Power

by Robert J. Crane

  “Hey!” I blushed. “I’m … nice.” I paused, considering that. “Okay, you got me. But Reed’s right, a dramatic change in personality now and he’ll know for a fact I’m jerking him along. There’s no chance of it working.”

  Reed settled an inscrutable gaze on me then nodded once. “Which is why I say we call his bluff and kill him.”

  “Maybe you should ask him about this Century meeting first,” Kat suggested.

  “He didn’t know anything about it,” I said. “Or so he claims. He says Claire is now blocking his efforts to try and track Century’s movements.”

  “Do you believe him?” Foreman asked in that deep, compelling voice of his.

  “Doesn’t matter,” I said. “It’s a dead end either way.”

  He nodded once. “I may have a way to track down this meeting for you. Let me rattle some cages.”

  “He probably means literal cages,” Reed said snottily, “where they keep the meta captives.”

  “What can I say?” Foreman asked coolly, “the U.S. Government hasn’t quite embraced the ‘kill them all!’ philosophy you’ve suddenly attached your wagon to. At least not yet.” He stood, drawing his powerfully built frame all the way up. “Let me make some calls.” He departed without another word.

  “What about Sovereign?” Zollers said. “Are we just going to let him stew in his own juices in the dormitory?”

  “You left him in the dormitory?” Ariadne said with a frown. “All alone?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “He’s probably going through my unmentionables right now, but otherwise it’d be hard for him to do any damage over there. We’ll keep him there until we figure out what to do with him, or …” I let my voice trail off for a moment as I pondered that lone possibility, “… until we get crazy enough or desperate enough to ask him for help taking out whatever else Century is getting ready to lob at us.”

  Chapter 36

  I clicked the door to my quarters shut behind me to find Sovereign still sitting in the chair in the corner, shrouded in shadow. “This still looks like a damned dreamwalk,” I muttered.

  “Should you be here talking to me?” I could see enough of his face to tell he had a wan smile. Light from the impending sunset was coming through the cracks in the shutters in thin shafts, and the whole place had a dusky red quality.

  I thought about flipping a light switch but decided against it. “If I don’t do it, who will? I’m supposed to be your jailer, after all.”

  “Good point.” He leaned back in the chair, a freestanding recliner with a footstool that I had thought was tasteful when I ordered it online in the five minutes per day I had back when we were getting the dorms up and running. It was white leather, and I’d fallen asleep in it more than a few times while reading briefings. “So what should we talk about?”

  “You’re supposed to be playing solitaire, I think.”

  He held up the cuffs. “Makes it tough to deal.”

  I walked toward the kitchenette. “Like those could hold you.”

  “I admit I’m surprised,” he said. “There are restraints that actually could hold me, but you don’t seem like you’re even trying.”

  “They could hold you for a little while,” I admitted as I made my way to the fridge. I opened it and found it completely empty save for a bottle of ketchup in the door and I couldn’t even vouch for that. How long had it been since I’d been grocery shopping? I couldn’t even remember. We’d ordered a lot of takeout and delivery since the cafeteria staff had been furloughed. “But then you’d just jack some poor bastard’s mind and have him get you out if you wanted to escape, so why put people in harm’s way?”

  “Is that why you left me over here by myself?” he asked. “You don’t want anyone to get hurt in case I decide to make a break for it?”

  “You’re the mind reader,” I said, shutting the refrigerator door. “You tell me.”

  “I don’t read your mind,” he said quietly. “It’s a respect thing. For the same reason I haven’t gone through your unmentionables.” I looked back and caught a slight smile.

  “But you don’t respect other peoples’ minds,” I said.

  “I have no particular compunction about rummaging through one that’s steered by someone who’s suggested that you kill an unarmed prisoner without a trial,” he said, sounding only a hint defensive in his explanation.

  “I’m sure Reed will love hearing that you were going through his thoughts,” I said.

