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Titan Song

Page 6

by Leonard Petracci


  Chapter 15

  The sound of voices awoke me rather than an alarm the next morning, and my eyelids shot open as recognition floated down into my consciousness. One voice was normal, the chattering of my mother, though she typically had no one to talk to this early in the morning. But the other spurred me out of bed to tug on jeans and the first crumpled t-shirt I could find, then stumble barefoot on the cold concrete from my room, hopping on one foot as my toe stubbed on an uneven portion of ground.

  My mother held a spatula, scraping eggs off the bottom of a pan before stirring in salsa and cheese. Then she handed the plate to Arial with lighthearted words too far for me to hear. Arial took it with a smile to set on the table. Spotting me, she nearly dropped it as a hand rose to cover her mouth.

  “Your hair!” She laughed and twirled her fingers in a circle. “It looks like you’ve been hit by a tornado!”

  My face flushed red as I felt the tufts sticking out at odd angles and tried my best to smooth it, the stubborn strands standing against any of my efforts.

  “What’s going on here?” I managed as my mother put down the knife she was using to cut a cantaloupe and waved me to her side.

  “Your friend is so helpful!” she said, then to my horror, pulled out a wet rag and started patting down my hair as Arial suppressed a giggle. “Maybe you should study her and start waking up earlier to help me with breakfast. Are all of your friends from reading camp like this? I remember her father drove you back from the last camp.”

  “Nope, just me! Completely unique!” Arial announced and started to arrange the silverware. “Just thought I’d come over to meet SC’s family better before today starts, since he convinced me to come to this camp. I’m from out of town, and the hotel can get so lonely.”

  “Can it now?” I asked, tilting my head as Arial’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly.

  “Oh yes, it can,” she said, pushing authority into her words then softening them for my mother. “I’ve never stayed anywhere on my own, and it can get scary at night. I just don’t know how I can spend the next few weeks there.”

  “Oh, darling, there is plenty of room here for us!” My mother said before I had a chance to answer. “It’s humbler than a hotel, but you’ll have a bed and warm food, and someone to watch over you.”

  “That would be delightful!” Arial said as my jaw fell open and my mother finished with my hair. “I don’t have many things, and I promise not to get in your way.”

  “In my way? You’ve only helped,” my mother responded. “Please, it’s no trouble for us.”

  “Do you really think that’s the best idea?” I asked, thinking back to her father’s rage the night before.

  “Starchild, we may not have much, but what we do have we should always share,” my mother chided, and I heard rustling coming from the rooms as others started to awaken. “Now I’m going to freshen up since we’ll be needing to buy you some sheets and bedding. Is there anything else?”

  “Oh no,” said Arial, then pulled out a small pink wallet from her pocket, with a white stripe down the center. Like her shoes, it still looked brand new and stood out against the rest of the subway. “But please, use my father’s card—it’s for any incidentals on the trip, and I’ve barely used it at all. So far, I’ve spent nothing.”

  “If we weren’t so tight on a budget, I’d decline,” said my mother. “But if he insists—”

  “Please, he absolutely does,” responded Arial, and pushed the plastic into my mother’s hand. “I’ll go ahead and start serving breakfast if you want to get ready!”

  “So kind of you,” my mother said, then raised an eyebrow at me. “Start taking notes!”

  I waited for my mother to disappear on the way to the shower, then counted to five slowly before wheeling on Arial, who had already served herself breakfast and was quietly eating it at the table.

  “What the hell was that about?” I whispered as she drained a cup of orange juice and grimaced at our coffee.

  “What, I can’t meet your mother? Too soon? I’d say that this introduction went far better than the one with my parents.”

  “You know what I mean,” I said. “You’re planning on moving in? What, what happened?”

