“Shall I cut your cord too?”
“Go back, Nadine!” Lisa cried.
Lightning fast, the man stood behind Nadine quicker than she could turn around, his arm coming back and…
Moving through her umbilical cord of light, but not severing it.
“Go!” Lisa rushed Nadine and slammed her palms into Nadine’s spectral shoulders, sending the Eastern spy tumbling backward, where she kept tumbling, her speed increasing as she returned to her body.
Nadine woke up in her safe house, a loud gasp filling the room as if she were coming out of a feverish dream. The soft light in the room was at odds with the blistering light she’d just witnessed.
She felt a cold hand in her own.
“Lisa,” she said, pulling the young woman’s arm. “Wake up. Please, wake up.” She tapped her cheek, moved Lisa’s arms, and opened her eyelids only to find her eyes rolled into the back of her head, all to no avail. “Please…”
Nadine placed two fingers on Lisa’s neck, detecting a soft pulse.
From there, she fired off a mental message to Oscar, telling him she was heading his way and to immediately send transport for two people.
Chapter Five: Pocket Protector
“Are you going to animate it?” Ava asked.
Roman still hadn’t lifted the tiny, toy-sized doll out of her wooden box.
Part of him felt like this was some kind of joke, but he had already received another message from Emelia reminding him that the real version would be ready soon—this was only a replica to keep him company for the time being.
Roman examined the small doll, turning her over in his hand. She was about eight inches tall, with blond hair, and she wore a black bodysuit with a v-opening in the front, revealing some cleavage.
“Are those cat ears?” Ava asked. “Is she supposed to be some type of cat mutant? I heard they have those in the West.”
Roman examined the ears for a moment, seeing they were attached to a headband. “No, I think it’s just an accessory she’s wearing.”
He glanced down at his power dial to see it was at its normal levels, only Coma and Celia currently taking any of his power.
“Do it,” Ava said, egging him on. “You know you want to.”
“Why do I feel like I’m going to regret this?”
She laughed. “You’re way too serious. Just animate her, and if she has a bad personality, well, you know what to do.”
Roman looked to Coma and Celia, both of whom stood off to his left, waiting to see what he’d do.
“It could be interesting,” Coma finally said.
“Miss Ava is right,” said Celia, “you can de-animate her if it’s too strange.”
“You’re right.” With a wave of his free hand, the tiny doll came to life. She immediately sat down in Roman’s palm, her legs splayed outward.
“Is it late?” she asked in a high-pitched voice.
“Um…”
Ava nearly knocked Roman over as she came to the doll, her eyes just about as wide as he had ever seen them.
“I want to see!” said Coma, coming to Roman’s other side.
“Who are you?” the tiny doll asked, her tone less surprised and more seductive. “More importantly, how long have you been looking at me like that?”
Did she just bat her eyes at me? Roman thought as he held her out just a little bit higher so the others could view her better.
He recalled that the dolls he animated took on some part of his personality, and while Roman couldn’t quite place which part of him the newest doll had borrowed from, he had a sneaking suspicion.
“We should name her Casper,” said Celia. She stood next to Coma now, her purple eyes staring fondly at their newest edition. The toy-sized doll leaned back and propped her body up with her hands, which accentuated her chest.
“Casper. I like that name,” Coma agreed.
“This is so weird,” Ava said, a curious smile moving across her face.
“Where did you get the name Casper?” Roman asked Celia, still not able to take his attention off the tiny moving figure. She yawned, her cat-eared headband shifting a bit to the right.
“Casper. It was on the name of the brand of flour you bought. I used it to make noodles earlier.”
“Casper Flour,” Ava laughed. “Well, it’s definitely a name.”
“Sure, name me whatever you would like. But after you’ve done so, show me where I can sleep. I feel so tired right now—well, I feel other things too,” the small woman said, her eyebrows narrowing on Roman.
Ava moved in closer, cupping Roman’s ear as she whispered, “I think Casper’s flirting with you…”
“Clearly,” Roman said, and he got the notion to de-animate the tiny doll and return her to her lifeless form.
Casper stood with her knees touching, her feet facing inward. “Are you just going to stare at me? Or are you going to take me to my bed?”
“Take you to your bed, huh?” Roman said, heading over to the couch.
The pint-sized doll hopped off his hand and landed on a cushion, her hair bouncing as she got her balance. Once she realized the surface she was standing on was soft, she stretched her arms over her head, yawned, and fell backwards.
Celia sat on the armrest of the couch. “I think she’s cute.”
“Is she always going to be this sleepy?” Coma asked, a look of uncertainty flashing across her masked face.
“No idea,” Roman told her.
“Well, this is definitely about as weird as I would like my day to be,” Ava said, stretching her hands over her head. “Anyway, Roman, I want you come by the gym tomorrow afternoon. I have a new opponent for you to face.”
“Got it,” Roman told his teacher, still fixated on the small doll who was now resting with one hand over her stomach, her legs wide.
