Phantom was delighted by this manifestation of powers: Misty had been born to Phantom’s sister, who had never developed special abilities of her own. Instead she served as a high-ranking administrator in Sterling City’s government, secretly feeding information back to Cloak. Misty saw her mother only a handful of times every year, but the High Council did not view this as a problem. Misty had powers, and it was best that she be kept around others like her.
In the past year, Misty had learned to control her transformation—even to sublimate other objects to travel with her—though she still tended to fall apart involuntarily when she got emotional.
Now Misty’s face lit up as she suddenly remembered why she had come into Alex’s room in the first place. “The Rangers! Justice Tower! I heard Titan and Julie talking about it. I almost forgot that’s what I came to talk about before your modeling poses distracted me!” She was exuberant now, like nothing had ever bothered her. “Oh please, you have to talk your mom into letting me go. I have to be there! I can fight! Or I can sneak in and unlock the door! I’ll stay in mist form the whole time. Just please, please, please—they have to let me go! Everyone will be talking about it forever after it’s over and I’ll be completely left out.”
She kept talking, but Alex stopped listening. The fact that he might not be taking part in the attack had yet to fully sink in. Watching Misty practically burst with enthusiasm made his chest feel heavy. He wanted so badly to be able to celebrate the upcoming attack too. How could he tell her that he had failed so miserably at his mission? Alex frowned as she continued to jabber. His room was beginning to feel unbearably stuffy.
“And then, after we take over the tower, I wonder if we’ll get to move there. Can you imagine, living up so high after being underground for so long? With all that light? I bet we’ll all get giant rooms. And a pool. I bet there’s a pool! Maybe on the roof, with palm trees, do you think? And . . . hey, what’s the matter with you? How can you look so sad when we’re going to be famous soon?”
“I don’t know,” Alex said. “I guess I’m just tired.”
“But it’s only, like, seven thirty.”
“Trust me, it’s been a long day.”
“Oh, okay, fine,” she said. For a fleeting beat she looked bored, before the paper animals on Alex’s desk caught her eye. “Ooh! Is that a giraffe? Can I have this? Oh my gosh, and this one too? I love this little frog. She’s so cute! And—”
A friendly succession of three short raps at the door stopped her midsentence.
“You see,” Alex said to Misty, rising to walk to the entrance. “This is how a normal person comes by for a visit.”
He pressed the round button on the wall beside the door. There was a click, and the door slid open left to right. In the hallway stood Gage, holding two plates of sandwiches in front of him.
“I thought you might need sustenance,” he said. “Peanut butter and jelly.”
“If you were a different person, I’d swear you could read my mind,” Alex said, taking one of the plates and heading back to his desk. Gage followed him, the door closing noiselessly behind him.
“Oh! Is that one for me?” Misty asked, reaching out for Gage’s plate. He pulled it away from her.
“That’s quite illogical. How could this be for you when I didn’t know you were here?” he asked. “Perhaps you could get your own food at this time.”
Misty stared up at him, unspeaking. Alex bit into his sandwich to suppress a grin. Gage was only a few months older than Alex, and he was probably the smartest person Alex had ever met. Unfortunately, Misty had a hard time following him sometimes.
“He means you have to leave now. Go get a snack or something,” Alex explained.
“Fine. Be that way,” Misty said. She walked to the door with an exaggerated stomp, turning back to them before exiting. “But don’t expect my help when you’re cornered in Justice Tower and you need the Mist to save you.”
Before Alex could respond, she was halfway gone, seeping through the crack between the bottom of the door and the floor, nothing more than a cloud of particles.
“Do you think I could keep her out if I put my dirty clothes up against the bottom of the door?” Alex asked.
“I was thinking more along the lines of reinforced rubber weather stripping,” Gage said. “Or perhaps simply a high-powered exhaust fan.”
