Kali spat. She couldn't help it. As much as she'd grown to enjoy this newfound body and its incredible power it bestowed, she actually felt soiled by what she was learning about its origins. “Can I take this thing off?"
He shot an enigmatic look at Athena. “Maybe,” he told her. “Some can be removed, others bond for life. If you wish it to be gone and it doesn't remove itself, you're pretty much stuck with it. Unless you encounter a sym-killer, of course.” He added this last with a slight smile.
"So these things are behind the goblins and the other weirdness going on?"
"Only indirectly—as far as the goblins go,” Athena answered. “We believe they were created by someone else ... someone we have other reasons to go after. They were once human children, genetically altered by a combination of science and magic."
"Magic? You're not telling me magic is real ... are you?"
Her skepticism struck an odd note. “That's how you became female in the first place,” Breed interjected with a grin. “Poetic justice, really. You pissed off the vector for the Arcane virus—the metavirus intended to return the ability to work magic to the human race."
"Those of this Earth, anyway,” Thoth murmured.
Kali ran her thick black nails over her bald head. The sensation seemed to clear her mind. “All right. Then what do you want from me?"
"Knock off the bullshit,” Athena answered abruptly. “Believe me—if you don't want any part in the Centian plans, we don't need you fucking up everything just because you get a wild hair up your ass. The Centians have at least two operatives that we know of, maybe more. Soon there's likely to be a whole bunch more. They don't tend to do things in half measures.
"You don't have to help us ... but we can't afford to have you in the way all the time either. You taking command of the local goblins has actually been helpful—it keeps their original masters from using them for whatever they have planned."
Kali digested this and growled audibly. “Unbelievable. Sounds like I've been helping you without even trying."
"We'd rather have you doing it on purpose,” Athena replied. She lowered her weapon. “We don't have to be friends, Kali, but..."
"Under this—” She made a gesture indicating her new form. “I'm still a human being, I guess. I can't serve everybody up for the bugs’ buffet."
"Glad you feel that way,” Nemesis murmured. “Johnny—"
"—call me Kali,” she interrupted. “Johnny Gitano is as good as dead. Wasn't really worth a fuck anyway."
Sarah snorted. “You said it. I didn't."
"Would've been true anyway,” she admitted. “Even if Athena hadn't been doing everything she could to screw with my plans, I probably never would've been able to gain control of Tacoma's underworld. Too many people saw me as a joke."
"I think the only person who saw you as a joke was you. And, if it's any consolation, I doubt anyone sees you as a joke now.” Athena motioned for Sarah to put her pistol away. She hesitated, then did so.
"It is, I suppose.” Kali sighed. “Some evil mastermind I turned out to be."
"Kali, then.” Nemesis shook her head sadly. “As long as I can remember, you—Johnny—were a prick. Why? What happened to you? I know you weren't born that way."
"Born evil? Now there's a thought.” Kali uttered a bitter laugh. “You girls in the house were lucky—or, I guess—you would have been lucky if Mr. Gitano hadn't already fucked me up by the time you got there. They adopted me when I was five.” Her huge hands knotted at her sides, knuckles lightening to a dark red color as she squeezed the nails into her skin. “I was seven when he started taking me out ‘camping'. I think Mrs. Gitano—'Mom'—suspected something ... when they started fostering, she never chose boys. ‘Dad’ didn't like little girls, apparently.
"It was too late by then, wasn't it? Shit. You might find this hard to believe, Sarah, but I'm sorry.” Kali was surprised to discover that she meant it. “I made all of you my toys the way he made me his."
"An awful lot of crime stems from childhood abuse,” Sarah murmured. “Physical, emotional, or sexual. Johnny, we never had any idea."
"You weren't supposed to,” Kali growled. “Keeping you scared of me meant you didn't have time to think about anything else—to wonder why ‘Dad' snuck into my room almost every night. It stopped when my voice began to change and I started growing hair.” She gave another dry, bitter chuckle. “You would've thought that would have made me happy, right? No ... it was like a rejection. That was the only attention I'd ever gotten from either of them. ‘Mom’ seemed to consider me soiled ... she played at being Mrs. Cleaver, but...” She shrugged. “Deep down I'm not sure she didn't despise me for letting him do that to me."
