Time and Chance

by Jeff Mariotte

  Caitlin watched as her teammate's form stretched and expanded. His body flattened and became featureless, then rose up and reached around the others.

  "Grunge, no!" Roxy hollered.

  Caitlin understood what Grunge was doing. She watched as his body molded itself to the walls, the ceiling, and finally the floor, preventing the deadly energies from reaching them. Bright crimson bursts lit up all around them—the energies striking Grunge's body and bouncing off. Sounds of pain reverberated all around them.

  "It's killing him," Roxy whispered. "Don't let him do this, Kat—it's killing him!"

  Caitlin looked away from her half-sister. She had already thought of a way out, but she didn't dare voice it. Too many lives other than their own would be at risk.

  Suddenly, she felt a breath on the nape of her neck. She spun, but saw no one.

  Sarah glanced her way. "Kat?"

  Then Sarah's hair rose as if invisible hands were running through it. "Lovely," a deep, rumbling voice said behind her. Sarah whirled and kicked. She nearly fell off-balance when her foot struck only empty air.

  "Be ready for anything," Caitlin cautioned.

  "Yes," said the voice. This time it was near Roxy. "Be ready."

  For several long moments, the voice did not speak. Caitlin and her friends waited, exchanging anxious gazes.

  "Who are you?" Caitlin asked.

  Silence.

  The reflective steel surrounding them lit up, glowing bright crimson as a concentrated array of energies struck from the other side. Grunge bellowed in pain, but his body did not yield.

  She thought of her plan once more. The only way out of this trap.

  What if—

  A blow that would have shattered any normal human being's spine landed in the small of her back. The shocking, sudden pain made her gasp, and the unexpected impact sent her stumbling forward. She turned to face a hulking giant of a man who wore the same symbol she had seen on the video screen when they had first entered.

  "Curiosity gets you killed," the man said. He wore communication gear similar to what had been taken from the merc they had captured.

  It had all been a set-up. A trap.

  Bobby and Sarah launched themselves at the man— and passed harmlessly through him. He came for Caitlin and threw a punch that took all of her strength to block. It was only a feint. The real hit came from his other fist, which slammed into Caitlin's stomach and doubled her over.

  "No!" Bobby yelled.

  Caitlin heard the crackling flames an instant before Bobby loosed them. She wanted to tell him to wait, but the air had been knocked out of her lungs. Instead, she flattened as the flames passed through her attacker and nearly consumed her.

  "Too slow," the man said.

  He reached out and grabbed at the wall—at Grunge's body, and dug his fingers in deep. A cry of agony sounded from everywhere and nowhere at once.

  Caitlin swept her legs around, grinning as her feet struck solid flesh. She kicked the man's legs out from under him and made him release Grunge. With a leap she was on their attacker, but she passed through his body once more. He could become intangible with a thought— but he was not infallible.

  "Better," the man said. "My employer wishes for you to know his name. He is Wager and this city is his. You children should not have challenged him."

  He motioned for Caitlin to come closer. With a snarl she launched herself at him. This time, he did not become intangible. He barely defended himself as fists that could punch through steel walls buffeted his head and torso.

  "More," he said. "Show me everything."

  Caitlin drew back her fist—and realized she hadn't even bruised the man or damaged his communication equipment.

  "He's got some kind of field around him," Caitlin said. "A dampener, I think. Classic I.O."

  "Don't stop," the man said. "The longer you make the testing, the longer you get to live. Wager has an interest in Gen-Actives."

  So that's what this was all about. Taking their measure. Analyzing them.

  Just like when they were given their powers.

  "You want to see what we can do?" Caitlin asked, her rage overtaking her reason.

  The man nodded.

  "Grunge, come back. Now!"

  The sleek metallic surface that had surrounded them withdrew and reformed into their teammate. He looked weak and dazed. An array of sizzling energy beams struck at them and Roxy had to pull him to safety.