  “He already wants me dead,” Sovereign said with a shrug. “I’m not exactly going to trip over myself trying to change his mind when it’s already so dead set against me.”

  “But you’re out to change my mind,” I said. “About you.”

  “I’m not exactly hiding that fact, either,” he said. “Unless you’re a real slow thinker, like your brother.” He paused. “No offense.”

  “Yeah, you insult my brother, but no offense to me,” I said, under my breath. I leaned back on the counter behind me. “I’d have to be a real slow thinker not to believe you might be playing a game on multiple levels here.”

  “You would,” he agreed smoothly. “I hope you’re considering all the possibilities. You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t have a suspicious mind that’s always on the lookout for the backstab. You’ve been betrayed a few too many times to trust lightly, and I understand that. Which is why I came here in good faith. Which is why I’m not resisting. Which is why I’m not doing anything untoward, and why I’m willing to help you however I can.” He held up his chained hands again. “You and I are going to live a long time, and I don’t think I’ve made any secret of the fact that you are the reason I was undertaking what I was.” He settled his head a little lower. “I realize now that I was wrong. I was affiliated with the wrong people, my aims were just wrong … and I need to make amends for that.” He looked up and still I said nothing. “I recognize that it’s unlikely you’re going to be willing to think of me as anything other than a criminal and murderer for a lifetime.”

  I felt my jaw settle at that. “But we live longer than a normal lifetime, and you’re willing to put in the time proving you’re contrite? Is that it?”

  “That is it,” he said, sounding like he meant it. “I’ve messed up, and I’ll spend however much time I need to convincing you that I’m genuinely sorry for what I’ve done.” He paused and looked down. “If you’ll give me the chance.”

  I studied him, unflinching. He didn’t look pathetic, exactly, but he was laying on the contrition with a heavy spoon. I didn’t know how good of an actor he was, but he was right about the way my mind worked. I wouldn’t have put it past him to be working another angle.

  I just didn’t know what that angle was.

  “All right,” I said, neutrally. “Let’s say I believe you—which I think we both know I don’t—yet. But let’s say I did. You have no knowledge of where Century is now, what pieces they’re moving, what this meeting is about—or so you claim.” I added that last part to needle him, and he took it well. “So how are you going to help me?”

  “Well,” he said, leaning back against the recliner again, “it’s true, I’m on the outs with them. But that doesn’t mean I don’t know anything. I have lots of information, and I’m willing to share all of it with you.”

  “Oh, really?” I asked and took a couple steps down into the pit that was my living room. “Okay. Let’s start with an easy one. You’ve talked about phase two, about how you’d put the whole world under Century’s boot,” I watched as he nodded once, but with some reluctance. I wasn’t sure he wanted to part with this one. “How are they going to do it? Take over the world? Beat all the armies and all that?”

  “Easier than you think,” Sovereign said, and another expression came forward now, causing his lips to twist in something that looked like … fear? “They have an Ares.”

  Chapter 37

  “What the hell is an Ares?” Scott asked.

  “God of War,” Reed said as we walked, back down
the tunnel to the headquarters building. They’d both fallen in behind me as I walked, churning through the thoughts in my head. “They can take command of anyone whose mind is thinking violent thoughts, force them to fight for them or even kill themselves.” I heard his voice change as he directed his next comment to me. “Hera told me they were all dead.”

  “Apparently not,” I said. “Kind of like my uncle the Hades, Century seems to have dug one up somehow.”

  “As many influential metas as they’ve recruited—Loki and Amaterasu, for example—they’ve got thousands of years worth of meta secrets at their disposal,” Reed said. “A hell of a lot more knowledge than we’ve got.”

  I tapped the side of my head with a single finger. “Speak for yourself. I’ve got the wisdom of lifetimes.”

  “Yeah, lifetimes spent murdering and pillaging,” Reed said with a snort.

  “And that’s just Eve,” I agreed, taking a little shot at Kappler. She was still circling in the back of my mind, swirling in her own angry juices. I was betting that wouldn’t help, but I was beyond caring.

