Brock, who stood behind Louise, dropped to his knees. Then another female fundamentalist rapper joined him. She bowed her head with reverence, and even closed her eyes.
Another person followed their examples, then another—then a dozen more. It was like when people start a standing ovation, and some of the crowd follows just out of sheer inability not to follow. Before long, about half of the crowd knelt. Then three-fourths.
Notably, not any of the members of the Council.
But Marti did. She dropped to her knees so fast that the sound of them hitting the mat made me flinch. Then, I cringed when she grabbed my wrist and twisted my arm, pulling me to the floor. I glared at her. She didn’t have to be so brutal every time she touched me.
“It seems,” Dad said, “that the people have spoken.”
Wanda Lovejoy looked at him with open contempt. “We’ll see if this is real—if you’ll really be our king, and if the people will support you. How you punish your son will say a great deal about the type of king you will be.”
Billy Blake said, “And if your reign will last more than a minute.”
“I assure you,” Dad said, “that it will.” He raised his eyebrows. “I’m here to stay, now.”
Mr. Makeup’s gaze turned to me, his eyes narrow and vicious. “Then punish him. Right now.”
Dad’s gaze turned to me. He pursed is lips and narrowed his eyes, as if deciding exactly what punishment to mete. I wanted to shrink away into nothingness, to disappear from that disappointed stare.
I’d disobeyed him and Mom, and now I understood better why they wouldn’t let me enjoy life the way I wanted—it was a lot more involved than I’d thought it would be.
I know. Crazy, right?
A decision passed through Dad’s eyes, and he stepped toward me. He looked back at the Council.
“Am I your king?” His gaze swept over the crowd, and his voice lifted as if to fill the immensity of the room. “Am I your king?”
The rest of the people in the crowd fell to their knees.
He looked at the Bamboozlers. “I will only punish my son if everyone accepts me as their king.”
Mr. Makeup knelt first. Then Wanda Lovejoy knelt. For the first time, I saw that she had a little bald spot right on the top of her head. Billy Blake knelt last of all, though he kept his chin high.
“So be it,” Dad said, and turned to me, his face solemn. “I must punish you.”
Chapter 47: Punishment for our crimes
Whatever he came up with, I knew it wouldn’t be enough. Boy, was I wrong.
-Wanda Lovejoy
My heart pounded so hard I almost didn’t hear Dad pass his judgment. His voice held no leniency, no mercy of a father. Only the careful neutrality of a just ruler.
“You are hereby banished from Intersoc until such a time as you make amends to the society.” He tilted his head to one side. “Both of you. Effective immediately.”
It was better than being skinned alive. I guess.
The crowed murmured in surprise. I couldn’t tell if they thought it was severe enough. I sure did. Did it mean I would return to my life of seclusion? Would Mom and Dad wipe my mind again?
I started to object, but Marti grabbed my hand and dug her fingernails into its back. I yelped and fell silent.
Dad moved so fast it made me jump. He lifted one arm, so the red vials dangled down, and yanked one of them free of its cord. With one twist he unscrewed the lid and poured the red ooze into his hands. In a matter of seconds he drew a zip-door with a spike at each corner. He stood on the opposite side of the tinkling emblem, a lighter in hand, staring at me.
“When I light this, the two of you go through it. And your punishment begins.”
For all I knew, he was banishing me to Antarctica. Or to the deserts of Africa. Or—worst of all—to my bedroom at home.
“Yes, your majesty,” Marti said, lowering her gaze. She tightened her grip on my hand, and dug her nails in. She looked at me and jerked her head at Dad.
“Uh, yes,” I said, bowing my head. “Dad. Uh, your uh, majesty.”
His eyebrows raised just a hint—a far more reproachful stare than I had ever gotten from him, far more effective than anything he and Mom had ever said.
I felt small. Petty. The anger and recent jeers of the people around me felt justified. Shame burned in my face, and my eyes felt full. I wanted to get out of there as fast as I could.
“One question,” Marti said, with her eyes still down. “Can I go get my purse?”
She pointed toward the corner of the room a hundred feet off, where her traps had gone un-used.
Dad shook his head. “I’ll make sure you get it. Later.”
She looked pained. “But—”
“You’ll get it later.”
She clamped her mouth shut.
He lit the sparkling brink, moving his lighter in a fast circle to the point of each spike. As the flames finished spreading around the emblem, he stood and again gave me that solemn look. Disappointment danced like fire in his vision. I wanted to hide. He gave his head the barest shake as the white sheet of humming light filled the emblem’s space. My heart felt weak. My eyes stung.
I leaped into the agony of zipping, pulling Marti with me.
On the other side, we stumbled onto hard tile. I let go of her hand to catch myself, so my face didn’t hit the floor. She managed to only fall to one knee.
I knelt there on all fours, panting, blinking, hoping Marti couldn’t tell how shook up I was.
We’d zipped to a large room with metal walls and a ceiling of bright fluorescent lights that shone like the sun. The tiles I knelt on had a brown color, but the ones behind me had a black-and-white checkered pattern. People ran in a hundred directions all around us, shouting and dodging past each other.
“Crap!” Marti said.