  “After you left, Father and I started to argue. Even more than we did before,” she said, keeping her eyes on her plate and stirring her eggs with a fork. “He started to guess about us, and he forbade me from ever seeing you. Not just that, but grounded me too, and wouldn’t listen to a word I had to say about how we were only trying to help. Said I couldn’t care for myself, and I wasn’t smart enough to stay out of trouble or powerful enough to get out of it. So this morning, after he went to work, I ran away.”

  “And you flew here, right where he can find us?” I demanded, then bit my tongue as she looked up, her eyes filled with tears since she had averted them, and the cheerful façade that she had put on for my mother dissipated.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, taking a seat next to her and wrapping her in a hug as she wiped her tears on my shoulder but refused to cry. “I just don’t want to make things worse. We know he can find you. And me, for that matter.”

  “He can only find me if I fly,” she said. “So I took the bus here. So long as I don’t use my power, he’s blind. And he won’t know until he gets home from work anyway. I left a note for my tutor in his handwriting saying that I was sick, so she won’t notify him. So we have a few hours. But, SC, I just can’t stand it. I’m tired of him thinking I’m not good enough—I used to think that way too, and it’s so easy to fall back into it at home! I need to get away. Besides, even if he found us down here, he can’t get in.”

  “I’m not so sure,” I said, thinking back to how Olef had appeared. “I’ve certainly made it more difficult, but I wouldn’t fully discount it. If he’s determined enough, he might find a way, especially if my mother is gone for the day. But we’ll think of something. We’ll figure this out.”

  “And it’s not just that, SC. It’s that I let Amelia get away. If I had been faster, I could have caught her. Now I need to fix it.”

  “Arial, you can’t think that way,” I said, but she held a finger up to my lips.

  “It’s how you think,” she said, and I realized that I had no retort.

  In a few minutes, the others joined us at the table, decimating the breakfast in a matter of minutes as I explained the situation. Then Slugger stood, pointing his knife at me.

  “I agree, Arial stays,” he said. “But we have a wee problem—today we see Roland, and he’s going to know who she is. What’s to stop him from snatchin her up right there for Pops?”

  “Father doesn’t work for the police anymore,” Arial said. “And besides, Father won’t know until later today, so I’ll be safe.”

  “Until he reports the kidnapping. Then Roland will know exactly where to go tomorrow mornin,” Slugger said.

  “Unless,” I said, tapping my fork on my empty plate, as pieces of a plan started to slide together in my mind. “Unless, tomorrow we’re somewhere else entirely.”

  Chapter 16

  “I like her,” my mother said, pulling me aside as we left, telling her that we were going to camp. “Very well dressed and so polite. Maybe you should start talking to her more! It’s good for her to stay here while she’s in town.”

  “I think I will,” I said, hiding a sheepish smile. “But for camp, we’re doing an excursion soon, I think. We’ll be on a college campus for a few lectures, details and permission slips to come later today!”

  My mother hesitated, but I held up two hands clasped together.

  “Please? Everyone else is going, and it’s the best college prep you can get!”

  “She’s going?” asked my mother, nodding to Arial.

  “Absolutely. I don’t think she’d miss it for the world,” I said, the words technically true.

  “Then all right, check in tonight. Just—just remember, it’s not safe out there,” she said, then ran her fingers through my hair on
e last time, solidifying the part.

  “I know, I know,” I said. “We’ll be sure to come back in one piece.”

  I rushed to catch up to the others, who were already ascending through the subway, traversing the empty corridors to the surface. We took off at a brisk walk, the five of us keeping to side alleys, though we no longer wore the hoodies we had in the past to keep hidden. Maybe it was the confidence in our powers, or maybe it was the weeks we had gone without being noticed, but they seemed like an accessory no longer necessary.

  We paused outside the police station, Lucio shifting from foot to foot, and even Slugger cracking his neck uncertainly at the sight of the shining glass doors. In the past few minutes, no less than five officers had passed in and out of the building. Suddenly, I wished we had brought some sort of disguise, remembering the multiple times I’d been pursued by the flashing blue lights.

