by Brett P. S.
Star shut her eyes and felt her consciousness going under.
Chapter 10
Race Against Time
Paris, France
“The secret of the formation of Resotek cores lies in a specific subset of Manipulators known as a Transmuter. While Elementalist Transmuters exist, Manipulator Transmuters can change the properties of most ordinary matter to the material over which they hold power. While the atomic structure of said matter bears no distinction from its naturally occurring or manufactured equivalent, it can sometimes be receptive to resonance. Pair a Transmuter with a Manipulator of the same or similar type and the end result is stored resonance potential for the end user.” – Old UN.C. Order Knowledge Division
Caleb bolted through city streets and across rooftops on veritable wings with his graphite rush. Thick clouds blanketed a starlit sky, obscuring a portion of moonlight, which made it even more difficult to pick out Star between his movements. He was looking for a single filament inside a metaphorical heap, but that wouldn’t stop him quite yet. He stopped from one dash and stood atop an apartment flat.
Most of the buildings in Paris weren’t so high, save for Fortune Tower. Money apparently could buy one’s way past safety regulations. Because of the way Paris was constructed, new buildings weren’t allowed to rise more than a handful of stories. He’d think less of the lady herself, but Fortune Tower was just a rebranded monolith from the old days of Savage Steel. Mrs. Adamson repurposed a number of licenses but hardly changed the tower itself.
Caleb preferred old style technology, none of the garbled mess of data pads and high security risk devices. He whipped out his smart phone and checked the location tag from her last known communication. He thumbed through a series of posts until he found her. He read the location and recognized the street name, right outside Magma Studios toward the south side of Paris. He readied himself for a burst of speed, about to leap across rooftops, when he paused and eased up a little. This was time to play it by the books. Caleb thumbed through his contacts and called Bandwidth, the man Star said to phone in case of a technical emergency.
“Caleb,” a young man’s voice rang through his phone. “It’s about time you called.”
“Excuse me?” Caleb asked.
The voice resonated with a mix of static, but he sounded twenty something and a bit dorky. “Don’t worry, sir. I have your bases covered. I already informed Mrs. Adamson of the situation, but I’m going to need you out in the field.”
“You mind explaining what the hell’s going on?”
Caleb huffed through his nose, attempting to keep his frustration down as static buzzed through the other end of his smart phone. Bandwidth paused in awkward silence before he resumed.
“Star’s been abducted. It … happens from time to time, despite our best efforts.”
“Apparently,” Caleb said. He shrugged. “What do you need me to do?”
“I can’t track Star from my location,” Bandwidth replied. “Someone or something is interfering with her broadcast signal. It could be mechanical or a resonance user, and the latter is what I’m afraid of. However, I can assist you in the search.”
“What makes you think it’s a resonance user?” Caleb said. “Seems like an awfully big leap.”
Caleb replied again with a somber tone. “Fortune Strongholds assigned our best unit of RTF operatives decked out in some choice Resotek. Only a powerful resonance user could take them down, at least a Factor Four.”
“A Factor Four?” Caleb shouted. “You want me to take down someone like that?”
“He might not be the only one, Caleb,” Bandwidth said. “Listen, you don’t need to beat any of them. You’re main objective is extraction of 4Love. Can you accomplish that, or do I need to find someone better?”
Caleb sighed, hunched over. “I’ll do it. Just point me in the right direction.”
Chapter 11
Locke Down
Magma Studios, Paris
“Manipulators hold power over a specific form of object or certain type of material. From chemical elements to compounds to fine china, Manipulators ordinarily excel at physical combat. Unlike their counterparts, Abstractors and Elementalists, Manipulators hold the least varied power sets and are least useful in increasingly complex situations.” – Old UN.C. Order Knowledge Division
Rushing winds blew through an empty Paris street in the aftermath of Star’s abduction. Caleb knelt down and ran his fingers across the pavement, black tar with a rough grit. Lanterns hung overhead, a quiet memory of the concert a few days back. The city hadn’t taken them all down. How could they? A stray wrapper fluttered by him and Caleb snatched it up to examine the piece. He squinted, holding up to the scant moonlight. Just a candy bar. Nothing special.