Alex was glad to see Gage in a good mood. As Cloak’s weapons and electronics specialist, he was always busy, evidenced by the deep purple grooves beneath each of his eyes. Alex imagined that with the recent developments, Gage was hardly sleeping at all.
“Doing a little light reading?” Gage asked, gesturing to the Ranger profiles still open on Alex’s computer screen.
“Oh, yeah,” Alex said. “Although you don’t really get what ‘sound-based energy’ means until you’re being thrown across a bank by a sonic boom.”
“It’s a shame we don’t know more about the source of their abilities,” Gage said. “It’s possible that they have a common point of origin, like Cloak’s. Dr. Photon’s manipulation of the magnetic field is of particular interest to me, though I doubt I’ll ever have the opportunity to examine it in depth.”
“I bet he’s not even a real doctor,” Alex said. “Like he had time to get a PhD while flying around the world taking out mob bosses and wannabe villains.”
“Perhaps some small college awarded him an honorary doctorate,” Gage suggested, grinning. “He would look good on an alumni list.”
They both laughed. Alex tossed the last bit of sandwich into his mouth.
“Hey, you didn’t tell me about the whole Justice Tower thing with Barrage,” Alex said. He wasn’t upset that Gage hadn’t told him, just surprised. The two of them had been practically inseparable since Alex could remember. Their relationship disappointed Shade and Volt. While they admitted that Gage was a prodigy, they never viewed his genius as being a superpower. Gage’s father had been an ambitious, high-ranking Uniband who had hoped that his brilliant technological designs might secure him a seat on the High Council, despite his lack of Umbra Powers or Cloak ancestry. In the fallout of the Victory Park battle, however, the Society was in shambles, and gadgets were the least of its concerns. Gage’s father worked harder, faster than he ever had, desperate for their acceptance. But all he received was an early death due to a careless mistake in his workshop. Eventually, Gage stepped into the role his father had occupied, hoping to honor the man’s memory by impressing the High Council. But the young inventor was still only a Uniband, unmarked by Phantom’s dark energy, and little more than a glorified servant—a fact of which he was well aware.
“I wasn’t informed of the details until Barrage came to my workshop this morning and told me to pack all the analytical equipment I could carry,” Gage said. “I was briefed when we were en route.”
“I can’t say I’m jealous. You smell like a barbecue.”
“Yes, well, from what I can deduce, things did not go so well for you today either,” Gage countered. He raised his eyes to Alex. Gage was as good at analyzing people as he was at electronics and machines.
“So you’ve heard I’m off the strike team.”
“Your mother came to my workshop following the War Room meeting with some things for me to look at—analyses of Lone Star’s energy she managed to acquire. She discussed the issue with Phantom before the two of them left. Though I’m not sure that any of your fellow Betas are aware of your . . . probation,” he said.
“We got the diamond, at least,” Alex offered for the second time that day.
“Yes. Its thermal conductivity will prove to be most useful in my recent designs. It should keep the device I am working on from overheating.”
“So the Excelsior was for you?” Alex asked. “I thought it was just an easy target. What are you using it for?”
“You’re trying to change the subject,” Gage said. “Did you save one of the Junior Rangers?”
“I don’t know what happened,” Al
ex said. “It was weird. I know that they’re our enemies, but I didn’t want her to get hurt. To die. Something about her was . . . different, I guess.”
“You’re talking about her in pretty friendly terms.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Alex said. “It’s not like that.”
“Alex, I may be Cloak’s techie, but I am also your friend,” Gage said. “I’m telling you without hesitation that sympathizing with your sworn enemy will cause you nothing but problems. I’ve read Shakespeare. I know how this sort of thing ends.”
“You’re making way too much out of this,” Alex said. “You should be helping me think of a way to prove that I need to be on the strike team. This mission is the sort of thing that happens only once in a lifetime. It could change the world.”
“The operation is months away, Alex,” Gage said. “That is plenty of time to get back into the good graces of the High Council. Besides, strength in numbers, right?”
