by Drew Hayes
“It’s not really done yet. We did only have a night,” Tori protested.
“Plans always change, if not after you give them to us then certainly when you’re out on the job. We don’t look them over to see if every single detail is perfect; we’re just checking for any glaring mistakes or blatant violations of the code. So long as your outline doesn’t have either of those, it will be fine. In this case, even if you do, we’ll just ask you to make some changes. Trust me, you want to hand those over; otherwise you’ll spend every hour from now until the deadline endlessly tweaking them. Better to get some feedback and maybe a little sleep.”
Tentatively, Tori extended the stack of pages that she and the others had been up all night working on. Stasis, sensing the younger woman’s apprehension, accepted them as if they were made of glass and tucked them securely against her arm.
“Okay: let me show you a few more functions on the form, then you can all feel free to go rest. Unlike me, the rest of the council does need to sleep, so they won’t be up and able to meet until this afternoon at the soonest.”
Tori didn’t bother to correct her, but she knew Stasis was at least partly off-base. After all, Tori had never encountered anyone who rose with the sun quite as regularly as Ivan Gerhardt. In fact, despite the early hour, she’d have put down money that he was in his kitchen right now, cooking up a huge breakfast that he’d miraculously devour.
To Tori’s credit, she was spot on about Ivan already being awake, though she could hardly be faulted for getting the location wrong. Not when Ivan had gone to such great lengths to keep it secret from her.
* * *
The sounds of Penelope’s cartoons wafted through the open door into the kitchen where Ivan and Helen sat drinking their coffee. She could be heard singing along, off-key, to the more musical ones, no doubt spilling her own breakfast on the floor when the urge to dance overtook her. Despite the noise, Ivan was thankful for her active participation in television viewing; it made it easier to keep track of where she was. This was not a conversation either of them wanted Penelope overhearing.
“He seemed pretty sure,” Ivan said, picking at the last of the eggs left on his plate. “Said it went down that way in almost every universe.”
“Even if that’s true, ‘almost every’ sort of belies the real scale. I mean, the best estimates say there are millions, maybe billions, that would be similar enough to ours to be recognizable,” Helen pointed out. “So saying ‘almost every universe’ follows a pattern is the same as saying there are hundreds of thousands that don’t. Maybe we’ll be one of those.”
“Nexus is a crazy son of a... bad man.” Ivan’s curse withered on his tongue as Helen glared at him. Whether the girl was in earshot or not, Helen didn’t allow cursing in the same house as Penelope. Given how quickly she picked up on words, Ivan could hardly blame her for the policy. “Nexus is insane, but his warnings are usually accurate.”
“Except when he’s lying, either for a purpose or for fun. Look at how many times he caused widespread destruction and blamed it on that poor Stasis woman just to make her appear to be a criminal. He can’t be trusted. While the warning is nice, I’m not going to take it as gospel.” Helen finished off her cup of coffee then took the pot from the middle of the table and refilled it halfway.
She was right, which wasn’t exactly new, but Ivan was determined to make her take it more seriously. “But Helen, if the stars fall—”
“Then they fall, Ivan. We’ve always known it was a possibility.” Helen’s eyes turned from him to the doorway into the living room, through which her daughter could still be heard singing off-tune. “I never thought this was possible, not after the accident. But you made it happen. If not for you, I don’t know that I could have even taken the first nine months, let alone the six years after that. It’s been wonderful, like living a dream. And if that dream finally comes to an end, well, I got six years of this peaceful life when I never expected a day of it. I can’t be mad that I didn’t get more; that would be just plain greedy.”
When she looked back at Ivan, Helen’s eyes had begun to water at the edges. They both pretended not to notice. Instead, Ivan reached over and took her hand in his. It was so strange to hold a thing that seemed so delicate yet was in fact one of the strongest hands in the world.
“Our universe is our own. If there’s any way to stop the stars from falling, I’ll find it. Trust me, and don’t act rashly just because things look bad.”