“I’m here,” Caleb said.
Bandwidth chimed in through his earpiece. “Good hustle. Camera feeds blanked out moments before the abduction, but with a good visual, I can probably get more data. Can you send me some close up shots of the road? I’d like to see if the vehicle left tire tracks.”
“Do they even need a car?” Caleb asked. “I mean, I can move pretty quickly, so it stands to reason others might as well.”
“It’s possible,” Bandwidth said. “However, speed is a rare commodity for resonance users and most of the time, a speedster’s powers won’t allow for extra baggage. The possibility of a ride is strong enough to warrant a closer look.”
Caleb shrugged and pulled out his phone, pointing it at the road for some close up pictures. He snapped a few and sent them to Bandwidth before shoving the phone back into his pocket. Caleb crossed his arms and tapped his feet as he waited for a reply, groaning through a short period of awkward silence.
“I received them,” Bandwidth said. “Thanks, Caleb. I should have a lead within the next few minutes.”
“What should I do until then?” Caleb asked.
“Stay put for now,” Bandwidth replied. “There’s no telling …” his words trailed off. “Oh?”
“Oh, what?”
Bandwidth paused. “City feeds are showing some peculiar activity. I’ll leave you to deal with that.”
“Hang on!” Caleb stammered. “Deal with what? You can’t just leave me …”
He would have finished his sentence, but he tripped over his words when a fist socked him clean in the jaw. Caleb spun around, dazed by the blow, but caught only a brief glimpse of a light flash before another fist slammed into the back of his skull. Caleb lurched over and engaged his Graphite Rush, speeding down the street until such a distance that he determined safe. He broke out of it and paused, whirling around. Empty Paris. He blinked and something like a strobe light flashed a few feet in front of him, fading out to reveal a young man, maybe in his late teens with short black hair and a poor man’s checkered suit.
“You’re pretty quick for an old goat,” the boy said. He smiled. “This’ll be interesting.”
Caleb acted on instinct and rushed forward to deck the kid in the face, nothing lethal, but enough to send him running home. However, following his initial intent, he found his legs lacking in motivation. Caleb pushed with every ounce of his physical strength, but his limbs refused to move, bound to their current orientations. He gritted his teeth, and the boy laughed.
“And Pop and Locke steal the show.”
Chapter 12
Triple Threat
Magma Studios, Paris
“Artifice Industries and Fortune Strongholds stand tall as the leading providers of Resotek in the New Age of Resonance. Either industry fashions their Resotek cores from a variety of materials. Artifice Industries retains the model designation while Fortune Strongholds retains the series designation, each a line in numerical order of their creation. A Series 5 compact communicator explicitly means that it was the fifth Resotek core type Fortune Strongholds patented.” – Old UN.C. Order Knowledge Division
“Damn,” Caleb said wit
h a forced smile. “You got me, kid.”
“Right you are!” he replied eagerly. “Listen, we got a lot of business with the lady, so why don’t I wrap things up? I got a special present, made just for you.”
The young man grinned and fanned out his fingers to reveal what looked like a micro bomb. The kid was probably more practiced with blowing up flesh and blood, but he’d be in for a real surprise when … Caleb grunted as the boy shoved the explosive into his gut, passing through flesh as if it hadn’t been there in the first place. Without a moment to spare, he popped back a few dozen paces and waved gently at Caleb.
“You got a rumbly in your tummy now,” he said. “Couple more seconds.”
