‘Maybe… Maybe it was an unconscious concept. I wasn’t aware of it, but it was there.’
Penny frowned. ‘I’m not sure brains work like that. We’ll talk this through with Hugh at some point. I mean, it’s a mystery, but it’s not exactly an important mystery.’
‘I’m not worried about it. Are you going out tonight?’
Nodding, Penny got to her feet and started for the bedroom. ‘Yeah. With Twilight missing, things up in Churchton have been getting a little troubling.’
‘She really kept a lid on things up there, didn’t she?’
‘Uh-huh. Now I have to.’
19th June.
‘Yeah, I’d say it’s getting worse,’ Skadi said. She sipped her wine and then shrugged. ‘I’m trying, but I can’t bounce around like Twilight can and they aren’t as scared of me as they were of her.’
They were in the Huntress’ Den, Red Huntress’s club, gathered around a table. Red was there with Skadi – who was in civilian clothes and was therefore Jennifer Cooper – and Svetilo had brought Zoe. And June was sitting with Cygnus. Red had looked at June with a raised eyebrow when the couple had arrived, but she was saving any questions for later. The Huntress could smell Ultras. She knew June had changed.
‘We could do with more registered Ultras,’ Red said.
‘Well, the Union is starting its youth training programme on the twenty-seventh,’ Cygnus said, ‘but I guess that won’t make a difference for a while yet.’
‘I’d love to help,’ Zoe said, ‘but, well, still normal.’
‘We keep it that way, da?’ Svetilo said. ‘If you go out fighting crime, I have to take it up. I am happy ruining dresses at fires.’
‘I’d prefer Andrea back anyway. Roger’s had to take on a new assistant at Radium Comics. He asked whether we knew anything about Andrea’s whereabouts and I had to tell him no. We still don’t know, I guess?’
Cygnus shook her head. ‘No one’s found anything that’s got us closer. We’re getting rumours from various places. Nothing solid enough to follow up on. It’s weird. Twilight was sure that their dark side, their third personality, was taking over. Cassandra was sure it had. Last time that happened, it was a mass slaughter. We’ve had nothing like that.’
‘China is badly fragmented,’ Svetilo said. ‘Such a massacre could happen there and not be made general knowledge.’
‘Yeah… Yeah, it’s possible. China is being mentioned a lot. She could be in China, but that doesn’t help much. It’s a huge country and, like you said, it’s in turmoil. All our sources are saying that the place has gone to Hell in a handbasket since May. Doing any kind of investigation there is going to be hard. I mean, the Union isn’t even sure of the status of the treaties we have with them.’
‘Is shame the same cannot be said for Soviets,’ Svetilo said. ‘Dromedovicz is still in power. Was not in Moscow when nuke hit.’
‘Neither was President Vanlaren,’ Cygnus pointed out. ‘They had him airborne and roaming on Air Force One after the attack on New Millennium. China lost almost their entire upper echelons when Beijing was nuked. Then the ship exploded and took out most of their power network. Then they started getting the same random Ultras expressing powers due to the cosmic energy burst.’
‘Da, they had it worse, but I can always live in hope.’
‘Huh, yeah. Well, hope is all we’ve got half the time. This is getting very depressing for a girls’ night.’
‘We need more alcohol!’ Svetilo announced, raising her glass and then downing the contents.
Zoe shook her head, smiling. ‘What can I say? She’s Russian.’
~~~
‘Yes, I have powers,’ June said, keeping her voice low. ‘It was kind of sudden and we’re still working out exactly what I can do.’
‘Kind of sudden?’ Red asked, also speaking quietly. ‘An accident?’
‘Of a sort,’ Cygnus said. ‘We think she’s one of those triggered by the cosmic energy burst when Tan’s ship exploded.’
‘We’re keeping it quiet until we know more,’ June added, ‘but I intend to use what I’ve got. I’m strong, I can project some sort of force shield, and I can fly.’
‘In space,’ Cygnus said, sounding rather proud.
‘I’m going to call myself Astraea.’
