Abby said, “James—the wall!”
“Got it. Cover your eyes.”
She felt his muscles tense for a moment, heard what sounded like rapid gunfire, and when she opened her eyes again, a four-foot-wide ring of three-inch holes had appeared in the wall. “Brawn?”
A growl rose from the giant. He raced past Abby and James and threw himself shoulder-first at the wall. The weakened circle of foot-thick reinforced concrete was smashed through into the building.
“Go for it!” Brawn yelled. He stepped back, jumped, and landed on the roof.
James let go of Abby as they reached the opening. She hit the floor, rolled, and came up on her feet. They were in the complex’s sleeping quarters, a large dormitory containing thirty lockers and the same number of bunks, many of which had been crushed by flying lumps of concrete.
“Where’s the machine?” Abby asked.
“The largest room. Straight down the corridor.”
Abby tore the steel leg from one of the ruined bunks as James destroyed the dormitory’s doors with a sonic blast.
James whispered, “Four men outside. Armed.”
“I can take four,” Abby said.
“No need.” James concentrated. “They’re down.”
Abby stepped into the corridor. The Praetorian soldiers were lying on the ground, their arms and legs waving and twitching.
“I messed with their sense of balance,” James said. “They think they’re falling. They’re screaming too, but I’m blocking that.”
From somewhere above came the sounds of gunfire, then shouts of panic.
“Krodin?” Abby asked.
“No, just Brawn beating up the Praetorians with other Praetorians. Krodin’s…He’s in the teleporter room. Looks like you’re the one facing him. Just keep him busy long enough for me to destroy the machine.”
They took off down the corridor and found that the doors to the teleporter room were open. They skidded to a stop.
Krodin was standing, arms folded and with no sign of concern on his face, next to what she assumed was the teleportation device.
The machine was much smaller than Abby had expected. She’d imagined something the size of a bus, a complex piece of machinery covered in lights and wires. Instead, it wasn’t much bigger than a refrigerator.
A group of twenty men and women were standing behind Krodin. Some were soldiers; most looked to be technicians. One of the soldiers spun around, aimed his rifle at Abby.
Krodin reached out and gently pushed the gun aside. “That’s not necessary, Remington.” He smiled at Abby and patted the top of the machine. “Here it is. But to get to it, you have to get past me.”
Abby muttered to James, “Now!”
“I’ve already tried a dozen times,” James whispered back. “It’s not working.”
Krodin put his hands into his pockets and casually walked back and forth in front of the machine. “I’m waiting. Go on. Do something spectacular. Something heroic. I know—James, use your sound-manipulation ability to blast the teleporter into atoms.” Krodin smiled. “You can’t, can you? Abigail, why don’t you make a run at it? Smash it to pieces with that lump of steel in your hands.” He stepped aside. “I’ll give you one free shot. Go on.”
He strode toward them.
“It won’t work,” Krodin said. “You might scratch the paintwork, but that’s OK. This thing doesn’t have much of a resale value anyway.” He laughed. “And now you’re wondering whether I have another power-damping device, yes? No, there’s only one, and it’s still chained to Max’s wrist. And Max is on the run, right? Desperately splashing through the bayou, keeping the power-damper out of range of this building. Even without his powers, he’s a resourceful man, more than capable of outrunning my men long enough for you to destroy the teleporter. Even if they’ve already found him, they wouldn’t have been able to bring him back so quickly.”
Abby felt a knot tighten in her stomach. “No…”
“Yes. I’m not an idiot, Abigail. The power-damper has a transmitter that allows us to know its exact location at all times.”
She heard dragging footsteps in the corridor behind them, and turned to see Max—soaking and splattered with mud from the waist down—standing between two Praetorian soldiers.
Krodin said, “Why would I send my men out to bring in Dalton when I have a perfectly good teleporter right here beside me?”
Max was dragged into the room and thrown to the floor at Krodin’s feet.
