The Ascension: A Super Human Clash (22 page)

LESS THAN HALF A MILE from Roz Dalton's position, Lance McKendrick was in her apartment stretched out on an enormous leather sofa with his shoes off. He had a large bowl of popcorn resting on his stomach and a brimming glass of fresh grapefruit juice on the glass coffee table beside him.

He kept looking at the phone. He wanted to call his parents, but he knew that would be a bad idea: All phone calls were monitored and logged.

Josh Dalton wandered over to him and asked, “So, who are you exactly?”

“I'm a friend of your sister.”

“Are you her boyfriend?”

“Hardly.”

“Is that yes or no?”

“It's no.”

“And what can you do?”

Lance paused with an overflowing handful of popcorn halfway to his mouth. “Eh?”

“You know. Can you fly, lift heavy weights, see through walls? That kinda thing. What's your power?”

“Well, I seem to be pretty good at getting caught. I think I'll call myself Captain Captured.” He laughed, and then stopped when he realized that Josh wasn't joining in. “I guess you've met a lot of people with cool powers.”

“A few, yeah.”

Josh reached out to the popcorn bowl and Lance automatically snatched it away before he remembered where he was. “Help yourself.”

The boy sat down on the edge of the coffee table. “I don't have any friends.” He said this in a matter-of-fact way. “Apart from Brandon, and he's too old to really play games. He's, like, twenty-four or something.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Lance said. “Everyone needs friends.”

“Do
you
want to play a game?”

“Sure.”

“OK. I'm thinking of a number between one and ten.”

Is he kidding?
“It's six.”

Joshua's eyes widened. “Yes! I thought you said you didn't have any powers.”

“I don't. Joshua, when someone picks a number between one and ten, they almost always pick six. I'll give you another one. Think of a vegetable.”

“OK.”

“A carrot.”

The boy sat back. “That is so cool! How did you know?”

“Same thing. People nearly always pick carrots. Don't know why, though. Tell me something…. What exactly does your brother
do
? What's his job, exactly?”

“I dunno.” Joshua shrugged. “Works for the Chancellor. Helps him get things done.”

“Have you met the Chancellor?”

“Sure, loads of times. He's good fun. He lets me sit on his shoulders, and he carries me around. But Roz says I'm getting too old for that now.”

Lance passed him the bowl and stood up, then looked back at the Lance-shaped outline of spilled popcorn on the sofa. “Better clean that up, I suppose.” As he was scooping up the popcorn, an idea struck him. “Josh, have you got a deck of cards?”

“No. Gambling is illegal.”

“Of course it is. OK, let's have a look at that meteor.”

Josh fished around in his pocket and pulled out the black rock. “It's a tektite. And the word you mean is meteor
ite,
not
meteor.
”

“What's the difference?”

“A meteorite reaches the ground. A meteor completely burns up in the atmosphere.” He handed the rock to Lance. “You're not going to do anything to it, are you?”

Lance held up the small rock between the thumb and index finger of his left hand. “I'll show you how to make it disappear.” He closed his right hand over the rock—and at the last moment parted his thumb and index finger so that the tektite dropped into the palm of his left hand. He held his closed right fist in front of Joshua, and frowned as he stared at it. “OK. So I have to concentrate as hard as I can on the meteorite, squeeze
really
hard….” He held out his left fist, now closed over the tektite. “I'm going to teleport it into my other hand.” Lance was squeezing both fists so tightly that his arms began to tremble. “Done! And now, I'll teleport it
back
.” He frowned in concentration again.

Josh laughed. “That's a terrible trick! You didn't do anything at all!”

Lance sighed. “Ah, you broke my concentration. Now I can't send it back.” He uncurled both fists.

Josh stared at the tektite in Lance's left hand. “How did you do that? I was watching the whole time!”

“Misdirection,” Lance said. “It was always in my left hand.” He tossed the rock back to Josh.

“Show me how to do that.”

