Daughter of Zeus

by Red Harvey

  “We’ve been doing a sort of dance, haven’t we?” Moretz finally asked.

  “Yes, we have.”

  “It will have to continue.” She focused on his surface thoughts. She had practiced reading the minds of strangers, and randomly, she would hear a scattering of words strung together non-sensibly. She couldn’t yield any results from her father who had layers of protection around him. Moretz tapped a finger on his temple. “Stay out of there, girl. Kressick is making sure you remain uninvited, right?”

  When Kressick didn’t answer, Moretz repeated his question. It seemed Kressick was busy listening to something else, and the something else got Ada’s attention. Underneath the silence, she heard the hum of a foreign electronic device. Kressick.

  “Who’s on the other end, Kressick?” She manifested into a physical agent of chaos. The lights in the house blinked and crackled. Outside, the rest of the lights winked.

  “What are you?” Darcy yelled, backing out of the room. “Same as him.” Ada gestured at Moretz. “Same as you.” Darcy’s surface thoughts jumped out at Ada, scattered at first, but clearer as they continued: the hallway lights... The lights.... always flickered at home whenever her parents fought.

  One night, their arguing had reached a fever pitch, and Darcy had cried and cried, finally finding release by screaming into a pillow. During that scream, the wall panel shattered. At the time, she thought nothing of it. Deep down, she blamed faulty technology for the break. Really, she knew. She felt a connection with the interface momentarily, and she recognized the intense peace which followed after she destroyed it.

  Internally admitting these truths to herself, but unable to speak of them to anyone else, Darcy shook her head. “Just stay away from me, all of you.” She fled to the bathroom.

  The denial was familiar. Ada had experienced identical emotions upon discovering her powers. Later, she might be able to help Darcy accept herself, but with the way the meeting was going, Ada wasn’t sure she would survive. With Kressick and Moretz both against her, her chances of escaping were declining every minute.

  “Who’s on the line, Kressick?” she asked again. In answer, he shook his head. Moretz was still on the couch. He looked as if he waited for something. Probably waiting on a few dozen Sammies to come through the door. Well, she wouldn’t let it get that far. One burst of electricity to the chest incapacitated Moretz. Blue sizzling lines rolled over his body, and his face smoothed into a blank slate.

  “Damnit, Ada! You didn’t have to do that!” Kressick rushed to his son.

  “He has a couple of minutes to live. If I don’t restart his heart, he’ll die.”

  He checked Moretz’s pulse. “You’re not the only one who can re-start his heart.”

  “No, I won’t let you.” She pointed a concentrated beam of energy near Moretz’s body, burning a hole through floor. “Try saving the bastard, and I’ll fry his heart for good.”

  The man who should have been her father was an inanimate doll. Gone was his pretense, gone was the angry man who despised losing the upper hand. In a minute, he would be nothing. The thought of his death meant nothing. No remorse, sadness, or joy. There was a flicker of emotion as she thought of Darcy. Her little sister wouldn’t understand any of it, not at first.

  Kressick grabbed her, and she lost the intense concentration needed to sustain the energy beam. “You’re forcing me to do this.”

  Ada didn’t get to ask was “this” meant. Her mind became a white sea after he took hold. Everything just was. An unrecognizable voice in her head spoke, gave her instructions. The voice told her to sleep, and she did.

  Twenty Six

  Moretz opened his eyes, coughing and sputtering. “Felt like I was drowning. Jesus Christ!”

  Kressick laid Ada out on the nearest couch, making sure her breathing remained even. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed his son wobbling his way to an upright position. He strode over to Kressick more quickly than a man in his condition should have been able to. For long moments, he panted, focused glazed eyes on Ada, and then he moved.

  “Bitch,” he ground out, accompanied by a kick to her stomach. “Stupid whore!” He continued delivering blows to her body.

  Kressick pulled his son from his granddaughter. “What the hell is wrong with you?” He slapped Moretz, hard.

