"That's the word people use whenever they don't understand something," Terry spoke up from ten feet away.
"Could be," said Karen with a smile. "We actually had an applicant with that ability, I understand. They were eager to test her, but didn't get far before she freaked out and quit the program."
"I'm surprised they let her go."
"They didn't. They invoked the AARRA mandatory service rule and attempted to restrain her. She just walked through them to parts unknown."
"Our fancy augcuffs wouldn't hold them then?"
"Doesn't appear so." Karen made a small grimace. "In addition, Harry Farwell has the power to project a dematerialization field. From the images in Brendan Collins' mind, he's a big guy, mountain-man beard, looks like a lumberjack. He got into a tussle with another augment, who ended up with his head sticking out of his own stomach."
Jamie battled a bout of nausea at that image.
"It could've been stuck out of a worse place," Terry offered with a short chuckle. He backed away as the two women stared at him.
"Great," said Jamie. "Anyone else we need to worry about?"
"Their physically strongest person is named Hank. Wiry guy, bald, weaselly face. Plus another guy with a nasty heat ray. A girl, maybe eighteen or nineteen, with very strong and precise telekinetics." She shrugged. "Other than that, the usual augmented suspects. But remember, I'm relying on the thoughts of two children. That doesn't prove there aren't even more powerful people in the group."
Jamie gave her a weary nod. "Well, it's a lot better than knowing nothing. But how are we supposed to fight an 'immaterial'?"
"I have no idea. Maybe the lab people would have some suggestions."
"I could probably teleport him," said Jay.
"It kind of sounds like you and he might share some powers," said Terry. "You both have to dematerialize in some way."
"Yeah. Maybe."
Mort Anderson buzzed on Jamie's cell.
"Talked to the science division, including your, uh, friend Zach. The consensus is that they don't know if Jay can safely teleport another person with him. They believe he can safely transfer a person from point A to point B, if he keeps them in sight."
"That's what he said. So Jay could teleport in and teleport Walsh out."
"That's what I was thinking."
"Or" – she lowered her voice, turning away from the young men and Karen – "it could get Jay killed. Or Damon Walsh. Or both."
"Yup. I'm going to let you make this call, Commander."
"So you can blame me?"
"Nope. So you can grow a pair. You're the leader of Team One. I may not always be there. You have to trust your instincts, make the hard decisions, and accept the fact that people may die. That's the nature of our beast."
"When you put it like that..."
Mort chuckled. "Almost sounds fun, doesn't it? But seriously, Jamie, make the call. I'll be watching."
"Okay, Colonel. I hope you enjoy the show."
Jamie returned to Terry and Telly. There wasn't much left to say. Jay was a smart young man who understood the options and what he had to do. He flicked on the camera sewn into the IED uniforms' front pockets and gathered focus for teleportation. The cameras didn't work "elsewhere," but would resume function on arrival. Jamie, Mort, Sergeant Wilcox and anyone else interested at Headquarters – which included Director Boltman, the science team, and probably Zach – would have front row seats on what happened then. Jamie hoped it would be a short and undramatic show.
Jay relaxed and let the powerful vibrations take him. He had an image of a destination in his mind, but that wasn't necessary. All that was needed was to will motion. In what he thought of as the "Phantom Zone" – he credited Jamie for that name – he could move in bursts short distances or take a leap of faith and blast blindly forward to a destination in his head.
The room faded into a pale, hazy dream. He could see everyone, but they couldn't see him. Or feel him. Nor could he touch or otherwise affect them. He was out of phase with this universe, he assumed, but not so much that he was completely gone or couldn't interact with it – at least visually. He could move - glide, really – within his line of sight, or just launch himself in some direction and pause to course-correct along the way.
Jay willed himself northwest a few miles. That command only had an approximate result, and he wasn't surprised to find himself somewhere in a forest that he guessed was quite a ways from his target. No problem. He whizzed back, slowly enough to keep visual contact with the world. Soon the city outlines swam into view and he braked a bit, passing invisibly over the heads of protesters marching in front of the Bruce R. Thompson Court House and Federal Building.