“Do you think they’ll call in the Omegas?” Alex asked. “I haven’t seen any of them since before I got my powers.”
The Omegas were three superpowered kids who had served as the Beta Team at the time of the Victory Park attack. When their parents were killed in the battle, the Omegas vowed to avenge them. The High Council nurtured this hatred, molding them into covert operatives and turning them into the Cloak Society’s first team of assassins. They were then sent out across the country to carry out whatever missions the High Council dreamt up for them.
“I doubt it,” Gage said. “The Omegas’ greatest asset is that no one outside knows they exist. I’m sure the council will want to keep them off the field as a contingency plan just in case things go awry.”
“Yeah,” Alex said. “Hey, do you think you could sneak me out of here for a little bit? I could use a few minutes up top.”
“Do you think it is wise to break a rule when you’re in trouble already?”
“I’ll only get in trouble if someone finds out,” Alex said, unrelenting. “And they won’t with your help. Just a quick visit outside. Please?”
Gage sighed as Alex contorted his face into a pathetic plea. He longed to breathe oxygen that wasn’t recycled. If he could just see the sky for a little bit, he knew he’d feel better.
“All right. But only for a few minutes.”
“You are the best.”
Alex grabbed his electronic wristwatch from the nightstand—his powers wreaked havoc on watches with cogs and hands—and followed Gage. They walked quietly down the hall until they reached the elevator. Gage got off on the first floor.
“I’ll take over on security watch for twenty minutes,” Gage said as the doors closed. “Be back underground before then.”
The first floor housed the Unibands, who had limited access to the other levels. Many of them were well trained in combat should they ever be needed for a mission, but most of them served as caretakers of the compound or errand runners. Gage unofficially led a team of research and development engineers here—the thought being that if there was ever an accident within their laboratories and workshops, none of the higher-level Cloak members would be harmed.
It was just getting dark by the time Alex exited the elevator on the surface, and made his way to the empty drive-in theater snack bar. Posts topped with rusted speakers jutted out of the earth like rows of gravestones on either side of him. As a kid, he had thought the ruins of the drive-in were creepy, until his mother told him to think of it as a movie set, a place pretending to be something else, and from that point on they never bothered him. Technically he wasn’t supposed to be outside the base without permission, but he came aboveground whenever Gage was willing to part with his tinkering long enough to help him sneak out.
Alex climbed to the roof of the snack bar, using the old wooden ladder propped up against its side. There, he sat on the building’s edge, staring out at nothing in particular. Through one of the missing panels on the old drive-in screen, he could just make out the last sliver of sun setting in the west. Gage was right. The attack was months away. Anything could happen in that time. For now, he could just let his heart race with the excitement of knowing that the Cloak Society’s greatest hour was fast approaching.
He lay back onto the roof with his hands behind his head. Above him, the sky was muddled shades of blue, the first stars of the night beginning to appear in the east. He stayed like this as time passed slowly, thinking of Sterling City’s inhabitants saluting him as he stood beside his Cloak brothers and sisters. He felt as if he were drifting upward into the heavens, until at last the beeping of his watch brought him back down into reality and back to his home beneath the earth.
5
The Prisoner’s Dilemma
The next morning Alex awoke to heavy knocks on his bedroom door.
“Alex,” a voice called from the hallway. In his grogginess, Alex barely recognized it as Mallory’s. “Just making sure you’re awake. We’re due topside in fifteen.”
“Yeah, Mal,” he called back to her, trying to mask the sleep in his voice. “I’ll be there in a second.”
I must have forgotten to set my alarm, he thought. Eyes still closed, he reached out with one hand toward his bedside table, groping for his lamp. His fingers slapped at nothing, repeatedly falling on bare wood. He sat up on his knees and rubbed his hands on the wall near the foot of his bed until he found the light switch, causing the harsh overhead bulbs to flicker on with a hum. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he realized that his lamp was on the floor, along with his alarm clock, water glass, and everything else that had been beside his bed when he fell asleep the night before. The cup was shattered, bits of glass scattered everywhere.
