I was still looking at Richard. By apparent coincidence—as if anything is coincidence in a Spark’s life—Invie finished erasing Lilith’s memories at that moment. The dog walked over to Richard, apparently mistaking him for another Darkling.
No one told Invie to stop. When the dog began to lick Richard, I thought Shar looked relieved.
“WHY DO THIS AT ALL?” MIRANDA ASKED
“Mask, costume, it’s ridiculous,” she said. “I don’t want any part of it.”
“Not an option,” Grandfather told her. He gestured toward the Darklings. “You just had a fight. Did you start it?”
“Of course not,” Miranda said. “They attacked us.”
Grandfather nodded. “And how many other freaky run-ins have you had since you got powers?”
None of us answered. The others had to be thinking of the pustule demon attacking us. Me, I was remembering Nicholas in the police station.
“You want your lives simple,” Grandfather said. “Who doesn’t? But it doesn’t work that way. I know a guy: in his fifties, ran a business, had a family. He got powers but didn’t want ’em, so he acted like nothing had changed. Now his wife is dead and his daughter’s missing a leg, with a clear line of cause and effect from him staying out of the game.”
Grandfather shook his head sadly. “If it was up to me, I’d say live how you want. But Fate smacks you hard for refusing the call. Smacks your loved ones too, and everybody else in sight. Then it just keeps smacking till you give in.”
“FOR FUCK’S SAKE,” JOOLS SAID, “TELL US SOMETHING LESS DEPRESSING!”
Grandfather rolled his eyes. “Shit, girl, are you stupid? Now you got superpowers.”
“Okay,” Jools admitted, “there’s that.”
“And,” Grandfather said, “no offense to your fine selves right now, but you can expect to start looking more … cinematic.”
Miranda scowled. “Like how?”
Grandfather just grinned. Jools said, “I think he means thirty-six triple-Ds.”
“Ouch!” Miranda said. “Bite your tongue!”
Grandfather chuckled. “Gaining Spark powers gives you one hell of a makeover. That guy I told you about, in his fifties: Within a week of getting powers, he was rippling with muscles. His face niced up too. Got more regular and less pouchy. He still looked like himself, but like he’d been training hard for a year. All tucked ’n’ tightened.
“So expect to see changes. Like belly muscles. God almighty, the Light loves belly muscles. Every Spark—man, woman, or other—gets a six-pack. And great hair. And, uhh, better cheekbones. Isn’t that what women always go on about? Cheekbones?”
“Definitely,” Jools said. “Thirty-six triple-D cheekbones.”
“Fuuuuuuck,” Miranda said.
GRANDFATHER LAUGHED
“Don’t worry,” he said. “The Light is wish fulfillment, remember? You become what you long to be. Most of us get better looking, whatever that means to us personally. A few, though, would rather be scary than sexy. Some even become monsters: flying jellyfish and whatnot. Freud would have a field day.”
«Oversimplification,» Invie said inside my brain. «There are also nonpsychological factors.»
“Yeah, okay,” Grandfather admitted, “it isn’t all wish fulfillment. The Light cares about usefulness too. Like maybe some guy loves the idea of shooting fire from his hands. Okay, that’s good for attacking. But if he doesn’t have defense too, he’s mincemeat. So the Light gives him a force field or something, even if he’s never fantasized about that.”
“You talk about the Light as if it can think,” Shar said.
Grandfather shrugged. “I don’t know if it thinks as such, but it sure as hell has an agenda.”
“Which is?”
“To oppose the Dark. Duh.”
“It’s just about fighting?” Shar asked. “That’s senseless. Conflict never ends conflict; only letting go brings peace.”
“This is the world’s most ancient law,” Grandfather intoned, then chuckled. “Girl, I was sitting beside old Buddha the first time he trotted that out. And nobody’s saying the Dark and the Light should claw at each other all the time. But you can’t let the Dark have their way unopposed. They screw things up royally if they don’t have adult supervision.”
Miranda snorted. “Adult supervision means dressing in spandex and punching people out?”
Grandfather grinned. “Pretty much. Otherwise, the Darklings never stop trying to take all the cookies.”