Krodin crouched down and held up the power-damper, which was still attached to Max’s wrist. “We have our late friend Casey to thank for this. Tell them how it works, Remington.”
Remington cleared his throat and said, “It, uh, it strips away the energy that makes you superhuman. It’s just temporary, though. When it’s switched off, you get your powers back.”
Krodin let go of the device and hauled Max to his feet. “And who took Casey’s design and made it work?”
“Cord.”
“Solomon Cord,” Krodin said, smiling. “My favorite human.” He leaned close to Abby and in a fake whisper said, “You’re my second favorite, but don’t tell anyone.”
Remington said, “Casey was hoping that he could come up with a way to harness—”
“Shut up, Remington,” Krodin said. “Your bit’s over. So, James and Abigail. Your cerulean companion is at this moment on the roof wondering why he’s not so bulletproof anymore. Or he’s dead and not wondering anything. Remington, organize a squadron comprising whatever men are still standing and able to pull a trigger and get Brawn down from the roof. You’ll probably need ropes and hooks. I want him on the landing pad. If he tries to escape, your men are to immediately open fire.”
Krodin resumed his pacing back and forth. “It’s traditional, at times like these, to ask the prisoners a question. Which of you should I kill first?”
At the same time, both James and Abby said, “Max.”
Krodin suddenly laughed, the deep, honest belly laugh of a man genuinely amused. “I like that. That’s great. But I can’t kill Max—he’s useful to me. For the moment. No, it has to be one of you two, or Brawn if he’s not already dead.”
Abby took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Can I ask you something? Something personal?”
“Fire away.”
“It’s not really a question so much, more an observation. You’re the loneliest man in the universe, aren’t you? Everyone you ever meet is going to die before you do. Back on the Carrier you told me to think of you as a force of nature. If that’s so, then Mother Nature really has it in for you. And you told me to take the long view—that what you’re planning will be better for the human race, in the end. But if you are really taking the long view, then nothing you do here matters. Nothing. You could sit on a rock for a billion years and get the same result. The human race won’t last forever. Nothing does. No matter what happens, no matter what you do, in the end you’ll be alone.”
“Housten’s coming back,” Brandon called. “Someone get the hatch.”
Lance moved to the hatch and hit the control to open it. Suzanne Housten was floating outside, keeping pace with the craft. The sleeves of her black jacket and sweater had been shredded to ragged, flapping strips, revealing the mass of deep cuts and dark bruises on her arms. “Give me a hand, kid.”
Lance avoided catching her gaze as he reached out to grab Suzanne’s arm. He hadn’t wanted to see this woman again but had to admit that he was glad she’d made it.
Housten glared at Cord. “Raptor hit me point-blank. I was stunned, falling. But I saw you—you didn’t come after me.”
“I couldn’t save both you and Roz. I chose the one who hadn’t been planning to kill me.”
“And you,” Housten said to Brandon, “when the Praetorians dropped back, you kept going. You should have waited for us!”
“Why don’t you complain more?” Lance asked. “It’s fun listening to you.”
“Enough!” Roz said. “Brando
n, what’s our ETA?”
“Forty-four minutes.”
“All right. You’ve been there?”
“Many times.” He looked up from the cockpit’s screens. “They know we’re coming.”
Housten said, “They’ll shoot us down before we get anywhere near it.”
“I know a few tricks. I can get us pretty close. Certainly within walking distance.”
Cord sat down in the co-pilot’s seat. “You sure about that?”
Brandon grinned. “Trust me.”
Then Lance asked, “Who are you?”
Everyone turned to look at him.
Ten-year-old Joshua answered: “He’s Brandon. Max’s pilot. You know that. Brandon Santamaría.”
Lance nodded briskly. “Yeah, yeah. But who are you really, Brandon?”
Roz began, “We don’t have time for—” but Lance cut her off.