  Moretz disregarded the slap and kept his gaze on Ada. The sound of the dissipating door opening echoed off the walls. Shylar came in. He nodded at Moretz and stopped walking when he got to Ada’s side. He carefully wiped off her damp forehead with a white cloth and put a finger to her wrist then her throat. The caring attitude toward her was a stark contrast to her father’s ill- treatment, and Kressick was grateful he could entrust her to a devoted individual who expected nothing in return. Weeks earlier when Shylar quietly demanded access to the equivalent of a pay check, Kressick thought the request strange, if not admirable. He certainly hadn’t programmed Shylar’s interest in Ada, and he figured it to be a latent memory prior to the re-wiring.

  “Shylar,” Kressick said.

  Shylar all but clicked his heels together.

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Take her to the car.”

  With little effort, he picked up Ada and draped her over his back. His expression looked less romantic than it had before.

  “Where am I taking her, sir?”

  He’s not even out of breath. His back hurt just thinking about carrying Ada. At her height, she had to be heavy, but in the case of Shylar’s re-wiring, Kressick included muscle tune-ups.

  He whispered instructions to Shylar, which were promptly carried out.

  “Where’s that robot taking her?” Brontes pointed to the hallway leading to the front door.

  For a few minutes, he didn’t answer. He was seeing his son for the first time. The way Brontes had spoken and acted with Ada...his son wasn’t the man Kressick hoped him to be.

  He wasn’t completely naïve. He knew the potential scope of his son’s selfish nature, but Brontes had always played it down. Then he had become a public servant, sending Kressick away for three years to watch Ada in Colorado. Confident his son would enact positive changes in the world, he had gone willingly. Through Shylar’s recent reports, he learned of Brontes’s habits: making shady deals with lobbyists, taking bribes, sodomizing and abusing a slew of young girls, all while trying to ascend to Senator status.

  Kressick had been willing to overlook Shylar’s discoveries for the sake of his grandchildren. They needed a father, and one was better than none. Or was it? Thinking back on it, Moretz had turned Phennell into an egotistical womanizer, Darcy into a whiny git, and Ada into an unbalanced killer. Kressick hadn’t raised a human being. Somewhere along the years, he had begot a monster.

  “Them,” he corrected Moretz. “He’s taking Ada and Darcy.” Moretz complained, but Kressick went on. “They will be taken to a safe location.”

  “Safe. From what?”

  Kressick pushed him. His son tripped backward, falling on his ass. The look he gave spoke volumes. Moretz had asked his question, and the look on his face was one of utter innocence. The look had been very convincing, but not quite convincing enough for Kressick to throw away his theories about his son. His look had been another lie.

  “Safe from you.” Kressick looked down at him. “You called in the State authorities, told them about Ada’s abilities. You sent them after her.”

  The innocence held. Moretz must have been used to wearing the mask. “No, I didn’t. She’s been on the State’s radar for years, ever since her abortion.”

  Kressick’s anger stalled out. “What? When?”

  “She did it when she was eighteen, right before Roe vs. Wade was overturned. When she left Colorado, the State couldn’t ignore her anymore. I only helped them track her.” He averted his eyes.

  Ada’s past life choices were inconsequential to Kressick. However, Moretz’s past decisions were mucking up everything. Through a careful network of lies, pseudonyms, and even a reti
nal replacement, Kressick had evaded State attention. Two decades back, he was almost caught, but he re-wired the agent. Afterward, he put forth even greater effort to shield himself. His years of work, work he put forth to protect his family, had come unraveled.

  “Do you know what you’ve done? I’ve had encounters with Sammies. I know what they can do and I know what sort of power they hope to gain by using people like us. You’ve signed your daughter’s life over.”

  Moretz managed to look ashamed. “Everything I did, I did to protect my daughter!”

  “Are you mad? Ada’s in danger because of you!”

  “Not Ada,” he sneered. “Darcy. The Sammies already knew about my powers. They’ve been tracking me for years, probably trying to find you. They wanted to take me, study me. When I became a Congressman, the dissection option died. But Darcy...they threatened to take her instead. So I—” He took in a deep breath. “I offered them a trade.”

  “Brilliant. You traded one daughter for the other.”