‘The name’s not being used?’ Red asked. June shook her head. ‘Well, if you’re sure, I’d register soon even if you don’t plan to start doing anything for a while. Rumours say there’s been something of an uptick in registrations this last month.’
June frowned. ‘Well, I’ve had a few ideas for a costume…’
‘Your big problem is going to be keeping your anonymity. People will probably connect you with Cygnus pretty quickly and the jump from Astraea to June Summerfield isn’t going to be a difficult one.’
‘Yeah, true. I’ll have to think about that for a while.’
‘You’ll think of something,’ Cygnus said, grinning. ‘I can’t wait to see how brief you’re going to make the costume.’
‘Oh, it’ll be brief,’ June replied. ‘I’m quite sure it’ll be brief.’
San Francisco, CA, 23rd June.
Susan Fong sat at the back of a sports bar in Potrero Hill, wondering what she was doing there. She knew why she was there, technically: someone had sent her a message saying they had a proposition for her. Since the Nine Kings had met their demise at the hands of Mink and a couple of out-of-town heroes, work had been a little slack. She had fallen back on old methods of making money and playing badger games with tourists was no longer her idea of fun.
This bar was hardly fell into the ‘fun’ category either. Several of the patrons had taken in the white cheongsam she was wearing and come to the conclusion that she was available for hire. A subset of those were making up their minds to make an offer and if that happened, whether the person she had come to meet had turned up or not, Susan was going to leave.
Then the woman in the red dress walked in. The dress was far shorter than Susan’s cheongsam, but no one was going to mistake this woman for a prostitute. Or, if they did, they were not going to say a thing because of the gorilla walking in behind her. The man was big, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, and he looked dangerous. Dangerous in a ‘I will rip off your arms if you look at me funny’ way, but to Susan’s eyes, he was a pussycat compared to the woman. Beautiful, long-legged, and blonde, the woman looked like a good old southern belle, but Susan was an empath and this woman was scary as Hell.
She stopped at Susan’s table and smiled. ‘Susan Fong. It’s just such a pleasure to meet you. You can call me Diamond.’ The bodyguard – he had to be a bodyguard – turned, folding his arms and looking out at the room. Diamond sat down opposite Susan. ‘I have heard so much about you. I think you’re a perfect fit for a little group I’m putting together.’
‘What kind of group?’ Susan asked. ‘I mean… Things have been a little slow around here recently and I’m interested just because of that, but I have no idea who you are.’
‘Of course you don’t, honey. I like to keep myself out of the public eye. Let’s just say that I’m something of an entrepreneur. I see an opening and I go for it. There’s an opening in this city right now that Mink, Cygnus, and Twilight opened up. An opening at the poker table, if you will. With the right hand, the right group of people, I think we can take the whole pot.’
Susan looked at Diamond for a second, sipped her wine, and considered. ‘That’s crazy,’ she said.
‘Sometimes you have to take a few risks to win big.’
‘I didn’t say I wasn’t interested. Tell me more.’
Shenzhen, China, 24th June.
Midnight stood in the back room of a shop in the Shekou Residential District of Shenzhen. Billy had said it might be difficult to get there without papers; Midnight had laughed. The shop was simply a meeting place and this was the second time she had been there. The first time had been to give her contact specifications for what she wanted. Now she was pick
ing up her goods. She had made the man wait outside while she changed. Everything had to be just right before she would pay him the rest of his money.
The outfit was easy to move in. That was what she had asked for and got. It was also fairly sexy, which was not an absolute requirement, but she could make it work for her. There was a bra and tight, hip-hugging trousers made of a light, ballistic cloth. Tight, fingerless gloves of the same material came up to her elbows and high-heeled boots came up over her knees. Then there were the harnesses: one strapped around her chest to hold her sword on her back, while one held a knife against her left thigh. A third attached her revolver to her right thigh. Finally, there was a spare pad of Velcro on her left arm to which she could attach whatever else was needed.
Now she felt armed. The sword and the knife had been made by the same artisan, something of a specialist in modern melee weapons. Both had single edges and a far more modern design than her old sword. They had a squared-off look to them and they were made of modern alloys to hold a fantastically sharp edge. Her pistol was a highly modified, snub-nosed weapon firing a .454 Casull round. The kick on the thing would be powerful, but with her new strength enhancements, she was confident that she could handle it. Putting multiple rounds in a target might be tough with the recoil, but she really only needed one.
