Lantern noted flames licking out from the other side of the jet’s burning carcass. The fire was slowly spreading, inching its way toward the jet fuel at Ray’s feet.
Fiona and the Photuris spun through space. The black spear points still stabbed deep into Fiona’s torso, draining her life’s essence. The pull and flow of the sun’s power her only defense.
The Photuris did not resist. As Fiona gained more power, so too did the Photuris, soaking in energy from both the Fire Fly and the sun that powered her.
Fiona stopped one hundred miles from the surface. Its power was once again all-consuming. She pried her head away from the battle and glared into the massive face of the life-giving star. The immense ocean of reds, oranges, and yellows boiled and exploded, churning across the surface for as far as her eyes could see.
She was no longer yellow-green, the robot no longer jet black. The sun’s radiance glowed all over both of them, casting them in its own fiery visage.
Waves of energy and heat washed over Fiona in pulses of indescribable power. She sent super-charged waves of bioluminescence into the Photuris.
The robot dutifully absorbed it all.
The effort was straining the Photuris. Fiona could feel the spear points loosen, soften, as the robot shifted its focus to the enormous task of absorbing so much celestial power.
Unfortunately, it was having a similar effect on Fiona.
She swooned.
And pushed herself even closer to the sun. The Photuris finally began to yield. The spear points of black energy that were stabbed into Fiona’s torso began to fade.
Fiona gazed directly into the boiling mass of the star and drank in its power. She could feel her own strength expanding. The Photuris began to vibrate.
But Fiona was slipping away.
From consciousness.
From life.
Bioluminescence consumed her.
The human essence began to die.
Which would happen faster? Would the robot drain her before the sun could overpower it? She could no longer tell which was having the stronger effect on her. She felt her heart rate jump. Her vision darkened.
Should could take no more chances.
Even if she died, she could not allow this monstrosity to survive.
She cursed herself...and teleported them to the very surface of the sun. And there, in the brightest spot known to humankind, her world went dark.
Ninety-three million miles away, Becky Collins began to swoon. The battle raged around her; the girls had spread out by now. They were focusing much of their energy on the Aztech. Taking turns attacking and blocking. But the monster machine was picking them off one by one. Becky counted only Arcadia, the Connors sisters, and herself left.
Yet her thoughts kept getting pulled to Fiona. Somehow she knew what the girl was feeling.
The nausea slammed into her once again.
The glowing voi fell from her hands. “Fiona!” she cried. Her knees gave in, and she fell to them, there in the midst of the mêlée.
She thought of only one thing: the girl was in trouble. She could feel it through every bone in her body.
On the surface of the sun, the Photuris drained her. Fiona’s body was limp, her mind barely aware, her sight gone. Her body hung backwards, bent at the knees, arms trialing limply at her side.
Yet Fiona somehow heard a voice calling to her through the shadows of her unconscious mind.
Becky’s voice.
The robot was beginning to shred apart as pieces of its black-energy skin flecked away and were drawn like magnets into the belching surface of the massive star.
The black energy impacted as pools of shadow on the roiling orange surface that stretched forever, as far as the robot could see in all directions.
The largest, most spectacular horizon in the solar system.
Becky Collins felt a rumble in her head. It invaded her ears. It was some kind of force trying to pull her focus away.
But she would not let it.
Her girl needed her, and that was all that mattered. She thought of Fiona, warm and wet against her in the long nights in the cabin. She thought of her fearful eyes when they had first met, just a scared and hurting child, now grown into a woman. A savior.
She thought of the parents that were ripped from Fiona so long ago. The loss the girl had felt, the loneliness, the sacrifices to be in the Resistance.
The Revolution’s betrayal.
How much she had suffered.
Becky rose from her knees, and her eyes slammed shut, despite the flying projectiles swarming around her. They zinged by so close she felt her hair chase after their wake.
She focused only on her mission. The reason she had been chosen.
She was so sure of it now. So sure of why she had found the girl alone in those woods so many months ago. She focused every ounce of herself into one, powerful, unyielding thought and emotion. It echoed across the vastness of time and space:
“Fiona, stay strong and true to the remarkable person you are. And know that whatever time I had on this world, I am so happy I got to spend it with you.”
Three worlds away, Fiona Fletcher opened her eyes, Becky’s words ringing through the fog of her mind—
Just as a D.C. Metro bus, directed by Kiernan Rage, aimed for his daughter but mowing over everything in its path, crunched over Becky Collins in a sickening, violent thud.
CHAPTER 61
Twenty tons of metal, fuel, and rubber smashed down.
Pulverizing bone, organs, and tissue.
Escaping from its rampaging wheels, Becky Collins’s lifeless body rolled to a stop.
Fiona felt it all.
The pain ripped through her as if it were she being smashed lifeless by those tires.
“No!” she screamed. A gut-wrenching cry of agony.
Her legs stiffened, and she stood, even as her entire world collapsed in on her.
It couldn’t be! But the image had been clear.
