They Promised Me the Gun Wasn't Loaded

by James Alan Gardner

  I glance at the vortex. Dakini and the medi-tank have gone through now. I pick up Reaper and toss him inside. He disappears. As I pick up Stephens, I say to Marian, “Converting the vortex will go faster if I help. We’ll be sure to finish in time.”

  I lean in to look at the toothpaste-covered circuits. Marian spreads her hands over them protectively. “I don’t need your help, Jools. But your friend Zircon does. You’re the only one who can hook up the medi-tank.”

  She’s right, dammit. Aria and Dakini—Miranda and Shar—may be science students, but they do real science, not Cape Tech. I’m the only one who can jury-rig the medi-tank and save Zircon. I’ll have to trust Marian to do what needs doing.

  I toss one Renfield, then the other, into the energy swirl. Sayonara, S&S.

  I pat Marian on the shoulder. “So long, dude. Good luck.”

  “Good-bye, Jools,” she says. “I’m not sorry for being a bitch. But I’m sorry for being a bitch to you.”

  I hesitate in front of the vortex. A foot as strong as Ninja Jane’s hits me from behind and kicks me through.

  * * *

  ABRUPTLY, I’M BACK IN Waterloo. I recognize where I am: the roof of the university library. The rest of campus spreads out ten stories below me.

  The wind up here is fucking freezing. But it’s blowing hard enough to sweep the place clear of snow. Nothing underfoot but a bare graveled surface.

  Several huge antennas and receiver dishes rise above the roof. This is the highest point on campus, so it’s the base of a major cell-phone tower and also perfect for satellite uplinks and other comm facilities. I even see a contraption that looks like a sea urchin made of copper and gold. A Cape Tech gizmo … unless it’s a student art installation, which is not beyond the realm of possibility.

  The antennas have the usual signal lights to warn off airplanes, but apart from that, I’m surrounded by darkness. The only lights level with the rooftop are dim glows from Dakini and Aria.

  The two of them stand at the foot of the cell tower. They’ve parked the medi-tank beside an electrical transformer that feeds a satellite dish. The tank’s lid is open and I assume they’ve put Zircon inside. Everything’s ready for me to wire the tank to the transformer.

  But Aria and Dakini aren’t looking at me. They’re staring up into the sky.

  I follow their gaze. A ball of light shines directly over our heads. It’s marginally bigger than the background stars, but it beams more fiercely than all the stars combined.

  Sherwood has started its final descent.

  But I won’t let myself worry about that now. I have to plug in the tank and save Zircon. It’s up to Marian to keep us from being crushed.

  I race to join my friends. It’s only when I stop in front of the medi-tank that I realize I don’t have tools. Not so much as a screwdriver.

  Shit.

  I say, “Dakini, I’m going to need you.”

  “Of course,” she replies. “What should I do?”

  “Your telekinesis,” I say. “Can you use it like a wrench? And maybe wire cutters?”

  “I expect so,” she says.

  “Then open that up,” I say, pointing to a service panel on the transformer. “Please.”

  While Dakini gets to work, I look into the tank. Zircon lies inside, still less than half human size. Also ze’s fully dressed. “Aria,” I say, “you’ll have to take off Zirc’s clothes. Comm ring, too. Otherwise the tank might not work.”

  Aria looks aghast for a moment—not mentally prepared for undressing a friend. Then she takes a sharp breath and says, “Of course.” Gingerly, fingertips only, she reaches into the tank.

  I watch for a moment to make sure she can force herself to do it. Then I grab the tank’s power cable and start prying back the outer insulation to get at the wires inside.

  A golden glow springs up around us. Aria is still working on Zircon, but she’s also erected a force field around us all. I can’t believe the field will protect us if something as heavy as Sherwood hits us at terminal velocity … and even if the force field holds, the library will be demolished under our feet. But Aria clearly wants to make the gesture. If nothing else, it’s blocking the icy wind.

  How long do we have left? It seems like more than four minutes since Sherwood started falling, but we’re running on Spark time now. A hell of a lot gets compressed into just a few seconds, as if our time perception stretches out like a rubber band.