“And don’t have too much fun tonight…”
A blazing light flashed across the living room as Ava’s teleporter appeared. She was gone in a matter of seconds, leaving Roman with his three dolls.
Roman turned to his bedroom, figuring he could deal with Casper in the morning. He had the option of taking her power away, but it wasn’t costing much to keep her alive, and he wanted to get a sense of who she was, how she would fit into his equation.
So he left her animated, asleep yet still alive.
Once he reached his bedroom, he took off his suit jacket and placed it on a green velvet hanger as the sound of his neighbors moving something across the wooden floor met his ears.
Celia appeared behind him. “Would you like some help?”
He wasn’t drunk enough to need help getting undressed, but Coma and Celia seemed to like helping him put clothes on. And while it was a bit of an odd experience, he kind of liked it to.
Roman nodded and Celia moved closer to him, where she began unbuttoning his shirt. The second doll he’d animated looked incredible in Coma’s exemplar clothing, Coma’s corset lifting Celia’s well-formed breasts.
He found himself staring at them for a moment as she reached the last button on his shirt, his focus narrowing on her and the suppleness of her skin.
Roman glanced away just as Celia’s eyes moved up to his face. She took the shirt over his muscled shoulder, careful not to touch the bruises he still had from his run-in with Ian Turlock, the red man who had nearly killed him.
Roman grimaced. Ian was dead now, buried beneath the cement in an abandoned warehouse, but Roman was sure someone would find him one day. Hopefully, that day wouldn’t be anytime soon.
Celia’s delicate hands came to his belt buckle.
“Am I interrupting something?” Coma asked from the doorway, startling Roman.
“No,” Roman said.
Coma unzipped her dress and stepped out of it, her breasts spilling out, which he paid little attention to as she undid her mask. She wore a black thong, socks, and a pair of house slippers she had taken a liking to, red with thick soles.
His attention returned to Celia as she unbut
toned the front of his pants and slowly pulled the zipper down. Then she brought his pants down to his knees, allowing Roman to step out and leaving him in his boxer briefs.
He ignored the fact that he had a half erection as he moved to the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth. He disregarded his urges, still feeling the alcohol and chalking it up to the wine.
By the time Roman came back into his room, both Celia and Coma were in the bed in underwear and socks, topless, neither of them under the blankets. They simply lay on top of the comforter, their eyes open, gazes fixed on the ceiling.
It was a little chilly out, and it struck Roman as odd to see them lying there like toppled-over mannequins. But then he remembered what they were, and for some reason, this thought brought a smirk to his face.
What have you created?
He climbed in the bed from the middle, relaxing his arms wide, and both of them rested their heads onto his biceps.
“Good night, Roman,” Celia said as she placed her hand on his chest.
Roman opened his eyes.
He was in the same place he’d been the previous night, a meadow bathed in twilight, with purple stars in the sky and shadows on the periphery that reminded him of the exemplar who had attacked him a week ago.
Hazrat.
He recalled the man growing angry in Roman’s cubicle, bladed shadows lifting from everything around them, a darkness he’d never seen before gathering, preparing to strike…
For a split second Roman knew he was dreaming, but then his focus returned to something in the distance moving through the grass on top of a small hill. He quickly forgot where he was.
Something sinister was coming his way, aimed right at him.
He heard a humming in the distance, a soft whisper behind him, but he knew not to turn to that whisper.
He’d tried that before, countless times, spinning every time he heard her whisper his name.
Whatever this place was, it was a space in which Roman felt close to his deceased wife. The twilight landscape practically screamed Celia, all of her favorite things in one surreal environment: nature, a starry night, a soft breeze, a seemingly peaceful setting.
Aside from the evil force moving in his direction.
You have to act, he told himself. Now or never.
Roman sat, bringing his knees to his chest, awaiting what would eventually overcome him. Everything went dark, a thick shadow engulfing him and a brittle coldness moving into his bones, Celia’s soft whispers mere memories.
The ground gave way.
“Roman,” Celia said, her hand lightly patting his chest. “Please…”
He gasped, his lungs filling with air. The morning light was coming through the drapes, and even though the room was cold, Roman’s brow was covered in sweat, his white hair matted to his skull.
“Are you okay?” the doll asked, her fingers falling back onto his chest. “Your heart was beating pretty fast…”
“I’m okay,” he said, his heart still trembling. “Just a falling dream.”
“Interesting,” said Coma, who was wide-awake, sitting up and leaning against the backboard.
Celia massaged her hand against his chest, her fingers surprisingly warm.
“Sorry,” Roman said, pushing her away. She shifted to the side, dropping her feet onto the ground so he could move past. Once he was standing, Roman offered Celia his hand and she took it.
The two walked to the living room together holding hands, both in their underwear, Celia also in a pair of socks. Roman eventually let go of her hand to boil some water for tea. But Celia wouldn’t let him, instead taking over immediately and instructing him to go sit in the living room.
“Thank you,” Roman called over to her.
He stopped before his newest doll, the one that was barely eight inches tall. Casper slept with her arms and legs spread wide, her chin and head veering off to the side.