  “Ennia,” I said, after a moment’s thought. “None of them are going to know who you are. But if my face sparks their memory, this could all go downhill quick. Go get Roland and tell him we’re only coming in if we aren’t seen.”

  “Finally, an assignment. I was afraid I’d have to keep making ones for myself.” She sighed then strode across the pavement. Despite the heat of the day, she wore long sleeves and a cap, necessary to protect her extraordinarily pale skin from the sun. She gave a curt nod to an officer in passing, the confidence of the motion seeming to exercise authority over the man, who paused in bewilderment as she strode past. Then she was inside, and we waited, until a familiar sensation brushed over the top of my head.

  Side door, on the left. I’ll let you through, came Roland’s voice directly into my mind, and I started forwards, checking the pocket above my wrist to make sure I had two dark orbs ready.

  “Just saying, I don’t think this is the best idea,” said Lucio.

  “Into the lion’s den,” confirmed Slugger.

  “I don’t like it either,” I answered as we arrived at the side door, seeing Roland’s figure appear through the glass, with Ennia standing behind him. “But he has something we need. If we have to fight, we fight, but not until I give the signal.”

  The door opened as Roland scanned his badge, then we were inside, following him down a hallway empty except for fluorescent light and the smell of stale coffee. We passed a vending machine, half out of stock, as well as a doorway leading to a row of cubicles occupied by a team furiously typing to finish their paperwork before lunch. Roland turned a left, and we entered his office, an area just big enough for us to fit uncomfortably. He pulled down the sets of blinds and shut the door, then sat behind his desk, clasping his hands together.

  “To make you feel safe, and as a sign of trust, I’m meeting you alone,” Roland said as Lucio picked up and studied one of the acrylic awards that littered a metal cabinet. “We both know that your powers outmatch mine, so take this as an extension of goodwill.”

  “For all we know, we’re surrounded,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest as Roland sighed.

  “If we were going to spring a trap, it would have been in the street. I’d rather replace asphalt than walls. And—hey, cut that out, you’ve been here thirty seconds, boy, and you’re already causing trouble. That’s twenty years of service!”

  Lucio froze from where he had managed to stack four of the awards in a gently leaning tower, then glowered as he dropped the fifth on top, the entire stack wobbling.

  “I’ve got the cuffs if necessary,” grunted Roland. “Now I brought you here for two reasons. One is to hear the direct story of what happened, to see if we missed anything. Slugger, you had the closest view. I’ll hear it from you then Arial.”

  While Slugger launched into his version of events, my eyes scanned Roland’s desk, searching over the folders that littered the particle board wood. Somewhere there, in the stacks of papers, there had to be what I was looking for. Or maybe it was on his computer, or locked away in some drawer beyond my reach. To my left, I could see Ennia leaning with a hand against the desk, her eyes also scanning for hints, but her expression went unchanged as she finished her search. By the time Arial finished her version, she gave her head the barest of a shake, a motion I matched with my own.

  “Not much extra to go on, then,” Roland said, grunting as he finished taking notes. “As for the suspect, he’s not uttering a single word. Can’t use a Truther to verify anything then, even if I could get the right warrants. They’re not easy to obtain.”

  “Couldn’t you just bring someone in to read his mind?” asked Lucio. “You know, pull information out whether he wants to give it or not.”

  “Despite the ethical boundaries that would prevent me from doing so,” said Roland. “As well as any lawyer with an ounce of knowledge using that to get him off any charges through the improper gathering of evidence, I can’t. Resisting a Mindreader is simple when you know it is coming, which he has likely prepared for. And if you don’t—well, the information we glean may simply be a fantasy or a daydream. It’s not dependable. Mindreaders read minds, not truths.”

  “But it would be something we could act on,” protested Arial. “Amelia, we don’t know what’s happening to her. We could save her with the right information.”