 

Standing on the forward edge of the Carrier's landing deck, Abby gripped the handrail and watched the landscape slip by beneath. The wind whipped at her hair and stung her eyes, and if she looked straight ahead, she could almost imagine that she was flying.

James stood on Abby's left, and on her right Brawn was again lying on his back with his hands clasped behind his head, staring up at the clouds.

A few yards away, their guards stood in a wide semicircle around them, constantly on alert.

“So what do we do?” Abby asked. She was sure that the guards weren't close enough to hear them over the constant hiss of the wind.

“We've gotta get off this thing for a start,” Brawn said. “But I don't see how. With these guys watching us all the time and no powers we're pretty much useless. He's not going to let us live, you know that? Maybe we
should
sign up with him. I mean, if we assume he's going to win anyway, then we might as well cut our losses.”

James said, “Krodin's a tyrant. If we take his side just to make our own lives easier, then we're as bad as he is.”

“I understand that—I'm not an idiot. But there's what's right, and there's what's best. I'm just saying that if there's no going back to our world, and there's no way we can stop him, then we'd be nuts to keep fighting. Krodin's right about how the world would be better if there was just one leader. Even if it was a dictatorship, at least everyone would be treated equally. No more poor people, no crime, no discrimination.”

“Right. Just a whole planet of slaves instead,” James said. “And I know you're blue now, but you weren't always, so don't talk to
us
about discrimination. You haven't been there. You don't know what it's like to always have people judge you by the color of your skin.”

“Don't I?” Brawn looked up at him. “What color do you think I was before I turned into a blue giant?” He climbed to his feet. “You guys do what you want. I'm going to talk to Krodin.”

Abby reached up and put her hand on his arm. “Stay. Please.”

He pulled away from her. “Don't pretend you care what happens to me, Abby.”

“We don't want to have to fight you too.”

“Fight
me
? You wouldn't stand a chance!”

“We'd prefer not to have to find out,” she said. “And I know what you're doing. You think you'll have a better chance of being accepted if you're with Krodin. But he's not going to make you his friend—at best he'll make you his pet.”

Brawn stopped. “I just want a normal life. I never asked to be like this.” He slowly turned back to face them. “How am I supposed to ever get a girlfriend? Or even a job? People run screaming when they see me. I just walk down the street and they call the cops on me. I was twelve when it happened, did you know that? No, you don't know anything about me. You see me as a blue giant and you think that's all there is. But I had a life. Not a great one, but at least I had some control over it.”

Abby saw that he had tears in his pupil-less eyes.

He sat down again, crossed his arms over his knees, and rested his head on them. “I was twelve,” Brawn said. “I was in church. In the choir. I had a solo piece coming up and I was a bit worried about it, and then my hands started shaking. I thought it was just nerves. Then there was pain like you wouldn't believe—felt like my body was on fire. It was over in a few seconds, and all I could hear was screaming as all the people stampeded out of the church. It happened that quick—one minute I was an ordinary kid, next I was thirteen feet tall, blue, and bald.”

James said, “You might never become human again.”

“That's supposed to make me feel better?”

“No. I'm saying that there aren't just two options—human or monster. You can use your strength to help people. Go back home to your old neighborhood and ignore the screams. Pretty soon they'll get used to having you around. They'll accept you as part of the community. Especially if you stop a few muggings and take down all the pushers. Tell the authorities you want to go back to school. You're still a citizen—you still have rights. I'm not saying it'll be easy, but in the long run it'll be a lot better than living in a cave or whatever.”

“He's right,” Abby said. “We're all superhuman and we can't help that, but we do have a choice as to whether we're heroes or villains. People are going to try and make you into a bad guy because of how you look, but just don't let them. It's not like they'd be able to push you around.”

“Stick with us,” James said. “You know it's the right thing to do.”

“Even if we don't have a chance?”

“Especially then,” Abby said. “Anyone can be a hero when they know they're going to win.”

Brawn lifted his head. “I have an idea.”

