Titan Song

by Leonard Petracci

  “She sings,” Roland said. “She’s a Silver Tongue. Same, as I’m sure you are aware, as your old headmistress.”

  “You’re telling me there’s another one of her running around the city?” blurted Lucio, his eyebrows shooting up so fast, the momentum almost carried them off his face. “Just perfect. They’ll have Siri 2.0 in a matter of days!”

  “As I said, she’s not powerful. When it comes to Silver Tongues, Siri was something of an exception that escaped our notice. Certainly on the high end of the spectrum,” said Roland, the lines in his face deepening with Lucio’s outburst. “This girl is nowhere close, and far as we can tell, she’s innocent. Silver Tongues aren’t very common, and you can bet after we found out about Siri, we checked our records. But she is the strongest in the city, and so far as we can tell, the only in the city. Even so, the worst her singing would sound like is a convincing argument rather than a command.”

  “So if she’s innocent and harmless, why the sudden concern? I don’t see the point.” I eyed Roland’s empty coffee, and though I wouldn’t enjoy the taste, I coveted that caffeine as we pried the story out of him. I could sense he was holding back information.

  “It’s confidential, so don’t you go spilling it,” stated Roland, and Lucio rolled his eyes.

  “I’d say we’ve kept our secrets pretty well, thank you,” he said as Slugger shot out a comment.

  “Gotta have friends to spill secrets, eh? Don’t worry. In that case, we’re safe.”

  “Like they said, who would we tell?” I added, and Roland drummed his fingertips on the table, crushed his cup of coffee in one oversized fist, then continued.

  “Over the past two months, there have been a series of disappearances. Not just here, but globally—we’ve received reports of missing Silver Tongues from departments in cities as far as Hong Kong. Over fifty have occurred in the past few months, and those are just the ones we know about. Gone without a trace, without a ransom note, without a word goodbye. No one strong enough to truly raise eyebrows, but the numbers speak for themselves.

  “Of course, there’s other explanations, but considering we’ve imprisoned the strongest Silver Tongue we’ve ever come across, it seems too much like a coincidence for my liking. Call it a hunch, but it fits. We think they’re trying to replace her—so far as we can tell, they can’t augment power strength, so we don’t know why they’re bothering to catch the weaker ones. Maybe they’re hoping to find one that’s stronger than they seem and to make them into future teachers. Or maybe they’re trying to wipe out the competition so other competing organizations don’t get any ideas. In that case, maybe they are killing them, and we just don’t know it yet.

  “But what’s happening is no accident. A single variety of power users doesn’t just start going missing overnight. It’s too convenient.”

  “You know what, you’re right, it doesn’t seem like a coincidence,” I said, steepling my hands. “But why us? This sounds like a job for the police, doesn’t it? I heard you’re a chief again. Why don’t you just start putting officers in front of her house—can’t afford the overtime so you have to start coming after kids?”

  Roland paused, preparing an answer, and spoke a single sentence. “One month ago, you stopped the past police chief from acquiring a superweapon from the Amazon.”

  “How do you know about the weapon?” I asked. “And what does that have to do with anything?”

  “Officers talk. They’re bigger gossips than you would imagine when there’s doughnuts in the breakroom. Lacit kept his plans close, but after losing our entire division of new recruits only to have half of them straggle back bruised and cut a few weeks later, secrets are bound to be spilled. But what’s important is this—I don’t know who to trust. I know there are people above me working for them, and I know there are people below me involved as well—but I don’t always know who. And again, officers talk. If we station two outside her place, everyone in the department will know when and where. We might as well install a beacon.”

  Chapter 7

  Arial laughed as I finished the story, her voice strangely modulated as it bounced between the static doors, with echoes of each shriek coming back as long as five seconds after she finished.

  “So,” she said, wiping a tear from her eye. “You know what that makes you? The same as my dad! Oh, how the sides have changed, and if he only knew that you stole his old job!”

  “I’m not like him,” I balked, my voice incredulous. “Your father tried to hunt me down!”

