As suddenly as they’d appeared, Jonathan Ma’s leather-clad clones exploded into piles of shattered crystal, disappearing into the snow. His jaw fell slack, staring down at what remained of his creations.
Kenneth stopped mid-step. “You summoned me for this?” he shouted, folding his arms across his chest. His cape flapped wildly in the wind, gusting behind him. “You couldn’t find a local superhuman to test your device on?” Valeriya stood fast at his side, eyes as cold as the mountain top. She wore only a white dress and a thin wool sweater, but if she’d been bothered by the sub-zero temperatures, she wasn’t showing it.
“I came to talk,” I yelled back, making my way towards him. Brynja and Dzobiak followed a step behind.
“This is one of your fortresses. The ones you acquired from the Frost Corporation.”
“Good guess.”
He stared intensely at the ground below, as if he could see straight through the three-meter steel platform and down into the belly of the hollowed-out mountain top, directly into the reactor core that powered the world’s largest cerebral dampening unit. His powers seemed to be expanding exponentially – for all I knew, he could.
“The CDU that’s beneath us,” he said, tilting his chin upward, “it must be an impressive device to dampen even my abilities.”
“Just keeping everyone honest,” I replied flatly. “With it activated, you know that Brynja isn’t reading your mind, and we know…”
“What?” he said. “That I won’t slice you into pieces?”
“Like you did to Janice?” Dzobiak cut in. His hand was poised at his hip, fingers trembling with nerves like a gun slinger in the old west, prepared to draw.
“Who’s your jumpy friend?” Kenneth asked, his eyes flicking towards the detective.
“Detective Todd Dzobiak, New York PD,” he stated, “and the only reason you’re not in cuffs is because of this man right here, so you should choose your next words pretty goddamned carefully.”
The darkness I’d seen earlier began to once again gather behind Kenneth’s eyes, though his face remained stoic. “I know Janice West,” he said coolly. “What happened to her?” He asked as if he really didn’t know, and simultaneously didn’t care.
The detective’s fingertips brushed the grip of his pistol, but he left it holstered. “Maybe the satellite reception inside your pyramid is on the fritz, Ken, but it’s all over the simulcasts. Janice’s body is floating on the shore of your island. Someone whacked her.”
Kenneth raised his eyebrows, though he didn’t appear overly surprised. “That is a tragic loss of life,” he replied. “Though I fail to see how this is any of my business.”
“Uh-huh. Well you’d better make it your business, because if I don’t bring evidence back to the Justice Department in the next thirty minutes, we’re coming for your ass.”
“She was a non-believer,” Valeriya shouted. “The others were…unhappy with her lack of faith.”
“One of your followers executed that poor girl?” Brynja asked, clasping her hands over her mouth. “How could you give them an order like that?”
When the horrified words spilled from Brynja mouth, Kenneth’s demeanor softened, and a flicker of his former self glimmered from beneath the veneer he’d created. It was the same kid who’d asked for my autograph just a year and a half ago – the stammering fanboy who I’d shared a couch with, flinging potato chips into each other’s mouths and sharing stories from our pasts. He seemed wounded, as if Brynja had dealt him a crushing blow with the pain in her eyes.
“It’s not…I would never do that,” he said, steeling his resolve. “Brynja, you can’t believe I’d ever ask someone to execute—”
“He owes you no explanation,” Valeriya cut in. “One of The Living Eye’s followers must have been responsible. They are the one you seek.”
“Well that’s a pretty big problem,” Dzobiak stated matter-of-factly. “You see if there’s a murderer running around that island, and if you can’t turn them over, we’re going to have to come in and find them ourselves. And you’re gonna have to answer a couple questions.”
Kenneth didn’t blink. He shook his head defiantly, staring a hole through the detective.
“Kenneth,” I added, as gently as I could manage, “come on, man. You have to know something. There are only a couple hundred people on that island, and they’re all there because of you. Help out now, before things get worse.”