Helen snorted, quickly turning her head to cover the sound. “It’s still funny, you know, even after this long. You asking me to trust you. I do, don’t get me wrong, but... you know.”
“I know,” Ivan assured her. He released her hand and sank his fork into his eggs, finishing the last of them. As he chewed, a thought popped into his brain, another memory from the night before that had taken far lower precedence in light of Nexus’s prediction. “Let me ask you something: did you know that Quorum is the only one of his kind? Or does he know that? Nexus let it slip last night.”
“Oh yeah, he’s known for decades. It’s why Nexus became his arch-enemy to begin with. Apparently, he’s got a thing for the anomalies that only exist in single dimensions.” Helen put her newly freed hand back on her cup of coffee and took a sip, wincing at the burst of heat. “You know Stasis is one too, right? Evidently he mentioned that to Quorum a while ago, but we assumed she knew.”
“That one we were aware of,” Ivan said. “Not sure why he tormented her but forged a rivalry with Quorum.”
“Don’t try to understand Nexus. Nexus understands Nexus and he’s freaking insane,” Helen said.
As they chuckled at that, both noticed that the racket from the living room was dying down, meaning they’d have to weather a bout of commercials before Penelope’s next cartoon came on. Both had just managed to shove away their plates before she came rocketing in, leaping up into her mother’s lap without even bothering to see if she could successfully avoid hitting the table. Ivan smiled as he watched her land. She truly was fearless.
Just like her mother.
Chapter 60
Tori found herself with the last thing she’d expected to possess over the weekend: free time. With their plan under review, there wasn’t much point in doing more work, at least not until they knew they’d been approved for the time and target they’d chosen. After all, it would suck to spend a full day plotting out how to rob a museum that they weren’t allowed to touch. Plus, there was no training to do since all of their time had been set aside to plan their job. So after a few hours of precious sleep and a quick lunch from a vending machine, Tori decided it was time to make good on another duty she’d been putting off.
It took five full minutes of knocking on Beverly’s door before she finally answered, hair splayed out in all directions as she tried futilely to blink the sleep out of her eyes. After staring at Tori for several seconds, she finally opened her mouth and spat out a greeting.
“Whasmacha?”
“Eloquent as always,” Tori replied. “Come on, it’s been like five hours, you have to be caught up on sleep by now.”
Slowly, Beverly reached up and rubbed her face until her eyes finally focused on the intruder in front of her. “The human body needs eight hours, usually. And it’s not supposed to stay up for an entire night before getting them. What do you even want? There’s no way the council already came back with approval.”
“Shit no, I bet half of them are still lazing about like you,” Tori said. “I’m actually about to head out, and I wanted to see if you were up for coming along. Figured this would be a good time to introduce you to... well, that woman I told you about.”
Though she’d brought Beverly up to speed about Chloe and her predicament earlier in the week, Tori had made a point of not saying the barista’s name on guild property. Perhaps it was paranoia—she highly doubted the guild would try to strong-arm Chloe into joining—but something inside her demanded that she play her friend’s secret close to the
vest. If her time with Ivan had taught her one thing, it was the code. But if it had taught her two, then it was the code and when to trust her instincts.
“Right... right, the lady with the talking thing.” Beverly’s brain was sluggish but seemed to be kicking into gear. “Magic one, right?”
“That’s the best guess. She’s not a thousand percent sure where she got her powers from, but magic fits the best.” Tori had tried to keep things as vague as possible, which hadn’t been hard given how little Chloe actually knew about her own abilities. “You want to come see what we can figure out?”
“Well, I doubt I’ll be able to get back to sleep.” Beverly’s words were nearly cut off as a giant yawn split her face, somewhat disproving her own argument. “Guess I may as well see if I can help. But you know there are people that have way more experience with magic than me, right? I just found a necklace.”
“For now, I think it’s less about magic than it is about puzzling through exactly how a thing works. I’ll take someone smart and trustworthy over a magic expert,” Tori said.