Dammit. The kid must have some kind of dimensional resonance. If Caleb had to guess, that one was Pop, which left Locke somewhere else entirely. A somewhat bigger focus, however, was the timed explosive lodged inside his stomach through some mad physics he barely understood. Caleb concentrated and forced his resonance into full swing, elevating the carbon levels of his internal organs to a state harder than diamond. He packed the atoms together so closely that his body froze altogether, leaving only a slight brain function, barely enough to kick him out of it in the aftermath. Fire bellowed in his gut with a resounding boom as smoke flew from his mouth. He’d feel that tomorrow. He coughed as he gradually reduced the carbon levels to something normal.
“Funny,” Pop said. “That usually works the first time.”
Caleb cleared his scorched throat. “You’re a little sociopath, you know that!”
“Aw, don’t be a poor sport. I hear three’s your lucky number.”
Pop casually strode over to Caleb, ready to insert a triple threat of explosives. Caleb winced from the pain and struggled to break free, but his limbs failed him. What good was his strength if he couldn’t throw a punch? Pop had nearly reached him when a thick darkness enveloped the both of them. This wasn’t the kid’s doing, but he didn’t much appreciate the total lack of vision. Caleb, however, found that inside the pitch-black cloud, he could now move his limbs. Interesting. Whatever hold had been placed on him had broken. He swiped forward where the boy had been, but he struck a hot flash as his target popped out of reach.
“Someone’s up to no good,” Caleb said, shrugging off the discomfort.
“Darkness creeps over the land,” sounded a loud, booming voice. “The midnight prowler with dark cape stands.”
Caleb pushed through the smoke or whatever it was that kept his eyes from seeing anything except utter black surroundings. He couldn’t risk using his Graphite Rush, else he might collide with a building and wreck his body further. It was so damned inconvenient, but he dashed at peak human speeds through a near endless fog.
“Villains cringe at my sight,” the voice shouted. “Fear my name, Sir Baron Lord Knight!”
Figures it’d be him again. Slashes and bloodied screams echoed in the dim blackness as the young man cried out. A powerful flash pierced the thick fog from twenty meters away with a resounding crackle. Afterward, Caleb heard nothing. The dark faded to reveal a tall man with a black cape and a worn top hat standing in the middle of the street. A bit of blood stained his right hand and the pavement by his feet. The man turned to him with a frustrated expression while he rubbed his clean hand across his beard.
“He was a wiry thing,” Knight said. “He got away. Care to join in the hunt?”
Chapter 13
Short Cut
Subterranean Pinnacle HQ, Paris
“Abstractors hold power over an abstract concept or phrase, such as good fortune, paths or right hand turns. The nature of their resonance allows them to utilize their powers in a variety of situations and in multiple methods. Abstractors tend to least excel at combat, but they are problem solvers, trackers and typical support specialists.” – Old UN.C. Order Knowledge Division
Star rested her cheek against a cold cobblestone wall while she sat plainly across a positively barren bedspread smack in the middle of a dank dungeon. Pinnacle spared no expense when it came to Resotek and hired guns, but they phoned it in for the infrastructure. She sighed and stared out past her cell door where two sentries stood, both given strict orders not to communicate with her for any reason. It had been about an hour since her ‘conversation’ with Madame Repulsa.
The wicked woman had prodded around for the better part of twenty minutes before she found herself satisfied. She never mentioned whom she was working for, but the MO screamed Pinnacle. This was getting old, and resonance wasn’t going anywhere. Pinnacle might as well pack up and leave for another world for what good it would do.
“Excuse me?” Star said, her attention focused on the men at her cell’s entrance. “Might I have some refreshments?”
The sentries didn’t exhibit a response, so Star began humming a tune from her music. She figured there was little chance both hadn’t heard of her lyrics to some degree. She whistled the melodies for a minute before she realized the guards had been outfitted with auditory dampeners, which was a fancy name for discreet earmuffs. Okay, then. She could play hardball. Pinnacle’s top brass might know about her way with words, but she doubted most realized her much deeper secret.