“What?” I said. I didn’t look at her. I didn’t want her to see the shame in my face. “Where are we?”
“Your dad sent us to the worst place possible.”
I stood, preparing myself for one of the people in the crowd to notice us and do something. But none of them did. Every last one of them wore a dark suit.
“What? Where are we?”
Marti grabbed my arm and moved me three steps forward, not quite into the crisscrossing traffic, but out of the spot we’d zipped into.
“SOaP.”
That didn’t seem so bad, but Agent Maynerd had placed Marti on probation just a few hours before. What would they do when they found out her recent activity?
“Richie!” a woman’s voice called through the crowd.
I scanned the mob of people. It seemed to have already thinned just a little.
“Richie!” the voice repeated. It came from my left.
Mom pushed her way through the people toward me.
I didn’t know whether to cringe or shout for joy. Only three hours before I’d purposefully ignored her, and zipped away from her presence. She probably didn’t have any idea where I’d gone.
How much did she know? What worry had I put her through?
She came to me, her arms wide—vials of brink dangling from the arms of her jacket—and hugged me. She held me tight, kissed my cheeks, and mussed my hair. Again, my eyes burned and my face felt hot. How could she embrace me like this when I’d deliberately defied her? I wanted to apologize, but words caught in my throat. How could I offer regrets for doing such a disrespectful thing?
“Mom,” I said. “There are people around. They’re watching.”
“I’m the only one watching,” Marti said. “And it’s amusing how red you’re turning right now. Hilarious, really.”
Mom laughed and hugged me tighter. I returned the embrace, hoping that maybe it would influence her to let me go sooner. It seemed to work, and she took a step back from me. My apology still caught in my throat.
“Where have you been?” she said. “The place has been going crazy for the last five minutes. What happened? They won’t tell me anything.�
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“That’s because you don’t have clearance.”
I began to panic at the voice and its long southern drawl. I’d heard that voice only five minutes before. It was Nick Savage. It had to be.
But no. The source stood half a dozen feet to my left. Not Nick Savage. His brother.
He gave me and Marti a long, serious look. “We know what you’ve been up to.”
Chapter 48: I can’t remember
I swear, it’s like I’m talking to a monkey sometimes.
-Linford B. Maynerd
Agent Maynerd came toward us, a mixture of concern and anger in his eyes. He stopped short of grabbing us as he looked us up and down.
“Are you okay?” he said.
“We’re fine,” Marti said.
“Physically,” I said. “Mentally, I’m a little jacked up.”
He narrowed his eyes at us. “Anyone hurt you?”
I could have told them about any number of instances when I might have gotten injured, or when Marti had hurt me—but decided against it.
“Nope,” Marti said. “No injuries.”
Agent Maynerd narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips, as if trying to decide if he believed us or not.
“And your dad?” he said. “Is he okay in that hornet’s nest?”
I shrugged. “He seemed fine.”
“They accepted him as king,” Marti said.
Mom swore under her breath. Agent Maynerd looked surprised and pleased in an angry way.
“About time,” he said.
He turned, and with Mom led us down the hallway in such a solemn silence I knew I’d be dead if the law allowed for the killing of minors. In thirty seconds, we stepped into the control room, with the rows of desks and computers, the wall of monitors, and the glass wall of conference rooms. People sat at most of the desks, focusing on monitors and talking intently into headsets. The entire wall of monitors was black, except for one screen in the center, which inexplicably played a Scooby Doo cartoon.
Mom walked ahead with Agent Maynerd, trying to get him to tell her what was going on. You would have thought he was mad at her, too, for how he glared and didn’t respond.
I tried to talk with Marti, but her sharp look shut me up. I expected Agent Maynerd to separate Marti and I, but he joined us in one of the conference rooms. We sat, Mom at the head, and Marti and I along the side. Agent Maynerd began to pace.
“Do you know what you’ve done, tonight?” he said. “Can you even begin to know?”
All kinds of smart ways to respond came to mind.
Marti nodded. “Where will he go to create the brink?”
Agent Maynerd shook his head. “We’ve deployed as widely as possible.” He turned to us and slammed his hands down on the glass table. His calm demeanor snapped. “You idiots!”
I jumped in surprise. Mom squeaked.
“You should have come to us. You should have told us you had a way to trap him!”
Marti lifted her hands, palms up, and started to talk.
But Agent Maynerd interrupted her. A humongous vein had popped out in his neck.
“Where is he going? Do you know anything about where he might go?”
Marti shook her head. “He said nothing to me about that.”
Agent Maynerd looked at me. “And you? Did you see or hear anything tonight that might tell us where he’s going?”
I shook my head, feeling disoriented and quite guilty.
“Think, you fool! Everything depends on finding him.”
I cast my mind back through the night, trying to remember every conversation I’d had with Nick. I couldn’t recall that he’d said anything that might indicate where he would blow up the emotion. He’d only ever said he wanted to let the world know about magic and destroy evil. But how? How did he want to do that?
I swallowed hard and looked at Agent Maynerd. “What plans does he have once he makes the brink?”
Agent Maynerd stopped his pacing and gave me a dark look. “We believe he and the Sunbeams plan to cause a massive earthquake in New York City.”
