Not all his knowledge had survived Damon’s death and resurrection, however. Several Words and Sigils had been lost in the process, including the one that had allowed him to travel between worlds. Relearning them would take time, which frustrated him.
“I for one will be happy to go to Cosmic Nerd School instead of dealing with people trying to kill me,” Christine said. “Oh, I also need to testify at John’s trial; I checked the schedule and I’ll have to show up in court about fifteen minutes after the induction thingy. Not looking forward to that.”
“Just tell the truth and follow the advice of John’s attorneys and everything will be fine,” Olivia said.
“I just want to make sure he’ll be all right. I can’t believe it’s been months since the truth came out and we’re still at trial.”
“He will be all right. The US government is just going through the motions at this point. The only reason they haven’t dismissed the charges yet is to avoid the appearance of preferential treatment.”
“Not that anything is going to stop all the anti-Neo dickheads out there from saying Ultimate’s getting away with murder,” Face-Off said.
“That’s the way the cookie crumbles,” Larry Graham replied. “Some people’s ideas will never be shaken by something as flimsy as the truth,” he added with a bitter grin, and Face-Off nodded.
As they said their goodnights, Adam approached Christine. “I’d like to have a word with my niece,” he told Face-Off. ‘Half-sister’ would be the more accurate term, but Christine found it ‘icky,’ so they’d settled for ‘uncle and niece’ as the terms that defined their relationship. Face-Off turned his featureless head toward Christine, and Adam sensed a brief telepathic contact between them, so faint he barely picked it up with his enhanced senses.
“Don’t stay up past your bedtime,” Face-Off said. “Big day tomorrow.” He headed to his quarters.
Adam and Christine rode the elevator to a small terrace in Freedom Hall, one that afforded a slightly less-spectacular view of the island and Liberty City, but which only a handful of high-ranking Legionnaires knew about, making it an ideal place to have a private conversation, doubly so after Adam used a variation of the Word Dim to make sure no artificial sensors could perceive or record them.
“Did you just put up a Cone of Silence?” Christine asked. Adam nodded. “Neat. That’s one of the Words you learned, right?”
He nodded once again. “Once you connect fully to the Codex, you will be able to learn it.”
“That’s one of the gazillion questions I wanted to ask you. Not about a Word in particular, but, like, how many Words are there? And how fast will I learn them all?”
“I don’t know the answer to either question, unfortunately, at least not an accurate answer. I believe there are at least two or three hundred Words in the Codex, and possibly two or three thousand Sigils.”
“It’s not an alphabetic language, then,” Christine commented. “More like Chinese ideograms.”
“I think it’s a combination of the two. Most Sigils have a phonetic component, except that they somehow manage to express meaning for hundreds of different species, some of which do not use sound to communicate. You can write down English words using Sigils, and those words will have power, although not quite as much as the ones in the Wordsmiths’ actual language.”
“Wow. I took a stab at learning Japanese during freshman year, but when I saw just how much time I was going to have to put into it, I gave up. Chicken of me, I know. Which brings me to the other question.”
“How long is it going to take? I learned a dozen Words and as many Sigils over a period of sixty years. I had to overcome the darkness inside me while I did, of course, which slowed down the process. On average, I said it took some ten months of immersive concentration to learn each Word, and about half that for a Sigil.”
“Well, I picked up one Word in about fifteen seconds, except I didn’t really learn it, just sort of skimmed over it and was able to use its simplest form, kinda like baby talk, like knowing ‘Dada’ means the big guy who visits my crib, without really understanding the full concept of fatherhood and all it implies. By the way, do you know how nice it is to be able to go into full techie mode with somebody who will go full techie back?”
Adam had to smile at that. “You have Doc Slaughter to thank for that; that part of me is quite taken with you. I look forward to helping you develop your Genius side along with your connection to the Source.”
“That sounds awesome. Maybe between the two of us we can come up with a workable hypothesis about how the Source works, among other fun stuff. Okay, then. I guess we won’t know how fast a learner I’ll be until we try it. So the next question is, should I wait until I know a few more Words before trying to finally link with the Source?”
“I don’t think waiting is a good idea. Daedalus wasn’t wrong about his projections: he’s known the pace of Neolympian creation has been accelerating at an increasing rate, and he shared his fears with my Kenneth-self, and later with my Damon-self, when I was his involuntary guest two years ago. He was sincere enough, since he didn’t think I was going to live to tell anybody about his plans.”
“Oh. That sounds like a whole big story I’d like to hear.”
“Not much to tell. I was quite insane at the time, and he managed to capture me. That’s when he learned about your existence and my own plans. I escaped, and he left me largely alone until he went after you; that’s when he sent those Russians to look for me.”
“He tortured you,” she said. She could sense his emotions even through his psychic defenses. “I’m sorry, Dad. I mean, Uncle Adam.”
“I shouldn’t have said those things happened to me, even though the memories are vivid enough. My perspective is very different, even if one discounts how insane I was back then.”
“This is way complicated, but I guess it’s not important right now. What you’re saying is that the rate of Neo creation is already too fast.”