Star stood up and strode toward the doorway, but before she dug back into her memories, she spotted a camera facing her cell from the outside. Darn it. She bit her lip and scanned her surroundings. That camera would capture a perfect view if she let loose, and she’d never hear the end of it from her mother. However, she could try something slightly dangerous. Star hardly knew if it would work, but …
“Do you remember what you saw before I arrived?” she whispered through the barred cell door. “Can you recall, just for a second or two?”
Star listened quietly and heard a slight crackle as the camera blinked.
“Good boy,” she said.
Star focused her resonance to a point outside her cell door and down the hall around a corner from her mind’s eye and shut her real ones. She’d been there not too long ago, despite her short walk through the base, so it shouldn’t be difficult to manifest herself into the person she was. It was all about remembering, or that at least was what Rebecca had told her.
Star’s resonance was special. She’d barely tapped into the full potential of her powers, partly because she’d never arrived at a proper opportunity to use them. More so, she felt stuck, as if she’d stayed the same person she was when she came into her powers. Star hadn’t aged visibly in the last few years, a condition Rebecca appreciated much more than she did.
Star opened her eyes to find herself standing around the corner of the hall that led to her cage. Carefully, she crept over and peeked around the bend. Two sentries stared blankly against a tacky wall with Resotek rifles in hand and form fitted body armor. Star sunk back, deciding that discretion was the better choice in her given situation but perhaps one day, if she’d even grown strong enough to figure out the combat application of her powers. She turned to face the dim, barren hall behind her and sped off into shadow.
Chapter 14
Repulsa Arrives
Subterranean Pinnacle HQ, Paris
“Resotek cores require a Trigger, a specific action, force or physical material that must interact with the core in certain way. Resotek researchers can spend months or years discovering the proper trigger following the initial manufacture of said cores. Fortunately, the Triggers tend to align with the powers themselves in terms of materials, though the method of application usually turns out oddly specific.” – Old UN.C. Order Knowledge Division
Star dashed through the halls of Pinnacle’s underground base of operations. She hugged tightly to the walls and treaded cautiously between patrols of wary guards. Rebecca taught her some self-defense over the years, but she hardly practiced and she definitely never applied her training against an actual human opponent. She needed to stray away from combat and locate an exit of some kind. Star ducked
behind a corner after witnessing a patrolman walking past a three-way intersection.
She peered around again. The man had passed her by, luckily. Pinnacle’s base seemed simple enough by the floor plan. Perfect memory held its advantages, and she was beginning to generate a picture in her mind as she continued searching. Star hadn’t spotted a route above ground yet, but she’d gathered enough intel to know the base was minimally staffed and constructed within a matter of weeks. Whatever this was, it happened to be a temporary operation, a pseudo-military facility housed in the Paris Underground.
How they managed to build such a structure unbeknownst to her mother was beyond her, but usually these occurrences point to a resonance user. To block out Bandwidth’s eyes on incoming traffic and trade for a day, let alone weeks, would be quite an achievement in itself. Star held her breath and flattened herself against a cold steel wall as footsteps paced quietly toward her. She glanced back to her left, unwilling to peek around. The hall she’d bolted down from had no intersections near her and dashing away would only alert her visitor. She’d risk it.
Star pressed her body as close up against the wall as she could and slid inches down with soft footsteps. The patrolman’s footsteps increased in volume and she recognized a crisp pattern of heels. She gulped as the woman strode past, a Factor Four resonance user who went by the name Repulsa. A tall, slim woman in her late fifties stepped into her field of view, wearing a scarlet dress and short black heels. The woman’s hair hung low, curled and burgundy in color. Her aging figure distracted foes from her awesome power and for Pinnacle to retain her services for as long as it had astounded Star.
Repulsa stopped in the middle of the intersection, soft incandescent light barreling over her to paint a murky shadow by Star’s feet. Inches away from the woman who would kill her without contemplation. Star sunk back even further, her body practically melting into the wall. Repulsa stretched her fingers but didn’t turn around. Could be coincidence, maybe. Come on, move it!