  “He worked for the police, as a contractor. Did you even ask Roland how much you would be making?”

  “Wait,” interjected Lucio, holding up a finger. “We can make cash off this? What’s with all the talk of volunteering?”

  “Have you seen her house? Like a damn small nation,” Slugger said, and cursed under his breath. “SC, lad, we’re going to have to come back with some real negotiations here. If I’m selling out, it sure as hell won’t be for cents.”

  “Whatever purse they give us, you can make it heavy,” I answered. “Besides, stopping the kidnapping is the right thing to do. And there’s a good chance it will help us find out more about who we’re up against.”

  “Oi, but that doesn’t mean we do it for free! Roland sure as hell isn’t. Even firefighters get paid,” said Slugger.

  “I think they have a point, SC,” said Arial, stepping in. “You’ve already done more for them than any of their officers, whether they knew it or not. That’s likely the only reason Roland hasn’t arrested you already. Besides, it might make a bit of sense for you to make some more friends with a few of them. If you’re caught in a bind, they can pull a few strings. I know they have for my father.”

  I bit my tongue, my thoughts still reeling at the comparison to Arial’s father. But despite my disgust at the idea, I conceded.

  “Fine,” I snapped. “But don’t forget why we’re doing this. We’re not mercenaries. We’re not at their call. We’re doing this because we choose to, and nothing more. I grew up poor—we didn’t have much—and I don’t want to let money start dictating our decisions.”

  “SC, you may not have had much then, but you have even less now,” said Arial, wrinkling her nose and looking around the underground tunnel. “This place is a sewer. Even if you stay here, you could at least liven it up. Buy some scented candles, for God’s sake. Besides, money in the right hands can solve a lot of problems. Turn up your nose if you want, but bribes work.”

  “Alright, I know I’m outnumbered,” I said. “Now let’s hurry up or we’ll be late. Slugger, you good to go first?”

  “Aye,” he answered and stepped up to the doorway that now peeked out into the Amazon. I concentrated, adjusting the gravitational levels between the two doors, bending space itself so he could pass through, the feeling similar to water locks. Then Lucio joined, and Arial, until I was left alone in the tunnel.

  “Sewer,” I muttered, looking around and frowning. “It’s not that bad.”

  Then I lifted myself through the doorway and into the moonlight beyond.

  I stumbled as I landed on solid ground, the gravitational fields not completely matching—lifting the other three in took considerable effort, and by the time I reached myself, my accuracy had started lacking. Recovering, I turned to see the shadows of the others, and smiled as I felt the fresh breeze of air coursing over my face and the familiar sounds of the jungle floating up from below. Then I felt something wet against the back of my leg and I froze, chills running up my spine as the feeling spread up my arm to the elbow, accompanied by a low growl and fur.

  “Hell!” I shouted, instinctively jumping into the air and releasing the gravitational field. Around me, blades of grass spiraled upwards from the wave, pebbles flew like ping-pong balls, and Lucio stumbled to his knees. Behind, I heard a thump as something hit the ground—something heavy, accompanied by the scrabbling of claws on rock and a snarl.

  “Hey!” shouted a voice. “She was just trying to say
hi!”

  I turned to see Ennia standing over Lilac, the giant tiger’s face in her hands as it rose back to a standing position, the orange eyes lingering knowingly on me as my heart rate started to slow. Ennia scowled, the tiger picking up on her body language as its hackles rose, and I threw up my hands in protest.

  “Relax!” I said but held my ground. “Maybe in the future, a tiger warning might be a good idea? What’s she doing here anyway? What’re you doing here?”

  “It’s a cliff on all sides. Not sure how you expected Darian and Lola to scale this thing, unless they brought some Vibrants along to make a vine stepladder. Speaking of which, neither of them could come this time. But I brought Lilac along to get me up here!” The tiger unfurled its wings, shaking them out like a giant orange bat and flapping them once to hit me with a gust of wind. Ennia was a Blender, which meant the tiger was more than her pet —it was her creation. Blenders were born with the unique ability to combine essences, whether that meant making a new variety of fruit, a composite material, or an unheard of species of animal.

