Replication: A Kid Sensation Novel (Kid Sensation #6)
Page 32
I groaned in exasperation, increasingly vexed by my inability to come up with a solution. I was confident that there was an answer somewhere, but for some reason I just couldn’t see it. I really needed to clear my head.
And with that thought, I decided to do the one thing that always seemed to relax me. I phased and then flew straight up, going vertically through the embassy until I found myself in open air. I continued on, flying high up into the sky.
I stopped when I was several hundred feet in the air. Taking a moment to glance down, I took note of how far away everything seemed: buildings, houses, cars…all the signs of humanity’s presence – and its problems. It all seemed so distant now.
I looked above me and saw the stars, twinkling merrily. As always, I found myself fascinated by them – how bright they were, how distant…how boundless and infinite the universe itself was. In the face of all that, it almost made my problems seem trivial.
Now feeling a bit more lighthearted, I zoomed away, smiling slightly as I zipped through the sky.
*****
I spent about an hour soaring through the sky, simply reveling in the majesty of flight. As I had hoped, being aloft relaxed me by allowing me to leave my problems on the ground – at least for a little while. Soon enough, though, it was time to head back. Dawn had broken, and my family was probably awake and wondering where I was. Reluctantly, I decided to hurry back to the embassy before they started to worry. On the bright side, however, we’d all be able to have breakfast toge–
My thoughts were cut off by something akin to an explosion on the metaphysical plane. It was a psychogenic wailing of pain and anguish, but on a scale I’d never seen. On a supersensory level, it was the equivalent of a ten-point-oh-magnitude earthquake; mentally, it rattled everything in sight, and literally knocked the wind out of me.
Having experienced something similar in the past, I recognized the sensation and knew exactly what it was: the death throes of a powerful telepath – most likely as the result of some massive trauma. Psychic or not, almost everyone for miles around had surely felt the impact, and it continued to mentally reverberate.
As the telepathic keening lingered and echoed, I picked up the hint of something familiar about it – and then froze, reeling in horror.
Oh no…
Chapter 77
I teleported back to the embassy, popping up in my room. Almost immediately, I picked up on extreme anxiety and duress, among other things, coming from several sources. At the same time, my mother and grandmother both began telepathically yelling at me – Mom almost hysterically. Although they were mentally talking over each other, I was able to make out where they were: the main living room. A moment later, I had teleported there and stood, dumbfounded, by the scene before me.
My grandfather was lying on the floor, with my grandmother cradling his head in her lap. Gramps seemed to be muttering something, but I couldn’t make out what it was. My mother was on the floor as well – on my grandfather’s right side, holding his hand, while Myshtal was on his left side doing the same. All three of them – my mother, grandmother, and Myshtal – were sobbing.
I dashed over at super speed, and then stared, completely aghast at what I saw.
The right side of my grandfather’s head was caved in, liked someone had smashed him in the temple with a sledgehammer. However it had happened, the trauma had been so forceful that it had caused his right eye to pop out of its socket, and it lay dangling on his cheek. Beneath him was a widening pool of blood – my grandmother’s clothes were soaked with it. And his brains. I could see his brains…
I dropped to my knees at my grandfather’s feet, practically in shock. My vision got blurry as my eyes watered, and a second later, the tears started to flow, hot and heavy. I didn’t try to stop them…didn’t want to.
“Sxibbo!!!” Indigo screamed, and I suddenly realized she had been calling out to me. “The Beobona!”
Of course! The Beobona! The ancient artifact had healed me on more than one occasion – saved my life, in fact. It could do the same for Gramps.
I nodded to my grandmother to indicate I understood, and then concentrated on where the Beobona was kept. A moment later, the armored, spider-like relic appeared near my grandfather’s head as I teleported it.
Indigo looked up at the Beobona expectantly. I know what she was hoping, because I was wishing for the same thing: that the Beobona’s chest cavity would open and it would shine its healing light on my grandfather. Unfortunately, the relic’s torso stayed closed. Even worse, the Beobona turned and began striding from the room – presumably headed back to its normal spot.
I lowered my eyes. Pleading with the Beobona wouldn’t do any good. The thing did as it pleased. My cheeks now soaked with tears, I reached out and laid a hand on my grandfather’s leg.
Gramps was still muttering, and I could finally make out some of what he was saying.
“Birdsong?” my grandfather muttered. “That’ll be bayside…the Prexin Twins…Indigo, don’t want to…”
He continued rambling nonsensically, plainly the result of his head injury. However, as he spoke, his voice began to fade.
“John!” Indigo howled, obviously hoping her voice (and hearing his name) would be a source of strength. “John!”
At the same time, my mother fervently whispered, “Hang on, Dad. Hang on.”
On my part, I struggled to find words, but none would come. Instead, I simply closed my eyes and focused on Gramps – what he meant to me, all that he’d done for me, and how he’d always been there for me. I desperately wished we had more time together. More time to talk, more time to laugh, more time to build memories.