INVIE FINISHED LICKING RICHARD’S FACE
«Done,» the basset hound said. «We must proceed with other business.»
“What other business?” Miranda asked.
“We got word of a lab explosion,” Grandfather said. He jerked his thumb toward E3. “That’s why we’re here. We operate out of Toronto, but Invie keeps his ear to the ground—eavesdropping on police, the feds, and so on. When interesting news comes down the pike, we investigate. A lab explosion with Darkling involvement? That’s right up our alley.”
“Adult supervision,” Miranda said.
“Exactly. Cuz Darklings automatically cover shit up, always thinking it’ll never hit the fan. Invie and me, we stick in our noses to offer a second opinion.” He looked at us keenly. “So a lab explosion a few hours ago, and suddenly there’s four new Sparks I’ve never heard of. Makes me put two and two together. You want to talk about that?”
“No,” Miranda said.
“Fair enough,” Grandfather said. “Never wise to be too trusting. But look, you just got attacked by a team of Darklings. And let me tell you, there’s a ton of Darkling chatter between Waterloo, Toronto, and Ottawa. Rich and powerful folk are getting their panties in a knot, squabbling over who’s gonna do what where. By the way, did you know it’s the winter solstice and there’s gonna be a lunar eclipse?”
“Yeah,” Jools said. “That had come to our attention.”
“The Darklings are saying the walls are thin, whatever that means,” Grandfather said. “They’re sweating about that and the potential for things getting ugly, but they aren’t doing much to police themselves. The Dark never ask, ‘What’s the right thing to do?’ It’s always, ‘How can we turn this to our advantage?’ They put effort into using disasters, not stopping ’em. If anyone’s going to handle this…”
Suddenly, Grandfather changed. I don’t know if he used a superpower; he certainly didn’t glow. But he went from “kindly grandfather” to “stern grandfather you really don’t want to mess with.” He said, “Will you four see to this? Cuz if you take responsibility for being guardians of Waterloo, Invie and I will back off. Professional courtesy. But something’s going on, and someone has to deal. Are you gonna step up?”
THE FOUR OF US EXCHANGED GLANCES
For a long moment, nobody spoke. Then Miranda said, “I don’t think we’re ready to commit. We have a lot to discuss.”
Grandfather shrugged. “Then discuss. Meantime, Invie and I will keep poking around. See what needs doing.”
I said, “How do we contact you once we make a decision?”
“Oh yeah.” Grandfather reached into the pocket of his suit coat. He fumbled around, then pulled out four silver rings: plain silver bands with no markings. “Invie makes these,” Grandfather said, handing each of us a ring. “We’ve given them out to Sparks all across the country. Our own private radio network.”
“If we put these on,” Miranda said, “anyone in on the secret will recognize us as Sparks.” She thrust the ring back at Grandfather. “No thanks.”
He held up his hand to refuse the ring. “Give us some credit,” he said. “They reshape however you like. Change color too. Fit your outfit, fit your mood.”
“How do they work?” Shar asked.
“You want to contact anyone who’s wearing a ring, just picture ’em in your head. Instant mental connection.”
“Does it have voice mail?” Jools asked. “I hate voice mail.”
“More to the point,” Miranda sa
id, “do these things let you track us or eavesdrop on conversations? Are these basically bugs?”
“Would you believe me if I said no?” Grandfather asked. He gave another of his disarming grins. “I guarantee these rings are more secure than phones or the Internet. Ordinary comms are hacked by everybody and their dog. So to speak.”
Miranda grimaced, but I’m sure she realized he was right. Normal modes of communication are monitored by government security bureaus, which are hand in glove with the Dark. Mad Genius supervillains have their hooks in everything too. Only someone like the Inventor has a chance of making something a Mad Genius can’t hack. And let’s not forget the others who’ve showed up since the Dark and Light appeared. Aliens. Super-science-using Atlanteans. Extradimensional tourists/pranksters/parasites/slave traders.
If Invie’s rings bypassed some or all of that surveillance, they were worth it, even if Invie himself could listen in.