  “Seems like there were a lot of meta types that have gone extinct,” Scott said.

  “It’s a downward trend,” Reed agreed, “though it’s gotten a lot sharper lately.”

  We fell into a silence. It was a heady feeling, realizing you’re part of an endangered species. When I first came to the Directorate and learned about what I was, I’d been told we had somewhere around three thousand metas on the planet. Now we were down to five hundred or so. Three thousand was a low number in a world populated by seven billion people. Five hundred was a rounding error.

  “At least they’re not hunting the other metas right now,” Reed said, snapping us out of that deathly quiet. “So … they’ve got an Ares. What are they going to do with it?”

  “Turn it loose on anyone that has war and violence in mind,” I said, repeating what Sovereign had told me. “They think the Ares is strong enough to affect the whole world, and that they’ll be able to pretty much kill every soldier and violent criminal and policeman—anyone who’s of a mind to do some harm to other people, even in a protective way—to fall on their own sword, metaphorically speaking.”

  “What if they don’t have a sword handy?” Scott asked.

  “I don’t know,” I said with a shake of the head. “Maybe they claw their own throat out, maybe they ram their head against the wall until it breaks open, maybe they decide it’s not worth the trouble and sit down to have a cup of tea. I have no idea. I’m not exactly an expert on how these things work.”

  “I’ve never even heard of a meta like this,” Scott said. “They’re not a telepath?”

  “This power is kind of like … it’s a weird strain of powers, I guess,” I said. “Do you remember that girl Athena?”

  “The one who died when the Century mercs hit the dorms, right?” Scott frowned. “When Breandan—”

  “Yeah,” I said, cutting him off. “She was an Athena-type. She had the ability to influence the mind in directions of … I don’t know, Janus called it working the ‘better angels of our nature.’ She could stimulate the brain toward arts and goodness, or something. I don’t pretend to understand how it works, but I think Ares types work like that, but in the areas of violence and nastiness.”

  “So they take out anyone with a will to do violence, and then what?” Reed asked.

  “Kill all the sheepdogs and you’ve got a herd without any defense,” Scott said.

  “And the world falls right into your grasp, no muss, no fuss,” I said. “Without any metas left to oppose them and with everyone who might be willing to take up arms against them impaled on their own swords, Century rules the world and can remake it in their image.”

  It got quiet for a minute. “That’s a lot of dead bodies,” Reed said.

  “Probably,” I said. “But Sovereign’s always said it’d be a so-called better world. And it’s ‘better’ because all that tendency to harm each other would be wiped out good and proper. The survivors would get to live with Sovereign’s axe hanging over them—step out of line and you catch the blade across the back of your neck.”

  “You can’t tell me people wouldn’t fight back,” Reed said.

  “Maybe,” I said. “But if you think about it, he’s perfectly positioned to cut them off at the knees every time. All your soldiers and cops are gone, all your civilians who’d fight back are dead. It leaves you with the willingly ruled.”

  “And this is a better world how?” Scott asked. “You’re killing all the people who might maybe possibly do harm all at once instead of letting those who will do harm do it. That’s gotta be like a hundred to one ratio, for all the people who might do violence to those who actually do violence.”

  “I don’t know, I didn’t stick around for the grandiose explanation of the virtues of his final solution to the world’s violence problem,” I said. “I just know the weapon Century means to use and how it works.”

  “And as for how we stop it?” Scott asked as we emerged from the tunnel into HQ.

  “Well, they are having a meeting of all hands in the next couple days,” I said as I made for the staircase. “If we can find that—”

  “We can storm in there and get ourselves killed all at once,” Reed said sarcastically, “letting the remainder of Century carry out their plans unimpeded by any pesky distractions.”

  I shook my head wearily. “I’m working on a plan.”

  I could feel Reed’s gaze on the back of my neck as I climbed the stairs. “And how’s it going so far?”