This sort of thing had happened before. A bad dream might send his sheets and blankets flying off his bed or push the clutter on his desk to the floor. Alex swept the broken glass onto a sheet of paper with his mind. Once he was sure that no stray pieces had been overlooked, he put everything back where it belonged. The clock was dead. He picked it up and shook it. Something rattled inside its plastic shell. Yawning, he grabbed his watch from the desk and saw that it was 6:53—seven minutes before he was supposed to be aboveground. He raced through his room, changed into sneakers, running shorts, and a black T-shirt, and ran to the elevator at the end of the hallway.
The Cloak Society kept its members in peak physical condition. Cardiovascular health was of particular concern. After all, you never know when you’ll be forced to dash through back alleys and side streets to evade pursuing forces of the law. Sure, enhanced durability and stamina are standard issue with most superpowers, but they certainly don’t prepare you for uphill sprints carrying bags of loot and weaponry. Under Barrage’s watch, the Beta Team jogged five miles every morning, circling the abandoned movie theater parking lot twenty times before the Texas sun climbed high into the sky.
Alex joined his peers, who were stretching in front of the decaying movie screen. Julie’s eyes were puffy and her face pale. Titan was on the ground beside her, doing push-ups in a sleeveless shirt and backward baseball cap. Titan put the other Betas’ paces to shame. If for no other reason, Alex hated the morning runs because Titan so clearly excelled at them.
“All right, eyesores,” Barrage growled at the Betas. “Is everyone stretched?”
“Yes,” they groaned in unison.
“Then move out, you pathetic excuse for a team. Show me some hustle.”
The Betas began to jog. Barrage followed a few yards behind, barely working up a sweat as the laps ticked away. When Julie began to slow down, he waved a hand and sent a crackling red orb no larger than a dime flying at her heels. It exploded on the ground a foot behind her with a pop, spitting bits of gravel and ash up into the air. Julie yelped and picked up the pace. Aside from Titan, all the Betas, at one time or another, had been forced to go straight from their morning runs to the infirmary on the first floor, where a Uniband doctor treated their burns and scrapes.
After their workout, the Betas headed down to the m
iddle level to shower and change before breakfast. Everyone was eager to continue discussing the impending attack on Justice Tower.
“I’ve been thinking about it,” Titan said, “and if we split up the city between us, I call the stadium district.”
“Why would we want to split it up?” Julie asked. “That makes no sense.”
“To make it easier to manage,” Titan said. “It’s a lot of people, and it’ll be easier to keep them under control if we section them off.”
“It’ll be fine,” Julie insisted. “It’ll be like having a couple million Unibands running around.”
“He has a point,” Mallory chimed in. “I don’t know that they’d be quite that loyal at the start. They seem to be pretty brainwashed by the Rangers of Justice.”
“They’ll come around fast,” Alex said. “We’ll empower the people. Once they realize what an honor it is to be our subjects, they’ll forget all about the Rangers. The smart people will realize that Lone Star was nothing but a hack and devote themselves to us.”
“Yeah. Who wouldn’t want to be ruled by Cloak?” Titan asked. “And if they don’t join us, they’ll fear us, which is basically the same thing.”
“Exactly,” Alex said, a rare moment where he agreed wholeheartedly with Titan. “The people of Sterling City will be our army of subjects. They’ll help us expand.”
“Wait,” Mallory said. “So are they subjects or are they a part of Cloak?”
“If they’re going to be Cloak members, they’ve got a lot to learn,” Alex said, mulling this over as the team stepped out of the elevator and onto the middle level. “We’ll have to set up training camps or something. We’ll give out free uniforms. People will love it.”
“Just trust the council,” Julie said. “They’ll figure it out.”
The Cloak Society Page 5
