As Christmas music blared from the speakers, Sundancer performed her own intricate aerial ballet, spinning and flitting about like a campfire spark. Tommy and John grinned at each other and bellowed Jingle Bells like a couple of fools. For the moment, Tommy could forget about his unrequited feelings, his disenchantment with his job, and his recent behavior.
Instead, he sang Christmas carols in a darkened stadium in July.
#
“Tell me what happened,” said Pony Girl. “Start at the beginning.”
“Don’t you guys have to, I don’t know, do something about the power being out?” asked Gretchen. She hadn’t really thought as far as what to do once she actually made it to Just Cause, and now that she was confronted by the heroes, she felt very small indeed.
“I’m sure this is just a temporary brownout,” said Bobby.
“I hate to tell you this,” said Shane, “but temporary brownouts only happen in sections. A citywide power failure like this…” He whistled. “This is a crisis. Trust me, I work for Con Ed. This isn’t supposed to even be possible.”
“I’ll tell you what,” said Bobby. “You let me ask my questions here and I won’t have you arrested for aiding and abetting. Then when I’m done, we can talk about the power.”
“You’re going to have people stranded in elevators, trapped in subways,” said Shane.
“Shane,” interrupted Gretchen. “Please stop. Let me speak my piece.”
“Hold on,” said Pony Girl. She turned to Shane. “Is it really going to be as bad as that?”
He stared back at the superhero, unflinching under her gaze. “Probably worse.”
Pony Girl whispered something to Bobby and then slipped out of the room in a flash, leaving papers flapping in her wake.
“All right,” said Bobby. “We’re looking into it, but let’s get back to you, Ms. Gumm. Tell me why you’re here exactly.”
Gretchen reached for Shane’s hand and squeezed it to comfort herself. “I kind of… something bad happened, and I don’t know what else to do.”
“Go on.”
“There was this boy. And he was hurting me. He wouldn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop breathing on me.” Her tears flowed unchecked. “I just wanted him to stop breathing on me. And something bad happened, and I know it was my fault. I came here so you guys could help me or something.”
“Had you ever displayed any abilities before that point?”
“No! I swear I never even had any idea!”
“Well, here’s the problem. We’ve got a dead body clearly killed by parahuman abilities, and the law looks very poorly upon that.”
“But he attacked me! He… he r-raped me!” Saying it made her feel ill, but at the same time the admission gave her strength, like she’d named a demon.
“Easy, Ms. Gumm,” said Bobby. “I believe you, and understand why it happened. Stress is often the primary factor in manifestation of parahuman abilities. Yours just happens to be inherently more dangerous than most. The most important thing right now is for you to learn to control that ability before anyone else comes to harm.” He paused. “Has anyone else come to harm?”
“N-no,” sniffled Gretchen. “There was a man who tried to mug me, but I didn’t hurt him. Oh, I blew up a rat.”
“A rat?”
“She was protecting me,” said Shane. “We were in the sewer.”
“I’m sorry, how exactly do you fit into all this?” Bobby’s attention turned to Shane.
“My cousin asked me to meet Gretchen here when she got to New York. She’s been with me all day. She helped me with some work underground and popped a rat that mistook my face for a steak.”
Bobby raised an eyebrow at that. “So you’ve learned some control already? Impressive in such a short time.”
“It wasn’t like that,” said Gretchen. “It was more like a reflex. I didn’t have time to think. The power feels kind of like it has a mind of its own.” She shuddered. “It scares me.”
“Well,” said Bobby. “We’ll do what we can to help you with controlling it, but there’s still the question of the death to answer. Self-defense or not, the Feds take a very dim view of using parahuman abilities to commit any crime, and murder is especially severe.”
“But I didn’t murder him!” cried Gretchen. “I didn’t know it would happen!”
“You did the right thing coming here, to your credit. Mr. Devereaux has a couple of outstanding attorneys on retainer, but given the nature of the crime, defending you will be tricky business.”