“New York is at risk to an earthquake?”
“Earthquakes don’t work like you’ve been taught,” Marti said. “Seismologists don’t know about Titans.”
“Titans?” I said.
“Spirits,” Mom said. “Creatures of the spirit world that reside in mountains, that give mountains their life.”
“Mountains are alive?” I said.
“Almost everything in the natural world is alive,” Mom said. “And most of those things have spirits. Just like you do.”
“Enough!” Agent Maynerd said. “If you can’t help us find out where he’s making the brink, you’re of no use to us.”
I struggled to find the right words. “What if you’re wrong? What if that’s not what Nick wants the brink for?”
Agent Maynerd shook his head. “You’re a gullible boy.”
“What if he wants the brink to defeat the Solar Flare.”
“He is the Solar Flare!” Agent Maynerd said.
“Richie,” Mom said, “why would you even think there’s any good in him?”
“Everything he’s said to me—”
“He’s lying to you,” Marti said.
Agent Maynerd shook his head. He had his hands on his hips. “He is the Solar Flare. Our intelligence confirms it.”
I thought their intelligence sucked, and wanted to tell him that. But what good would it do?
An expression of sorrow fell over Agent Maynerd’s face. He looked ready to collapse into one of the chairs.
“I cannot tell you,” he said, “how hard I’ve worked to save him. I’ve tried so many times.”
Of course he had. They were brothers. How could two brothers end up on such opposite teams?
He scrubbed his face with both hands. His shoulders sagged.
“I’ve talked with him so many times. I’ve tried intervening. I even got Mother involved. But it never works. I fear he’s gone too far, this time. If he carries through with his plan to detonate a nuke, there will be no possible redemption for him.”
“Nuke?” I said. “I thought he was going to cause an earthquake.”
Marti rolled her eyes. “Are you that dense? He needs brink powerful enough to control a titan. The only way he can get such powerful brink is to detonate your emotions with a nuke.”
Mom put a hand on Agent Maynerd’s shoulder, and made as if to say something comforting, but the door opened and Dad walked in. He’d shed his crown and cape, but not the jacket with brink hanging from the arms. And not his serious look. He strode over to Mom’s side, exchanging a glance with her, and placed a hand on her shoulder. He gave me that same unreadable glance.
He was the king. Was I the prince?
What the crap was going on?
“What’s the status?” he asked Agent Maynerd. He had Marti’s purse in his hand, and tossed it to her. Her face brightened as she caught it with a “thank you” and began to tear it open.
Agent Maynerd frowned and flipped a hand toward me. “Your son knows nothing. He’s useless.”
That made me feel great, but Marti came to my rescue.
“I don’t see you coming up with answers, Einstein.”
Agent Maynerd glared at her, but kept talking to Dad. “We’ve deployed as many agents as we can into the field, into as many locations as possible. But we’re spread thin.”
“What do you want us to do?” Dad said.
He gestured at himself and the rest of us. He didn’t seem like a king, anymore. I wanted to have a long chat with him about it all. Pieces were starting to fall into place in my head, but so were questions. So were apologies.
Agent Maynerd sighed and shook his head. “I guess I could deploy you to one of the less likely locations.”
“Can I talk with you alone?” Dad said. He jerked his head toward the door.
Agent Maynerd nodded. Mom followed them out of the room. As soon as the door shut behind them, Marti turned to me. But
I spoke before she could.
“My dad is a king?”
She blinked in surprise, as if that had been the last thing on her mind.
“That’s what I didn’t tell you earlier,” she said. “I figured it was your dad’s secret to tell.”
“Does that make me the prince?”
She raised her eyebrows at me. “Always worried about the glory for yourself, aren’t you?”
“What? No!”
“Then why is that the first question out of your mouth?”
“I’ve asked way more questions than that, tonight.”
“You’re not the prince. There is no prince. You could be the next king—if your dad chooses you for it. But it’s not automatic.”
Disappointment stabbed at me. The pang made me wonder if Marti was right. Was I just a glory hound?
“So,” I said, “I could be king if he chooses me as his successor?”
“Yes, but so could anyone else in Intersoc.” She shook her head, as if clearing it. “But that’s nothing compared to what’s going on. Lives are at stake. National security is at risk. You’re sure you don’t know anything?”
I stood up, frustrated. Why did everyone think I had answers? Why had I made such foolish decisions in the last eight hours?
“I would say if I knew anything. I’ve told everyone everything!”
I stormed around the table, toward the door, but the sight of my parents and Agent Maynerd arguing just outside the glass made me turn to the right. I strode along the glass wall, stopping about halfway down the length of the room.
Marti, with her purse back on her shoulder, stood from her chair.
“You’re the only person who’s talked with him recently. You’re sure he didn’t say something else to you?”
I turned to her, feeling suddenly tired, as if my night without sleep had finally caught up with me. Maybe Nick’s rejuvenation spell had started to wear off, and the weariness was returning to my body.
“No, I’ve been lying all this time, keeping it secret. He told me exactly where he was going.”
Her face brightened.
Van Bender and the Burning Emblems (The Van Bender Archives #1) Page 21