“How dare you,” Valeriya shouted in my general direction before turning her attention towards Kenneth. She jutted her finger towards me and stomped her tiny foot into the snow. “You cannot allow a mortal to speak to you in this manner. What if your followers were here, listening to this blasphemy?”
“Blasphemy?” Brynja asked, her face contorting into a mask of confusion. “What the freaking hell is that supposed to mean?”
Valeriya spun around. “It means that The Living Eye is above people like Matthew Moxon and this detective. He has been gifted powers like my brother before him.”
Kenneth glanced down at Valeriya and then at Ma, who was staring at him expectantly. “I offer my people inspiration and guidance,” he said, straightening his back, rolling his shoulders. “Nothing more. If they kill in my name, so be it. Their reasons are their own.”
The detective snatched the gun with a practiced flick of his wrist, aiming it at Kenneth’s head. “I’ve heard about enough of this. Kenneth Livitski, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used—”
“Todd, don’t do this, man.” I stepped towards him and he stiff-armed me, jamming his palm into my chest.
“This is police business now, Mox. I need to bring this sack of shit in for questioning. He just gave me probable cause.” Dzobiak reached behind his back and produced a pair of cuffs with his free hand. He pressed forward, approaching with caution.
Kenneth jutted his hands out in front of him, wrists close together. “Be my guest, detective. I’d like to see you try.”
“TODD,” I shouted, stepping in front of him. “You’re not thinking this through: he’s only dampened because we’re standing above a CDU. The second we all board my jet and lift off he’s back at full power. Kenneth could tear his way out of the aircraft and fly back to his island, leaving us all very, very dead.”
Kenneth nodded in agreement, lifting his shoulders into a lazy shrug. “They don’t call him a genius for nothing, you know.”
Dzobiak kept his gun aimed squarely at my head, with Kenneth standing behind. He was aiming right through me. “Well then we’re at a stalemate, because I can’t let this guy go.”
“You can, and you will,” Kenneth said with complete and total confidence. He delivered the news with such towering bravado that it caused Valeriya’s lips to purse, curling into an arrogant smirk. “You are going to put away that toy of yours, Mox will turn off his dampener, and I’m taking my people back to my island. And no one is going to bother me. I see a single American flag enter my airspace…”
“Say it,” Dzobiak threatened, shoving me aside. This time I toppled over, landing painfully on my ass. “Give me a reason, Ken. I’ll put a bullet right through your stupid fucking eye.” He lowered the barrel towards the emblem on The Living Eye’s chest; the bright blue logo that crackled with energy, as if it were powered by an unseen power source.
Kenneth’s eyes flicked to his chest and back to the detective. “If your people come to my island – and have no delusions, it is my island – I will not be responsible for what happens to them. Your army is more than welcome to try, Detective Dzobiak. You all know where to find me.” He took a step towards the detective until they were just a few feet apart, the barrel nearly poking Kenneth in the sternum. “Now holster your weapon, unless you plan on becoming a murderer yourself.”
Dzobiak’s finger trembled and his eye twitched. He let out a long breath, a puff of warm mist forming as he exhaled. Then he stepped back, slamming the weapon back in its holster.
“That
is what I thought,” Valeriya gloated. “Americans, all alike. Barking dogs, bearing their teeth…but once you discipline them, they come to heel.”
The detective gritted his teeth. “Keep talking, assholes.”
Dzobiak turned and wandered to the back edge of the platform, and Brynja came to my side. “How could you do this?” she asked Kenneth. “How could you listen to this little psychopath?”
“I came to your rescue twice,” he stated impassively. “I saved you once the desert, and came here because I thought you were in danger. And this is the thanks I get? How you repay my kindness?”
“Kindness?” she blurted out. “You’re stalking me across the globe and you want a fucking thank you card?”
“Your blood was designed to help me keep track of you – to keep you safe. And I’m doing a much better job of it than Matthew Moxon.” He said my name without so much as glancing in my direction; he was speaking as if I wasn’t in earshot, standing just a few feet away.