“What do you mean?” Shane sat up a little straighter. “Isn’t self-defense still okay?”
“Sometimes,” hedged Bobby. “But it’s going to be tough to defend you as a rape victim. A prosecutor has a good chance to convince a jury you were asking for it.”
“What?” Gretchen leaped to her feet. The power launched out, eager to squish Bobby head like a balloon, and she had to force it aside to shatter a decorative vase behind him. “You think I wanted this?”
“Of course not. I wouldn’t wish that upon anyone, but it’s the reality of the court system. And the Feds have already made up their minds you’re the bad guy here. You’re lucky to have come here before they found you.”
“Oh God,” whimpered Gretchen. “I don’t want to go to jail. I didn’t know it would happen!” She burrowed into Shane’s arms.
“Easy. Nobody’s going to jail yet. You did the right thing by coming here. I have to take you into custody, but I promise you that Just Cause will do everything we can to help you.” Bobby stood and walked around his desk. “You’re free to go, Mr. Clemens, but please don’t leave town in case we need to speak to you.”
Shane shook his head. “I’ll stay here with Gretchen.”
“That’s up to you.”
Pony Girl burst back into the office. She looked flustered and concerned. “Bobby, things have gotten bad in town. We’re needed.”
Bobby turned to Gretchen and Shane. “I’m going to have Javelin keep an eye on the two of you. I trust we’ll have no problems?”
Gretchen shook her head.
“No, sir,” said Shane.
Bobby nodded and then hurried out of the office after Pony Girl.
Chapter Fourteen
July 13, 1977, 10:00 P.M.
“All right, everyone, listen up,” called Bobby over the murmurs of the crowd. “This party is officially over. We’ve got a city-wide emergency to deal with. Power is out across all the Five Boroughs. We’ve got reports of fires and looting all over the city. The elevators aren’t working, so if you want to leave, you’ve got a whole lot of stairs to go down. You’re welcome to stay as guests of Just Cause, but understand it will be as refugees, not party guests.” Bobby gave the crowd a stern look. “Bar’s closed, and I’m detailing security to make sure it stays that way. Just Cause, join me in the conference room.”
The heroes moved from the crowd to the conference room. Faith sat beside Bobby and watched as the other heroes arranged themselves about the table.
“Things have gone to shit, make no mistake about it,” said Bobby. “The entire city’s going berserk. The cops and fire brigades are stuck in gridlocked traffic with the signals down. We’re going to have to pick up the slack. I’ve got to ask each of you to do some difficult things.” His eyes were shadowed, as if exhaustion was already taking its toll. “Rick, I need you here in Manhattan.”
“Got it,” said Lionheart.
“Steel, you’ve got Staten Island by yourself. I realize that’s a huge area, but you’re the fastest flier we’ve got.”
“Affirmative.”
“Irlene, you stay with Faith. You guys will handle Harlem and The Bronx. Stay together. That’s probably the most dangerous part of town. Faith, I need you to deliver radios to Tommy, Gloria, and John. They’re at Shea Stadium or else they’re trying to get back here. I want Tommy and John to cover Queens and Gloria to handle Brooklyn.”
“What about me?” Javier looked unenthusiastic about an
emergency deployment.
“You’re on guard duty. We have the parahuman fugitive from Iowa in-house, and I need someone to keep an eye on her.”
Javier snorted. “Wait, I’m a fucking babysitter?”
“You’re in no shape to deploy,” said Bobby. “But you’ll back up Rick here in Manhattan if he needs it.” He looked across the table at the rest of the team. “I’ll stay here and try to coordinate. Make sure you all have radios. Save lives first, then property if you can. Pace yourselves. There is no backup or relief. And for the love of God, be careful.”
The team filed out of the conference room. Faith hung back long enough to bestow a deep kiss upon her husband. “I love you,” she whispered to him.
“I love you too. Jesus, I’m really scared about this. It hasn’t been half an hour yet and things have regressed into anarchy.”