Sarah's face had gone pale, eyes like ice chips shining out of her skull. “What happened to Mr. Gitano?"
Kali shook her head. “I don't know. I figured you'd know, since I left before I turned fifteen. You stayed for a couple more years."
Sarah nodded. “They started fighting all the time. I finally convinced my caseworker to get me and the other girls out of there. Then they just ... disappeared."
Kali could feel anger and hatred radiating from her in pulsing waves. “If I could find him now, I'd make him disappear. Permanently.” She turned her eyes to Athena once again. “I'm done here. You done with me?"
Athena nodded. “Go forth and sin no more."
Thoth let go an undignified snort. Kali just nodded and walked out. She found her goblin troupe milling around outside, clearly afraid to go in. “You guys are pathetic—but I guess you can't really help it. C'mon, we're going home."
"Champagne!” one cried.
"Caviar!” hooted another.
She'd promised them goodies. Sometimes bribery was the only thing that worked. If you dosed them with too much fear, they were even more likely to go off and do something stupid. “Okay, okay. We can stop by a store and pick up a few bottles of Brut on the way home."
She was surprised to find herself whistling as they made their way up the street.
* * * *
Thoth turned to Athena after Kali had gone. “Very well. I will teach the mortals you send to me—at least until one or more have learned enough to take over. But on one condition. You immortals will also study magic with me."
This gave Athena a start. “What? I'm not really that interested in—"
"Didn't ask that,” Thoth interrupted. “My first group of students is going to be immortals—or no one."
Athena glared. “I don't like being dictated to, Thoth."
"Not dictating. It's called making a deal. I simply have the upper hand. I've got something you want."
"Fine,” she sighed. “When do you want to start?"
"Let's wait until after your New Year's bash.” Thoth was picking up modern idiom a lot quicker than she would have expected. He was also loosening up considerably, she noted. At least now his demeanor didn't quite match his monkish look.
"That works for me,” Athena told him. “Any luck on the search for Hermes?"
"I've still got tracers out. Only a few have come back, which is actually a good sign. Means they've found traces of him and are following those leads now."
"Perfect. Thanks for being here, Nemesis,” Athena told the blond cop. “This could've been a real mess if she had've shown up in the middle of everything."
"That's what I figured. She's really rather pitiable, isn't she?"
Athena gave her a astonished glance. “I thought so, but didn't expect you to agree. You've got history—I'm not going to pry too much into it, but I can make some guesses."
"Johnny Gitano was a nasty piece of work, even as a kid. Being transformed like he has seems to have changed him for the better—oddly enough. Did it strike you as odd that he—she—turned so quickly?"
"Chances are it was lurking under the surface the whole time,” Athena told her. “It might have been some sort of chemical imbalance caused by the childhood trauma—something the symsuit has since healed,�
� she added with a shrug. “Seemed sincere enough."
She clapped her hands together. “Okay. Let's get to work. We've lost an hour of set-up here. I want things back on-line by noon."
* * * *
The whole thing went off without a hitch. Athena felt somehow grateful to the row of mostly silent men and women who filed in through the line. Originally she'd planned to go all-out, but wiser heads had prevailed. They wouldn't be able to handle the rich foods she'd first put on the menu. Simple, filling, but tasty food was the order of the day, she was told.
She could hear Marie Antoinette's voice saying ‘let them eat cake’ as she watched them file past, eyes hooded, stiff mistrust in their postures. A few of them caught on to the spirit of the season and smiled and wished her a ‘Merry Christmas’ as she doled out slices of ham and turkey.
What really got to her were the kids—too many of them. Some came with parents, others showed up by themselves ... young thieves and hustlers, some barely into their teens. It made Athena's stomach twist just a little to watch them come through the line, eyes already hardening into organic data-scanners, reading and evaluating everything they saw in terms of what they could get out of it.
