Five hundred miles through enemy territory. What could possibly go wrong?
Kate knew the answer to the question even as she asked it of herself: Every damn thing.
TWENTY-TWO
We’re in a standoff; I can kill her with my particle beam and she thinks she can kill me with... well whatever she has hidden under her robe. Unless it’s a plasma rifle, she’s probably wrong. However, I need to find the spear and she seems to know where it is. I make the first move and stand down, lowering my arms and letting the power wind down.
“You have chosen wisely,” she says with a nod. I have to bite my tongue because I want to make some remark about shoving my fist so far down her throat I could tell what she had for breakfast... but I only think it.
“Listen, Nemesis, I’m here for the spear. If you know where it is, great. If you’d like to, we can compare notes on the current state of the Olympians after I have the spear. Agreed?”
She nods, her body relaxing as she stands up straight. It’s almost funny because she’s short. Now, I’m not tall, even in the armor, but 5’2... I cock my head, recalling reading something about how short the Greeks and Romans were. Maybe she’s the real deal, but then, how did she survive all these years?
“The spear is this way. The Papacy has kept it under lock and key for seven hundred years. They don’t even know what it truly is.” She turns and walks down the tracks. “Follow me,” she says.
I do. My armored feet bang on the tracks occasionally—the iron rails don’t stick out in the dark, making my night vision unable to discern them from the ground. She walks through the dark like she was born in a cave.
“I thought it was a spear crafted by Hephaestus for Achilles?”
You finally read the Iliad?
“Yes, Epic. I read a book that wasn’t science related... or possibly I just Googled the story and read the synopsis... what? Don’t judge me, I’m a busy woman.”
“You are partly correct, mortal. Hephaestus did craft it, but not for Achilles. He made it for me; it’s the Spear of Justice. Forged to strike the heart of men whose hubris has exceeded their wisdom.”
If she’s telling the truth, that explains why she wants it… though she wants it for herself. Maybe she’s the new Protector then! Oh, this is perfect. We can kill two birds with one legendary item. I don’t know if there are rules about female protectors, but I don’t see why. Especially if the spear was originally hers.
“This way,” she says turning to the right and hopping on the ledge like a house cat. I hit the Emdrive for an assisted leap, sending me well over the lip to land in a crouch in front of her.
Showing off?
“Something about her rubs me the wrong way. If I can remind her she isn’t ‘all-powerful’ then maybe she’ll be a bit nicer to us.”
And by nicer you mean, ‘not try to kill us?’
“You got it in one,” I say.
The archway she leads us to is different from the others; intricate carvings cover the inside of the arch. They don’t look Christian though. I turn my lights back on, low this time, and examine them.
They appear to predate Roman occupation of Italy.
“Yeah they do,” I say.
Nemesis stands next to me wearing a superior expression. “Do you like? I spent many years on these catacombs. If I had any idea the Papacy would come later and seize my work I wouldn’t have bothered,” she says with a frown.
“You carved these? They’re beautiful,” I say with a genuine smile.
“I’m a god; everything I do is beautiful,” she says, gazing at my faceplate. I know all she can see is her own reflection, but I still hide my reaction. It was like she had set me up for that line.
“Yeah, listen, I know you’re not a god. So please, sell that story somewhere else. You come from another dimension and the differences between here and there is what gives you power, so please, don’t try to con me with your hand wavy mysticism.” I can’t help the sneer in my voice. I really am tired of people claiming to be gods.
One delicate eyebrow raises as she looks up at me. “Interesting. You are going to have to tell me how a mortal has come by such knowledge.”
Dang. I said too much didn’t I?
“Maybe later. Spear first.”
She nods and holds one lithe arm out to point at a large metal door. “I built this cave as my own personal retreat. After my brothers and sisters left I wandered the Earth for a time. When I returned for my things, they had installed this monstrosity of a door. At my current level of power... I am unable to open it. As far as I know, no one alive even has the key to turn the lock. Not that the fools above have any intention of ever doing so.”
I nod as I examine the door. It’s massive; ten feet wide and twelve tall. I put one hand on the exterior surface and have Epic run a metallurgic scan.
97% iron. This is a wrought iron door approximately thirty-six inches thick. I am unsure how they were capable of moving a door that weighs eighty-seven tons into position, especially considering we are underground. Yet, here it is.
“Here it is, indeed,” I say. “Give me full light, Epic.” Light instantly banishes the dark, lights burn to life around my helmet giving me enough illumination to see minute details. I kneel down and run a hand over the iron. The craftsmanship is gorgeous, and Epic is right; it’s much heavier than I can lift. Heck, even powered up, Luke would have a hard time opening this thing.
“Are you going to caress it like a lover, or open it?” Nemesis asks.
I clench my jaw for a moment, looking behind me as best I can while wearing the armor. “I forget, which one of us has a degree in metallurgy?”
Technically, neither of you do.
“Your grasp of language is as ugly as your face. Just open the door, mortal, before we are discovered,” she says.
“Did you just call me ugly?” I know I’m no Kate, but ugly? No.