  Dakini has unscrewed the bolts on the transformer’s access panel. Inside is normal electrical wiring—nothing like the Mad Genius stuff Marian was coating with toothpaste. For a moment I think about what I saw, before Marian spread her hands to prevent me from getting a good look.

  Stop it, Jools! This is no time to get distracted. “Dakini,” I say, “can you detach that wire there?”

  A telekinetic strand extends into the circuit box. Its violet glow changes the colors of all the wires. “You mean this one?” Dakini asks.

  “No, that,” I say pointing. But my finger blocks the view. “Look,” I say, “just read my mind.”

  “People hate when I do that,” she says.

  “I’m not people. I’m a Spark. Do it.”

  I don’t feel any change. Zircon says Spark-o-Vision can see when Dakini hooks into another person’s brain, but to me the effect is invisible. I just watch the violet telekinetic strand finally move in the direction I want. Another strand joins it … and another, and another …

  I zone out a little, getting my Mad Genius on. But this zoning out is featherlight, like the buzz I used to get from a single glass of beer. The wiring job is mostly vanilla—the medi-tank’s cable is only a wee bit Cape Techy. So my brain stays clear. I feel a titch cheated that I don’t have to use any toothpaste …

  Why toothpaste? I try to understand, but can’t.

  Fucking hell. This is as annoying as analyzing Diamond’s stupid gun.

  Except it wasn’t Diamond’s gun, was it? The bazooka was only a mock-up designed to give the impression of being Cape Tech.

  It didn’t really work. It only looked like it should.

  Behind me the medi-tank starts to hum. Red LEDs light up around the lid. Each LED is the size of a shirt button and separated from its neighbors by a space of three fingers. The pattern reminds me of the eye spots that circle the rims of bivalve shells. The fact that the lights are red makes me worry—red usually means something is wrong—but perhaps they’ll go green one by one as Zirc is slowly put back together.

  Yes. I tell myself that’s how the tank works.

  My brain defizzes from its Mad Genius buzz. I realize the roof is much more brilliantly lit than when we arrived. Fiery light blazes down from the sky. Sherwood Forest has grown to the size of the moon, but shines so incandescently, I can’t look at it directly.

  We watch the forest fall, Aria, Dakini, and I.

  I can see Aria and Dakini asking themselves if there’s anything they can do. Maybe Aria wonders if she should fly up to meet the plummeting forest … plant her hands on its underbelly and push up as hard as she can to slow its descent. Maybe Dakini is wondering the same. But as soon as they got close, they’d be cremated by the forest’s enveloping flames. Besides, neither of them is strong enough to pull a tree out of the ground, let alone bear the weight of thousands of trees and the soil they grow in.

  The oncoming fireball burns brighter, as bright as the noonday sun. I imagine the light waking people in their beds. They go to the window and look out, not understanding what they see.

  Aria takes my hand. Her golden force field surrounds us. She says, “Jools…”

  “Shush,” I tell her. “Marian will get this done. Nick of time, right? The Light always likes a show.”

  And it’s true: both the Light and the Dark love rescues with only milliseconds to spare. I just hope the Light gets the timing right.

  The superheated Sherwood has grown so bright, the shine hurts even with my eyes closed. The roar of the forest plunging through the atmosp
here is louder than standing next to a jet engine. I don’t just hear it; I feel it shake my entire body.

  I cover one of my ears with my free hand. Aria won’t let the other go.

  Then a colossal sucking sound. The light blinks out. Total darkness. And relative silence … except for car alarms going off all over the city.

  I open my eyes. Sherwood Forest has vanished.

  “See?” I say. “Marian had it under control.”

  Dakini says, “When I was in contact with your mind, I saw what she had planned. Dying heroically to save us all.”

  I wave my hand dismissively. “Nah. That’s only what she wanted us to believe. I mean, toothpaste. Really? Really? And when I tried to see what she was actually doing, she hid it.”

  “Why?” Aria asks.

  “She was faking,” I say. “Think about it: back when she built Sherwood Forest, she must have realized she couldn’t keep it secret forever. Sooner or later, someone would track down where it was … at which point the Darklings would mount a full-scale attack. What could Marian do when that happened?”

  Aria says, “Fake a crash?”