 

Roz Dalton and Solomon Cord raced through what remained of the southern end of Central Park—a strip about eight blocks deep—with Joe still slung over Cord's shoulder.

So far, almost no one had paid them any attention, except for the quartet of Praetorian guards who had been stationed on the corner of Central Park and were now lying unconscious and battered on the street.

“That bunch of trees over there,” Roz said. “We can rest for a few minutes.”

“And decide where we're actually going,” Cord said breathlessly. He lowered Joe to the ground at the base of a tree, then dropped down next to him.

Roz looked up through the canopy of leaves to the towers of the Citadel. “I have to get up there. Get my little brother out.”

Joe groaned, and she crouched down next to him. “At last. Joe, can you hear me? Mr. Ward?”

“Roz? That you?”

“Yeah, Joe. It's me. I need to get into my apartment. Do you know which one it is?”

His eyes flickered open. “What hit me?”

“I did. Now tell me where I live or I'll do it again.”

“South tower, floor one-thirty. The very top.” He sat up and clutched his head. “Man, feels like you used me as a bowling ball.” He looked at Cord. “Uh-oh.”

Cord grabbed hold of Joe's collar and pulled him close. “You morons were going to kill me.”

“Uh…Does that not fit in with your plans?”

Cord angrily pushed him away and stood up. “How do we get into the Citadel?”

Then a voice from above said, “I'll get you in.”

Roz whirled around to see Suzanne Housten descending through the branches.

“You left a real mess back there, Dalton. Broken bones and fractured skulls. You've ruined everything. Those people are some of the most experienced soldiers in Unity. They were the only hope we had to stop Krodin.”

Cord said, “Your plan was
insane
, Slaughter. Krodin wouldn't—”

She streaked toward him, and Cord found himself pressed against the trunk of the tree. “Don't call me that! I'm not her!”

Cord didn't flinch. “You're playing the part pretty well.”

She let go and stepped back. “Dalton, I'll get your brother out. But you owe me. Big-time. Understood?”

Roz nodded.

“Good. Take my hand.”

Roz reached out and suddenly she was being pulled into the air, crashing through the tree's upper branches. They rocketed toward the base of the tower, and then Housten angled straight upward.

Roz thought her arm was going to be wrenched out of its socket. She glanced down and saw the ground shrinking away.

Housten stopped almost as suddenly as she had started. They were outside a ring of windows, looking into the largest apartment Roz had ever seen.

“A good example of Krodin's new world,” Housten said. “Your little friend Victoria lived in garbage and died from malnutrition, and look at this place. One rule for the rich, another for the rest.”

“I never lived here,” Roz said. “And you don't get to talk to me like that! You—”

“Cover your eyes.”

Roz threw up the telekinetic shield less than a second before Housten crashed her fist into the nearest window. The two-inch-thick glass shuddered into a spiderweb of cracks. Another blow, and it splintered inward. Housten hauled Roz inside and dropped her to the carpet.

An alarm immediately began to sound, and over the noise Roz shouted, “Josh!”

She saw him, twenty yards away, staring at her with his mouth wide open. Beside him was Lance McKendrick. There was a large glass bowl in Lance's hand with popcorn slowly spilling out of it.

Lance screamed, jumped onto the leather sofa and over it, raced toward Housten, and swung the glass bowl at her face. It shattered instantly, leaving the woman completely unmarked.

Roz grabbed his arm, pulled him away. “Lance, no!”

“She killed them! She murdered my parents and my brother!”

“Lance, it wasn't her—this isn't Slaughter!”

“Let go of me, Roz! I'm going to kill her!”

Housten said, “We don't have time for this. Just take your brother and let's go.”

Roz was still struggling to hold Lance back. “No, we're taking Lance with us.”

Then something crashed on the far side of the room, Housten staggered and started to twitch, and a tall man in a Praetorian pilot's uniform was rushing toward them.

“Get everyone out of here, Roz!” the pilot yelled. He was holding an oversized black pistol: A thin, loose cable led from the pistol's underside to a pair of silver darts on Housten's shoulder.