He was inside the building on the fourth floor, which he'd been told was the operational center for the occupiers. He found several rooms full of people lounging around, drinking coffee or beer, talking and laughing as if they were at a convention or something. Not that he could hear them. No sound crossed into his world. It was like watching a silent movie or television with the mute on.
Jay found Damon Walsh in a room surrounded by grim-faced men in serious conversation. No one was having fun here. Walsh sat maybe ten feet from the windows, whose blinds were closed. The plan seemed obvious and simple: he'd materialize by the windows, part the blinds to get a clear view of the front grounds, then pop Walsh across the street where DARE agents were waiting. Might take all of two or three seconds. What could go wrong?
He drifted to the window straight through the table the men were sitting around. Of course, no one would notice him...
Wait a second. One of the men, a big dude with an even bigger beard, was cocking his head and staring at him. That was a first. Maybe he just happened to be staring in his direction. But no, when Jay moved, his eyes followed him. Oh, shit! This wasn't supposed to happen!
Now the bearded guy was pointing at him and shouting. Jay couldn't hear the words but he was pretty sure he was reading f-bombs on his lips. Not time to figure how this was happening. Do or die.
Jay materialized and teleported Damon Walsh out of the room. He watched the white-haired leader appear on the other side of the street. DARE agents moved swiftly to intercept him.
"You fucking Nazi son of a bitch!" the huge man screamed, thrusting his hands at him.
Time to go. Jay started to dematerialize, but something was wrong. It was like the time he'd been half-drunk and had stuck the wrong key in his apartment door. Something wasn't fitting.
The bearded guy was waving his hands at him as if casting a spell. The Immaterial. Screwing with my process. Jay lashed out. The man appeared to fade for an instant, but then fought back. And now the other people in the room were homing in on him. Any second now he would face a deadly barrage.
I need to leave – or I'll die. That thought had a companion: I'm still three or four times stronger than my former self. Without further calculation, Jay spun and crashed through the window. The front lawn rushed up to greet him. Fourth-floor fall on grass, no problem. He twisted around to land feet-first and braced for impact.
But he didn't land. Telekinetics from DIE agents across the street – Jamie in the forefront – halted his fall and spirited him over to them in a blast of wind. Damon Walsh was being stuffed into a black SUV as he landed.
"You okay?" Jamie asked.
"Fine. Ran into Mr. Immaterial."
"Sounds like my last boyfriend," Belinda Hot Girl snickered.
"He was able to neutralize your powers?" Jamie asked. "Is that why you jumped?"
"Yeah. I might've beat him, but there were others in the room, so..."
Jamie and the rest of Team One eyed the building with uneasy eyes. The augments in the building stared back.
"Well, we got Walsh," said Jamie. "That's a major win. Now if we can convince him he's being used."
"The interrogation unit can be pretty persuasive," said Sergeant Wilcox.
"I think I'll talk to him alone, first," said Jamie. "With Karen Clarkson.
"
JAMIE MET with Damon Walsh in a TSA security room instead of the specially outfitted van the DIE Interrogation Unit used. She thought she'd show the man some respect and hope for a more civilized conversation. Reason would work better than torture with a man like Walsh, and torture didn't sit well with her knowing that he could be under the spell of Thomas Mayes. Better to start off giving him the benefit of the doubt.
"I'm Commander Jamie Shepherd," she said, offering a limp hand to the white-haired AAF. After considerable hesitation and a slight grimace as he were being asked to touch a slimy eel, he shook hands. "This is Karen Clarkson."
The former UND professor gave him a dry smile and nod. Walsh turned from her without a response back to Jamie.
"Congratulations on kidnapping me," he said. "We thought you'd consider that move but we couldn't see how you could accomplish it without bloodshed."
"How did you see all this ending?"
"Full rights restored to all Americans."
"I meant your occupation of the courthouse and federal building."