She knew it was true.
She dropped to her knees into the ocean of fire that was the sun’s surface.
The black spear points, already stabbing into her, ripped jagged holes of light through her bioluminescent body as she fell.
She did not care.
They might rip her head off, destroy her very soul.
She did not care.
Tears, stained orange and red from the fiery surface, rolled down her face.
Becky was dead.
Dead.
How many times had she promised that she would protect her?
The Council had made her a liar.
The Council had killed Becky!
This monster standing before her, causing such unimaginable agony her body was growing numb to it, it had killed Becky!
Anger merged with power; sadness with determination
The red-hot roiling surface of the sun was no longer her enemy.
She bathed in it.
She let it burn into the center of her soul and consume her.
She gazed upon the slowly jig-sawing Photuris and unleashed a massive whole-body beam of solar-powered bioluminescence that shredded the robot into a thousand flecks of black energy.
It showered into the solar wind in a mushroom cloud, and then, as the sun’s magnetic majesty grabbed it, the black fragments rained down on Fiona like pellets from hell.
So great was her power that this unholy brew of dark energy and antimatter simply deflected off of her, embedding themselves into the fiery skin of the star.
So many impacting at once. Fiona gazed down at the brilliant surface below her and gasped. The sadness that swept through her made her cry out when she saw it.
The surface was boiling black. Whatever the physical reaction that was taking place, it looked unworldly. Ungodly.
She felt it first.
It was like an earthquake but far more terrible. As if the entire universe had shifted beneath her.
Without further warning, the sun erupted in a white ex
plosion of fantastic lightning.
Fiona was hurtled off the surface and shot into space.
Everything was spinning.
The blackness of space and the brilliance of the sun all equally swallowed by the pure-white void that was now everywhere.
It spit Fiona out, and as she spun head over heels she realized what had happened.
She had just witnessed a massive solar eruption, up close and personal. Its power was more than she could imagine. It ruptured forth with the strength of a thousand Fionas.
And in that moment she realized…
It was headed straight for Earth.
Her full-spectrum eyes scanned the energy around her, all of it spouting out into space toward the small blue planet. The blood in Fiona’s Fire Fly form froze. A massive burst of gas and magnetic energy was headed straight toward Earth.
Enough to wipe out the entire electrical grid of the planet and send humanity back to the Stone Age.
CHAPTER 62
ONE MILE UP
WASHINGTON, D. C.
Revolution was guiding the HeliSphere straight up, but the day’s news coverage was stealing his attention.
On screen, commentators were explaining that the entire Council had now resigned, with the obvious exception of General Defense—Bannister Tarleton’s company.
The stock market was in a devastating free fall—the single largest drop in history. The economy was in utter chaos. Store shelves were emptying. Mobs lining up at banks and gas stations.
And protests. Massive anti-Council protests were still growing all across the country.
But there was some good news. The twenty-four companies that had resigned from the Council were seeing their stock declines slow. A sure sign investors had now turned against the Freedom Council, along with the rest of the country.
Even Thomas Sage and William Howke were being interviewed about leaving the Council they had once given birth to. It was all an effort to stop the slide, stop the crash. It all meant something else as well...
The end of Freedom Council had finally come.
Revolution sighed deeply. His long struggle was nearly over. He thought of his family. He thought about how much he missed them.
He ached from it.
If he were to see them again soon, he would feel nothing but relief.
His mission was over.
He tore his eyes away from the video screen to glance back at Tarleton’s prone body—
Just as a green and gold hand came rushing directly for his throat.
Reflex action.
Revolution whipped up his right arm and—clang!—the titanium claw rushing at his neck hit the armored forearm and stopped one inch from Revolution’s throat.
Tarleton stood before him. His entire body, encased in the gleaming armor, glowed a faint chartreuse. His eyes, covered by gold-tinted lenses, blazed with hatred.
“You have no idea how powerful I am becoming,” the CEO growled. Then, before Revolution could move, he punched his other arm forward and a bolt of energy swallowed Revolution, sending pain coursing through his body.
It was a mini version of Fiona’s Fire Fly power.
Revolution’s armor absorbed the painful blow, and he burst into action.
Revolution charged, tackling the CEO around the waist, but Tarleton smashed his energized fists down onto Revolution’s head just as he made impact. They sprawled across the floor of the HeliSphere.
The tight confines of the pod gave them little room to maneuver. They rolled and punched and punched and punched. It was an ugly, desperate street fight.
“You’re finished, Tarleton! The Council is over! They’ve all abandoned you!”
“I don’t care about the numbers! I’ll crush anyone who opposes me, starting with you!” Tarleton said as they grasped each other by the throat, still sprawled across the floor of the aircraft.
Revolution's eyes darted to the control panel. How much time was left before the bomb went off? He couldn’t see.
And then he felt it.
One of Tarleton’s neurological weapons grabbed him—from the brain down, wrapping around his heart and lungs. His breathing became short and hard, like oxygen itself was sparse.