There was a mirror in the room with her and she examined herself in it for several seconds. Yes, this would work nicely. Turning, she picked up the bag she had brought with her and slipped her sword free of its scabbard. She walked out into the front room of the shop, swinging the blade casually, as though getting a feel for it. The shop was closed. The only people in it were Midnight and her contact.
‘It’s good. I like it.’ She gave the man a smile and swung her sword absently. ‘The blade is perfectly balanced.’
‘The man who makes them is a genius,’ her contact replied.
‘I hope you’ve paid him well.’
‘He’s been paid. Now I want mine.’
Midnight nodded. ‘None of the people you got this stuff from knows anything about me, I hope?’
‘I said, didn’t I? Total anonymity.’
‘Then it just leaves your reward.’ Midnight stepped forward and drove the tip of her sword into the man’s eye. It emerged from the back of his skull and he did not make a sound as he died. Midnight smiled. ‘A beautiful weapon. It will do perfectly.’
New Millennium City, MD, 25th June.
‘Good afternoon, New Millennium City,’ the presenter on ACPN said. It was time for the midday news, but… ‘We are going over live to Andrews Air Force Base where President Vanlaren is about to make an announcement.’
June glanced at Penny, sitting on the sofa beside her. ‘Wonder what this is about?’
‘Probably isn’t good,’ Penny replied. ‘Good news is in short supply these days.’
The screen had changed to showing the temporary press room which had been set up at Andrews. With the centre of Washington still in ruins, a lot of government functions had been moved to the base. That put the government within the federal reserve which was still in operation despite the fact that it had been proven to be ineffective. Vanlaren was walking out onto the podium; they could see Delphine in the background, her eyes scanning the collection of reporters and her mind likely occupied with keeping the president safe from psychic attack.
June raised an eyebrow. Vanlaren looked pumped. He looked very much like a man who could see his future and knew it was good, but there was also a strong hint of pride in him. And how was she getting this by watching a TV screen?
‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ Vanlaren said, ‘I have a short statement to make and then I’ll take questions if you feel you need to ask me anything.’
‘Weird thing to say,’ Penny commented.
‘He’s really pleased about something,’ June said.
‘Twenty-seven years ago,’ Vanlaren went on, ‘this country suffered a loss even greater than the one we went through in May. The great metropolis of New York was submerged beneath lava and volcanic ash. We mourned the loss of that city and its people barely ten days ago. On that fateful day in nineteen eighty-eight, America lost more than just a city. Captain Freedom, our national hero, sacrificed himself to bring down Magmatic. We thought him lost forever.’
Penny’s eyes widened. ‘He’s back?’
‘But now we know that nothing can keep the American spirit down. Ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure and my honour to present to you’ – pause for dramatic effect – ‘Captain Freedom.’
‘Oh my God!’ Penny shrieked, bouncing to her feet.
June was watching the tall, well-muscled man who was walking on stage to take the president’s place. He was wearing the same costume he had always worn: a reinforced bodysuit in white with stripes of red around the middle and a silver star on his chest. He was a handsome blonde with blue eyes and rugged features. His nose was a little heavy, but his mouth made up for it with a sensuous quality. Neither June nor Penny had ever seen the man in real life, but he looked just like the pictures you saw every year on the anniversary of his disappearance.
He had been a soldier once, fighting in the Vietnam War and actually attaining the rank of captain. Back then he had just been Alexander Harrow, but he had become Captain Freedom not long after returning from the war in nineteen seventy-five. He had always been a fairly humble man – it was one of the things America liked about him – and he gave that impression now as he walked out to the podium, rubbing at his neck as though nervous. One of the most powerful men in the world, maybe the most powerful in America, and he was nervous. Except June was not really sensing that and she was a little confused over what she was sensing.