How is this woman the person in charge of punishing hubris? “Regardless,” I say, letting the insult go. “I know what I’m doing, I built this suit I’m wearing because I know how metal works. This is a wrought iron door and it weighs more than some warships. I can’t just rip it off the hinges and toss it aside. If it falls on us there won’t be enough left to scrape up with a spatula. So zip your lips and let me think.”
She makes a tsk sound as she spins on her heels, then walks back to the ledge overlooking the tracks and taps her foot impatiently.
“What a bi—”
Amelia, I have an idea.
“I’m all eyeballs,” I say. Epic displays a wire-frame of the vault door, with specific hard points highlighted. His plan becomes obvious after a second.
“You want me to drop it? Cut the hinges then pull the door forward? Will that work? It’s pretty solidly wedged in, not to mention the mild expansion that’s probably occurred since it was installed.”
Agreed. However, once the hinges are cut, my suggestion is to run the particle beam over the carved rock frame holding it in place. Once that has destabilized, it should come free relatively easily.
“Okay, princess,” I say in my best Han Solo, “Let’s give this a shot. Stand back, this is going to be tricky.”
I stand up, walking backward until I’m fourteen feet away from the door.
“I’m not a princess; despite what you think, I am a goddess,” she says in a huff.
The urge to punch her in her perfect face is all but irresistible. But somehow, I manage.
I commend you on your restraint, Amelia. I do not understand the effect she has on you, but you are showing a remarkable level of self-control.
“Thank you, Epic. Now, spin up the particle beam and highlight the cutting path,” I say.
He does. A yellow line superimposes on my HUD, drawing a near circle around the outside of the vault, then a second line, in green, shows me where he suspects the hinges are.
I reach out with my arm, hand in a fist, curled down, and fire. The beam splits the air, striking the rock in a clo
ud of exploding dust. Thankfully, I don’t have to rely on my eyes, I just follow the path. More dust fills the air to the point Epic switches the suit over to internal air.
One hour of atmo available.
Rocks ping off the suit as the hyper-accelerated silicate particles cut through the molecular bonds, causing an instant expansion in the form of an explosion.
“Do you think you could be louder?” Nemesis asks with her hands over her ears. I bite back a scathing remark about her supposed god-hood and just focus on my work.
I make the last cut on the rock and kill the beam. It needs time to cool off before I can continue. The top of my wrist is practically glowing red from heat buildup.
“How long, Epic?”
Five minutes.
I take that time to examine my work. The rock is a mess—once the hinges go this should be a cake walk.
“Are you almost done? Someone was bound to hear that, and guards will be here soon,” she says.
I slap my faceplate and growl inside. “Woman, will you shut your pie-hole. If you want to do this without me, by all means, please do.
No? Then shut it. Epic, muffle all external noise, I can’t take another word from her.”
Done. Amelia, I am concerned she is having an adverse effect on you. Not unlike Kate, but in reverse.
“Are you saying she’s some kind of empath?”
Possibly, though I am detecting no pheromones or the like.
“Keep an eye on it... okay the suit is cooled off enough. Let’s fire it up.”
The blue beam reaches out again, this time I go a little slower. Essentially, I have to turn the iron to slag in order to cut through the hinges.
Amelia. There are armed men approaching. While their weapons are incapable of hurting you, they may injure Nemesis.
“Almost there,” I say.
You may want to hurry.
“Can we risk more power to the particle beam?” I glance at the temperature; it’s sitting at twenty-eight hundred degrees, which is close to the two-thousand nine-hundred and ninety degree cut-off.
No. Epic answers.
Something pings off my suit from behind, but I ignore it. I shut down the particle beam, admiring my handiwork for a second. The vault door glows red in the dim light. The right hand side is done; a line slices cleanly down it like I used a lightsaber to cut it. That just leaves two hinges—
Another ping on my suit.
“Epic, is someone shooting at me?”
I turn around and there are six men with guns—five revolvers and one large bore rifle—all pointed at me. A seventh man holds Nemesis around her neck, pressing a snub-nosed revolver against her temple. I clench my jaw in frustration. Clearly she could stop them, but she doesn’t. What game is she playing?
They’re saying something I can’t hear, then I remember I shut down the sound. “External speakers on. Translate please?” I ask Epic.
“Take your armor off and put your hands up,” the one holding Nemesis orders.
“Uh, no.” I hold my hands up, palms out, and light all of them up with an IP cannon blast at wide angle. The ionic energy knocks them all backward into twitching heaps. Nemesis falls with them, either from the impact of the cannon or from the guard dragging her down.
I turn around and fire up the particle beam to finish what I started. A few seconds later the final cuts are done, and I step back a little more, just in case.
It doesn’t fall.
“Epic?”
It is likely wedged; you will need to apply force.
“Right.” I run forward, kicking in the Emdrive, and slam into the side of the vault door with a clang.
That does it. I leap back out of the way. The door moves slowly at first, then it spins on its axis like a penny before slamming into the ground. I step by into the vault after it settles on the ground. Epic dampens the noise for me, otherwise I’d be deaf.
I don’t know what I expected, but a mostly empty vault wasn’t it. In the center of the room is a pedestal holding a wooden fragment with a tiny piece of iron on it. The whole thing isn’t more than six inches long. It’s the only thing in the entire space.