“Let’s hope your friend feels the same.” Beverly let out another yawn then shoved her door open to allow Tori inside. “Come on in. I just need a few minutes to get dressed. I’m not putting on anything too nice, though.”
“Somehow, I think she’ll be okay with that,” Tori assured her.
“She’d better be. Oh, and since your intruding ass woke me up, you’re stopping to get us some soda or something somewhere along the way,” Beverly added.
“How about coffee?” Tori asked, barely concealing her knowing smile.
“Can’t stand the stuff.” Because she was turned toward her dresser, Beverly missed the shocked, pained expression that flitted across Tori’s face. “Too bitter, even with cream and sugar. Give me a nice energy drink any day.” Beverly finally pulled out a new t-shirt and looked back over to see Tori staring wide-eyed at the woman she’d thought she knew.
“What?”
“Nothing, nothing.” Tori shook her head. “Just trying to figure out if we can still be friends after that revelation.”
“Then get out and let me go back to sleep. I don’t haul myself out of bed on five hours of sleep for people who aren’t my friends,” Beverly said.
“I guess we can make it work then, somehow.” Tori slapped her hands together as another revelation struck her. “It will give me a chance to bring you around and show you how wrong you are about coffee.”
The next thing that struck Tori was not a revelation but rather the t-shirt Beverly had balled up and chucked at her. Unlike their attempts to shoot at the trash can, this time, Beverly’s aim was dead on.
* * *
“It looks good.” Wade flipped through a few more pages, checking for details on how they’d circumvent the motion cameras only to find they had indeed put a plan in place. Having Lance’s bugs gang up to unplug them was a crude solution, though hard to dispute in terms of effectiveness. “Rough around the edges, albeit not as much as I expected. Ms. Rivas’s years of thievery are showing through.”
“Yeah, nothing is really jumping out at me either.” Xelas didn’t bother flipping through the pages. She’d looked at them once and had the information recorded—a benefit to having cameras for eyes. “They really did this all in a night?”
“Sure looks that way.” Stasis had a set of copies, though she’d long ago given them as much perusing as she planned to. There were other, more responsible members to handle the deep vetting.
Currently, Stasis, Morgana, Xelas, and Wade, sans Doctor Mechaniacal suit, were grouped together in the council’s chambers, overhauling the proposed plan. Technically, the meeting to evaluate its viability wouldn’t be for another few hours, as Gork’s people were naturally nocturnal and both Ivan and Balaam had said their mornings were booked. Still, this group was the one that would do most of the actual work, ensuring that no sudden personnel changes or mergers had rendered the museum a poor target.
“Anyone found how they’re dealing with the security guards?” Morgana called, flipping through her pages. “I’m sure they know better than to leave a trail of corpses, but I’m not seeing what they want to do instead.”
“Page fourteen, under ‘planned developmental countermeasures,’” Wade informed her. “Looks like they’re going to have Glyph lay down some magic that will put the weaker-willed ones to sleep. Then Hephaestus and Pest Control are planning to handle any leftovers with poisoned insects and ranged chemical attacks.”
“Hephaestus has gear for that on hand?” Morgana asked. After seeing the apprentice whip up a sonic cannon out of a spare robot parts, she didn’t doubt the woman’s tech skills, but time was of the essence.
“She seems certain she can build it in time.” Wade had a suspicion that she would be bringing far more than just what was outlined before them. She had likely only submitted the things she felt were absolutely necessary. Back when he’d built his first meta-suit, he’d tried to cram in everything but a sausage grinder.
“I guess that’s fine, as long as she can pull it off,” Morgana said.
“No one else finds it worrying that Lance can just summon insects so toxic they knock people unconscious?” Xelas shivered, a sound like nails rattling in a steel can. “Makes me glad I don’t have skin.”