  “And why can’t they come?” I asked, drawing in a breath as my gaze turned to the jungle, where they were hidden a few hundred miles in.

  “Because Lola is still reinforcing her queenship, plus building a routine with her sister,” said Ennia. “That type of career doesn’t come with many vacation days, you know, and it’s not proper etiquette to just leave for a day a few months into the job. Besides, Darian is still in recovery, and their doctors are refusing to let him travel. Don’t worry, he’s doing better—but it’s like tearing a muscle. He’s under strict orders to use no powers. However, they both instructed me to tell you ‘Hi’.”

  “And we say hi back!” said Lucio, jumping forwards and scrunching Lilac’s face between his hands, the tiger licking his entire cheek in one motion. “And look, she remembers me! And the fish—” He paused, remembering Ennia’s strict rule that the tiger remain a vegetarian. “Fish-shaped carrots! Delicious carrots, just love whittling them when I’m bored.”

  “And we appreciate the message,” Arial said, coming over to take my arm. “Though I was hoping to ask Lola for some of her coffee. Nothing tastes the same after trying it. Do you think you could relay that on for last time?”

  “Afraid I can’t do that,” said Ennia, crossing her arms. “Won’t be seeing them for quite a while. You’ll probably be there when I see them next.”

  “And why is that?” I asked. “You’re practically next door to them.”

  “Oh, when I’m around at university, I’ll drop in for dinner pretty often. But I’m not going back. To finish my degree, I need some work experience. An unpaid internship, if you will. And who better to work with than those standing up against the people who hurt Lilac?”

  “You want to work for us?” I asked, laughing. “What makes you think we’re hiring?”

  “You seem like the type to get into trouble. I thought you’d have an assignment sooner rather than later,” she shot back. “Besides, you had the door open when you were talking about the Silver Tongues. Sounds like the perfect opportunity. You’ll be needing me.”

  “Oi, we’ve been handlin ourselves just fine without freeloaders,” Slugger said. “I don’t think we need anything.”

  “Freeloader?” Ennia practically shouted back, then resumed composure. “Freeloader? I provided you transportation last time, in case you have forgotten. And you will need me, because if you’re going after the same people, then they’ve been meddling with powers. We both know that Telekenetic’s abilities weren’t all natural, that he’d undergone Fractonis Essentia. That’s a change of essence, and who knows more about that than me?”

  Chapter 8

  “The opportunities that you kids have compared to when I was young,” said my mother, shaking her head. “I don’t know what I would have done if I had been born twenty-five years later.”

  “Didn’t you get to fly to space?” Lucio asked. “I’d be ready to trade that out for some stupid reading camp!”

  We sat around the dinner table, with Ennia across from my mother, her clean white robes and albinism making her stand out against the dank subway like a torch. My mother raised an eyebrow when we introduced her, but with Ennia’s insistence that was her university’s uniform, she’d quickly conceded. Arial had even pinned a badge to the robes, with a crest and university name written in such elegant cursive that it was practically unreadable. And perhaps it was the way Ennia sat, or the proper manner that she spoke, or simply her attire—but her appearance had the effect of aging her several years. Which was fortunate, for we were relying heavily on that appearance to maintain the illusion.

  “I won’t lie,” Ennia had said when we initially discussed the plan, as she had folded her arms across her chest.

  “Yah, well, SC’s mother isn’t about to let her family become police fodder, so it’s not an option, lass,” Slugger had responded, scraping at his teeth with a toothpick. “Requirement number one for the intern—Lie. It’s in the job description.”

  “It’s not a matter of choice,” clarified Ennia. “To lie is to betray an essence. I can bend and essence, or stretch it—but lying is beyond my ability.”

  “Oh come on,” said Lucio, rolling his eyes. “You’re practically a walking animal testing lab, and now you’re going to let a little morality get in your way?”