I PUT THE RING ON MY LEFT PINKIE FINGER
A moment later, it changed to show a classical Greek–type head with two faces: one male, one female, looking in opposite directions. Okay, I thought, a little on the nose, but I like it.
«Yo, Kim!» Jools said inside my head. She’d put on her ring and was grinning like a loon. Her ring had become fat and gold with a mass of diamonds set into it.
«Is that a Stanley Cup ring?» I asked silently.
«From 1988,» Jools answered. «The last time Gretzky won the cup playing with the Oilers.»
«You weren’t even alive in 1988.»
«YOU weren’t alive when the Rocky Mountains formed, but you won’t shut up about how it happened.»
«Touché,» I said. «So when you put on the ring, you asked it to look like Gretzky’s?»
«I didn’t ask, but it’s perfect. Wish fulfillment, right?»
I came close to saying, Be careful what you wish for. But that was just reflex, and a bad one. What’s wrong with wish fulfillment? Sure, we sometimes wish for stupid things. But too often, people say, “Be careful what you wish for,” when they mean, “Don’t wish at all.”
Stop aspiring. Stay small.
Well, screw that—up, down, and sideways. Wish for every star in the sky. Wish for love. For delight. For doing great things in the world.
Because the wishes that go wrong are the petty, mean ones. For money. Admiration. “Winning.”
Ew. Just ew.
End of sermon.
MIRANDA DROPPED HER RING INTO HER COAT POCKET
Shar (who wore half a dozen rings already) put the new one on the thumb of her right hand. Immediately, it changed to a plain gold band, blending in with the others.
“Time for Invie and me to get cracking,” said Grandfather. “Touch base with us after you’ve made your decisions.” He winked. “Or your costumes.”
“You’re heading off to investigate the lab explosion?” Miranda asked.
“Someone has to. And Invie’s great at turning up clues.” Grandfather tapped the side of his nose. “If there’s anything to find, Invie’ll find it.”
He gave us a wave and touched his hand to the dog’s back. They disappeared instantly.
SHAR SAID, “NOW THAT HE’S GONE, MAYBE WE CAN THINK MORE CLEARLY.”
“What do you mean?” Miranda asked.
“Grandfather smelled like a garden full of jasmine,” Shar replied. “By which I mean he emitted a psionic field influencing us to trust him. Leave everything to Grandpa. He’ll take care of us.”
“That bastard!” Miranda said.
Shar shrugged. “He may not realize he’s doing it. He probably thinks people trust his common sense. But even if he were ranting like a lunatic, most normal humans would respect and obey him.”
“Sweet,” Jools said. “How do I get a power like that?”
“You already have it,” Shar replied. “You’re now a paragon at every skill, are you not? If you choose to exert yourself, you can be as charismatic and persuasive as any human in history.”
“Whoa.” Jools looked thunderstruck. After a moment, she said, “We’re fucking scary, aren’t we? I mean, seriously, we’re weapons of mass destruction. Who the hell would trust someone like me with that kind of clout?”
We all nodded somberly.
Shar said, “But every time I feel unworthy, ten seconds later I’m imagining how much fun I’ll have being super.”
We all nodded again.
“FUCK THIS,” JOOLS SAID
“I refuse to get depressed about being kickass.”
“Right, fuck depression,” Miranda said. “And fuck those guys for poking their noses into our lab explosion. If there’s anything to find, we should be the ones to do it.”
Jools said, “Last one to the lab buys the beer.”
She sprinted out of the alley and was soon out of sight.
But I’ve already remarked how much faster Miranda is than the rest of us. “Jools can buy her own damned beer,” Miranda said. She took to the air and was gone even faster than Jools.
I told Shar, “Don’t abandon Richard.” I shrank, jumped, and spread my coattails.
I FLEW FULL SPEED TOWARD THE BUILDING’S NEAREST DOOR
I aimed for the tiny gap between the bottom of the door and its frame. Bristly hairs hung down as weather stripping, but I shrank even smaller and zipped madly through the forest like Luke Skywalker in Return of the Jedi. The moment I was clear, I grew back to wasp size and zoomed through the halls till I reached the lab.