“His name is Pest Control.” When in the council, Wade was a stickler for using their members’ proper names, though even he would admit it was more for propriety than safety. “The animal world is a dangerous place and has served as inspiration for many a nightmare of mankind. That’s only become more true since the discovery of metas, as we’ve found all sorts of creature not previously dreamed of.”
“Wait, hold on, can Lance—sorry, Pest Control—summon meta-insects?” Stasis seemed to show interest for the first time since she’d dropped off the copies of the apprentices’ proposal.
“From what we’ve seen, he can summon any insect so long as he has seen a sample in person,” Wade replied. “Granted, that means he has little more in his meta-summoning arsenal than the augmented wasps the capes drove out of the city a few years ago, but I suspect that won’t always be the case.”
“Kids today, just full of surprises.” Xelas leaned her head back and stared at the ceiling for several seconds before speaking again. “Okay, I just finished rechecking all our databases. So far as I can tell, there’s no one directly related to AHC members or the guild that works at the Dash City Museum.”
“Thank you, Xelas.” Wade turned the last page and set it down, then clapped all the paper together into a neat pile. “We will still have to conduct a formal review this afternoon, but barring one of the other three seeing something we missed, I think it’s safe to say that come next Wednesday, the Dash City Museum will be at risk of losing quite a few exhibits.”
* * *
“Maybe ‘the devil is in the details’? Wait, scratch that. On the off chance you actually can somehow create a biblically powerful supernatural enemy, I’d like to have a little more firepower than just us on hand,” Beverly said.
“No, we should try it. That’s one I’ve never tested.” Chloe took a deep breath, looked around to make sure no one had somehow snuck up on them, and whispered, “The devil is in the details.”
All three women scanned their surroundings, waiting for some horned entity to pop up from behind the heaps of scrap. After getting dropped off by a guild car at Ridge City Grinders, Tori and Beverly had joined Chloe, who drove them out to a scrapyard Tori had used as a testing ground for more experimental slip-shod weaponry once upon a time. It was the sort of place that was neglected when anyone even bothered to show up, so it offered a precious commodity in the metropolis of Ridge City: privacy.
“How do we know if it worked?” Tori asked, after several moments passed with no fallen angel popping into existence.
“I don’t know, which I think might be the problem.” Chloe pulled a small notebook from her pocket, along with a stub of a pencil, and scrawle
d the new phrase inside. Once it was written, she promptly drew a line through it, indicating that it hadn’t worked. “It’s starting to look like I can’t just use a phrase; there needs to be some kind of understanding with it. Saving a penny, I understand. How the devil would pop out of the details... I’ve got nothing. Maybe if there were a contract, and he could use it as a portal.” Chloe added a star next to the crossed out phrase, her way of noting that it might be worth exploring later.
So far, they’d spent over an hour with Chloe testing every idiom or old saying that popped into their minds. Several worked but many produced no visible effect, not even when adding that extra bit of magical weight to her words. It was a confusing, sometimes contradictory process, and Tori could see why Chloe was having so much trouble getting a grip on her power. It made turning into living fire seem positively mundane.
“Okay, I’ve got another one I want you to try,” Beverly said. “How about ‘one punch will send you flying’?”
Chloe tilted her head slightly. “I’ve never heard that one before.”
“But you can picture how it would work, right?”
“Well, sure. It’s pretty straightforward. One punch will send you flying.” Nothing happened as Chloe spoke, though that much had been expected. Sometimes the triggers to her magic were more obvious than others; this one would obviously demand physical contact.
“Good, now punch me. Not too hard, just one in the shoulder.” Beverly approached and paused a few inches away from Chloe.
“Hang on, what if this actually works?” Tori asked.
“Then I’ll turn into a graceful white dragon and take control of the flight.” Beverly, to Tori’s shock, had given Chloe a rundown of her powers as soon as they met. Evidently, she felt it wrong to learn so much about someone else’s secret without offering up a bit of her own. That had, in turn, prodded Tori to provide Chloe with some insight into her fire-based abilities, though she’d kept more than a few bits still secret. “Now make with the jab.”