  “We need this, Ennia,” I said. “We need a story, or else there’s no way we’ll be able to leave here.”

  “I don’t think you understand,” said Ennia, sticking out her chin, her eyes wondering as she searched for words. “So I shall attempt to explain. My entire power is predicated upon these essences, and as a Blender, it’s far more academic and theory focused than something as… primitive… as throwing fire. Should I lie, that destroys the foundation for my power.”

  “You’re saying you would lose your power if you lied?” Arial asked, her interest piqued. “I’ve heard about similar things to that before.”

  “Not so much lose; it’s better termed as break,” Ennia said. “Imagine a piano out of tune. What was once music is now discord. Something like Lilac would turn into a monstrosity. And I refuse to let that happen.”

  “Fine,” I said, thinking. “You might not be able to lie, but we can—so just make sure you don’t blow our cover and we’ll be fine.”

  “That’s a possibility,” Ennia had replied. “Try to keep me out of the line of direct questions, and I’ll manage.”

  Back at the dinner table, my mother folded her hands and spoke to Ennia alone, her eyes like a hawk.

  “So, Ennia, since you’re in University, what are you studying and what brings you here?” she asked.

  “I study the aural diffusion of isomorphic essences,” responded Ennia, then clarified as my mother’s face pulled a blank. “Basically, all about composites.”

  “Composites? So like mixing materials?” she asked, squinting.

  “Similar to that!” Ennia answered with a smile. “But what brings me here is an internship.”

  “Internships,” I corrected. “Ennia’s here for an outreach program, which is what the reading camp is about. Basically, they want to bring in high school students for college jobs, so that they can get into university easier. They’ll be judging those at camp to see who qualifies.”

  “My university is very difficult to get into,” said Ennia, choosing her words carefully. “So any such program would be of benefit to potential students.”

  “And how exactly did you find my son?” asked my mother. “Why consider him or this program. Or them in general?” Her gaze rested on Lucio for an instant too long, and he squirmed.

  “Hey!” he shouted as Slugger snorted. “I have street smarts! Plenty of them!”

  “I’d hate to make anyone uncomfortable by excluding their friends,” said Ennia. “And it is my personal belief that pursuers of knowledge are naturally drawn together. A teacher of mine introduced me to SC.”

  “They pull the rec
ords from the library and can see what you’re reading about as well as your age,” I said, bolstering Ennia’s comments. “So they can tell who is above their age level.”

  “SC and I are interested in similar things, which naturally makes an internship between us a strong fit,” continued Ennia. “But I should warn you—due to the availability of work and that the program is significantly unstructured, my agenda over the next few weeks is not well defined. We might have short notice about when and where the next assignment will take place.”

  “And if SC decides to go to another university, would this help him there too?” my mother prodded.

  “It’s my belief that all knowledge and experience is transferable, and can be blended to suit other needs,” said Ennia, clasping her hands together with a nod. “No matter his final choice, I’m sure that the value of the internship would not be reduced.”

  Chapter 9

  “What makes you think they’re coming here next?” I asked, my hands up against the cold back of Roland’s headrest, the metal grating separating the front and back seats. “They could be going anywhere. Maybe there’s someone on the other side of the country that’s a better option.”

  We waited in an undercover car, the smell of melted cheese and fresh dough wafting through the air conditioner, delivery cars zipping in and out of the strip mall ahead of us. A Chinese restaurant operated at the far end, separated from us by dozens of parking slips with paint so faded that they formed a broken maze crossed by streaks of repaired asphalt. A cleaners occupied the middle, serving as a buffer to the restaurant with a flashing neon OPEN sign, a glass window spanning the entire facade. Easy as Bake, the pizzeria was called, and for a weeknight, it was slammed.

  “The heart of our problem is we know they’re coming here soon,” grumbled Roland, his eyes on the horde of customers moving in and out of the pizzeria. “Siri’s company has taken so many that they’re running out of options. Far as we know, there’s only a handful left. Nearest one besides her is actually in Italy, and daughter of a senator there, so she should have adequate protection.”