The world would only get worse for these ones—the chaos to come would likely see some of them dead, and it wasn't unlikely that those would be the luckiest of them.
A little girl of about four, hands wrapped tightly around one of her mother's hands, stared up at her with eyes so bright they were almost reflective. Her deeply bronzed skin and tousled crown of black curls revealed her Arab heritage nearly as well as her mother's traditional garb. The woman watched her with a deep wariness, as if anticipating some sort of trap.
"Turkey?"
"Yes,” the woman said. “No pork, please.” Her English was good, but thickly accented.
"Of course.” Athena tried out a smile. “However you like it."
The woman seemed a bit puzzled by the smile, but, behind the veil, Athena thought she could see the traces of a return smile. She wanted to trust someone, wanted it very badly.
The little girl showed faint signs of some severe trauma as well, hidden however unsuccessfully behind a child's natural innocence. Looking at the mother, at the fear mixed with determination in her almond eyes, Athena could guess what might have happened to the child. It turned her stomach. Only one thing could put that darkness in a child's eyes.
A lone tear trickled down her cheek as she watched them continue down the line. You can't save everyone, Athena. The voice was Shea's, and so typical of him that she almost laughed.
"Hard to look at, isn't it?” She felt Nemesis's hand on her shoulder. “Seeing something like that—it's one of the reasons so many cops turn hard. They can't deal with the fact that you can't save the innocents, and too many of the guilty are saved by the system's flaws."
"Fuck the system,” Athena growled. “I have my own system—and I'll be damned if I'm going to let anyone slip through the cracks. Screw you, Deryk. Maybe I can't save everyone. But not to try ... that's just fucking criminal. “Take that woman aside before they leave. Give her my card with my private office number. If she needs to get away from something, if she wants to protect her daughter, she can give me a call."
Nemesis shook her head. “You're asking for trouble there, Athena."
"Yeah, maybe I am. But I've had trouble before. Try carrying around your head in a box for a month."
"No thanks."
"Have it your way. Just give her my card."
* * * *
Once it was all over, and she'd rolled up her sleeves and pitched in to help with the cleanup, Athena retreated upstairs to Shea's suite. My suite now, she thought, closing the door behind her. She desperately needed some alone time, a chance to relax and reflect. So much had happened in such a short time.
Time seemed to be accelerating, a particularly strange sensation for a being who'd already lived twenty-five thousand years. For so long they'd been able to take the long view. Not anymore. Infinite time was a luxury that had vanished when the Creeper had been captured.
She hadn't thought about that thing in months. Still in their little holding pen, she assumed. It wasn't as though the thing could starve, or die of dehydration. They were alive, but not really in that sense.
She drifted over to the balcony door, stared out over the bay. The snow had stopped several hours before, leaving behind a thin blanket that still covered most of the rooftops. A few ships and smaller boats navigated the entrance to the Foss channel, but, for the most part, the city seemed to be holding its breath.
I know the feeling. She picked up the stereo remote and cued a Joshua Bell CD. As the soft strains of violin filled the room, she turned away from the balcony door and padded across the soft blue carpet. Was Deryk as on top of things as he seemed, or was that part of his mystique he cultivated deliberately?
At first she'd only understood that he'd handed her his company, and command of the surviving immortals—whatever that was worth. In the end, she realized, he'd handed her the fate of a whole world. The future of this Earth depended on her and her rag-tag group of followers. A handful of immortals, a para-human cop, a vampire, and a half dozen more or less reluctant superheroes. I don't know who's crazier—him for dumping this on me, or me, for thinking I even have a chance to pull it off.
Not like any of us really have a choice.
She spent the rest of the day simply puttering around the apartment, doing nothing in particular, just whatever she could find to occupy both her hands and her mind at the same time. She found secluded little spots to clean behind the appliances in the kitchen, washed the balcony doors and the windows, and poured over the newspaper for nearly an hour.
