Clearly, the man had issues. But that was understandable; losing a family member could easily have turned him into someone driven by vengeance. While she didn’t condone that, she certainly understood. “Mr. Moore, don’t you think that if extrahumans truly were wired to explode, as you so charmingly put it before, Corp would be working to resolve the issue?”
At that, he spun to face her. “Who do you think did this to you in the first place?”
Her heart dropped to her toes.
No. He was wrong. Kidder had been wrong.
Moore pivoted and started walking again, this time splashing through the watery filth. “This is why it was so vital for me to help get the truth out there. It’s not just to educate the citizens of the world. It’s to educate our so-called saviors as well.”
A burst of rage shattered the fear that had been icing her limbs. “‘So-called’?” she spat. “I’ll have you know that I’ve personally saved New Chicago twice in the last calendar year!”
“Yes, how very noble of you.” He shot her a look. “But maybe we mere mortals should be left to save ourselves.”
She scowled at him. “You’re infuriating.”
“We didn’t ask for superheroes.”
“And you’re an ingrate.”
Moore shrugged. “I’ve been called worse. But at least I’m not being deluded by a megalomaniacal organization bent on ruling the world.”
Jet shook her head. “Now you sound like Mister Invincible.”
“I’m not the villain here. Nor am I the threat to the public good.”
“No, you just kidnap reporters. Why’d you do it? Why Kidder?”
“I didn’t do a thing.”
“Everyman, then,” she gritted.
Moore paused as he considered a fork, then headed down the left-hand tunnel. Jet wondered if he really knew where they were going. Once she had Kidder safely in hand, she’d tap Ops to maneuver her out of the Network. “The problem with intrepid investigative reporters,” he said, “is that they don’t know when to leave something alone.”
“Do tell.”
“What do you want me to say? Ms. Kidder started looking too closely at the Society. Or, more accurately, at a small part of the Society. And that made some people very unhappy.”
Thinking about the memory stick she’d found in Kidder’s picture frame, Jet wondered what other things were carefully hidden in Kidder’s apartment. “Did it make you unhappy, Mr. Moore?”
He wheezed out a laugh. “Me? I’m an old man. I’m interested in the truth, not in power plays.”
“I take it Everyman’s planning another attack against the Academy.” She frowned, remembering that day in Third Year, and Iri bleeding in her arms, Iri screaming …
screaming
… and Sam—
screams sweet screams
No. Her hand pulled into a fist. Get back.
so sweet
Back!
Giggling, the voices receded. For the moment.
Light. She blew out a quiet breath, ignored the sweat dripping down her face. Forget the safety of white noise; she had to get out of the dark.
Soon. They had to be close to Kidder already.
Realizing Moore had been speaking, she focused on his words: “… crude as all that. But of course, it’s like your kind to jump to such conclusions.”
“My kind,” she said, “has saved humanity more times than you can count.”
“And again, we didn’t ask for your help.”
“Maybe not you, citizen. But many others have. Thousands of them. Hundreds of thousands.” More like millions.
“And how many of your kind are there? Ten thousand?”
She had no idea; Corp kept the exact number confidential. “Why?”
“How many extrahumans would it take to rule the world? To crush humanity under its feet?”
“We wouldn’t do that.”
“Of course you wouldn’t,” he agreed, not deigning to look at her. “But if, one day, you decided to do just that—say, that internal wiring of yours melts and leaves you more likely to, shall we say, wreak havoc—what could we humble civilians possibly do against you?”
Tension, thick in the foul air as she imagined the extrahumans declaring war on the innocent. It would be full-scale slaughter “You read way too much science fiction.”
“And you, girl, are willfully ignorant. Ah. Here we are.” They’d come to a halt in front of a steel-reinforced plast door.
Too easy, despite the darkness and the voices licking at her mind. “Convenient that none of the Undergoths interrupted our little journey.”
He shrugged. “The Society has an understanding with them.”
Of course. “How much per month?”