A harsh intake of breath interrupted my thoughts. I opened my eyes, and for a moment had trouble making sense of what I was seeing.
Gramps was encompassed by a soft blue glow that covered him from head to foot. Mom, Indigo, and Myshtal had all moved back, causing me to realize that the glow was actually coming from me – emanating from where my hand still touched my grandfather’s leg.
I blinked in surprise, but managed to keep my composure as I realized what was happening. This was the power I had developed on Caeles, the ability that had saved Queen Dornoccia’s life. And I knew without a doubt that it would save my grandfather, too.
Chapter 78
The blue glow faded after a few minutes. After it disappeared, my grandfather appeared to simply be asleep (albeit on the floor). Notably, the dent in his skull was gone, and his eye was back in place. Also, thankfully, I could no longer see any gray matter. (The blood was still on the floor, but there wasn’t much to be done about that.)
“He’ll be okay now,” I said to no one in particular as I stood up. “Now, tell me what happened.”
It didn’t take long to get the story from the three women, and I could almost have guessed what had happened: my doppelganger, Jack, had shown up at the embassy.
He had seemingly gotten inside by using telekinesis to unlock the door. It wasn’t clear what he’d wanted, but Gramps had told everyone else to stay back (presumably to keep them out of harm’s way) and had then tried to subdue Jack telepathically. Jack had lashed out in retaliation, telekinetically whipsawing my grandfather around before finally smashing his head against a marble countertop. (Looking around as they told the tale, I could see that the living room was in disarray, with furniture thrown around helter-skelter, a bookshelf knocked over, and so on.) Shortly thereafter, I had shown up.
As I heard about what had happened, I had trouble controlling my temper. This was exactly the type of scenario I’d been worried about – the very thing I’d wanted to avoid – and Jack obviously hadn’t taken what I said seriously. As a result, Gramps had almost died.
“I need to leave,” I announced to everyone in general.
“Why?” my mother asked, voice full of concern. “Where are you going?”
“To find Jack,” I declared bluntly. “I’m going to kill him.”
Chapter 79
Now that I was ready to go on the offensive, I found myself with a bit of a dilemma: I actually didn’t know how to find my doppelganger. Upon reflection, Jack had always found me. I didn’t have the slightest idea of where to even start looking for him – but I knew someone who probably did: Gray.
Unfortunately, I didn’t have a number for him. Gray had given me a card with his contact info once a while back, but I had discarded it long ago. I had just never envisioned myself willingly reaching out to him, and it galled me to do so now. For a moment, I considered whether Myshtal could help, as she had a power that let her locate things, including people; however, it had to be something or someone she had a connection with, and Jack didn’t count. Thus, it appeared that dealing with Gray was the only way to get what I needed.
That said, I couldn’t contact him without the proper info, and I suddenly felt annoyed that I couldn’t reach him as easily as he always seemed to reach me. And then the light bulb came on.
Why not? I thought. It was worth a try, and he’d specifically said to call him if I needed him.
I took out my cell phone and brought up the virtual assistant that was part of the phone’s operating system. I took a moment to get my thoughts together, feeling that the situation was completely surreal, and then found my resolve.
“Call Gray,” I said.
Nothing happened.
Undaunted, I decided to try again. “Call Gray.”
The virtual assistant still didn’t respond.
I made a few more attempts, trying different types of inflection and tone, but nothing worked. I was about to throw in the towel when I realized there was one more thing I could try, but doing so rankled immensely. Still, I wasn’t going to leave any stone unturned.
I wiped my face with my hand, completely irked by what I was about to do, wishing there was some other way.
Shaking my head in disgust at my own actions, I softly muttered, “Call Mister Gray.”
The phone began dialing.
Chapter 80
“So, we have a deal?” Gray asked.
“Yes,” I agreed without hesitation. “You give me what I need, and I come work for you.”
“Excellent,” Gray said with a smug grin.
We were once again in our usual meeting spot in the back of the SUV. My phone hadn’t shown any digits, but it had definitely called Gray, who had seemingly been waiting for me to make contact. Two minutes later, I was in the back of the vehicle, making a deal with the devil.
“This is the dawn of a great new day,” Gray continued.
“Well, the sun hasn’t cleared the horizon yet,” I countered. “You need to answer my questions – fully – or the deal’s off.”
“Of course,” he responded. “And since you’re officially joining the team, I can grant you temporary clearance so I can share information that was restricted before.”
“Whatever,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Mouse isn’t going to believe this when I tell him.”
“Hold on,” Gray interjected. “You can’t tell your mentor – or anyone else – that you’re working with us.”
“The hell I can’t. I’m not keeping secrets from Mouse. I decide who to share pertinent information with, so either I tell him, or we can call this whole thing off before the ink’s dry.”
Gray appeared to contemplate for a moment, then shrugged. “Have it your way. Share whatever you want.”
“Great,” I muttered. “Now that that’s out of the way, how do I find Jack?”
“With this,” Gray said, handing me a metal device about the size of a cell phone, containing what appeared to be a radar screen. He had apparently anticipated the question, as he’d already had the device in hand.