  Moretz bit his lip, eyes spilling over with tears. “Ada— I never thought of her as my daughter. I always thought her mom cheated, so I believed she couldn’t be mine.”

  While re-wiring Ada, Kressick had seen things, things he couldn’t explain. Moretz, a much younger Moretz, putting his arms around an even younger Ada. He put his finger on her mouth, and told her to keep a secret, no one would understand their special secret. His arms came around her again, and the images had gone black. The memories had been hazy. And Kressick didn’t know what to make of them. He had doubts, but they were the sort of doubts a parent never wanted to admit of their child. Moretz was beyond saving. Underneath his son’s statements, Kressick heard a silent confession. Moretz was rationalizing his treatment of Ada as a coping mechanism.

  How could a sexual deviant ever live with themselves, Kressick had always wondered. Now he knew—they made excuses.

  She had been right; Moretz needed to be put down. A great pain veered across his chest, and he thought his heart might break. Before it did, he had to fix things.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t raise you to be a better person,” Kressick choked out. “It all went wrong somehow. The way you treat your family, women...other people. And you dared to touch your own--”

  He couldn’t finish the thought aloud. In Moretz’s shame- filled eyes, Kressick saw the admission of guilt for unimaginable crimes. He took a hold of his son and did to him what he promised himself he would never do to his own flesh and blood.

  A full re-wiring.

  Twenty Seven

  Zap.

  Darcy stared at her fingertips.

  C’mon, zap.

  She had seen blue sparks shoot from Ada’s hand at Kressick’s townhome. She had been scared, but she had also been impressed. Ada knew how to do things; she was special. If they shared the same blood, maybe they shared the same abilities—Darcy wanted some blue sparks of her own.

  Her hand remained a hand, sans sparks. “How did she do it?” Darcy mumbled. “What’d you say?” the man asked from the driver’s seat. In her mind, he wasn’t worth a response. He must be another thug hired by her father. She had met plenty of them, and none of them had had the courtesy of being cute. The new guy was okay looking, but he had basically kidnapped her. After things got quieted, he dragged her out of the bathroom. She tried to fight him off, but his grip only tightened. His other hand cupped over her mouth. Hands trapped and mouth covered, she was forced into the back seat of the thug’s car. Ada lay passed out in the passenger’s seat.

  “Where are we going, asshole?”

  He chuckled. “Nowhere.”

  “Then why are we in a car, asshole?”

  “My name is Shylar.”

  “How can we be going nowhere in a car, asshole?”

  In every sentence, she put a unique inflection on the word “asshole”.

  The nickname didn’t seem to upset him. “We are going nowhere specific,” he finally said. “Your grandpa told me to drive out of the city and keep driving until he called.”

  “Why?”

  “I am not required to know why.”

  The stranger’s responses were troubling. He didn’t speak like a thug. He sounded like a robot.

  “Asshole, it’s been two hours,” she said.

  “He’ll call.”

  There were dozens of other questions Darcy wanted to ask, like ‘Where is my father?’, ‘Why am I with you?’, and ‘When is Ada going to wake up?’. Somehow, she thought asshole would refuse to provide any real answers. Thus, Darcy sat back and put all of her focus into her hand.

  No matter her level of concentration, no sparks appeared. However, a small blue current passed over her skin. The color was faint, and she couldn’t tell.

  When it happened again, she was sure.

  ~*~

  Chancelin and Phennell were in the interactive game room when they heard another voice in the house. Their servant had gone home hours ago, and Moretz told them he was going to be gone for a few days, and Darcy was going with him. Chancelin hardly cared what he was really doing, as long as he brought their daughter back.

  “Game pause,” Phennell told the wall panel. “Game paused,” a voice confirmed. The virtual display around them showed a sunny tennis court, a green ball in mid-play. Chancelin hated physical exertion, even the virtually simulated kind. However, when she was anxious, as she was about Darcy being anywhere near Ada, she welcomed distractions. She had been playing tennis often the past few weeks. She wasn’t near Phennell’s expert level, but he tolerated her lax strokes and penchant for ignoring the rules. He too missed Darcy, his usual tennis mate.