“I have no idea,” he said, sounding appalled she would even ask such a question. “I’m not a moneyman.”
“Just a mole. Open the door.”
He patted his pockets helplessly. “I’m afraid I don’t have a key.”
Of course not.
She approached the door, touched it. Tried the old-fashioned knob. Locked. She could Shadowslide through the crack between the doorjamb and the wall, even though she was loath to use her power in the dark. But duty first, always. Yes, Shadowslide, then see about opening the door from the inside. Worst case, she could pummel the thing with a Shadowbolt—
The blow hit her at the base of her skull. She staggered, whirled in time for the lightstick to clip her in the temple. The world tilted, and she stumbled to her knees.
Moore tinkered by the knob. “I lied about the key. But I didn’t lie about the reporter. She’s inside.”
Blinking away her dizziness, Jet let fly a runner of Shadow. It wrapped snugly around Moore from shoulders to knees, trussing him tightly. He teetered to the left, then toppled like a felled tree.
“That was a mistake,” Jet said, pulling herself up. “Leaking information from Corp was bad, but at least it was for a decent purpose. But attacking me from behind? Moore, you just bought yourself ten to twenty.”
Behind her, the door creaked open.
From inside, a rumble, like a bear’s growl, made Jet’s stomach knot and her knees turn to rubber.
She whirled around, but all she saw inside the doorway was shadow. The growling continued—low, almost musical. “What in the Light is that? A pit bull?” She hated dogs almost as much as she hated the dark.
Stomping from within. And the growl deepened.
Jet drew back. She couldn’t cut loose inside the room, not without knowing where Kidder was inside. Hitting her with Shadow could put her into shock, especially after her ordeal.
She called into the room: “This is Jet. I’m here for Lynda Kidder. Release her, now.”
Chuffing laughter—from the trussed form of Martin Moore.
Jet couldn’t spare him a glance; in front of her, a person was lumbering into view—obscenely muscled, the clothing shredded in its attempt to contain the body beneath it. It was a mountain of a human, someone so overly padded with bulging muscles that walking should have been simply impossible. Towering, hunched over to avoid hitting the roof of the tunnel, the figure almost vibrated with murderous fury. A string of pearls strained around the bulging neck.
“Oh Light,” Jet breathed, staring up at the monstrous person’s face.
The hulking shape paused in the doorway, blinked stupidly at the feeble glow from the lightstick on the ground, then focused on Jet.
“Freak,” wheezed Martin Moore, “say hello to the new and improved Lynda Kidder.”
CHAPTER 37
IRIDIUM
You never know what you’ll find down in the dark, but the dark will always find you.
Undergoth proverb
Taser jumped down first, crinkling his nose under his mask as the smell of the Rat Network drifted out of the grate. “Remind me why we’re doing this again?”
“Dortmunder and Burke,” said Iridium, taking his proffered hand and jumping down. She stumbled a little unt
il Taser caught her, his arm around her shoulders.
“Supervillains distinguished by their silly surnames?” he said.
“Architects. They designed a lot of the new downtown after the flood. They also designed the Academy complex.”
Taser stopped walking. “You can’t think that they’ll have plans for the Academy lying around.”
“If we’re going to hack the Ops network, we have to do it from inside the Academy,” she insisted, moving past him. “And by law, the firm that designed the complex is required to keep plans on-site.”
“Don’t know if you noticed this,” he said as he caught up to her, “but Corp isn’t bound by any law except how much cash and how many extrahumans it can toss at a problem.”
“I also know that Johann Dortmunder was indicted about ten years ago for conspiracy. He sold his copies of the Academy plans to the Everyman Society. They’d planned a bomb, or a raid, or something before Corp stepped in. Dortmunder got off with conspiracy, but …” She threw him a glance over her shoulder. “Would you get rid of an insurance policy like plans to the hallowed halls?”
“No, I surely wouldn’t.”
They walked in silence for a few minutes through the patchwork light. When they rounded a corner that led them farther into the darkness, Taser said, “What do you hope to accomplish by hacking Ops?”
