Sleep eventually came—no dreams, no nightmares, only slumber.
It was a perfect night of rest, the best Roman had experienced in ages. The next morning came suddenly, and as soon as he felt life come into him again, Roman knew what he needed to do.
I’m turning myself in. Let me know how you would like me to do that, Roman thought to Ava.
He dozed off for a moment, wishing he could rest in this hotel room all day, but he didn’t want anyone else to be injured. He didn’t want Centralian forces to track Nadine down, nor did he want to see any civilian deaths if they tried to come for him here.
Roman simply wanted closure.
A message came in from Ava instructing him to meet her at her apartment, that she was alone, that they would speak briefly before she personally turned him in.
Roman told the dolls to get dressed, and he tried to ignore the sad look on Celia’s face as she got into her costume. She approached him and turned, Roman zipping up the back.
“What about Casper?” Coma asked.
“What about her?”
Coma gave Roman a shrug. “Well, if we’re all going to be deanimated here, we could just leave her in the hotel room…”
“I heard that, you dirty mask-wearing superbitch,” Casper said, yawning as she sat up. “If Roman is abandoning the two of you, he’ll be abandoning me with you. That’s final.”
Coma rolled her eyes as she finished putting her mask on.
“Let’s not fight, not now,” Roman said.
“She threatened to leave me here,” Casper said as she hopped off her pillow and ran to the edge of the bed. “Why would anyone want to leave someone like me? I know I haven’t been as helpful lately as I would like to be, but that’s because you keep taking my power away from me.”
“We’re not leaving anyone,” Roman assured her.
“So that’s it?” Celia asked.
“I’m not the type to postpone the inevitable,” said Roman as he too got dressed. Without much to wear, he would be showing up in his pajamas.
“The least you can do is show up wearing a suit and tie—anything,” Casper said, still on the bed, judging Roman with her hands on her hips.
“None of that matters now.”
“We could run,” Coma said, voicing her opinion for once. “I don’t mind running and fighting anyone who tries to stop us.”
“I’ll fight too,” said Celia.
“I can’t do a lot, but I definitely will do my best to help us get away,” Casper volunteered. “Even if that means I get left behind at some point. While I can’t believe I’m saying something like that, I just…”
“Yes?” Roman asked her.
“I guess I like being alive. In fact, I like being alive more than you two,” she told the other dolls. “And maybe even more than you, Roman.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Because you are alive now, and what you’re essentially doing by turning yourself in is signing your death warrant. They may not kill you, but they could, and even if they don’t, they will probably take your power away.”
“We don’t know that yet.”
“It doesn’t mean it won’t happen,” said Casper.
“Let’s just go, all of you. This isn’t up for discussion. It’s what has to be done.”
“I’m not going to say anything,” Casper whispered as she turned to Coma, the masked doll dropping her hand down, giving Casper something to latch on to so she could climb up her arm and eventually settle in a pocket on the front of her dress.
Roman had the urge to go to the window.
He knew that it looked out on an alley, that there was nothing beautiful about what he would see on the other side, but he felt like it was something he needed to do, something to remind him of what he was giving up.
So he ignored the instinct.
Roman wasn’t going to give himself the pleasure of admitting defeat. Not now, not when there may still be a way out of this. He didn’t know what that way would be, but he knew it would begin with turning himself in.
“Wait,” Celia said, coming forward and falling back into Roman’s arms. She lifted her lips to his and kissed him, her eyes filled with an unbearable amount of sadness.
“I’m sorry,” Roman said just as a teleporter appeared, a heavy man with a handlebar mustache, his skin tan and his eyes a piercing blue.
He confirmed the teleportation destination with Roman and the man crossed his arms over his chest, smoke billowing out of his nostrils. The smoke engulfed Roman and his dolls, and soon, they were standing in front of Ava’s door, the teleporter leaving just as soon as he’d come, a bit of haze in his wake.
“All right, here goes,” Roman said as he brought his hand to Ava’s door, hesitating for a moment before finally knocking.
Ava opened a minute or so later, wearing her exemplar uniform—no mask, though.
Her brow furrowed when she saw Roman, but her eyes softened a little, the windows to her soul betraying the anger she was supposed to feel.
“Here I am,” Roman said.
“I see that. Come in.”
“We don’t want him to turn himself in,” Casper said from Coma’s pocket.
“Roman, please deactivate your dolls,” Ava told him once he had entered, the door shut behind Celia.
Roman nodded over to two chairs pressed against the wall, and Coma and Celia slowly moved over to them.
Coma sat first, unable to make eye contact with Roman.
Celia made eye contact with him, pleading as best she could.
“I will see you three soon,” Roman started to say.
“Lies,” was the last word out of Casper’s mouth as life was stripped from the three dolls. Casper and Coma looked as they normally did; only Celia’s face still seemed sad.
Roman stared down at his bare feet for a moment. “What now?”