  "Roxy, hit this box we're in with everything you've got," Caitlin commanded as she took Grunge from her. "Make it weigh ten tons if you can."

  Raising his hand, the man said, "Wait—"

  Roxy didn't wait. She focused her power and turned it on the walls surrounding them.

  Suddenly, there was a grinding and shrieking of metal, a hideous hiss and a deep straining cry that might have sounded forlorn if it had come from something human, or even alive. The walls shuddered and the box in which they had been trapped wrenched loose of its moorings, its ceiling drooping and collapsing under its own weight. There was a last spatter of energy beams fired from openings in the wall so tiny that nanite technology was probably involved, or so Caitlin guessed, and then the floor hauled itself up and to one side, dumping all five members of the team onto what had been the far right wall.

  The man with them fell toward them and through them, disappearing.

  One jarring impact followed another as their cage crashed through one floor after the next.

  Caitlin had done some quick calculating, and had guessed that practically every floor of this building was deserted, and that this box would strike the ground floor in one of the untenanted sections. All they had to do was survive the ride!

  The group was bumped, jostled, and tossed around, smashed and beaten at every turn, but finally their descent ended with a terrible crash. Roxy banged her head and lost her concentration just as the walls were beginning to fold inward because of their untenable mass.

  Caitlin checked everyone over. "Nothing broken, thank God."

  "We're a tough bunch," Grunge muttered. He looked like hell.

  With a single punch, Caitlin was able to tear a hole through the walls trapping them. She grabbed at one end of the tear she had made and pulled hard. It moaned as it bent backward.

  "But—we couldn't bust through this stuff before," Bobby said. "I don't get it."

  "It wasn't the metal, it was all the fields that were working on it," Caitlin said.

  Grunge nodded. "Yeah, I felt something going through me when I absorbed it. Didn't think about it so much 'cause I was like gettin' shot every two seconds, but I felt something weird."

  They climbed out over a pile of rubble into a dark, unoccupied space. Banners proclaiming "Archabald's Fine Clothing for True Gentlemen—Coming Soon" were pasted on the unpainted walls.

  Caitlin's gambit had paid off.

  About thirty yards ahead, Caitlin saw a dim light. She led her friends to it and discovered a rounded corridor with track lighting. They followed it, and soon overhead lights appeared. The sounds of confused, frightened people drifted their way. Sharper voices rose above.

  "Keep back, just keep back!" The growls of security guards. A hand radio squawked. "Listen, it's all we can do to keep these people in the restaurant and out of the tunnels. They want to know what happened. We want to know what happened. But we don't have anyone to spare. Just call 911, all right?"

  Caitlin looked back into the darkness from which they had just emerged. "The first floor's set up as a circular plaza. Half of it's occupied, the other half isn't. If we go back that way, we're just going to run into civilians from the other shops."

  She saw another unoccupied space. This one promised a chocolate factory. "There ought to be doors leading to the street from there. If not, we can bust our way out."

  "Good plan," a familiar voice said. "Or it would be, if you weren't already as good as dead."

  The voice had come from the darkened space that would one day be a chocolate f
actory. It was anything but sweet.

  Caitlin and the others turned to face the man who had attacked them upstairs. He wasn't alone this time. A half-dozen soldiers in I.O. wear braced him. These guys held themselves differently from the decoys upstairs.

  Caitlin tensed. Grunge and Roxy were able to walk, but that was about it. Neither would be any good in another fight.

  Bobby and Sarah leaped forward. Her winds struck their opponents and sent them off-balance even as their weapons fired and streams of multi-colored energies tore at the ceiling and through the upper reaches of the building. Bobby moved in behind her, a wall of flame erupting from his hands, engulfing the mercs.

  All but the tall muscular man who had spoken were down in seconds. He had stood still, arms folded over his chest, while Sarah and Bobby flew right through him.