“What is my blood?” Brynja thundered, lunging towards Kenneth. She hammered his chest with her fists, but he stood fast, never even reacting. “Why the fuck did you bring me back like this?! Why do I feel so, so…”
“Empty?” he asked, snatching her wrists with both hands. “Why are you morose, directionless? It might be the company you keep. I can give you more than he can…I can give you purpose.”
“Her?” Valeriya barked. “She’s a killer!” Her crystal blue eyes welled with tears.
“We’ve all made mistakes,” Kenneth said, keeping his gaze locked on Brynja. “Haven’t we? Let’s move on together. Come to the island with us right now and start over. I’ll give you the answers you seek and more. I’ll give you power…more power than you’d ever thought possible. Together we can do what no politician, no businessman, no supposed genius has ever been able to accomplish. We can change the world. We can fix it.”
Brynja stepped away and he released his grip. She opened her mouth to answer but stopped – a pregnant pause that lasted only a heartbeat but felt like an hour. “I-I can’t,” she stammered. “Kenneth, I want answers and I want to help people…to do something with this second chance you gave me. But I need to discover what that is on my own.”
“You disappoint me,” he said coldly. “But I have a feeling you’ll see things my way. In time, everyone will.”
“And if not?” I asked.
Kenneth didn’t reply. He remained focused on Brynja, his lips twisting gently at the corners in a knowing smile. His expression turned my insides to liquid. By the look on Brynja and the detective’s faces, they’d experienced a similar sensation.
“Now if you don’t mind,” he said casually, glancing down at my wrist, “we’ll be on our way.”
With a tap of my com the green lights were replaced with red, and the hum that vibrated from inside the mountain top ceased.
Kenneth offered me a quick nod.
“Detective,” he added. “Best of luck with that investigation. I hope you get your man.”
“I always do,” he sneered.
Kenneth reached out and wrapped one arm around Jonathan Ma’s waist, and another around Valeriya’s. He flashed Brynja one final glace, as if to say, ‘I’ll see you soon,’ before exploding into the sky, disappearing into the distance.
“I cannot see you, my brothers and sisters, and I do not know who you are – but I know exactly what you are. You are slaves. On bended knee, begging the system for approval, for acceptance, for the most meager of sustenance. In return, you receive nothing more than scraps. And you are thankful for even this, because you know nothing else. This is not your fault. You did not ask to be born into this position, and in truth you may have no knowledge that this system even exists. But it is there, with its forceful hand, guiding your every action like a master training its dog. And you are resigned to comply, or face the consequences of your disobedience.”
- Herald of The Order (Darknet Holoforum)
Chapter Twenty-Four
Karin picked us up in the TT-100, and with a jarring flash of purple we were back in Manhattan. A light drizzle streaked from the gray November sky, pattering the cockpit window while we made our descent through the ashen clouds. We touched down on the NYPD’s rooftop hoverpad, the landing gear making contact with the steel platform so gradually we could hardly tell we’d landed. The ramp lowered from its underbelly.
Brynja, the detective and I stepped out into the wind. Dzobiak hiked the lapel of his overcoat up around his head, shielding himself from the rainfall.
“So you’re the human lie detector,” the detective asked. “Was he bullshitting me?”
I shrugged. “You mean about the girl? I think Kenneth knew she was dead, or at least had a suspicion. I don’t think he was responsible for it, though. At least not directly.”
He threw one hand towards the rooftop access door. “What am I supposed to take to the powers that be, man? Help me out here, Mox – help me stop a war. If we put boots on that island and your boy takes a shot at America, it’ll be the biggest international incident since 2001.”
I couldn’t disagree. At least when superhumans were flattening populated cities it was considered a worldwide crisis – there was no flag assigned to any of the destruction, and no one had taken responsibility. The attackers all originated from different nations, none subscribing to any particular religion or group or government. It was bipartisan, non-denominational destruction. There was nothing to rally against, except for general peacekeeping, and the desire to end the violence.