“This is important, Roz. When Max left the Shrike, he ordered Brandon to take me to the Citadel and stay with me at all times. I’ve seen Max doing that thing where he controls people’s minds, and I’m pretty sure he was doing it then. But Brandon didn’t stay with me. Which means he’s able to resist Max’s control.”
Brandon shrugged. “I think you’re mistaken, Lance.”
“I’m not. You can resist him. And not only that, you can do it in such a way that he can’t tell. He can read your mind and you’re able to fool him. So you’re not just a pilot, are you? You’re one of them. A superhuman.”
“All right.” Brandon smiled and turned back to the controls. “You can do better than that, Lance. You’ve been touched by it too, you know. You and Cord. There are no truly normal humans on this craft.”
Lance felt the hairs on his arms start to rise, and he had to suppress a shudder.
“Suzanne, Roz, and I are pure superhumans. Joshua will get his powers in a couple of years. Lance, you and Cord are humans, but you’ve been changed. It doesn’t happen often. Most people are completely immune to the energy that makes us superhuman. A few of us absorb that energy and can use it in a number of ways. Fewer still are altered by the energy but otherwise human.” He tapped a command sequence into the keyboard. “Cord, you must have wondered why you were different. A natural talent with machinery and electronics? Please. In school you were average at best, showed little aptitude for anything other than football. Yet somehow you can build a powerful motorized suit of armor, a jetpack, advanced weapons. Equipment that even the best military minds are struggling to understand.” Brandon turned back to face Cord. “You never wondered about that?”
“Of course I did,” Cord said.
“And your conclusions?”
“I never drew any.”
“Right.” Brandon looked at Lance. “You I don’t know quite so well. Not yet. But I can see it in you, Lance. You have a gift for understanding people, for making them believe whatever you want them to believe. You’re a natural con artist.” He smiled. “I’ve been working alongside Max for half a year and he never even suspected me. You had me figured out in a couple of hours.”
Lance noticed a slight movement to his left; Roz was clenching her fists, shifting her weight. She was getting ready to attack. On the other side of Roz, Suzanne Housten was doing the same.
“Wait,” Lance said. “He’s on our side, I think.” To Brandon, he added, “Otherwise you’d have turned us in ages ago. So what’s your game?”
Brandon stretched his arm out behind him and—without looking—entered another command sequence into the keyboard. “Why don’t you tell them?”
Lance shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Use that gift of yours. Figure it out.”
“If you’re on our side, then it stands to reason you’re against Krodin. But you’ve obviously met him a few times, so why didn’t you…? Ah. He’s too powerful for you. You know you can’t defeat him.”
“Go on.”
“Not on your own, anyway. But I can’t imagine that you’ve been sitting around doing nothing. If you’re really against him, you’ll have been doing something to stop him. Or at least slow him down. But it’d have to be something that he’d never be able to trace to you…. And that’s why you’re working for Max, right? Krodin trusts Max, and Max thinks he can control you. You could get away with almost anything and Max would never have any reason to suspect you.”
Brandon spread his arms. “Bravo! And for an encore…? Anyone?”
Solomon Cord pushed his way between Lance and Roz. “It’s you. You’re the one who’s been the constant thorn in Krodin’s side…. You’re Daedalus.”
CHAPTER 29
“YOU APPEAR TO BE the intelligent one—comparatively, at least. Tell me about this other reality,” Krodin asked James. “Why do you seem to believe that it is so much better than this one?”
“Our time line doesn’t have you in it.”
“You don’t understand the nature of time, James.” He sighed. “I know you consider me some sort of barbarian, a man four-and-a-half millennia beyond his sell-by date, but it should be clear to you that’s an inaccurate view. I have a perfect memory, and an unmatched ability to acquire knowledge. Cast your mind back to the battle at Windfield—a little over three weeks ago for you, but it has been almost six years for me—and you will recall that I mastered your language in a matter of hours. When I reappeared in that same location six years earlier—an empty field at the time—I did not, of course, understand exactly what had happened. All I knew then was what I perceived: that Pyrokine attacked me, then you and your friends disappeared, along with the power plant and all signs of the battle.”
