, she couldn’t sit this one out. Not when there was a chance she might save Aiden.
Chapter Twelve
The road stretched endlessly into a cloudy night, unbrightened by stars. Frank Chamberlain’s grip tightened on the steering wheel of the unmarked DOSA SUV he’d commandeered for tonight’s mission. Even knowing he’d selected one without tracking or surveillance installed, he felt naked deprived of his cape and cowl. He still wore his form fitting body armor under his button-down shirt, suit jacket, and slacks, but it wasn’t bullets or blades he feared tonight but recognition.
Enough people in DOSA knew of his true identity—and more suspected it—to make going without his recognizable uniform imperfect protection. Still, if a passing motorist or a gas station clerk sighted him dressed as the Adjudicator, it could make the news—or social media which would be arguably worse. Even here, in this empty stretch of farm country, he tensed at every passing semi truck.
A massive structure loomed on the horizon, a blacker spot against the already inky night sky. As he approached, his headlights illuminated the patchy gray surface of abandoned grain elevators. Years of neglect scarred the outside of the building along with graffiti from taggers willing to make the arduous drive into the middle of nowhere just to sign their name on a forgotten relic.
He pulled up beside the structure and turned off the engine. For a moment the dashboard lights continued to glow, then all went dark. He drew a deep breath.
I shouldn’t be here. I should’ve just called—but no. Even burner phones are too risky right now. Besides, I want to look him in the eye.
Chamberlain stepped out of the SUV and double checked that his keys were secure in his pocket before shutting the door. Immediately every hair on his body stood on end as energy swept over him. He shuddered and approached a section of the wall. Holding up his burner phone to use the flashlight feature, he scanned the area. In a moment he’d located a small black square embedded into the silo’s exterior. He pressed his thumb against it, and a panel swooshed upward, revealing a narrow doorway and cold blue light beyond.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, he entered. A staircase spiraled around the inside of the silo, disappearing above him. The energy still hummed.
His jaw tightened. Brink better not be planning to use the gateway. As clueless as they were, even DOSA might notice a power surge of that level coming out of a rural farming community.
More convinced than ever that Brink had gone off script, he quickened his pace and jogged up the stairs.
By the time he was halfway up, sweat beaded on his brow, and he paused to wipe it
away. He cursed his genes, not for the first time in his life. When DOSA had started, he’d attempted to find a laboratory that would activate sable genes hidden somewhere in his DNA—only for several labs to fail in the attempt. That hadn’t stopped him. Nothing ever stopped him from getting what he wanted.
He’d managed to find other enhancements that allowed him to begin first a vigilante career then slide into DOSA approved work after a few high profile collars gained him respect from the hero community. Of course, there had been some political manipulation from his connected father, but that wouldn’t have stuck if not for Chamberlain’s own tenacity.
I’ve outlasted and outlived dozens of so-called super-ables. I’m not going to be beaten now, and especially not by stairs.
Laughing quietly at his own inner monologue, he pushed up the remaining steps to another fingerprint controlled door. This opened to reveal a polished cement floor, gray cement pillars, and a room that stretched the length of the building through multiple silos. His footfalls echoed ominously as he strode through this, leaving no doubt that Brink would know he was coming. However, the scientist was nowhere in sight.
Chamberlain entered the second rounded room. This one only had a narrow pathway, the half circle sides closed off by clear, unbreakable glass. These half circles were themselves divided into cells, three of which contained subjects strapped to tables and covered in wires, suction cups, and tubes. He settled in front of the cell holding a thin, pale faced man with a scraggly blond beard. Gray sweats clung to his emaciated frame. Unlike Crushwave and Cromlech who had proven simple enough to control, allowing Brink to exercise and feed them through more normal means, Aiden Powell had caused multiple disruptions. Even with the use of disruptors and the control chip inserted in his spine, the young sable continued to resist.
“Typical Powell,” Chamberlain spat the name.
That family had been a thorn in his side as long as he’d been in DOSA, from the early days when Kevin Powell’s influence had pushed inflexible ethics over the hard choices that needed to be made to maintain law and order. The memory of that insufferable villain-reject, Fade, rubbing it in Chamberlain’s face that Kevin Powell had turned down the seat Chamberlain now possessed, the seat that was his everything, the triumph of his illustrious career in crime prevention, made his blood boil. He slammed his fist into the glass, wishing he could rush to the end of his plan, where he could be rid of the necessary evil of Brink and his team and sit uncontested in the highest position in DOSA, committee gone, himself declared the unquestionable and unmatchable Secretary of Super-Abled Affairs.