“I don’t hope to accomplish anything,” said Iridium grimly. “I hope to show the Squadron that they’re just as vulnerable as the people they’re supposed to protect. That if they don’t have their little voices and Corp behind them, they’re fallible, and nothing for people to be afraid of. I want people to see that. I want—”
Taser held up his hand, and as she stopped, Iri thought once again that he all but radiated military. “You hear something?”
Iridium stilled herself and listened, over the drips and echoes of the tunnels, and the slow sliding trickle of the stagnant stream in the gap in the floor. Voices bounced off the curved walls and came back.
“What did you …”
“Say hello … Lynda Kidder …”
CHAPTER 38
JET AND IRIDIUM
Everyone bleeds.
Lancer to his first-year students in Basic Defense Techniques
JET
Jet slowly backed up, her gaze riveted on the monstrous form of Lynda Kidder. To Moore she spat, “What did you do to her?”
Moore chuckled wetly, the sound of an old man drowning in laughter. “Ms. Kidder was kind enough to test our defense against your kind. A serum designed to augment the human physique.”
Just what she needed: a mad scientist wannabe. Jet took another step back. “Was she kind enough to volunteer?”
“Under duress, absolutely.”
In front of her, Kidder snarled. She still hovered in the doorway of her cell, a dictionary definition of violent potential. But as threatening as she appeared, she hadn’t made a move against Jet. Perhaps there was enough of Kidder’s mind left to stop her from attacking.
But based on the way she was frothing at the mouth, and how she kept flexing her bulging muscles, probably not.
“Easy,” Jet said to the hulking reporter. She couldn’t risk hurting Kidder; the reporter wasn’t the bad guy here. Just posing as one. In a very, very convincing manner. “Lynda, I’m here to help you.”
Kidder’s lip curled into a sneer. Saliva leaked down her chin, and her low growls grew louder.
“She can’t understand you, you know.”
Eyes on the huge woman, Jet said to Moore, “So this is your way of opposing Corp? A drug that turns people into mindless monsters?”
“We won’t be easy meat for you.”
Jet didn’t pull her gaze away from Kidder, so she didn’t see Moore as he spoke, but she had no doubt that his eyes were gleaming with the fervor known only to psychotics and religious fanatics. She did, however, see a ripple of tension wash over Kidder’s body.
“We’ll fight back with everything we’ve got,” Moore said. “With everyone we can get our hands on.”
“You’re insane.”
“I’m committed to defending humanity against your kind.”
“My kind helps humanity.” She would have said more, but Kidder took a lumbering step forward, growling like the pit bull Jet had thought was in the cell. Jet’s heartbeat slammed in her chest. Light, she hated dogs. She hated rabids. She hated Iri for getting her in this position.
Hate later, she told herself, forcing her breathing to remain steady. First defuse the situation.
Moore, oblivious to or uncaring of his own danger, said, “We don’t want your help, freak. We don’t want you.”
Jet put her hands out, palms forward, to indicate that she didn’t want to fight Kidder. The malformed reporter’s growling increased. Damn. “And you’ll destroy innocent people to make your point?”
“There are always casualties in any battle worth fighting.” He paused, then said, “Acceptable losses.”
The growl kicked up into a roar of challenge, and Kidder charged—meaty fists raised overhead, ready to slam them down like sledgehammers.
Jet didn’t dare go on the offense, let alone use Shadow as a weapon. Kidder was an innocent, no matter how freaking huge and insane she was. So instead, Jet threw herself to the left, felt the wind from the enormous fists slicing the air.
She landed on her feet, spun, and dropped to a crouch as Kidder stormed forward, her right arm pulled back for another swing. Jet ducked under the punch, trusting Kidder’s momentum to carry the huge woman forward a few paces.
Careful. Enclosed area. Not a lot of room to maneuver.