“Unbeknownst to him, Jack has a small homing beacon implanted in his neck,” Gray continued.
“A homing beacon?” I echoed, incredulously. “Really?”
“He was a high-value asset, and some folks at the upper echelons wanted their investment protected,” Gray explained. “Anyway, that tracker will allow you to pinpoint his location.”
“Hold on,” I grumbled. “If you’ve been able to track him all this time, why haven’t you tried to take him down?”
“Lack of resources,” Gray admitted.
I grunted in disbelief. Gray had an army at his disposal, not to mention advanced weaponry and tech. It was hard to imagine him coming up short on anything he needed, but I decided not to delve into the subject.
“Next, what’s the story on Jack’s phasing ability?” I inquired.
“What do you mean?” Gray asked in response.
“Well, you told me that he used his phasing power when he attacked one of his handlers.”
Gray nodded. “He did.”
“Then why haven’t I seen any evidence of phasing?” I demanded. “With most guys who can phase, you can’t lay a finger on them in terms of physical harm. They just become insubstantial. But with Jack, he’s taken a shot to the gut, gotten fried by my girlfriend, slung around by Atalanta, and I gripped him by the collar and shook him. Maybe you get caught every now and then by one of those if you can phase, but not that often.”
My narrative was the continuation of the notion that had occurred to me the night before – the train of thought I’d started developing just before my grandfather had telepathically contacted me.
“His phasing ability is limited,” Gray replied. “Only small objects – pens, pencils, paper clips. Things along those lines in terms of size and density.”
“And you couldn’t tell me that before?” I huffed.
“Classified,” Gray explained simply. It was an unsatisfying response, but I went on.
“So why is that?” I asked. “Why only little things? Is it the result of some kind of conditioning, like his inability to harm you?”
Gray shook his head. “It’s not anything that was part of our program. It appears to be some kind of inherent psychological barrier.”
“You’re saying it’s some sort of self-imposed limitation – some kind of unintentional roadblock he’s constructed,” I said. “Don’t you think that’s weird?”
Gray shrugged. “No more weird than a telepath who has trouble reading minds.”
I ignored his subtle dig at me and moved on.
“How does he find me? Are you guys tracking me – maybe through my phone or something – and he somehow has access to that data?”
“No. Your friend Mouse has altered the telemetry and specs on all League communication devices. So, while we can call you on your phone, we can’t track you using it.”
“So how does he do it? How does Jack always seem to know exactly where I am?”
For the first time, Gray looked truly uncomfortable, a sure indication that I wasn’t going to like his answer.
“It’s never been formally documented,” he began, “but Jack appears to have a low-level precognitive ability.”
“What?!” I screeched, eyes wide. “He can see the future?!”
“As I said, it’s never been formally documented.”
“Oh, you want to play word games?” I growled. “Fine. So how was it informally documented?”
Gray gave me a sideways look, then sighed. “When Jack’s handlers were trying to gauge his telepathic abilities, they often did it using a card test.”
“I know,” I stated. “I’ve seen the tapes.”
A look of surprise momentarily crossed Gray’s face, then he went on. “From all appearances, Jack flunked the test soundly every time it was given. But upon review, it came to light that – while he generally wasn’t able to peg the card that the tester was holding – he was actually identifyin
g the next card in the deck. He would do that accurately eight or ten times in a row, which is far too great for it to be a coincidence.”
“And nobody noticed that?”
“His handlers had tunnel vision on occasion. They knew his potential based on your power set, and they were so focused on those areas that they seemingly overlooked other talents he might have possessed. Thus, the person doing the card test just noted that Jack’s answer to the pending question was wrong and failed to see the predictive pattern.”
“Now I understand,” I said, smoldering with anger. “This is why you’ve never gone after him yourself, and it’s got nothing to do with a lack of resources. It’s because he’d see you coming.”
“Resources doesn’t just mean having a bunch of tools at your disposal,” Gray countered. “It means having the right tool for the right job. If I’ve got the equivalent of a tactical nuke about to go off, it doesn’t do me any good to send in an army of uneducated grunts. I need a bomb expert.”
“And in this instance you found one – me.”
“I don’t deny that you’re the right person for the task at hand, and sending anyone else would probably just get good people killed.”
I let out a groan of frustration. “You know, you should teach a course on manipulation. This is your mess – you created it – and yet somehow, I’m tasked with cleaning it up. Moreover, at the end of the day, I’m indebted to you.”
Gray chuckled. “Don’t you get it? You’re in the course right now.”
I was about to give a wiseacre response when my phone rang. I glanced at the caller ID and noted who was ringing me: Mouse.
“You need to get that?” Gray asked.
“No,” I replied, sending the call to voicemail and putting away the phone. “Now, we were talking about Jack’s precognition. You called it ‘low-level’ before. What does that mean?”
“From what we can tell, he seems to only be able to see things in his personal future. That is, things he’s personally involved in.”