Chasing Power (Hidden Talents) (21 page)

“I don’t know what’s going on, but these mysterious accidents keep happening around me.  All I’m trying to do is find my own answers.”  That was as close to the truth as Sam was willing to go, though she did elaborate on some of the “accidents.”  
 

At last, when Sam really started wondering if she really had sold her soul, and hell was an eternity of answering questions, Snow drew the interview to a close with one last question.

“Before we go, Samantha, can you tell me, do you have any plans on ever reuniting with your father?”

Sam looked Barbara/The Camera squarely in the eyes and said, with absolute, one hundred percent sincerity, “Absolutely not.”

#

Sam didn’t get much sleep that night.  Snow had promised them total anonymity in the suite she’d lent them.  There was no reason not to believe her, because, after all, Snow didn’t want to devalue her own hard-won interview. 

Nonetheless, Sam couldn’t make her mind rest.  When she wasn’t imagining Lane stuck in a cold, frightening jail cell, she imagined the door banging open and police flooding in to arrest the three of them for conspiracy, or Hal sneaking in and setting the hotel on fire, killing everyone inside.  They’d never found his body, and Sam had a feeling that unless you had seen their cold dead corpse, no Talent was ever out for the count.  When dawn finally crept over the sill, she was surprised to find that she’d made it through the night without incident.

Apparently, Sam thought, there is honor even among reporters.

But Snow was wrong about one thing.  Her fancy lawyers didn’t have Lane out by the morning.  It was actually a little after lunch when he was released.  Snow’s chauffeur picked Lane up at the station and drove him to a pre-determined, carefully nondescript parking lot where Sam, Al, and Harry waited.

Lane and Sam’s reunion was filmed of course.  Unfortunately for Snow, the reuniting of the team consisted of manly handshakes and half-hugs between Al, Harry, and Lane, and a curt nod from Samantha.  He approached her, arms out, and she’d given him an equally curt headshake.  It took more than a close call with death and imprisonment to change Samantha’s mind.  She’d paid her debt, that didn’t mean she was ready to forgive his secret keeping.

Lane, for his part, handled the entire situation with as much goodwill and humor as he could manage.  He pretended not to notice Sam’s cold reception.

Once they’d gotten all of the shots needed, Snow came forward to say goodbye.  It was characteristically to the point:

“If you get involved in any more crazy stuff—and I’m sure you will—remember I have the first pass rights.  Also,” she lowered her voice, “I know you’re leaving something out.  If you feel like you want to share the whole story, let me know.  Off the record, even.  You don’t get this job without a healthy dose of curiosity.”

Sam smiled.  Despite herself, she was coming to like Snow.  The woman was willing to bend a few rules, blackmail, butter-up, and do whatever it took to get the story—but at least she was honest about it.

Their small group climbed into the car, uncharacteristically silent.  No one even bickered about who would drive or take shotgun.  Harry climbed in behind the wheel, Lane took the front passenger seat, and the other two seemed content to share the back.

The silence lasted until they were well down the freeway.  Finally, it seemed Lane couldn’t contain himself any longer.  He turned to Al, voice hard, “So, want to tell me why you two didn’t follow the plan?”

“We couldn’t leave—”

“Leave me?  Bullshit.  You don’t need me.  My power’s about as useful as—as—a toaster.”

Sam stifled her snort of laughter.  She’d wanted to see how Lane was angry.  It looked like she was getting her wish.  Obviously, he didn’t have a lot of practice at the furious speeches.  Still, the look in his eyes was pretty good, she decided.  Poor Al, he didn’t know how to handle this side of his friend.  He squirmed under Lane’s heated look, “You’re our friend—”

“Exactly.  I’d think that might command a little loyalty, a little trust.  You’d be in Washington by now if you’d stuck to the plan!”

“But the Corp—”

“Do you think I was at risk, surrounded by police, when the Corp doesn’t even care about me?  I’m not the one they’re trying to kill!”

Al stiffened, “Look, bud, it’s a little much to ask us to leave you behind.  Not even Sam was willing to do it.”