‘Uh, hi,’ Freedom said. He gave a disarming grin and the audience of reporters produced a rumble of laughter. His accent was from New York; he had been born in Queens and still carried a lot of that heritage with him. ‘It’s been a while since I was up on a stage like this. Or so I’m told. Twenty-seven years, huh? That’s a long holiday.’ More laughter. The hero pulled himself up straight. ‘Well, vacation’s over and Captain Freedom is back on the job. It’s going to take a little while for me to get the hang of things, but I’m here to tell you that America has its national hero back.’
‘Captain Freedom!’ The cry was universal, but the great man pointed at a woman in the front row.
‘Angela Mayberry, ACPN,’ she said. ‘You’ve spent twenty-seven years trapped in rock–’
‘Uh, let me stop you there, Miss Mayberry. I understand where you’re going with this, but I don’t remember twenty-seven years underground. I woke up a week or so ago. Managed to push my way out in a couple of hours and I came here. It’s taken a few days to get myself sorted out and tell everyone I was back and, to be honest, the world’s a little different from the way I left it, but I’ll get the hang of things fast enough. Hell, America’s still America, right?’
‘That’s a blessing,’ Penny said. ‘He could’ve been awake the whole time. That would be–’
‘He lied,’ June said flatly.
‘What?’
‘He lied about not remembering. Or he’s in denial. He remembers.’
‘Is this part of your new powers?’
‘I guess. I mean, I could be wrong, but I can just… see it, taste it. He’s not telling the truth.’
Penny frowned. ‘I’m not sure I’d want to remember being trapped like that for decades.’
‘Neither would I. You’re right. He probably just doesn’t want to deal with it on national TV. What the Hell, he’s back. You said there wasn’t much good news around.’
‘I did.’ Penny’s grin was infectious. ‘Now there’s the best news ever! Well, aside from getting a good lead on Andrea.’
‘We make do with what we’ve got. Let’s party!’
Hong Kong, China, 26th June.
Friday night and the Midnight Dancer was pretty full. Almost two weeks had passed since Midnight had killed the boss there and the cu
stomers were back along with a lot of 8G triad members and a new Red Pole, Chén Yŏng. Chén was tougher than Zhāng, a proven fighter with years of experience and skin which could stop bullets; the triad was taking no chances that Midnight would return and take out another of their people.
So, when Midnight walked out of the shadows at the side of the room and started toward the table where Chén was sitting, he got to his feet, picked up a sword he had secreted under the table, and stepped out onto the dance floor to meet her. He slid his sword from its scabbard and threw the latter aside. Guns had proven less than effective against this woman, but a sword… His weapon was a dao, a single-edged blade designed for strong, chopping blows. It had belonged to his father and Chén was a good swordsman.
Midnight smiled and lifted her own sword free of its scabbard. Then she pulled her knife free and black fire coursed down the length of both blades. Chén faltered, taking stock. ‘I assume that this display of force means you people aren’t ready to meet my demands,’ Midnight said.
‘No,’ Chén replied. ‘The Eight-G does not give in to threats from foreign monsters.’
‘Good choice of words. You’ve no idea how much of a monster I am, Chén Yŏng. Come on then. Let’s see what you’ve got.’
Chén moved, swinging his sword up and around in a blow which should have carved into Midnight’s shoulder and deep into her chest. Instead, Midnight brought up her knife and the two blades clashed. Chén gasped as the black flames seemed to wrap around his sword, but then Midnight’s sword was driving toward him. He tried to block, but he was far too slow and the blade pierced his chest despite his toughened skin. Except that it did not feel like a blade. It very much felt as though someone had pushed an icicle into his heart.
He stepped back. ‘What are you?’
‘Darkness,’ Midnight replied, and her sword swept up and down; Chén tried to block the blow he saw coming, but she was too fast. Cold soaked into his body as the flaming blade passed through his left shoulder, down through his chest, and out via his right hip. He felt drained, barely able to hold up his sword. What had she done to him? Her knife smashed into his sword and, to his amazement, he saw cracks appear in the hardened metal. Then her sword slashed through his chest again and the cold bit deep. Chén’s eyes rolled back in his head and he fell, collapsing onto the dance floor of the club he had been running for less than two weeks.
True Dark Page 4