  “So far it’s comprised of ‘kill them all’ … and that’s about it.”

  “The Wolfe school of tactical engagement,” Reed said, voice still laden with irony. He paused, and his tone dropped. “In this case, I actually like it.”

  We emerged into the fourth floor bullpen and I realized with surprise that the sun was setting. Had it already been another whole day? That was fast. I glanced toward the conference room. “How’s Harper doing?”

  “She seemed to take it all mostly in stride,” Scott said. “As I understand it, she’s got the drone over us right now, keeping a watch in case we need it.”

  “Surveillance state,” Reed muttered.

  “Hm,” I said. “We probably will need it at some point, if we can get a fix on the location of this meeting. Did J.J. manage to scrape anything off Weissman’s laptop?”

  “Nothing helpful,” Reed said. “Seems like this meeting might have been called after he died.”

  “It’s election time in the Evil League of Evil,” I quipped. “I wonder who the frontrunner is to be the next Bad Horse?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Scott said.

  “You look tired,” Reed said as we came to a stop outside my office.

  “I can’t imagine why,” I said. “Did we do that freeway battle today or yesterday?”

  “Today,” Scott said. “I think.”

  “No,” Reed said, “the warehouse explosion was today.”

  “Nice,” I said, and rubbed my eyes. “So my mom died … one or two nights ago?” I honestly couldn’t keep track. This was a lot to have going on, wasn’t it?

  “Yeah,” Reed said, voice soft. “I, um … started making the arrangements. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “I don’t mind,” I said. “Better you handle it than me.” Because if I had to handle it right now, I might start to feel dark clouds of emotion descending to fog my brain further. Which would probably be bad. “We need a lead on this meeting. Why don’t we gather everybody in the conference room—”

  “Why don’t you get some sleep,” Reed suggested quietly, “and we’ll talk about it when you wake up.”

  “Because we’ve got two days—” I started.

  “And if on the second day you pass out from exhaustion just before the big battle,” Scott said, “how’s that going to go for your team?”

  I shot him a sour look. “I don’t know. I can fight better i
n my sleep than most people can awake.”

  “Not against these odds,” Reed said with a shake of the head. “We need you at your best.”

  “Not that we’re saying that your average isn’t good—” Scott added. His voice was full of concern. It was adorable. And annoying.

  “I’ll be in my office,” I said, cutting him off. “I will lie down on my couch, and if sleep comes, I’ll embrace it. If it doesn’t arrive in the next thirty minutes, I want a meeting in the conference room with all hands, and we’re going to sit there and keep mulling this until we crack it.” I paused. “Is Janus out of the hospital yet?”

  “We’re springing him later tonight,” Reed said. “Figure he’ll be mobile by then. Not everyone shrugs off third-degree burns quite like you, after all.”

  “And why should they?” I asked, turning to head into my office. I closed the door. “I’ve had a lot of practice at it.”

  I let out a long breath and realized that there was no chance I’d make a meeting in thirty minutes. Not a bit of a chance, even. I took a step and my foot dragged. Using the Wolfe power takes the strength right out, Little Doll.

  Commanding fire exerts a similar tax upon the will, Gavrikov said softly.

  “And constantly thinking about how to outwit your enemies when they outnumber you a hundred to one takes a toll of a different kind,” I said to the empty room.

  It’s not a hundred to one anymore, Zack reminded me quietly. I sat back on the couch, felt my head press into the soft cushions, and imagined him leaning over me.

  “It’s close,” I said.

  They would follow you to the end, Zack said. If you let them.

  “I know,” I said, my voice echoing in the empty room. “Which is why I can’t let them.”

  Chapter 38

  Rome

  281 A.D.

  “This will be a very great challenge for you,” Janus said quietly. Marius was listening, carefully, watching Janus as best he could reflected in the cloudy glass mirror that stood before him. “The first time you absorb a metahuman, I am told that the battle of wills is fierce.”