“Now?” Ava put her mask on, which matched the overall theme of her outfit. She’d worn a different color the previous time he’d seen her in her uniform, a red number with blue streaks on the side. Her current uniform was black with yellow stitching that highlighted her shapely figure. “Now, I take you into custody.”
“Should I have a lawyer, or something?” Roman asked, almost as an afterthought. He was pretty sure what was about to happen next was well outside the scope of the Centralian legal system.
“Nope, you aren’t going to the police.”
“And where are you taking me?”
“To answer your question, I’m taking you to the Lottery Council. Roman, now that you are turning yourself in, there will have to be an investigation into what you have done.”
“Okay, an investigation. But why the Council?”
“There were dozens of deaths because of what you did, all because of your selfish desire to get revenge, and they are the ones who gave you the power.”
“I’m aware.”
“But luckily for you, charges of manslaughter aren’t being put on your shoulders; every charge has been levied on Margo, and since she’s dead, she cannot stand trial. I don’t suppose you have checked out the news today, have you?”
“I was actively avoiding it,” he admitted. “I didn’t want to open a paper and see my own face.”
“You aren’t in any newspaper today, nor will you be in any newspaper tomorrow,” she told him. “The attack is being framed as something committed by a crazed Western spy, one who survived the Western Plague and had been holed up in Centralia planning this terrorist attack over the last several days. If only the authorities could have gotten there in time to stop her,” Ava said sarcastically.
“It’s a cover-up?” Roman asked.
“It is indeed.”
“But why?”
“Gee, how do you think the public would react if they knew the truth? That a person who stole the hero ticket from his coworker and received an incredible power used it to wage war on a city block? And what if the people reporting that story dug a little bit deeper? Wh
at if they reported that this person’s powers were approved earlier than they should have been, that this approval emboldened him? And if they’re really good journalists, what if they found the connection to the East? That this same man had also traveled to a foreign country and destroyed a military facility there? How do you think that would play out?”
Roman shuddered, feeling the weight of what he had done. “I didn’t think about that.”
“Of course you didn’t think about that; you didn’t think about any of this. But we have handled that part, because it’s not a very far stretch to place the blame on someone like Margo, the same woman who attacked Prison South and who’s been responsible for a number of deaths across our country. It’s easy to blame her.”
“Kevin was there,” Roman said suddenly. “Did you know that part?”
“Kevin Blackbook?”
“Yes, I saw him there after the building came down. But he fled the scene.”
“You should have done something to stop him,” said Ava. “That may have given you a little bit of leverage considering he is facing charges of fratricide.”
“He killed his brother?”
“Among other people. But someone will get him at some point. I mean, really, how long before Kevin gets himself killed? Running around with his cat girls and whoever else he’s partnered with. Speaking of which, one of his partners, a telepath named James Tew, was found dead at the scene. So there’s that as well. Maybe an investigator will pick up on this thread and run with it. But I’m not too concerned about Mr. Blackbook.”
“Ava, before all this happens, I just want you to know that I’m sorry. I know that my actions won’t lead anyone to believe I am experiencing remorse for what I’ve done, and I know that what I did was selfish. And I’m sorry. I care about you,” he said, barely getting the last several words out. “I appreciate how much you have taught me. And I still want to be your student.”
“Roman, no,” she said, her throat tensing.
“I’m just saying this, and I’m sorry—I’m so sorry for what I’ve done. I know it has put a lot of pressure on you, and I hope it hasn’t done anything to your career.”
“Hasn’t done anything to my career?” Ava asked, her hair flaring up, flames spreading down her arms.
“Easy, please,” Roman said, backing away.
He did not, like any sane person, want Ava to burn him alive. But if she attacked him, he would let it happen, at least until his survival instincts came into play. Until that point, he would do everything he could to not fight back.
“I don’t even want to talk about that part of this,” Ava said, the flames starting to die away.
“I know I fucked up, but I got her,” Roman said. “Margo will never be a problem for anyone else. You saw it, and I saw it. She’s dead now.”
“To be quite honest with you, I believe that’s the only reason the Council is deciding to look into this matter. Come, this will only get worse if we stay here.”
The Lottery Council was the same as Roman remembered, perched above him, all wearing white robes. Ava’s sister sat at the head of the Council, the older woman the only member wearing a hood over her head.
“Roman Martin,” she said as he approached, Ava stepping off to the right.
They had arrived just a few moments ago and been greeted in the lobby by Mister Fist, the masked exemplar giving Roman a look that could split the moon. In that moment, Roman noticed something familiar about the way Mister Fist looked at him, but he didn’t have long to say anything before he was called in.
“Your honor,” Roman said, bowing his head slightly, feeling foolish that he was standing in his pajamas. “Your honors,” he said, addressing the entire Council.
“We’re glad to see you dressed for the occasion,” the man with white hair said, cracking a grin.
“Gary,” the lead Council woman said. “That’s quite enough.”
Roman wondered what her name was in that moment, realizing that Ava had never mentioned her by name. He quickly banished this thought, well aware that there was a telepath in the room.