  “Exactly. Why did Sherwood even start falling in the first place? You two were part of the assault; during the preparations, didn’t somebody say, Whatever you fucking do, don’t make the forest crash?”

  Dakini nods. “Essentially in those exact words.”

  “But we all felt Sherwood lurch,” I say. “And if somebody was tampering with Sherwood’s machinery, that should have been a warning to stop. Then more lurches. Big old danger signals saying, Leave things alone! Would anyone be crazy enough to keep on messing with the equipment? Of course not. But the problems got worse, then we started to plummet. Meanwhile, in the clean room, Marian made sure she had witnesses to her heroic attempts to salvage the situation. Ending in her tragic just-in-time sacrifice.”

  “Are you saying it was all a trick?” Aria asks.

  “Pretty much. Marian built Sherwood Forest so she could make it die spectacularly if and when an attack finally happened. That included what looked like obliteration at the last second: so bright and loud that no one could see or hear anything. Not even someone with amazing sensors, like Sensorium.”

  “But what really happened?” Aria asks.

  “Sherwood was never as damaged as it seemed. No one on the attack squad was stupid enough to break whatever kept Sherwood airborne. The lurch-and-fall routine was a big dramatic production designed by Marian herself. And when Sherwood got close enough to the ground, it didn’t self-destruct. The whole place just teleported elsewhere.”

  “So it’s still intact,” Dakini says. “Probably in the stratosphere again.”

  I nod. “Eventually, Robin and his gang will reappear, pretending they all evacuated before their HQ got sucked into oblivion. Neither Marian nor Ninja Jane will ever be seen again … but someone similar with a new mask and costume will appear at Robin Hood’s side. No one will recognize her as Marian, any more than people recognized me as Ninety-Nine when I was Willow Scarlet.”

  “Damn,” Aria says with admiration in her voice. “Hats off to Marian. I want to strangle her, but credit where credit is due.”

  “And she did let us have the medi-tank,” I say, patting the lid. “I want to strangle her, too, but I won’t give away her secret.” I pat the tank again. “We owe her.”

  22

  Population Renewal

  DAKINI MAKES VIOLET LAWN chairs, so we can sit and wait. Aria surrounds us with a golden force dome; it shuts out the wind and holds in our body heat like a tent. After a while, I put on the Willow Scarlet mask to become a full Spark again. It’s probably just psychological, but my Halo helps keep me warm.

  After a few minutes, one of the red LEDs on the medi-tank’s lid changes to green. We breathe a sigh of relief. There are dozens of red lights left, but now it’s only a matter of time.

  The ghost of dawn has begun to creep above the horizon when the last LED goes green. We leap from our chairs. Aria naturally reaches the tank first … but she holds back from opening it, stepping aside to let me do the honors.

  I suppose she worries it’s not as simple as it looks. But nothing fancy is involved—the lid doesn’t even have a fastener. There’s just a little resistance as I lift the top, and we gaze down on K.

  Ze looks back at the three of us, hesitates a moment, then says, “Oh, Auntie Em, I had the strangest dream.”

  * * *

  I CAN’T HELP MYSELF. I haul K out of the tank for the strongest hug I can give. Doesn’t matter that ze’s naked and gooey with medi-tank fluids.

  Well, it doesn’t matter to me. K seems a titch uncomfortable. Ze shrinks by an inch and turns into rocky Zircon. Still naked, of course, but looking like a classical stone statue.

  It’s a good look for zir. Next time I go over to Fine Arts and make money modeling in the nude, I should take Zirc with me.

  I should take Zirc everywhere I go. I should take all my friends, and never let them out of my sight again.

  Hugs, hugs, hugs, and attempted high fives.

  My roommates all suck at high fives.

  I love them anyway.

  * * *

  WE SMUGGLE THE MEDI-TANK into our town house’s basement. I’ll need to adapt it to run on household current, but that’s a boring piece of cake. I’ll have a lot more fun figuring out how to replace the reptile DNA with my own cells. Once I do that, the healing process will run much faster and will handle the direst of injuries. If any of my teammates gets hurt, they’ll survive provided we get them back home quickly enough.