James thought, If Lance was here right now, he’d interrupt him with something clever. But James couldn’t think of anything appropriate to say. He knew Krodin wasn’t going to allow any of them to live.
Krodin continued: “When I realized what had transpired, I understood that I was free. I didn’t know how far back in time I had traveled, but then I read of a remarkable young man called Maxwell Dalton, and I knew that it had been only a few years. I sought out The Helotry—not an easy task even with my abilities—and then destroyed their entire organization. I appropriated their considerable wealth and made contact with Max. Together we formulated a plan to save the human race from its own greed and stupidity.”
“Yeah? Who’s going to save it from you?”
Krodin sighed again. He crossed his arms and leaned back against the teleportation device. “You just can’t grasp it, can you? You’re so close-minded that you cannot begin to comprehend that my way is the right way.”
“You’re taking away everyone’s free will!”
Krodin looked at James as though he were stupid. “So what?”
“It’s a basic human right.”
“Says who?”
“I…” James faltered and looked away. “It’s not that simple.”
“Make it simple.”
“We are self-aware. We are sentient beings. No, more than that, we are sapient beings.”
“By your own standards, yes, but I’ll allow that. Humans are sapient beings. Gifted with the ability to reason, judge, choose, understand, and create. Biologically we’re all animals, but these traits set us apart from the other animals of Earth.”
“Right.”
“So…Back to my question. Who decided—or concluded—that free will is a basic human right?”
Abby said, “We did. We decided for ourselves.”
Krodin turned to her. “Hmm…Perhaps I should direct my future arguments to you, Abigail. Yes, that’s a very good answer. Worthy of some consideration.” He glanced back at James. “But you…You’re a disappointment. Max? Take him out to the landing pad, put him next to Brawn, and shoot them.”
Max Dalton stepped forward. “What?”
“You want me to repeat myself? Shoot them, and keep shooting them until they are unquestionably dead. And go no farther than the landing pad. Can’t risk one of them making an escape and getting out of range of Casey’s power-
stripping toy, can we?”
“Don’t do this!” Abby said, stepping in front of James. “You’ve won. You don’t need to kill them!”
“But I want to.”
James realized that for the first time since he’d entered the room he wasn’t afraid. We did our best. There’s nothing more we can do. If this is it… “I have a few last requests.”
“Of course you do. What is it?”
“My mother and my sister. Don’t harm them. Let them live in peace.”
Krodin nodded. “Request granted. You have my word on that. Your stepfather?”
James shrugged. “Him too, I suppose. But, y’know, maybe you can arrange to have him shipped off to the far side of the world or something?”
“I’ll consider that.”
“And Abby lives. Whatever happens, she lives.”
“Now, that one I can’t promise. It really is up to her. If you’re fnished…? Max, take him.”
Max moved toward James and Abby threw herself at him, but Krodin was faster. He grabbed her arm and pulled her aside.
“It’s all right, Abby,” James said. “I always knew we weren’t going to get out alive.”
“Well, I didn’t know that! I thought we had a chance! Don’t accept this, James! Fight! Don’t let them do it.”
Then Max said, “I’m sorry. None of us really has a choice here.” He and James looked at each other for a moment. “Let’s go.”
They walked side by side out of the room, neither of them looking back.
In the corridor, the four soldiers James had earlier disabled had now recovered. They fell into step behind Max.
“So what’s the plan?” James whispered.
Max didn’t respond.
“Max?”
“There is no plan. I’m sorry, but this is where it ends for you. In the long run—”
“Don’t,” James said. “Please. Don’t embarrass yourself any further.”
Nothing more was said until they passed through the complex’s main doors.
James saw Brawn sitting on the center of the octagonal landing pad, surrounded by seven armed Praetorian soldiers. The giant was slumped forward, covered in bullet wounds, each one enough to put a normal human out of action.
The Ascension: A Super Human Clash Page 24