Hades still hadn't contacted her again. That bothered her. He'd sounded so determined when he'd spoken to Loki—or, at least, that had been the impression he'd given her. Maybe he's just insane, she mused. That would explain it. Having the power to animate the dead and make people forget you even exist—those might tip the wrong kind of mind the right way, straight over the edge into loony-town.
They also hadn't heard a peep from their vampire escapee. She didn't even want to consider what he might be up to currently. Spreading the vampire metavirus all over the city, if not the state. There could be dozens of the things by now.
Dammit, Loki, I wish—for once—you'd think things through before you just went ahead and did them.
She'd already told him as much. He responded with a casual shrug, like he was asking did you really expect me to do anything else?
Love had changed him, but not enough. Having one of his experiments fail, but succeed so successfully on another level, hadn't helped matters any. There has to be a way to rein him in. I could use Renee, I suppose, but even considering the way he feels about her, he doesn't seem to take suggestions from that direction any better.
And she's missing the healthy dose of pragmatism which would make her amenable to some of my more ... difficult ... decisions.
Damn the both of them, anyway. I wish I could dump more of these responsibilities on their laps, see how they handle them.
The thought was tempting, but she pretty much knew what the result would be. Or, at the very least, suspected that a lot of important things would fall by the wayside.
She finally curled up on the sofa in front of the sixty-three inch HDV (High-Definition Video) set half-watching an action flick with most of her attention still turned inward. She desperately needed to find a way to de-stress ... something she hadn't stumbled upon in the multitude of centuries she'd been alive. Little chance she'd happen upon it now.
Seventeen
The slivered moon hung bright and low in the clear winter sky. Feet crunching in the heavy snow beneath his boots, Loki crept up to the tall cyclone fence. It stretched a good eight feet by itself, topped by two different swirls of Constantine wire—one facing inward, the other outward.
Ozone stung his nostrils. The fence was also electrified. He turned
back toward the stand of trees several yards away and motioned the others forward. The first to emerge was Renee, looking like a latex fetishist's wet dream as she trotted casually across the snow pack. She had her dark hair bound into a single thick braid behind her. He'd convinced her to spread shoe polish across her luminous face—the moonlight, under normal circumstances, lit her face like a white ceramic mask.
Behind her came Matt Frye, slogging through the snow as if it was the most onerous task he could imagine. If anyone wasn't gung-ho about this whole thing, it was the guy who called himself ‘The Burning Man'. He wasn't all too thrilled about being part of the world's first superhero team, and absolutely loathed the black and silver uniforms Loki had supplied. If it weren't so well insulated, and guaranteed to stop small arms fire, he would've flatly refused to wear it.
Loki had synthesized them from the samples Thoth had brought him. They weren't symsuits, exactly, but were based on the technology. The idea was that, if necessary, they'd be able to adapt to their wearer's meta-human abilities. Matt could light up without melting the damn thing, which was one of the prime things he'd been after in the first place. Most clothing would simply melt away, leaving him naked when he finally doused his flames.
Hardly the image anyone had of a superhero.
Behind Matt came Casey Falk—code-named ‘Mongoose'. She moved across the snow nearly as swiftly as Renee, the reflected moonlight playing across the light fur covering her still beautiful face. She crept up to stand beside Matt and Renee, shooting Loki a wink. He still couldn't get over how easily she'd handled being so visibly mutated. She was still gorgeous, of course, but no longer exactly human. Her modeling career had ended the day she contracted the virus.
Mortals are infinitely adaptable, he considered, pushing a hand within inches of the fence. Tiny jolts of electricity leaped between the steel and his fingertips. Ouch. He stuck the fingers in his mouth. Pushing enough juice to stop a charging rhino.
The last four members of the team crossed together. Juneau, the giant humanoid with bark-like skin and a tangled mass of green hair like moss flowing down from his scalp, trundled along in the lead. A few paces back, still managing to make the sized-to-fit uniform look like it was hanging off of him, came Leo. He blinked at the fence a few times and turned a grin on Loki. “This is going to be fun."
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