“That’s no spear, it’s like a sharp rock...” I say to Epic.
“What have they done to it?” Nemesis asks as she pushes past me.
I study the vault, looking for anything else; surely they wouldn’t put just this one relic behind that giant door.
“What were they afraid of?” I ask aloud.
Nemesis looks at me then the spear. “They were afraid of me,” she says as she reaches for the legendary relic.
Oh boy.
TWENTY-THREE
BOULDER
Johan dropped her outside the federal building a few seconds later. What she had to do was the last thing she wanted to do—walk right in and break her friends out. She was fairly confident she could, but even if she were right, at the very least she would never be allowed to stay in the country after this.
She sighed, looking at the young man in the Prius as he drove away. He was very interesting to her. Who knew, maybe Amelia could fly him down to Buenos Aires for a date?
If you live, that is.
Tia cracked her neck several times, flexing her hands and stretching her shoulders. She’d already changed mass more times in the last twenty-four hours than she ever had before, and it wore on her.
It was time to dig deep.
With a deep breath and a prayer to God for help, she walked forward. With each step, her mass increased.
The Federal building was fairly typical six story building. She started across the deserted street at an even pace, headed for the stairs that led up to the front door. She had no idea where her friends were but she could figure that out as she went. Most of these kinds of buildings were similar in design; the holding cells and interrogation rooms tended to be on the second and third floor.
Tia paused as she took the first step. She couldn’t mass up too much; if she took it too far, she’d never be able to walk to the second floor.
She decided the mass of a small car would do. The faucet inside her opened a little more as she ascended the stairs. By the time she was at the top, she weighed five hundred pounds per cubic foot— four-thousand in total. Her density was twice that of Tungsten.
She reached the top of the stairs and stood before the closed wooden doors. It was night time and while there were lights on in the upper windows, the Federal building was closed to civilians.
She glanced left and right one more time, giving herself a second to shore up her courage. There was no question she had to do this, but she knew that from this moment on, her life would never be the same.
Worst case scenario, you end up in a prison for the rest of your life. Mama would love that… It would give me a lot of time to read...
She smiled, thinking of the bright side. It was her nature to be positive. She took a deep breath, held her hand up, and knocked.
Bombs exploded with less force. The large wooden door, at least four inches thick, blasted right off its hinges, hurtling to crash against the far wall and embed itself in the concrete.
Alarms immediately sprang to life and emergency lighting kicked in bathing the lobby in red. She ignored the elevators, making her way to the stairwell on the immediate right of the lobby.
“Freeze,” a police officer yelled at her. She ignored him. He fired his Tazer at her; the leads bounced against her super dense skin and fell uselessly to the ground.
“We have a Code Ultra, I say again, Code Ultra.”
Tia had no idea what that meant, but she could guess. “Listen,” she said to the man as she continued her march to the stairs, slowed only by her own weight. “I’m not here to hurt anyone. My friends, the Protectors, are in serious danger. Please don’t try to stop me.” She knew her words would fall on deaf ears—if she were guarding the place, she wouldn’t listen. However, she needed to say them, if for nothing else than her own conscience.
She reached th
e stairwell door in time to hear the click of magnetic locks. While the door was stronger than the wooden one she’d already knocked down, it wasn’t that much stronger. She placed her hands on either side of the door frame with her finger tips flat against the metal and pushed. Her fingers went through the frame like it was made of sand, once they were embedded knuckle deep, she scrunched her fists and pulled. The entire frame screeched as she tore it free and tossed it carefully to one side, making sure she didn’t hit the officer who was busy hitting her from behind with a stun baton.
“Watch the debris, it’s sharp,” she said as she walked through the hole. He didn’t follow her; she guessed he realized the futility of trying to stop her. “Okay, here goes nothing. Milton?”
“Here, Tia,” he said.
“Can you tap into their network from in here and find out where they are keeping everyone?”
“Now that you are inside the physical building I can access their wireless network via your phone. Make your way to the third floor,” he replied without delay.
Tia smiled—it was nice to have a team. She would miss it when they threw her in a dark hole for the rest of her life.
She took each stair carefully. Despite the concrete material and reinforcements to survive bombs and other acts of terrorism, Tia didn’t want to risk breaking them or falling through. The tile cracked as she marched to the third floor. Her brow was covered in sweat from the exertion. She didn’t normally hold her mass for extended periods of time like this and it taxed her. She was determined though. Nothing would stop her from saving her friends—from saving Tessa.
By the time she reached the third floor, metal plates had descended over the stairwell doors, sealing them off from the stairwell. It was a wise move.
She stopped for a moment to examine the barrier. It was solid, for sure, reinforced, and designed to withstand a lot.
She added another twenty percent to her mass before reaching back and slamming her fist into the wall.
The clang of her hand against the metal was deafening. The resulting dent was an inch deep and looked like her fist. She hauled back and hit it again. Then a third time. The fourth time, the clang of mass against metal deafened her to the point she couldn’t hear.
Ancient Arsenal (Full Metal Superhero Book 7) Page 11