He recalled one of them reading his mind last time. Something about the Council made him think they were all connected in some way to the telepath, which he had heard of before, a single telepath strong enough to grant others slivers of their power.
“Before you do whatever it is you are going to do,” Roman said, “I just want to express my sincere gratitude for granting this power to me, and to Ava for training me so well. My actions were my own. I have been through a lot over the last few years, which I’m sure you will all know about. Seeing my wife taken was the final straw for me. I couldn’t let this type of injustice happen.”
“We have rules, Mr. Roman,” said Ava’s sister.
“And I broke those rules. I don’t know what happens next, but I just want to express my gratitude, and my remorse for what I’ve done,” Roman said, looking up at them with his orange eyes. “I’m sorry for putting others’ lives at risk, for the death I caused, and for abusing my power, but I’m not sorry for killing the woman who violated my wife’s corpse. And no matter what you do to me, it is not something I will ever be sorry for. As for everything else, however, you have my sincere apologies.”
He bowed his head again, looking down to his bare feet.
Rather than wish that Ava had ordered some clothes for him to wear, Roman simply closed his eyes, waiting for whatever would happen next to hurry up and happen.
“We have taken your powers away,” Ava’s sister said after a momentary pause.
“What?” Roman asked, looking up at her.
He’d known this was coming, but hearing the woman’s words still took him off guard. The words vibrated inside him, ricocheting across his psyche.
Roman immediately tried to animate the floor, stretching his fingers wide and then bringing them back in.
Nothing.
“My powers,” he said, feeling a rise in his chest, trying to calm himself with a deep breath.
“There will be an investigation into what you have done,” Ava’s sister said. “At the end of that investigation, we will decide if you get to keep your powers or not. I personally don’t think that you should ever be allowed to have anything resembling the power you had before, and that you should be in jail. I’m expressing this opinion now to let you know that isn’t up to me, that we will have a vote on it, but you know where my vote lies. Our deliberations will take at least a month, and some have gone on even longer. So I wouldn’t expect an answer anytime soon.”
“Yes,” Roman said, his eyes still closed, trying not to show any emotion.
“I suggest that you do your best to assimilate back into Centralian society until that time. Because your home is destroyed, we will provide temporary housing for you while you find employment. You will also be monitored through the use of an ankle bracelet,” Ava’s sister said. “You aren’t under house arrest or anything, but I would invite you to stay in your home as much as possible; that is, until you find a job. And don’t remove the bracelet.”
“I understand…”
“I really mean it. You need to find work, Mr. Martin. The odds of you coming out of this with the ability to animate inanimate objects again are low. You have breached our trust, you have embarrassed your teacher, your actions have resulted in the deaths of dozens of Centralian citizens and ruined an entire city block of homes and businesses. That’s not to mention the fact that you were working with an Eastern Province spy, or your trip to the East, for that matter, or your attack on the immigration office. I know that all of these different situations have their own reasons, and we will be looking at each and every one of them. We may call you forward for testimony, or we may not. Your job now is to simply wait for us to make our decision.”
“As you wish,” Roman said.
“Now, go, so we can begin our investigation.”
Roman turned, not able to look up at the Council members, not able to lift his head, wishing he co
uld just curl up in a ball on the ground. Instead, he took a step forward, followed by another step, wishing he had his power so he could use it to move himself forward.
Eventually, he reached the door, Ava at his side, both of them stepping into the hallway outside the Council room.
“A teleporter will be here soon,” Ava told Roman. She nodded to Mister Fist, who stood near the door, still scowling at Roman. The strongman came forward with an ankle bracelet, which he handed to Roman.
Roman bent over and strapped the ankle bracelet on, the device coming to life with the flash of a blue light across its surface. In a way, it reminded Roman of his power dial.
“You will be allowed to rest today and tomorrow, but then it is time for you to find gainful employment,” Ava said. “I have volunteered to check in on you from time to time, which is something the people around me have suggested I don’t do. I want to make sure you get out of this successfully and are able to reintegrate into society.”
“Ava…”
“No, Roman. The teleporter will be here, and I will see you in two days. Please do not message me; I will message you before I come. You will need to get some clothing, but there should already be something available at your temporary housing location.”
“Yes, thank you,” Roman said, biting his lip as he continued to stare at his bare feet. “And my dolls?”
“Goodbye, Roman,” Ava said as she turned away and joined Mister Fist.
The teleporter came, Roman barely paying attention to the woman as they zipped away. The last thing he saw was Ava discussing something with Mr. Fist, his teacher unable to look Roman in the face as he left.
He appeared in a small room with a small sofa against the wall and a bed near the window. There was a kitchenette, a dining room table with four chairs around it, and a tiny bathroom.
But that wasn’t what caught Roman’s attention.
What caught his attention were Celia and Coma, who sat at the table, completely lifeless.
The teleporter was gone by the time Roman was able to muster the courage to move his feet again, and once he could, he went to Celia, lifting the lifeless doll into his arms and carrying her over to the sofa.
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