  “Or we could go on a wild goose chase with no end,” stated Roland, his voice firm. “Besides, it’s out of the question and against protocol. And like I said, he’ll walk if we do that. That’s not just it either—any time we get him close to talking, he pulls all the air of his chest. Starts suffocating himself until he passes out, then we start all over again.”

  Roland closed his eyes in frustration, hesitating for a moment, and in that instant a vivid memory flashed across my mind. A bright red question mark, one I recognized with the vibrant colors that formed Lucio’s signature, and I nodded. Lucio stepped backwards, his shoulder clipping the cabinet that held the tower of awards, sending them clattering to the floor, where they scattered around the office.

  “Damn it, what did I tell you!” shouted Roland, turning red in the face.

  “Hey! We’re just trying to help here!” Lucio yelled back, kicking one of the awards so it skidded under the desk. “Tried to save one girl, and you won’t even save the other. She’s only like two states over and you won’t lift a finger.”

  “She’s in Italy, you nitwit,” seethed Roland, and Lucio rolled his eyes.

  “Fine, three states over,” he said, throwing up his hands. “Oh, look at me, Mr. Police Chief, afraid of a long car ride and a Mindreader. I’ve seen police break enough laws before.”

  “States? States? Do they even teach geography in schools anymore? Italy’s a country across the ocean!”

  “Fine, a boat, then! What’s it take? A few hours? You officers are always so lazy. She’s just over there waiting to get kidnapped, probably poor and in the streets. Seems like you all like to pick on those.”

  “She’s the daughter of a senator, with a silver spoon bigger than any I’ve seen,” Roland retorted, struggling to regain control of his voice. “They’d be in the know, and not just that, they have the resources to protect her without my help.”

  “What, how big even is Italy? Like a thousand people? They probably couldn’t even fend us off. They even have cities there?”

  “Rome, with millions in the population. Considering she’s leveraged her father’s wealth into becoming leading movie actress, her security is likely larger than our force. Heard of Francesca, from international films? You haven’t, but a kid your age in Italy has.” Roland shook his head, then shot his next insult at Lucio. “How you have survived on the streets with that brain, I’ll never know. There’s no chance it will be for much longer. Darwinism, boy, study it.”

  “Enough,” I said, my voice sharp enough to break the argument. “There’s no point in talking about this. Roland, you said you brought us here for two reasons. The first was to give our side of the story. What’s the second?”

  But inwardly, I smiled and repeated the information to myse
lf.

  Francesca. Daughter of a senator. Rome.

  Chapter 17

  “Your suspect isn’t the only person we’ve tried to interrogate,” started Roland, and he turned his monitor to face us, opening up a video file with a few clicks of his mouse. “When we first captured her, we tried to get her to talk as well. Of course, she spilled nothing of interest. Nothing, until now—or more precisely, yesterday morning.”

  We leaned forwards to see the figure on screen, the camera placed outside a cell with concrete backing and a glass front. She wore an orange jumpsuit and sat straight on a plain white bed, her cold sapphire eyes staring directly into the lens. I shivered as her image jogged my memory, and even on screen, she seemed to exude a presence that drew my full attention.

  “Of course,” said Roland, tapping the speakers on his computer. “The cell is completely soundproof. We couldn’t risk her singing to one of the guards to release her, and absolutely any noise that passes out is altered through a modulator. We don’t want to take any risks.”

  He pressed play, and the figure came to life, blinking as if from a sleep. The voice came across as filtered when she spoke, a robotic stream of words far more disjointed than her usual alluring tone.

  “I’ve been counting the days since I arrived,” Siri said, and she laughed, throwing her head backwards to flash her too-white teeth. “By now, it would have started. I’m sure it has, but have you noticed it yet? Or course, it’s only a matter of time until you do. How many are missing now? How many have disappeared? Oh, if you only knew. If you only knew what you’ve done. But I know, I know all too well. They’re all like me, every one of them. But how you’ll wish you had me instead, because you’ll never get them all.”

 

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