I stopped short of the door and sent my Spark-o-Vision ahead. Grandfather stood in the ruins while Invie wandered around snuffling at smudges on the floor. Occasionally, the dog licked charred scraps of metal or melted plastic. His collar flickered orange like an irregular strobe light—he was probably gathering data, but don’t ask me what. Since Sparks arrived, we’ve had an embarrassment of new particles, fields, and phenomena. Tachyons are passé; now we talk about upsilon waves, chronon quarks, and smegma radiation. (Seriously, some supersmart Sparks have the maturity of six-year-olds. But when they invent a name, it usually sticks.)
No matter what sensors Invie brought to bear, how much was there to find? I could see that someone had sifted through the room before we arrived. Paths had been cleared through the junk on the floor; debris had been stacked into piles. The place was still a mess, and perhaps something juicy had been overlooked, but the searchers had come and gone, presumably taking all the evidence they’d found.
I wondered who it had been. Local cops? Some secret federal agency? Or perhaps someone unofficial—the Mad Genius who’d made that rift-projecting machine, or the Widow and her friends from the black Lexus.
Maybe even Nicholas.
I HEARD FOOTSTEPS BEHIND ME
Jools came running down the hall. Miranda, glowing gold, floated a short distance in front of her; Miranda could fly faster than Jools could run, but she preferred to denounce racing as “childish” (while making sure to stay in the lead). From the opposite direction, Shar drifted toward me with her feet a short distance off the floor. Richard trailed in her wake, lying unconscious on a levitating bed of violet light.
Before any of them arrived, I couldn’t help myself: I flapped to the lab doorway and grew to full size. I leaned against the doorframe and tried to look as if I’d been waiting for the slowpokes to get there.
“Nice trick,” Jools said as she jogged the last few steps. “Do you go invisible? Walk through walls? During the fight, I could tell you were helping—I mean, from the way both the skeleton and the skank started screaming. But I can’t tell exactly what you do.”
I glanced in Grandfather’s direction. I told Jools, “Talk to you later.”
GRANDFATHER GRINNED
“I figured you four would show up. Have you decided to take over from Invie and me?”
“We’re keeping our options open,” Miranda said. “Which means keeping an eye on you. Have you found anything?”
«Strong residues of Dark and Light energies,» Invie transmitted.
> “The Light may have been from us,” Jools said. “And we know there were six Darklings present when this all went down.”
«Mere presence is not sufficient for these readings,» the dog said. «The Darklings must have performed significant magic.»
“They put up a blinder wall,” I said. “Is that enough?”
Invie looked at me with his doleful eyes. «A conventional blinder wall spell does not produce the amount of energy I’m reading,» he said. «An extremely enhanced spell might.» He sounded doubtful.
“What about opening a great honking portal to hell?” Jools asked.
«No hell energies present,» Invie said. «Nor traces of other known realities.»
“We saw a portal,” Miranda said. “Not to hell,” she added, glaring at Jools. “But definitely to some other unusual place.”
Invie’s collar strobed fiercely for several seconds. «No indications,» he finally reported. «My sensors can detect evidence of any cataloged universe, but there is always the potential for something new. Alternatively, low-level readings may be masked by the Dark and Light energies. The energies are large enough that they could drown out subtle emanations—especially ones similar to the Dark and Light themselves.»
“Too bad,” Shar said. “It would have been nice to know what we were—”
«ALERT, ALERT!» INVIE INTERRUPTED
«A kraken has been reported approaching Toronto.»
“I don’t know the word ‘kraken’,” Shar said.
“A sea monster,” Jools told her. “They used to be legends, until Mad Geniuses started making them for real.”
Grandfather said, “Invie uses ‘kraken’ for anything nasty in the water.” He looked at the basset. “Specifics?”
«In Lake Ontario,» Invie answered. «Massive entity, mostly submerged, on slow approach.»
“Damn,” Grandfather said. “I hate slow approach. It makes me suspicious.”
All Those Explosions Were Someone Else's Fault Page 13