That gave Lane pause.  He turned to her, slowly.

“Sam, Sam, Sam.  Why am I not surprised?  Your plan, was it, Samantha?”

Oh no, he wasn’t going to pull that BS on her.  Sam crossed her arms and met his eyes in challenge. 
That’s right
, she thought,
I bossed your boys around.  I pulled your buns out of the fire.  What are you going to do about it?

 Apparently, give her a mean look and a stern lecture: “I was doing fine.  It wasn’t necessary for you to bring your superior survival skills into the equation.” 

Oh, now that hurt. 

“Were you being sarcastic with that last bit?”  Sam said, pulling her shoulders back and straightening her spine, “I hope not.  Or else I just might leave you with Hal next time.”

“Please do.  Facing him alone is probably better than burning alive in a hardware store.”

Lane and Samantha were nose to nose now, Lane craning around his seat, Sam leaning forward, “That hardware store was a damn good idea and you know it—”

“Up until the point where we almost died from toxic fumes, you mean?  Or the part where we got caught by the police?  Y’know, if I hadn’t pulled you out—”

“—I could have finished the job and we’d have one less asshole to worry about right now.”

Lane sat back suddenly.  “You don’t mean that.”

I do, Sam almost snapped out.  But something held her back.  The look on Lane’s face.  She settled for rolling her eyes and tossing herself back into her chair.  “Bottom line,” she said, “The worm has turned and it’s not always easy to be as grateful as you should, is it?”  She wasn’t above rubbing her success in just a teeny bit, either, “It was only a matter of time before the Corp caught up anyways.”

“Now we’re going to be on the national news!”

“We’re already
on
the national news!  I just used the situation to our own advantage!  It’s called ingenuity and it got us all out of trouble.  Twice.”

“Well
you
—” Lane stuttered around, grasping for an argument.  He couldn’t find one, “
Fine
.  It was a good plan.  It worked.  I just wish you’d left me behind.  I hate the thought of you endangering yourself for me.”

That certainly took the wind out of her sails.  Sam turned her head towards the window.  “I just wanted to even things out.”

“OK.  But next time, leave them uneven.  I can take care of myself.”

Sam smiled sweetly back at Lane and nodded, “Sure you can.”

#

For once, Lane didn’t have to drive and he didn’t insist Harry relinquish his seat.  He needed time to stew.  When he’d first been taken to the police station, he’d known it was only a matter of time before he was charged with something.  Lane was a creature of optimism by nature, but even he struggled to think of how in the world he could get out of a locked-down police station with twenty cops on duty.  His powers, after all, had a natural limit.  The display he’d managed at the hardware store and restaurant was beyond strange, and when they took Sam away, his unnatural power boost left with her.  Alone, all he could do was keep the people coming and going as confused as possible.  And the only thing they knew, that they would tell him, was that Sam was in the hospital.  So he’d sat there, feeling every tick of the second hand in his bones, worry slowly suffocating him.

When the lawyers stormed in—three of them—announcing that they were his representation, he’d assumed it was Tess and the N.T.U. who had sent them.  He was surprised when they told him they were with a TV network and part of Samantha’s “payment.” 

Payment? 

“Miss Gibson promised the network exclusive rights to her story in exchange for legal protection for the both of you,” Lawyer Number One said.

What?  Lane blinked.  They might as well have told him Martians landed on the moon.  Sam couldn’t tell him what her favorite cereal was, and here she was selling her life story to the national press?  To a world full of strangers?  Really?

No.  The answer came to him, she was selling them half-truths and tactful omissions, vague statements designed to make you think you were learning something.  Just like she’d done with him.  But why do it in the first place?

For him.  Because putting herself out in the public, making herself an even bigger target, was the only way to get him out of jail.  Adrift in a morass of personal responsibility and guilt, Lane consoled himself with the one certainty he could count on: “She is out of the state, right?”

“Safe nearby, and waiting for your return.”