  “Phennell!” This time, the voice was louder, clearer. Moretz. Chancelin and Phennell left the room to find Moretz stalking the hallways. He spotted them and hurried to their side.

  “Come on, we have to go.” Moretz grabbed Phennell, dragging him to the entrance of the house.

  Dragging Phennell couldn’t have been easy, given his weight and stature, but adrenaline seemed on Moretz’s side.

  “What the hell, Dad?” Phennell wrenched away. “Brontes, what’s happened? Where’s Darcy?” Chancelin’s anxiety flared. She searched behind her husband, sure her beloved daughter waited nearby.

  He appeared to have been abused by Sammies. She knew the look, because it had occurred twice in the past. Recently, the threats stopped. She hadn’t wanted to know what sort of deal her husband struck to make that possible. She knew the depth and lack of Moretz from the beginning.

  “Phennell and I, we need to go and get Darcy. Darcy and Ada,” he corrected himself. “We need to get Darcy and Ada.” Moretz looked unsure as he said this.

  “But I thought—” Phennell began. “I know what I said before. That’s over. What matters now is getting your sisters.”

  “I still don’t understand.” Phennell rubbed the arm Moretz had clutched.

  Chancelin appraised Moretz, as she would one of her expensive antiques. What she saw in him made her take a step backward. “What’s wrong with you?”

  He took hold of her shoulders, shaking her slightly. “For the remainder of my days, I’m going to be an honorable man. If you have a problem with that, then leave.” He deferred to Phennell. “Same to you, Phennell.”

  Both of them stood speechless. Moretz was never forthcoming. When he chose to be clear with them, he laced his words with threats. His newest speech sounded more like an ultimatum, fueled by morality. She was unable to absorb it. One more look at him, and she knew the man she married was gone. Could she trust what this version of him had to say?

  He took her hand, an act usually reserved for photo ops. The gesture pierced her, and she gave his hand a squeeze.

  “Let’s go, Dad.” The two men rushed to the sub-garage, leaving Chancelin standing in the foyer, Moretz’s tight grip still burning her arms. His claim to an honorable life meant nothing to her. If he didn’t bring her daughter back, she’d kill him.

  ~*~

  “Asshole,
Grandpa still hasn’t called.” Darcy’s continued brand of prodding failed to distract the robot man. His attention remained on the road, broken occasionally when he glanced in the rearview mirror at Ada, then back at the road again.

  “That’s very astute of you,” he said, the lights from the other cars highlighting his face in fragments.

  She pointed at the front dash. “The power gauge is on low.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  Distracting the asshole is going to be a chore.

  The distraction had to happen. She thought again of Ada and how the release of electricity had incapacitated their father. A conventional distraction seemed necessary with a gene pool like Darcy’s.

  Barely breathing, she slowly reached her hand out in front of her. Her fingertips got closer and closer to his neck. Deep concentration brought back the blue current she had seen on her skin earlier, but maintaining the current was hard. She poured sweat, and it had only been a few seconds.

  “What are you doing?”

  He caught her arm. As soon as he touched it, she felt the current unite them for an instant. Then he threw her arm away and slumped in his seat.

  “Asshole?” She peeked her head around the driver’s seat. Her captor snored, as unconscious as her sister. Good. “Hello car.”

  Her greeting was a command prompt common with most interfaces. The car recognized her authority by responding, “Hello. How may I help you?”

  “Re-route to Kressick’s townhome.”

  “Re-routing,” the car confirmed. “Manual or automatic?”

  Darcy assessed the useless adults, one in the front and one in the back. “Automatic please.”

  “Of course.”

  Two hours later, the car was back in Kressick’s underground parking lot. Darcy shook Shylar. Still sleeping. Ada? Still sleeping too. Darcy hoped they would stay asleep for a little bit longer.

  Upstairs, Kressick’s home was empty. She righted the overturned lamp and chair. Things shouldn’t be left like that. Chair in hand, she tried not to think of what she was going to do next. Home was the obvious choice, but not the choice she wanted. She was a freak, and he seemed to know of and accept freaks. Where was he?