  I’ll have to make myself a new costume and a new costume-changer. I’ll study the Willow Scarlet outfit closely—it would be great to have bulletproof clothes. I think I can make something just as light but a lot tougher. Maybe starting with hagfish slime.

  For the costume-changer, I’ll need more of Zircon’s cells. But I’ll get Shar to bake some cookies as a bribe.

  Now that I think of it, I’ll have to make Zircon a costume-changer, too. Zir old one will have been “cleansed” by the medi-tank. But at least Zirc still has the costume itself—Miranda saved the clothes after stripping Zirc down for the medi-tank.

  Speaking of which, I’d better warn K about the “paying a price” possibility. I’m not certain the medi-tank really tweaked my powers and destroyed my ability to drink … but in case that’s a side effect of using the tank, I’d better give Zirc a heads-up.

  Yeah, that won’t be an awkward conversation. Maybe I should practice doing the Awkward Turtle like Friar Tuck.

  Other things: I’ll need a new comm ring from Invie. Unless I make one myself.

  Or maybe a comm IUD, so it’s harder for someone to take away. Besides, how many villains would even think to check?

  (Note to self: consider making communication IUDs for all my teammates.)

  (Further note to self: make sure I’m channeling the most tactful person ever when I broach the subject with Miranda.)

  But before I get back to being Ninety-Nine, I have to tie up Jools’s loose ends. So I change into my cleanest leggings and a bright green T-shirt with Darwin’s picture on it. I also put on appropriate makeup, which Aria criticizes for being excessive until I point out that you need more makeup than normal if you’re going to be on television.

  Yes. We intend to do some super PR. Which is why Aria hurries off to enhance her makeup, too. When we’re finished, we agree we’ll both look fabulous under bright lights.

  We fly off to meet our teammates at the studios of CKCO TV. By the time we arrive, it’s almost 7:00 A.M. Zirc and Dakini have wielded their Halos (and possibly Dakini’s mind-control powers) to arrange an interview on the station’s breakfast-time show. We’re telegenic AF as my teammates lie about how they rescued me from the clutches of Robin Hood, and I (in my civvies) mostly tell the truth about my supposed death at the hands of the outlaws.

  “Actually, the Merry Men saved my life,” I say. “Maid Marian put me into a healin
g machine that made me as good as new. They treated me well while I was there. What? Oh. As far as I can tell, the only reason Sherwood nearly crashed was because of a carelessly destructive raid organized by government forces. Maid Marian sacrificed her life to protect thousands of lives from the irresponsible actions of Darkling agencies.”

  I lay it on thick. Have I mentioned I’m the most charming TV personality in the world? By the time I’m finished, the Dark Guard’s name is shit. I imagine the Elders of the Dark giving Calon Arang a serious rap on her devious knuckles. It’s one thing to fail at capturing Robin Hood, but it’s quite another to get blamed for a near disaster that incidentally turns Marian into a heroic martyr.

  Throughout it all, the interviewer seems dazzled by my teammates’ Halos. He practically drools over Aria—her Halo has that effect. But the man retains enough presence of mind to ask a per tinent question: doesn’t Waterloo have four new Spark protectors? Where is good ol’ Ninety-Nine?

  Dakini answers with a straight face, “Ninety-Nine was injured at the Transylvania Club during a fight with the supervillain Diamond. We expect a full recovery, but she recuperates quite slowly compared to the rest of us.”

  “Yes, she’s delicate,” Zircon says. “Poor Ninety-Nine.”

  “Very delicate,” Aria agrees.

  “But in her honor,” I say, “the team has decided to name itself the Ninety-Nine Percent.” I smile at the others. “Isn’t that what you were telling me before we went on air?”

  “Well, you heard it here first!” says the interviewer. “Waterloo Region has a new super team named the Ninety-Nine Percent…”

  My teammates and I all smile.

  My smile isn’t forced.

  * * *

  AFTER THE INTERVIEW, THEY all yell at me. “The Ninety-Nine Percent?!?!”

  Aria says, “That’s … that’s … that’s actually not bad.”

  “Could be worse,” Zircon says.

  Dakini narrows her eyes. “We’ll talk.”

  * * *

  WHEN WE GET HOME, I want to climb into bed and sleep the day away. I’m sure my friends do, too.