  Caitlin rushed at him while Sarah and Bobby circled back to pick up Grunge and Roxy. She knew that if he was going to make any contact with her, he would have to become corporeal. It was all a matter of timing…

  She screamed, seemingly maddened with rage, and flung herself at the man. He grinned, allowing her to fall through him. Then, just as he was about to level a blow to her spine once more, Caitlin "regained" her balance, spun, and delivered a high kick to his jaw that connected with a satisfying snap.

  He looked stunned. She pressed her advantage, kneeing, kicking, gouging, striking at him with all of her superhuman strength. Jabs were delivered to his solar plexus, smashing blows to his instep, an open-handed strike to the face that would have killed anything human by sending the cartilage from his nose into his brain— any move she could possibly make to keep him off balance while she studied him and tried to find a way to put him down.

  His reactions surprised her. He wasn't a trained fighter. There may have been some soldiering in his past, but he wasn't used to wielding the kind of power he now possessed. His confidence was a pose. She could tell simply by sparring with him.

  As she fought, Caitlin saw that two of the guards Sarah and Bobby had taken out were now back on their feet. They raised their weapons and Roxy, being hauled by Sarah, raised her shaky hand and snarled a curse.

  Their weapons exploded. Twin novas of blinding energy rose up and became rolling fireballs of terrible force. Then—the fireballs twisted like balloons being filled with air, their shape changing until their energies struck out in a funnel upward!

  The ceiling blew apart and a sound that might have been the howling cries of ancient gods echoed from above as the entire building shook and began to collapse around them.

  Roxy dropped in Sarah's arms, spent.

  The people, Caitlin thought. The people!

  Suddenly, behind her, Grunge broke from Bobby and placed his hand on her opponent. Grunge became stone, like the floor, and allowed his power to flow into his victim. Caitlin watched as the man's molecular structure began to change, his cells transforming into a marble-like substance.

  Then there was another explosion and Caitlin, Bobby, and Grunge were thrown back. They rose to see the building collapsing around them.

  The man who had attacked them was on his knees, his body human once more, but intangible, ghostlike.

  Bobby stared at him, then clutched the side of his head. "Mr. Joe?"

  The man looked up sharply. A brief moment of recognition seemed to pass between them. The man mouthed Bobby's name, then looked away.

  "I'm Cipher!" he spat, getting back to unsteady legs.

  "His dampening field is gone," Caitlin said. "Grunge took it out. He's vulnerable if he becomes material again."

  "No need," the man said with a cool smile. "Hear that?"

  Screams pierced the sounds of falling debris.

  "Go save them if you can." He looked to the others. "Wager says fall back. The press will blame these five for the entire disaster. They'll be as good as dead in the eyes of the world."

  The mercs retreated.

  Caitlin knew he was right. She couldn't turn her back on the people trapped in this crumbling building.

  She signaled to the others. Bobby stayed the longest, watching with a blank expression as Cipher and his crew fled through a back door that led onto the street.

  "Mr. Joe," he repeated.

  Then he turned and followed Caitlin to help with the rescue.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The fluid in the hypodermic that Lee held was so green it almost glowed. That was the stuff, Wager knew, that would make his every dream a reality. One shot…

  "How much is there?" he asked.

  Lee held it up to the light, measuring it against the faint markings on the cylinder's side. "Exactly the same amount we gave Monteleone," he said. "Your biochemical composition is similar enough to his that the chances of the same dose being equally effective are nearly one hundred percent."

  Wager laughed. "You talk to me about percentages? About risk?" He looked down at himself, strapped into a chair just like the one that Cipher had broken free of when he had transformed. Everything Cipher had been through, he had also put himself through. Chemicals to strengthen his skeletal structure, so that the sudden increase in muscle mass wouldn't shatter his bones. Flushing his system of any impurities that might possibly interact with the Gen-Active solution. He was as ready as Cipher had been, and the results, in Cipher's case, had been all that he'd hoped for.

  "Double it," he said.

  "That's crazy," Lee burst out. "There's no way—you have no idea what'll happen."

  "I know, within a range of three percent, what will happen," Wager said. "I observed the test subject carefully. I've seen all the reports. I know what happened to his body during and after the treatment."