Jet spun to see Kidder already charging her, fist already careening toward her. Damn it, she’s fast! With a grunt, Jet threw herself to the right. She heard Kidder’s hand connect with the wall, and turned to see the misshapen woman pull her gigantic fist free … Jet blinked at the damage to the tunnel wall.
Fast, and unnaturally strong. Like Earth-power strong.
Oh boy.
IRIDIUM
A spillway door rumbled free ahead of Iridium and Taser, and she put a hand on his arm. “Somebody’s down here.”
“You think?” he said humorlessly.
Iridium created a twin pair of strobes, no larger than marbles, to shed light just ahead of them, and started to walk.
“Maybe we should go a different way,” Taser muttered behind her.
“No,” she said. “Something’s wrong.” Voices were rising, distorted by the tunnel walls but definitely shouts.
“And you say you’re not a hero.”
Iridium smiled at him before peering around the junction in the tunnel. “I never said I was the bad guy, either.”
“Don’t mind if you are,” said Taser. “A vigilante and a villain. That’s kind of hot.”
“My mother thought so.”
“And the mood keels over, dead.”
Iridium poked him on the shoulder. “Shh. Someone’s coming.”
An old man in pajamas rounded the corner, so busy looking behind him that he slipped into the slough. With a curse, he pulled himself up, soaked from waist to ankles. He launched into a run again—and shrieked when Taser stepped in front of him.
“I’m innocent!” he cried, shielding his face with his hands.
“Settle down!” Taser said, grabbing the old man by the arm.
The civilian looked between Taser and Iridium, his eyes going wide. “Oh Christo, not more of you people. What do I have to do to get away from you freaks?”
“Nice,” Taser said. “You don’t see me insulting you about how you just wet yourself, do you? What’re you doing down here, anyway?”
“Getting away. Now let me go!”
“Hey,” Iridium said, staring at his wrinkled face, “do I recognize you?”
He turned to her. “I highly doubt that, freak.”
“I do. You’re that doctor,” she said, placing him. “You worked in the Mental wing at the Academy. You used to assist
with Therapy.” She spat the last word.
“I never worked at the Academy,” he sniffed. “And I’m not some wannabe brainwasher.”
She leaned into him, got in his face. “No? Then how do you know what Therapy is?”
“I do not have to suffer the insults of a rabid girl wandering around in some filthy tunnel,” he warbled. “You’re mistaking me for someone else.”
Taser lifted the old man off his feet by the front of his pajamas, and the old guy squeaked like a trapped mouse. “Want me to beat the hell out of him, Iri?” Taser gritted.
Iridium was about to tell him not to bother when a crash came from farther down the tunnel, followed by the distinct sound of a body hitting brick.
JET
Maybe slamming her monstrous hand into the wall had hurt Kidder, because the woman bellowed and charged forward.
Jet leapt up, landed on Kidder’s massive shoulder, and vaulted off, landing a couple of yards away. Crouching on the ground, Jet was sweating. And Kidder was already turning, getting ready to come at her again.
Forget pulling punches. Take her down, fast.
Jet summoned a floater of Shadow and used it to catapult herself, feetfirst, into Kidder’s chest. Kidder staggered back as Jet landed heavily on her feet, her boots splashing in the debris-filled water.
And then Kidder barked out a laugh.
Uh-oh.
Jet tapped her comlink, about to tell Ops where she was and to request backup, but then Kidder was right there, swinging at her, and all Jet could do was dodge. And again. Still Kidder attacked, punching almost lazily with huge fists. Jet ducked in and rabbit-punched Kidder in the gut, one two, one two three—
—and grimaced as she backpedaled. Damn, the woman was solid muscle! And the punches hadn’t done anything, other than make Jet’s hands sore. Sparring wouldn’t work; Jet was breathing hard, and Kidder only looked annoyed. The gigantic woman raised her fists overhead, ready to slam them down like the monstrous weapons they were.
With a grunt of effort, Jet threw Shadow at Kidder, shaping it into viselike bonds to pin the woman’s arms to her side. Kidder growled, flexed …
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