“Wake up,” Roman said as he reached for the tiny doll.
Casper brought her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them, and rolled up to a standing position.
“I wasn’t really asleep,” she said as she adjusted the cat ears on her head. “I was just waiting for you to get up.” Casper lifted one hand and did a cartwheel off the cushion, landing on the seat of the couch with a small umph.
His eyes still a little blurry from having just woken up, Roman tried to focus on the tiny woman as she took a few steps back.
She performed a running leap, latching on to his leg and using the skin to crawl up, over his boxers, stopping next to his member and punching her fist against it, then climbing even higher using his abs and finally his chest until she stood on his shoulder.
“You could’ve just asked me to put you there,” he told her, his skin tingling from where she’d just been. “And next time, no dick punch.”
“Is that what that was?” she asked. “What can I say? I felt like a good climb. When you’re this size, you can pretty much do whatever you want. The world is your oyster. Wait, where did I learn that phrase? You know, I think I have some of your memories.”
“You think, huh?”
“I get the sense I just know something about you, and your past and all these different things that have happened,” she said. “You were quite the fighter, it seems. Lots of tragedy too. By the way, I’ve been up for like three hours looking around—so yeah, I snooped.”
Roman took a quick glance around his apartment and noticed a few things out of place, from a stack of letters on the table to the corner of the rug, small details he wouldn’t have noticed had she not mentioned she’d been looking around.
“Well, hope you found what you were looking for.”
“You shouldn’t have shut the door,” Casper said. “I could have just come to the bedroom with you three and slept there. But no, you shut the door, locked me out—and I do have manners, you know, so I didn’t want to knock or kick it, and I definitely am too thick to slide under the door. You don’t think I’m fat, do you? Also, did you rest well?”
“No to both those questions.”
A mental message came in from Nadine Under, and as it played out in his head, Roman’s expression went from barely awake to sudden surprise:
Roman, there’s been a development. Last night, I was trying to get information along with another asset who has the power of Soul Speed—a Type IV, Class C & F, just in case you were wondering. We were attacked by a man made of light, and he severed her ability to return to her body. I was able to make it out, but my asset wasn’t. If you’re interested in helping me look into this, I would really appreciate it. In fact, I would owe you a favor, which may prove to your benefit in the future. Care to meet for breakfast? Lunch? Are you at work this week? I can’t go there again, but I can meet you somewhere…
“Thank you,” Roman told Celia as she handed him a cup of tea on a small saucer, ignoring the fact that she was still topless.
“So everyone here is just naked all the time?” Casper began to tug at her black one-piece. “Because that can be arranged.”
“No,” Roman said. “Celia, please get dressed. We need to leave soon.”
“I’ll inform Coma,” she started to say.
“No need. Just you, and thanks for the tea,” he called after her.
Casper waved at Roman’s face. “You sure you don’t want to see a woman my size naked?”
“No.” Roman took his first sip of tea, wondering how he should respond to Nadine. Of course he would meet her, and breakfast would be fine, but what if she asked him to do something illegal? Something that would further taint his record?
The possibility of becoming some type of hero, someone that helped people, was still a dream Roman hoped to realize. The further he dove into illegal activity, the harder that would be.
Then again, if Nadine would go to this much effort for an asset, she would likely do the same for him or anyone else who worked with her, which was a type of loyalty Roman felt was important in this line of w
ork.
Plus, he would definitely need a favor in the future. Roman would have to have his mind wiped, and only a handful of telepaths could actually do that without causing permanent damage.
“If we’re going out, I’m coming along,” Casper informed him. “I’ve got to get out of this living room and get some fresh air.”
“I would prefer you to stay here with Coma.”
“You mean the one that wears the mask? The crazy girl with red eyes and black hair?” Casper sighed miserably. “She’s a little bit scary. But then again, I don’t know her too well, and if she’s with you, well, I guess I trust you. Actually, no, I’m going with you. There, I’ve made up my mind. I’ll just hang out in your pocket or something.”
Chapter Six: Surprise Visit
The brightness was something Hazrat had hated since he was a child.
But as it turned out, the immigration officials in Centralia had known what they were doing when they placed him in the facility known as Prison South, his cell painted in light so completely he was unable to open his eyes.
Telepathy preventers kept him from getting a message out to his wife, an utter fucking shame because she’d likely be wondering why he hadn’t come home.
All of this, all of this, because the immigration official known as Roman Martin hadn’t processed his paperwork the way Hazrat had wanted him to.
In the Southern Alliance, where Hazrat hailed from, there wasn’t a government issue that money couldn’t solve.
Bribery ran the frigid South, which was one of the reasons it was such a rich country. Those at the top could have anything they wanted, and those wishing to immigrate could simply buy citizenship.
But all that was a distant memory to Hazrat at the moment.
Suspended in the middle of the room, his wrists and legs bound, Hazrat had never felt so vulnerable in his life. He hadn’t been able to open his eyes for days now, the light shining onto him so incredibly bright that it had affected his skin, dehydrated him.
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