Jamie noted the flash of discomfort in his face as he lifted his bony shoulders. She couldn't resist a glance at Karen, who sat with a calm air, a pleasant, unrevealing smile on her face.
"With our arrest, I suppose," he said. "Or death. It doesn't really matter. It's a symbolic act intended to show everyone that some of us – many of us – will not accept the dictates of the Morgan regime. And hopefully whatever happens will inspire others to join the resistance."
"You do understand that there are dangerous augmented criminals out there terrorizing people? That people are changing in ways we don't understand that threatens the stability of our world?"
Damon Walsh shook his head. "I see the main threat being too-powerful governments – especially would-be dictators like President Morgan. We can deal with criminals just fine without a prison camps, forced registration, executions without oversight. The nanovirus is just being used as an excuse to finish off freedom in America, which was well underway before the Object crashed on your property, Mrs. Shepherd."
Jamie worked to keep her expression cool. She'd never gotten used to being in the limelight, to having millions upon millions of people know about her. Though neither President Morgan nor any government agency had informed the public about the Object's back-story, intrepid reporters – mostly from alternate news sites – had managed to track down its origins. Being featured in front pages news had fueled probes into her life, and eventually her own story and connection with the Object had emerged in alternative news and on Fox. That story had never been officially vetted – government officials made no reference to her role and refused to answer questions about the Object's "first contacts" – but the cylinder's crash on her property and her subsequent miraculous recovery from pancreatic cancer was now the unofficial story.
"It wasn't that long ago when I was just a normal citizen," she said. "I believed pretty much the same things you do: our government was becoming too big, the Constitution was being trampled on, and something had to be done about it."
Walsh smiled for the first time. A smile with a touch of conspiracy, as if they were secret comrades.
"Then you have doubts about you're doing?" he asked.
"Sure. Don't you?"
"Any thinking person knows he might be mistaken. But I'm betting my life that I'm right."
Jamie had argued enough with people like Damon Walsh – heck, even her dad was like him – to know that she'd never convince him. Especially when she was not sure he was wrong. Maybe they didn't need all these new draconian rules. But at this point, like him, she was willing to bet her life that they did. Sitting by and letting the "New Augmented Order" unfold without controls or oversight seemed crazy. Men like Damon Walsh were ostriches in a lion's den sticking their heads in the ground. Their shiny ideals blinded them to reality. She'd need something different to break through.
"Do you know a man named Thomas Mayes?"
"Not personally. I know he was the one who attempted a coup in the Capitol, using mind-control."
"He's also believed to be behind the epidemic of recent riots in our inner cities."
"So I've read."
"Have you had contact with Thomas Mayes?"
"Not that I'm aware of."
"A tall black man, well-built, goatee?"
Something flickered in Walsh's eyes before he lowered a veil. Jamie and Karen exchanged a quick glance. Jamie didn't need a mind-reader to know Walsh recognized the description.
"We have a few tall, well-built black men in our organization. But none of them are Thomas Mayes."
"Are you sure?"
He gave her a patronizing smile. "Are you aware of Thomas Mayes' politics? He favored special subsidies to African Americans, a $25 minimum wage, and Sharia Law. I'm a Constitutionalist conservative. Do those sound like beliefs that would be welcome in our organization?"
"Assuming he was being honest with you. He could control you without you knowing it. Maybe tell you to seize this building, for example?"
"Young lady, no one 'controlled' me into anything. I've held my beliefs since I was sixteen years old."
"Yes, but that wouldn't stop a man with his powers from using you, would it? He could make you do things that weren't necessarily opposed to your philosophy but would fit his own plans."
Damon Walsh regarded her with barely concealed disdain. "Mrs. Shepherd, the AAF isn't just me. He'd have to control dozens of different people."
"At one point he had control of the President, his staff, and the whole Congress."
"But making us do what we already want to do? What would be the point?"
"Maybe as a distraction? Another avenue to power?"
"What avenue to what power?"
"Well, let me ask you this. Would you be okay with Thomas Mayes exercising mind control on you or your organization, even if you don't know his strategy?"
