Lafferty, Mur (35 page)

"Why me?” Peter asks.

She stares at him, her gray eyes hard. "If you hadn't noticed, the Academy is a little short on staff right now. As you wanted him awakened, you can take care of him until I get back."

Peter nods and enters the room. A series of beeps sound behind him, and he sighs, realizing he has been locked in with the boy.

"Stupid Third Waver," the boy whispers. "Why did I ever agree to work with them?"

What must it be like to have no identity? The boy, Parasite, is convinced he is Pallas. He even holds the stance that he should return to stasis. But he isn't speaking of his own mind. He is speaking hers.

With Pallas gone, Peter sits at Parasite's bedside and watches him. He still screws his eyes shut, living, presumably, Pallas's fuming walk back to her office. He clears his throat. "Hey, Parasite."

The boy doesn't respond.

Peter reaches out and touches his shoulder, making sure not to touch bare skin. Parasite's eyes open slowly. "Parasite. Can you see me?"

"I'm Pallas," he whispers.

"No. You are Parasite. You can see through her eyes. And the Crane, right? And some others. But right now you can open your own eyes. Can you see me?"

He squints, then opens his eyes wider. "Peter. Third Wave."

Peter forces a smile, realizing this boy knows everything Pallas knows about him. "Yes. And you're Parasite, a boy born in the Academy and raised to be a hero. You're not a white woman." He takes Parasite's arm and shows the boy the dark skin of his hand. "Only they shut you away-"

"Dangerous. She said the boy was dangerous. Then she said there were too many of the dangerous ones. Then she shut the dangerous ones away. Then she…changed." Parasite shudders.

"Wait. Are you talking about Dr. Timson?" Peter says, suddenly very still.

"She thinks of herself as Shift now."

"You can see through her eyes." It was not a question. "Timson. Shift."

"I don't like to. I like to be Pallas."

Peter smiles at the first use of "I". "Can I suggest you relearn how to be Parasite for a little bit? You're not in the stasis chamber anymore. You're not dangerous. You're a person, beyond Pallas, The Crane, or," he swallows,

"Timson."

Parasite studies him again. Peter begins to fidget. "Is something wrong?"

"I don't know what to think of you. Timson thinks you're a bug. The Crane hates you. Pallas respects you, but you annoy her. But I remember… I was you for a while. But not anymore. How was that possible?"

Peter nods, understanding. "Timson was inside my head for a little bit. It was… unpleasant. But I got her out. I guess since you never touched me, you were only with her at the time. Is it confusing?"

Parasite yawns. "Sometimes. It's hardest realizing I'm… me. I think I'd like to sleep now."

"Of course," Peter says.

"Will you stay with me?"

He blinks in surprise. "Of course, Parasite. I'll be here when you wake up."

"And, Peter?"

"Hm?"

"My name is Michael."

Parasite -Michael -smiles and closes his eyes. Peter feels a protective urge stirring inside him, along with a sense of shame. He's going to need this boy.

Michael knows where Timson is. Pallas doesn’t know this.

Pallas walks down the hall, the lights still sputtering on occasion. Even after many repairs, even by heroes, there are still a lot of repairs to make. But first is the ethical problem of the children like Parasite. For there are more; two more besides Parasite and Light of Mornings. And the latter’s awakening had been such a disaster that Pallas’s spine freezes when she considers what the other two will be like.

As for Parasite, she can't justify keeping him awake. He is too dangerous.

And yes, she admits, he knows too much about her and her life. But as the most powerful, oldest hero in Seventh City, her knowledge is a matter of national security.

Briefly the concept stirs in her mind that this child is indeed someone who could possibly understand what she is going through, what she is feeling.

But he is just a carbon copy, not an independent mind. She shakes her head, conflict causing her to question again.

No. She has to put him back. Maybe later, after the Academy is back up and running, and there are more heroes she can trust, and the training starts back up, maybe then they can consider releasing the children Timson had marked "threats." But for now…

For now the locked door to Parasite's cell stands open, and Peter and Parasite are gone.