No.  Here, still here, for hours and hours as the Corp gathered forces, sent reconnaissance, and got ready to strike.  Damnit!  If Sam got herself killed because she’d had the decency, idiocy, whatever to stick around and try and get him out, or because she’d accidentally revealed a key piece of information in her interview, he’d never forgive himself.

The next few hours passed in a blur.  The lawyers were good at what they did.  By the end of the morning, they were signing paperwork for his release and offering to buy him some lunch.

“I should really be the one doing that,” Lane said, thanking them.

“No need, you look like you’ve had a hard week,” Number Three said.  

And now he was here.  And Samantha was fine, and Al and Harry were fine.  But it bothered him.  Audrey’s words bothered him.  This wasn’t exactly what Lane qualified as a betrayal, but what if she was right?  What if it was better if he didn’t come along at all, if they left him behind?

No.  He discarded the thought.  He’d never quit anything in his entire life.  He’d never broken a promise.  He wasn’t about to start now.

“So how were things in the clink?”

Lane jumped a little, broken out of his reverie.  Al looked at Lane hopefully.  Al couldn’t stand silence, especially the kind of awkwardness that came after a big fight.  He was asking Lane to bridge the gap.

“I did get a chance to do a lot of thinking.  I think I figured something out.”  

Sam looked over at Lane, arching her left eyebrow.  Who knew what that look was about.

“I had an idea, about Sam’s power.  Especially after what happened yesterday.  It answers a lot of questions.”  Sam’s right eyebrow crept up to join her first.

“Tell us what it is, then!” Al said.

Closing his eyes, Lane quietly rehearsed what he would say.  He didn’t want to keep the group in suspense, but he also didn’t want to piss off Sam.  In this case, he thought, it might be impossible to avoid that.

“Sam you, you don’t have any—no, that’s not quite right.  But it’s the only way I can think to describe it—Sam, you’re not a TK.  You’re not a kinetic at all.”

Lane waited for Sam to deny in outrage, to laugh in disbelief—but she didn’t.  Al was pale, positively stricken.  Sam just shrugged, “I knew it had to be a mistake.”

“But her headaches!”  Al went on, “The bus.  She’s said she could sense power.  Those are all signs of talent.”

“I didn’t say she wasn’t a Talent.”

“But if she’s not kinetic,” Harry said, “What is she?  I haven’t seen her read minds; she can’t control elements—”

“No,” Lane said, “She can control an element.  In fact, she can control an element that, as far as I’m aware, no other Talent has been able to control before.  Energy.  Our energy.  The kind we use to power our abilities.”

Harry and Al exchanged skeptical glances.  Samantha leaned forward, “What are you saying?  That I’m like, an electrical generator for the rest of you?”

“Exactly.  I’d started suspecting it at Audrey’s—you and she had the same dreams, and she said her dreams were stronger than normal.  And earlier, at the diner, when you panicked, we lost all our energy and then got it back, tripled.  But I didn’t really put the pieces together until yesterday.  At Lucky’s, Sam, when you touched me I felt the power flow into me.  I’ve never had TK as strong as I did that time.  Never.  Sam, you’re like a giant amplifier.  But like an amplifier, your talent needs someone else as an input.  Or else...nothing.”
 

“But the bus!” Al said, “We checked.  There weren’t any other Talents on that bus.”

“No,” Lane corrected, “No Talents registered with N.T.U.  Some members of the Corp have never registered.”

#

Putting the missing piece into the puzzle was always a great moment in life.  Sam just wished she’d been the one to find it, and not Lane.  But it made so much sense.  Hadn’t she felt it, the outrush of pressure and instant headache relief every time she’d touched a Talent?   And in the bus—she’d been crammed in between two people, touching shoulders.  One of them, quite fortunately, turned out to be a Talent.  And then, unfortunately, turned out to also be a member of the Corp, who had apparently told the Corporation all about what had happened.

A gear in Samantha’s brain turned and ideas formed.  It would be easy to cry about getting the short end of the stick.  Everyone wanted to be the superhero, and nature just permanently relegated Samantha to the role of sidekick.  Her talent was worthless without another Talent around to use it.