"I'm not okay with anyone controlling anyone. I believe in personal liberty."
"Then I'll ask you again if you've personally met or know of someone who fits Thomas Mayes' description. Especially a man who fits that description who's met with you recently."
Walsh shook his head and leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest.
"I have a positive I.D.," said Karen. "Thomas Mayes is a high-ranking member of the organization. He's going by the name Leonard Hoffman. Occupying the federal building was his idea."
Jamie couldn't resist a small smile at the shock in Damon Walsh's face. He stared at Karen in terror.
"You – you...can read minds?"
"I plead guilty." Karen was also smiling.
"That's...outrageous! An outrageous violation of personal privacy and liberty!"
"I'm often not too fond of it myself," Karen said with a soft chuckle.
"But it can be very effective for finding the truth," said Jamie. "And now you know an important truth: Thomas Mayes is using you and your organization for his own ends."
Walsh shook his head again, but this time without much conviction. Jamie leaned toward him.
"We need to find and arrest this man, Mr. Walsh. He's cost the lives of hundreds, maybe even thousands. Even you would have to admit he's a criminal. And what could be more dangerous than a criminal with that level of mind-control?"
"Leonard is a true believer in the principles of liberty," said Walsh. "And fully dedicated to the cause."
"Or so he told you. We need to know where he is, Mr. Walsh."
"I don't know."
Jamie looked to Karen, who nodded. He was telling the truth.
"Did you know he'd ordered some children to shoot down our plane?" Jamie asked.
His startled eyes answered. "Children attempted to shoot down a DARE plane?"
"Do you know a Valerie Sparks and Brendan Collins?"
His startled eyes turned horrified. "Yes. They're children of friends of mine. My God, what happened?"
"Five of them attacked our plane with b
eam weapons. We captured Valerie and Brendan."
"Did you hurt them?
"Only enough to subdue them. They're okay. I take it you didn't tell them to do that?"
"God, no. Where are they now?"
Jamie looked to Karen, who shrugged. "I'm not sure. In detention somewhere."
"DARE has special detention facilities for the augmented," said Karen. "Their locations are classified."
"Of course they are. As is the list of augments the government has murdered."
"Those kids tried to murder fifty-some people," Jamie said through her teeth. "The point is you didn't order the kids to do that. The person you claim is a principled believer in liberty did."
"I'm supposed to take all this on faith? How do I know you're not making everything up?"
Jamie fought down an exasperated sound forming in her throat and an urge to grab him by the scruff of his neck. She stood up. "Come with me."
She and Karen walked with him past curious stares from the IED teams lounging about to the windows facing out on the runway, where their hobbled jet still sulked – now in ragged sections without telekinetics holding it together.
"That's what we arrived in. Do you think we did that to our own plane?"
Damon Walsh stared for several long moments, one hand gripping his beard. Jamie watched fear and doubt cross and re-cross his face until he clenched his jaw and smoothed out the creases between his eyes with obvious effort.
"I'm not a man of violence," he said in a quiet rasp. "I taught and practiced anthropology at Arizona State University. I hate the thought of people dying in senseless violence. But there's one thing I hate more: the kind of tyrannical government that institutionalizes senseless violence. We are now living under such a government, Mrs. Shepherd."
Jamie sighed. She barely remembered to throttle down her expulsion of air so that it wouldn't crack the window before them.
"What do you think the government's role should be in this crisis, Mr. Walsh?" Karen's voice held none of Jamie's growing exasperation.
"Add some of the stronger augments to police departments and law enforcement agencies. No need for special organizations or new totalitarian laws. Everyone will be augmented soon enough. There's no more reason to fear the stronger augmented than there is to fear strong people or people with powerful weapons. A soldier could drive a tank downtown and obliterate buildings and people. Why aren't people pulling their hair out with worry over that? Because the fact is, most people are good people and happy to cooperate with sane laws." He shook his head. "No, this new bugaboo about 'augment terrorists' is just another scare tactic by the powers that be to gain power."
Super World Page 26