His HUD fluttered.
“Feel that? I’m not just shutting down your suit,” Tarleton hissed. “I’m shutting down you.”
Revolution could not keep his hold on the CEO. He felt his gloves slip from the psychopath’s neck. His vision darkened.
“Before I die, I’m going to kill you, you son of a bitch!” Revolution seethed in a near-whisper.
He saw Tarleton rise above him, heard him cackling like a mad man. Tarleton cupped his armored hand around the back of Revolution’s neck and lifted his torso off the floor.
There was nothing Revolution could do to stop him. He had no strength, was barely conscious.
Tarleton leaned down, and the two men were nearly face to face.
Tarleton raised his fist. It glowed brightly with bioluminescence.
And swung it, cracking down across Revolution’s temple.
A crushing blow.
The world went black.
Tarleton smirked at the prone hero below him and turned back toward the control panel. The bomb was set to explode: 0:32, 0:31, 0:30.
Tarleton snickered.
He activated his suit’s bootjets.
And leaped out of the opening into the smoke-filled sky.
Kendrick Ray scanned the crater. There was no way out of this. Not with his mangled ankle. There was no way the Council was going to win. He could see that. He’d seen it coming.
Tarleton had taken things way too far.
He’d seen the military switch sides.
He’d seen the media coverage. Sage and Howke had disavowed the Council they had helped to form all those years ago.
Tarleton and Von Cyprus were truly alone.
He wondered where Arbor had gotten too.
Lantern was just glaring down at him. I’m at his mercy, Ray thought. “Hey,” Ray yelled up at him, “I’m just following orders here. I’d love to switch sides, you know? You pull me outta here, I’ll give you everything I’ve got on the Council. Just been waiting for this opportunity.”
Lantern didn’t budge.
Ray held up his hands in surrender. “Really, I have.”
Lantern scanned the pit. No way he was going down there. He thought about all the people Kendrick Ray had killed or help kill over the years.
Many of them Lantern’s friends and associates.
There was nothing Lantern was going to do help save this bastard.
They had a history.
Ray gazed up at him, the hope draining from his face.
It brought Lantern back. Memories whizzed across his mind’s eye.
He figured it was time.
He unlatched the chin straps and lifted his helmet off his head, peering down at Ray.
The realization rolled across Ray’s face like napalm in a jungle.
He was staring at a face so familiar that his brain wouldn’t accept it at first.
It was like he had seen a ghost.
In a way, he had. “Alvarez?” Ray breathed.
Lantern watched as the flames drew closer to the gas tanks.
“Diego Alvarez?” Ray said again, as if saying the name might make the reality go away.
Ray’s eyes widened as he thought about his long history with Diego Alvarez, with Lantern. And if the two men were one and the same—
The angry tongues of flame licked the pooled jet fuel at last and, in an instant, ignited. It rode the trail straight into the Viper’s engines.
The pit exploded.
The fuel tanks ruptured as the entire crater was swallowed in a gulf of raging fire.
Lantern was blown back from the edge. He raised up on his haunches to see the bombed-out, charred results.
“Justice,” Lantern said.
He stood there for a moment, taking in the grisly end to his nemesis.<
br />
Then jumped on the Harley and rode back into the heart of the battle.
Ward was dodging tracer fire and the occasional blast from the Aztech. He concentrated his disabling darts on the busses that were now tromping through the Mall, mowing through their forces. All of them headed for Scarlett.
Minutemen tried to stop them. They fired at the engines, tires, gas tanks, anything to stop the busses.
But fighting the Council today was fighting a single mind. It was all part of a larger, unified strategy.
He peered down and saw the circle of “Fionettes” dancing and fighting.
Literally dancing and fighting.
“Don’t worry, Emma. There will be dancing at the revolution,” he quipped to himself. “Evidently.”
“Who’s Emma?” Rachel asked over the com, and Ward realized he’d had his com line open.
“Nevermi—”
A barrage of orange beams chased him across the sky as the Aztech took aim at him. He barely dodged them.
A dozen drones peeled off and headed for him as well.
Ward veered away hard.
“Hey, how’s about I draw the drones off the rest of you! Thank me later!”
He dove down and landed behind the concrete curvature of the Hirshhorn Museum.
Out of breath.
The drones flew on past him, no longer interested. The hive mind was selective and strategic, it seemed. On the ground he wasn’t a main threat.
And the hive mind was taking its toll on their plan.
“The coms are back up, but this isn’t working. We can’t get the Lady to the Tramp!”
“X-Ray’s down. No more blocking our coms,” Lantern said.
An orange blast of Aztech energy ripped through the top of the museum. Ward sprinted out of the path of the falling debris.
The museum was designed like an elevated doughnut. It was hollow in the center and sat on four large concrete feet. This allowed one to walk under the actual building—exactly what Ward did to avoid being waylaid by falling concrete—and gave him a clear view of the Mall.
The Suns of Liberty (Book 3): Republic Page 40