“The Republic of China has quadrupled the number of Type Threes in its army in under two years. That means it’s very likely that there are over a dozen more Type Threes – and maybe one or two Type Fours, God help us – out in the world, each one with the potential to be an existential threat. Six months from now, those numbers could double. In a year, they might grow tenfold. At that point, Daedalus predicted millions of deaths just from casual interactions between inexperienced Neos of such power levels, and much worse if even a few of them become insane or lose control over their powers.”
“Okay, I hear you. At the very least, I need to put a moratorium on new Neo births or whatevs. I hope it’s as easy as telling the Source to chill the eff out for a bit. After that, maybe I can try to turn off the juice for any Neos that are too d-baggy to trust with that kind of power. The Iron Tsar and the Emperor, for one, or two, I guess.”
“If you do so, there will be consequences. Depowering either of those men will create a massive political vacuum, leading to chaos in their spheres of influence: civil war, or worse. Millions could die.”
“Crap. You do know the Tsar is not a nice guy at all, don’t you?”
“I know. He’s also maintained stability in the region for several decades. Even the Emperor was not the worst thing that could have happened to China. You’ve told me the about such atrocities in your world as the Great Leap Forward in Communist China, which led to almost fifty million deaths. Nothing the Dragon Empire has done comes close to that.”
“Yeah, it’s weird. I’ve done more reading since things settled down, and it looks like both Russia and China did a lot better than in my universe. Stalin didn’t get to kill anywhere near as many people here, because the Ukrainian rebellion kept him in check. And you had no Mao, no Cultural Revolution, and so on, and all the Asian Wars combined – including the Chinese Civil War, the Japanese occupation and so on – killed less than fifteen million people total, which isn’t great but it is, horribly enough, a lot less than what we got in my super-less
world. Not sure what that says about humanity in general.”
“It does say one thing: you need to think carefully about what you do with your power.”
“Okay. So what if I do the ‘new hiring freeze’ bit and wait and see what happens before doing anything else?”
“I think that would be wise. After the immediate problem is dealt with, we can gather together the best minds on the planet, Neo and human, and try to come up with a proper solution. We can offer you advice, although the final decision is going to be in your hands.” And there will be many who object to that, he didn’t say out loud. Those objections might be quite lethal.
“Awesome, not. I still have nightmares about my glimpse of the future where I went evil. I killed everybody, Uncle Adam, except for a few million slaves I kept around as toys.”
“I know. I think your alternate self saved you from that fate merely by showing it to you, which wasn’t the case with the alternate that she faced.”
“Except I don’t know if the warning will be enough. I could still be on a similar course, thinking I’m doing the right thing and screwing up. Every morning, I spend fifteen minutes going over my aura, looking for any hints the Outside energy has contaminated me. I’m clean so far, but I still worry.”
“We can only wait and see. Keep an eye on Mr. Martinez, since according to your doppelganger you damned yourself by trying to save him.”
“I don’t know if I can stop myself from trying to save him, if it comes to that,” she said.
Then perhaps Mr. Martinez should be removed from the equation. The cold thought elicited little enough emotion, so Christine didn’t sense it. Both his Trent and Slaughter sides understood that sacrifices were necessary. Perhaps an accident could be arranged.
And doing so risks unhinging her at a critical time. The sheer power she will soon have access to is corrupting enough, and Mark Martinez appears to serve as an anchor of sorts for her. Removing him might be as risky as letting him be.
“Penny for your thoughts, Uncle Adam.”
He shrugged. “I was trying to think about a solution, but we truly do not have enough information. For all we know, your actions since your visit to the alternate future have already derailed the chain of events leading to it. Chaos theory suggests that’s the case.”
“Sure be nice if we knew for sure.”
“If the future were knowable, it would by definition be immutable. I don’t think that’s a desirable state.”
“True dat.”
Face-Off
New York City, New York, May 22, 2013
I said the words and swore the oath again, and after the ceremony was over, I paraded around for the paparazzo in my new costume, which was based off the Legion Auxiliary Forces’ battle fatigues, with a few flourishes added on, nothing too exciting. The whole thing only took an hour or so, but it bored me to tears.
After the induction ceremony, I kissed Christine goodbye and flew off to New York to visit Condor and Kestrel before my interviews. I could have flown there on my own, but my top speed was just under four hundred miles per hour, which meant it would have taken me over four hours, and the mental effort to continuously push myself through the air was not something I’d enjoy doing for four hours. Instead, I took a ride on a nice anti-grav orbital shuttle that dropped me off in the Big Apple in seventy minutes, and then I flew from the landing pad in LaGuardia to the new Condor’s Perch, on top of the Guardian Building.
It was my first time flying by myself over New York, and my first time in the city since the whole bomb mess. A news chopper came a little too close for my liking; they must have been having a slow enough day that some footage of flying faceless me was worth their trouble. I waved politely at them, repressing my impulse to give them the finger, and flew on.
Another flying figure came up to meet me: Star Eagle of the Empire State Guardians. Last time I’d seen him, he’d been beaten into a coma and hogtied with his own handcuffs. Since I’d been the responsible party for both those things, I wondered if he was going to do something about it. A Guardian would probably not be stupid enough to assault a Legionnaire in full view of God and radar, but Star Eagle had never been the sharpest crayon in the box.