  "But he's not you," Lee argued. "He's close, as close as one unrelated human being is likely to get. But he's still a different man. You can't be sure enough."

  "I'm sure enough. Do it."

  "I won't," Lee said. "It isn't safe."

  Wager strained against the restraints, sorry now that he had agreed to them. Lee had insisted that the subject had to be kept still while the fluid did its work, but Wager suspected that was more for the convenience of the doctor than real medical necessity.

  "Suzanne!" he called.

  She'd be watching, via the same video system on which he had seen Monteleone's transformation. He knew that. The delicate voyeuristic/exhibitionistic balance of their relationship demanded that she would, even though it was a reversal of their usual roles.

  The door opened a moment later. Suzanne came striding in, powerful and elegant as a jungle cat. She smiled at him, awaiting instruction.

  "Kill him," Wager ordered.

  "W-what?" Lee stammered. "I'm only thinking of—"

  Suzanne crossed the clean room before he finished his sentence. Her left arm swung in a swift chop that caught the doctor on the side of the throat. His larynx knocked off keel, his face reddened as he struggled for breath. He made ghastly croaking noises.

  She wrapped an arm around his head, almost tenderly holding it to her breast, and then she twisted his neck and dropped him. He fell to the floor, a lifeless husk.

  She held the hypodermic, which she had liberated from his grasp.

  "Now, get the stuff," Wager said. "You know where it is, in the fridge."

  "I know," Suzanne said. She had been present for Monteleone's treatment. She went to a stainless steel refrigerated cabinet up against a wall, opened the door. Inside was a vial of the Gen-Active formula—all that was left of it. There wouldn't be any more available. She bent over—farther than she had to, knowing that he was watching the swell of her behind against the fabric of her skirt—and retrieved it.

  "Double what's in there now," he instructed.

  "I heard." She inserted the needle into the top of the vial, and drew up the plunger. The green fluid filled the glass tube. When she had doubled the quantity, she walked toward Wager, still strapped into the chair. She held the needle before her cleavage, as if daring him to look at it instead of at her.


  "Is this what you want?" she asked, her voice husky.

  "You know it is," Wager said. "Give it to me."

  "This is an interesting switch, isn't it?" she asked. "You're powerless, tied into that chair. I hold all the cards. What do you think of that?"

  "I think you'd better give it to me now, or you won't live to see the morning," Wager rasped. "Now."

  "My, we're anxious, aren't we?" she said. "You know I'm only playing with you. I have my role, and I know what it is. You're the boss. I do what you say."

  "You'd better."

  She bent over him, put her lips close to his ear. "This stuff will only make you stronger. More forceful than ever." Her breath was hot against his cheek. "I can't wait."

  She jammed the needle into his forearm. Finding a vein, she drove the plunger down.

  It felt like she had injected fire into his veins.

  It burned.

  He felt the heat race through him, carried by his circulatory system to every point in his body. When it reached his heart, he could feel that muscle hammering as if trying to break free of the prison bars that were his ribs.

  He wondered, briefly, if he had made a mistake.

  A sudden memory washed over him. His first day out of jail, after the prison term that had forever changed him.

  He was still Thomas Carlisle on this day. He had gone to a shopping mall, with a hundred dollars in his pocket, to buy some clothes that didn't look like the kind issued to ex-cons by the system. He hated criminals; he certainly didn't want to look like one.

  It was the height of the Christmas shopping season. The place was packed. People everywhere, rushing around, huge shopping bags in their hands bumping into other people. Music blared from unseen speakers, holiday music, but no one listened to it; they were all caught up in the bustle of their own tiny lives.

  He hated it.

  A big space full of people—it was everything he despised, and everything he feared. He panicked. When a woman blinded by the three large boxes she carried slammed into him from behind, he whirled, knocking the boxes flying from her hands. Then he pushed her down, and, her screams ringing in his ears, began to run aimlessly.