Faith squeezed his hand, and then followed the others out into the lobby. Lionheart followed Steel to the landing deck. He’d changed into his duty outfit of pirate-style boots, waist sash, and loose-fitting trousers, eschewing a shirt in favor of increased freedom of movement. The Soldier could lower him to the ground, saving valuable time. He looked back once, meeting Faith’s gaze with his own. Unspoken words traversed the distance between them in that moment before he and the Steel Soldier went over the side.
Faith shook herself. Now was not the time to get caught up in her feelings for the tawny team leader. She rushed into the locker rooms and retrieved spare costumes for Tommy and Gloria. “Can you shrink these, and me?” she asked Irlene. “It would be quicker for you to fly me to the ground like the Soldier did Rick.”
“I wish I had some coffee. I think I’m a little drunk.” Nevertheless, Irlene raised a hand. The world grew to towering heights over Faith. She didn’t feel any different, but staring up at Irlene was like standing beside a raspberry-colored skyscraper. Irlene’s truck-sized hand descended with such astonishing speed that Faith stumbled. At her small size, she tripped and hit the ground before she even reacted to the fall. It didn’t hurt in the least, like she was too small to be injured.
“Are you okay?” roared Irlene as her gargantuan hand closed about Faith.
“Yes.” Faith hoped her tiny voice would carry over the distance. “This is really weird.”
“Okay, hang on.” Irlene’s grip was gentle, and Faith found plenty of purchase in the threads of the giant gloves. The world swirled around Faith as Irlene flew off the open deck and spiraled downward toward the dark plaza below. The shadows of Manhattan felt sinister to Faith. Great hulking buildings loomed over her like tangible fear.
Without lights to give her a sense of perspective, Faith became disoriented. When Irlene touched the ground, the shock jarred her so much her teeth clacked together. Irlene set her onto the cement and stepped back. A moment later, Faith returned to her original size.
Irlene bent over and vomited into a nearby flowerbed.
“Jesus,” said Faith. “Are you all right?”
Irlene wiped her mouth with a shaking hand. “I feel a little better.” She burped. “Too much to drink.”
“You need to watch yourself. You’re just a kid.”
The younger girl shrugged. “Did I carry you down okay?”
“That was the strangest thing I’ve ever experienced,” said Faith. “And I was at Woodstock.” She watched as a slow, steady trickle of exhausted folks left the Trade Center. Many of them gasped from the exertion of descending dozens of flights of stairs.
A spark shot off into the sky, heading south, the Steel Soldier headed for Staten Island. A moment later, a bike roared and Lionheart rolled up next to them on his Harley. “Be careful, you two,” he said. His eyes reflected starlight as they looked straight at Faith.
“You too,” she said and turned to Irlene. “Let’s go.”
#
Harlan led Reggie through the darkened streets, which were punctuated by numerous fires. The flames backlit looters as they rushed in and out of buildings with armloads of stolen merchandise. At one point, Harlan saw somebody crash a car right through a storefront to knock down the security gates.
Reggie staggered on behind him, her elephant clutched to her chest and tears running unabated down her dirty face. “Harlan,” she gasped. “I’m so tired. Where’s Momma and Irlene?”
“We’re almost there, Reg.” He pointed down the street. Past a couple burning cars on a block mostly empty of people because the tenements were uninhabited, the junkyard was a shadowy haven. “You’ll be safe there.”
They continued down the street without anyone hassling them. Harlan showed Reggie his secret entrance. He was careful to disengage his security measures; after all Reggie had done for him, it wouldn’t be right for his oversight to allow her to be killed.
After all, he’d promised to protect her.
Darkness bathed the junkyard. Only the stars overhead showed where the piles of crushed cars ended and the sky began. Reggie shrank against him. “It’s scary here.”
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ve got a generator stashed here. I can give you some light, but not too much because I don’t want anyone to come bother you.”