My comm implant beeped, alerting me of an incoming call from the Guardian. Against my better judgment, I accepted it.
“What the hell are you doing here?” It was Star Eagle, all right.
“Just dropping by to visit Condor,” I replied pleasantly. Asshole.
“You’ve got balls, showing your face around here after all the shit you pulled.”
“Big misunderstanding. Didn’t you get my signed apology letter? I sent a personalized copy to each and every one of you.”
The prick was flying alongside me now, close enough I could see his glaring eyes behind his golden helmet. “Fuck your apologies. You’re not welcome at the Guardian Building.”
“I was invited by your newest member, bud. So unless you’re going to stop me, and trust me, you’re going to need a lot more than you’ve got to do that, I’ll see ya there. Do you want me to drop by your landing pad or just fly directly into Condor’s crib?”
“I don’t know how you bastards pulled it off but…”
We’d reached the Guardian Tower by that point, and I figured it was pointless to continue that conversation, so I hung up on him and flew towards the Condor Perch. Star Eagle didn’t try to stop me, which showed more sense than I’d given him credit for; if he made the first move he’d be guilty of assaulting a Legionnaire, not exactly a good career move. He’d probably hoped I would start a fight so he could have an excuse. Star Prick and the rest of the Guardians didn’t have to be friendly towards me, not in private at least; in public all costumed supers were supposed to be a big happy family. The hypocrisy of the whole setup was proving to be damn annoying.
I forgot about the Guardian and flew towards the Condor’s Perch. The high-tech thirty foot tall spire on the roof of Guardian Tower had been finished two weeks ago. As I approached, a door slid open, and I let himself in.
Both from the inside and outside, the Perch looked much like the old Lair, which was still operational after the FBI and NYPD gave it back, although supposedly they had trashed a lot of it during their no-knock raid on the premises. The Perch was all metal surfaces and high-tech furnishings, just the way its builder and resident liked it.
“Good to see you, man,” Condor said as I came to a stop and landed somewhat awkwardly on my feet. I still hadn’t worked all the kinks involved in flying. We shook hands and traded shoulder slaps. “I overheard Star Eagle. Sorry about that.”
He led me to a nicely-furnished rec room, complete with a well-stocked bar. “The prick’s still sore about the two beatings he’s taken from me,” I said as I helped myself to some fancy beer. “No big deal.” We sat down and relaxed while we talked.
“It was damn stupid for him to try and pick a fight with you, now that you’re a Type Three. From your score, you could take down the entire Guardian roster, myself included.”
I shrugged. “Maybe we can do some friendly sparring at some point. How about you, bud? How are the Guardians treating you?”
He shrugged right back. “Nobody likes the way the Mayor shoved me down their throats. The Post is up in arms about it; they have been trumpeting the fact I was a major contributor to the guy’s campaign last election, among other things. Kestrel got a full pictorial in the same issue they accused me of buying my way into the Guardians; they were nice pics, including some very naughty shots they had to cover up with those little black squares. It sort of backfired on them, because she actually enjoyed the publicity and she’s got more fans than ever. But yeah, there’s been a lot of ruffled feathers.”
“Self-righteous pricks,” I grumbled. “You and I have put away more criminals than all the Guardians combined.”
“Ah, but you see, the Guardian’s mandate is not to fight street crime. Our job is to stand by for major emergencies and otherwise look pretty for
the cameras.”
“Which means sitting on your collective asses twenty-nine days a month while murderers and rapists do their thing. What a great gig.”
“You’re in the same boat, Face. Do you think the Legion’s going to let you sweep the streets? Any streets? New York is nowhere near the worst crime spot out there. But they aren’t going to have you patrol Bogota looking for purse snatchers, either.”
“Maybe I should do it anyway, clean up New York once and for all. I could pick up every dope dealer in the city and dump them on Hudson Bay – from five hundred feet up – in one night. Then do the same in Detroit, Chicago, Bogota, wherever.”
“Yeah, and they’d all be replaced the next night.”
“So I’ll rinse and repeat till they get message.”
“And you’ll end up with a few hundred first-degree murder charges to deal with,” Condor said. “Not going to happen, Face. And you know what? It’s probably for the best. At your power level, you can do too much damage by accident. When we were on the streets, we could take our time and make sure the people we were putting away had it coming. You try to do it wholesale, civilians are going to get caught in the crossfire. Not a good idea, man.”
“Yeah, I supposed you’re right,” I admitted. “And Christine wouldn’t like it anyway.”
Condor made a whipping motion with one hand.
“Fuck you, and look who’s talking,” I told him. “Speaking of whips, how’s your better half?”
“She’s having more issues than me. I couldn’t get the Mayor to shove her down the Guardians’ collective throat, and she wouldn’t have wanted to join up, either. Melanie just doesn’t play well with others. So we’re not seeing each other as much as we’d like; she just hates coming up here.”
New Olympus Saga (Book 3): Apocalypse Dance Page 18