Kenneth allowing the daughter of a well-known American to die on the shore of his island – a particularly brutal death, by the looks of it – would be a cut-and-dry, textbook case of evil that everyone in this country would get behind. At the moment, the media was just presenting the death as an unsolved murder, but information within the walls of a government building gets passed around like water in a leaky bucket. It’s transferred back and forth and, little by little, it tends to spill. A single reporter catches wind of this story and everything would explode – not just in America, but on a global scale. Military action for the United States wouldn’t just be on the table, it would be imminent. Hell, it would be virtually mandatory.
The storm grew fiercer on the eightieth storey. Taking a cue from the detective I grabbed the hood on my sweater, pulling it overhead to block the wind and increasing rain. “I don’t know how he’s going to react and I don’t know if he’ll back down…I don’t even know what he wants.”
“I’ve seen this type of thing before,” Dzobiak said gravely. “My former partner used to work vice; he did ten months undercover infiltrating a cult in west Texas. The cape, the attitude, the way he spoke…your buddy Ken has a messiah complex, man.”
“You don’t know him,” Brynja put in, flipping her fur-lined hood over her head. “He’s not a bad person. He’s just being manipulated by Valeriya – she’s using him. Didn’t you see that?”
The detective shot her a derisive glance. “I don’t care who’s pulling the strings. He’s a big boy, and he’s making his own decisions. The problem is that his power is off the charts, and that’s messing with his mind. He wants what every superhuman wants: more power. This isn’t an isolated incident, you know...The Living Eye, Sultan Darmaki…there are guys like them around the world, gathering armies. And the sheep are flocking to them by the truckload.” He shook his head, staring out across the hazy downtown skyline, before adding, “Fucking superhumans, man…they’re going to be the end of us all. First it was Russia’s Son, now this son of a bitch. We should lock them all in cages and watch them rot. Every single one of them.”
Brynja’s forehead creased, lips parting. Her surprise quickly turned to anger, and the next thought tumbling through my mind wasn’t my own – it was hers, being sent telepathically.
Let’s get back into the goddamned jet, right goddamned now, before I throw your friend off the goddamned roof.
She didn’t need to send me the message
. Her facial expression did a better job of relaying her feelings about the detective’s last comment than her words ever could have.
“Well,” I said sharply, clapping my hands together, “I think we should be getting back to the goddam…er, back to the fortress. We could all use some rest. This has been a lot to process and we need to figure out our next move.”
Dzobiak shrugged his coat back onto his shoulders, buttoning it up. “Yeah, you do that. And if you can get your boy to talk some reason, send up a flare. And we’ll hope it’s not too late.”
“Will do.” I extended an open hand and the detective shook it firmly.
He turned and made his way to the rooftop access door without giving Brynja a second glance.
The sun was cresting over the horizon when we arrived back in the skies above the South China Sea. A shimmering orange sliver was all that remained. As we made our descent it disappeared into the west, casting Fortress 18 into darkness.
We landed on the glowing green hoverpad that topped the remote mountain range. The moment the passenger bay door slid open Brynja raced down the ramp. She was clearly simmering over the detective’s comments and needed some time to decompress. I didn’t bother trying to stop her.
I made my way across the tarmac, into the main lobby and towards the common area. The soccer game had long ended, leaving the pristine white room littered with beer bottles, plates and discarded wrappers. Steve McGarrity sat alone on the circular leather couch wearing nothing more than a pair of black boxer shorts and a wide-open housecoat, with a holo-screen stretched out before him.
When I caught a glimpse of him I winced, taking a backwards step. Then the metallic floor creaked beneath my boot.
“Hey man!” he called out, bolting upright in his seat. “Come on in…I’m watching this new reality show about people who are locked in coffins and get buried for a week.” He shuffled around on the couch, brushing aside empty bottles and cans. He located a pair of unopened beers, holding them up for my inspection with a ridiculous grin. “Drinks are on me!”
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