For the fourth time that day, Pallas swears, loud and long, and tears down the hallway toward the stairwell, the elevator still out of commission and needing substantial repairs. She briefly considers, in her rage, leaping through the ceiling, but a cooler head prevails.

Damn her for listening to Peter. Damn her for trusting him. Damn her for questioning anything.

She leaves the Academy front doors and leaps lightly atop the roof to survey the streets. Nowhere does she find an adult man and preteen boy running away. Where had they gone? Peter's car still stands in front of the Academy in the fifteen-minute parking space. She will find them. She has to.

Damn her. And damn them.

Peter peeks out of the room right beside Michael's recovery room, even though the boy had told him that Pallas was nowhere near. “You’re sure we shouldn’t talk to her about Timson, er, Shift?”

Michael shakes his head. “She will never let me go. She’ll follow Shift herself, but she can’t find her without me. She won’t believe me. You do.” His eyes on Peter were those of perfect trust.

Michael leads him out of the Academy through a maze Peter can't fathom, down hallways and up stairwells and through a side closet. It is disorienting realizing that the boy knows everything about the Academy that Timson, Crane and Pallas knew -including the key code to unlock the recovery room door.

They exit the Academy by a nondescript side door. "This is the door the heroes use to exit when they want to use their secret identities," the boy says.

Peter started. "They have secret identities? And we've never seen them?"

"Sure. They all do, except The Crane. Tattoo Devil would have problems, except he just takes his mask off and then he's just a Japanese dude with tattoos."

"It’s not like Seventh City is just crawling with people like him," Peter says. "How do we not notice them?"

The boy shrugs. "I think you don't want to. That's all.

"Wait." He holds his hand against Peter's chest as his eyes glaze. Peter holds his breath, was he looking through Pallas’ eyes? "OK, it's safe. She's back inside. Hasn't seen us. But she's gathering others. We need to go."

Peter thinks it might be best if he just leaves his car in front of the Academy. He had planned on leaving town in the next day or two, but he had nothing packed yet. He spots the city bus pulling into the bus stop and grins suddenly. "Come on."

At the bus stop, Peter pauses for a second to put his car keys on the ground. "That belongs to Keepsie now," he says. He'll call her when he and Michael are safely out of town and she can retrieve his car -her car, now. They board the bus and Peter pays for both of them.

The boy takes the window seat in the near-empty bus and gazes out as the bus rumbles and begins taking them out of the Seventh City limits toward the bus station.

"Are you scared?" Peter asks.

"I'm not her." The boy says. "They said I'm a threat because I'm so powerful, but I didn't feel powerful or dangerous. I don't even control most of what I do."

Peter smiles ruefully. "Remind me to introduce you to a friend of mine when all this dust settles."

"She's not going to ever let me come back. If I do, she'll put me asleep again," Michael says flatly.

"You don't know that…" Peter starts, and then blushes as the boy looks at him with a sardonic look on his face that indicates he may look twelve but he had lived the last 20 years through the eyes of adults. "OK, but you don't know what she'll do if you deliver Timson to her."

Michael swallows. "Yeah. Shift scares me."

"I know," Peter says softly. "But I need you to find her. You don't need to do anything after that, just help me find her."

Michael looks pale, but his eyes glaze over again. He blinks immediately and returns to Peter.

"She’s in Boston."

Credits

Mur Lafferty: Author

Paul Fischer: Layout and design

Rich Sigfrit: Web Monkey

Chris Miller & KJ Johnson: Producers/hosts of Stories Of the Third Wave

Jared Axelrod: PDF covers 1 thru 9, and hero insignia designs

JR Blackwell: Book cover design

JC Hutchins: Logo designs

Jamie Jordan: Production

Natalie Metzger: Art, PDF covers for Issues 10 thru 15, and pie