He took her to his Volkswagen Bus-turned-workshop. He shook out a blanket thrown onto a haphazard pile of shredded tires that he sometimes used as a cot. “You can lie down here. I have to take care of some things and then I’ll be back for you.”
“Are you going to find Momma?”
“I’ll try.” Harlan fired up the small generator he’d built from a Datsun motor. A pair of headlights hanging from the van’s roof began to glow. For the first time since leaving the house, Harlan could see the hollow look in Reggie’s eyes.
“Want to see what I built?” he asked.
Reggie nodded and yawned. Harlan went to his giant robot and pulled away the tarpaulins covering it. Like some great movie monster of old, the machine hunched down, folded in on itself, a chrysalis.
He unhooked it from the maintenance bank of batteries and bustled around it, sealing panels and ports with the aid of a flashlight from his tools. In spite of her exhaustion, Reggie watched him work with interest. “What is it?”
“My giant robot.” Harlan struggled and sweated over a recalcitrant fuel cutoff valve.
“What’s it called?”
Harlan paused. “Destroyer,” he said at last. It felt like the right name. If he’d had a bottle handy, he’d have smashed it across the suit’s torso in a christening.
“It looks scary.” Reggie popped a thumb into her mouth.
“It looks that way to keep people from messing with me,” said Harlan. “It’s to keep me safe while I’m inside it.”
“Oh. Are you going to use it to look for Momma?”
“Yes.” Harlan finished his exterior checks just in time; his flashlight was dying.
No reason to wait any longer. “Wait here for me. I’ll be back, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Now this is really important, Reg. You have to stay inside this van, because I’m going to turn on my security systems when I leave.”
“What’s secur’ty?”
“It’ll make sure nobody bothers you while I’m gone, but you have to stay in the van or else you might get hurt.”
She huddled down onto the blanket inside the workshop and stared wide-eyed at him. “Okay.”
Harlan climbed up the exterior ladder over the lower semi cab that housed the engines and hydraulics to operate the heavy, articulated legs. A turntable salvaged from a crawler crane separated the upper cab, from which dangled the four arms. Harlan’s questing fingers and toes found the familiar handholds even in the darkness. He perched on a narrow ledge and swung open the access door into the cockpit. A few lights blinked slow and regular to inform him the systems were standing by.
He pulled shut the door and dogged it tight with a lever handle from an industrial freezer. Even before he settled into the command chair, he started flipping a row of activation switches. Power systems
. Hydraulics. Weapons. Environmental.
Cool, refreshing air from the scrubber system blew in Harlan’s face as he slipped his legs into the suit’s control sleeves and pulled a helmet down over his head. A tiny slide projector sent on-board data onto his visor so he didn’t have to look away from the video screens. The suit had no windows; windows could be breached. Nothing but layer upon layer of armor would be between Harlan and the outside world.
He grasped the joysticks, feeling the suit rumbling to life under his tutelage. All data showed systems nominal. The suit quivered like a racehorse before the bell as it awaited Harlan’s final command to make it operational. He thumbed the starter and two powerful Diesel engines roared to life beneath his feet.
The noise was staggering. He put soundproofing at the top of his list of improvements. The belt around his waist and hips supported enough of his weight that he could move his legs within the control sleeves. He engaged the twin clutches and flexed his legs. The suit rewarded him by lurching upward into a standing position, the stacked semi cabs supported by the heavy hydraulic legs.
He took a tentative step and the suit mimicked his movement, shifting forward several feet. Harlan laughed and moved the joysticks. The suit’s arms raised, lowered, and flexed, first as a unit and then each on their own.
The motion-sensitive cameras spotted Reggie and zoomed in on her. She clutched her elephant wide-eyed, but she didn’t look as afraid of the suit as she had the rioting outside.
He raised the suit’s grasping claw and waved at Reggie. She pulled her thumb out of her mouth long enough to wave back. Harlan smiled and thumbed on his external speakers.
“Stay here, Reg. I’ll be back soon.”
#
Just Cause Universe 3: Day of the Destroyer Page 18
