The Ascension: A Super Human Clash (23 page)

“No!” Roz screamed. “Stop—she's with me!”

The silver darts jerked free of Housten's shoulder and dropped to the ground.

“What's going on here, Roz?” the pilot asked, still staring at Housten.

“Who
are
you?”

Joshua said, “Roz, he's Brandon. Max's pilot.” He frowned. “You
know
that.”

Lance had finally calmed down enough for Roz to risk letting go of him. “And what is
she
doing here?” he asked.

Housten said, “We need to leave right now. The Praetorians will be on their way. I can't carry both of them, Roz. You need to decide which of them is more important to you—your friend or your brother.”

Roz turned to Brandon. “You obviously know that something happened to me and Max yesterday.”

He nodded. “I've overheard some stuff.” He looked from Roz to Lance, then to Housten. “You're going after Krodin, aren't you? Do you think you have a chance?”

“I don't know. But we have to try to stop him before Unity invades. So can we trust you?”

He looked around at them again, chewing absently on his lower lip. “I can see you're going to go anyway, Roz. I'm not the sort of guy who could stay at home while you risked your life. I'm in.”

“We need a Raptor,” Roz said.

Brandon said, “I'll call one in. And cancel the alarm. Where are we going?”

“Wherever Max is.”

“When I left him, he was on his way to Louisiana,” Brandon said.

“Suzanne, you said your people have a way to get in touch with Daedalus. We're going to need him.”

Housten glared at her. “My people are hardly in a position to contact anyone, thanks to you. Without them I'll never find Daedalus. We're on our own.”

 

On the edge of the Carrier's landing deck, Abby, James, and Brawn watched as Krodin approached.

When Krodin was four yards away, Abby backed up until she bumped into the side rail. “That's close enough!”

Krodin stopped. “What's so important that you couldn't come inside to tell me?”

Brawn and James moved back until they were level with Abby. Brawn said, “All three of us wanted to talk to you together.”

Krodin looked from one to the other. “You're going to agree to work with me, but only under certain conditions.”

Rats!
Abby said to herself.
I was sure we'd be able to string him along for longer than that!

“More or less,” James said. “But—”

Krodin shook his head. “No deals. No conditions.”

“But you haven't heard our offer yet,” James said.

The Fifth King hesitated for a moment. “I'm listening.”

“We'll help you unite the world, to put an end to war, poverty, and injustice, but we won't kill for you,” Abby said. “We won't harm innocent people in any way.”

James added, “And we won't be working for you. We'll be working
with
you.”

Krodin nodded slowly. “I'll take that into consideration.”

“And one more thing,” Brawn said. “I don't like heights. Either get this thing to fly lower, or find a way to get me inside. We've got to be, like, two miles up!”

“Your concept of distance is pathetic, Brawn,” Krodin said. “Our current altitude is only half that. A little more than a mile.”

“Promise?” Brawn asked.

“Of course,” Krodin said, nodding.

Then James smiled. “That's exactly what we were hoping you'd say.”

A frown. “What?”

“Now!” Abby yelled. She grabbed James's hand.

Simultaneously Brawn, James, and Abby threw themselves backward over the side rail.

Oh man, I
really
hope this works!
Abby thought as she tumbled through the air.

TEN MONTHS ago…

In Chicago, Solomon Cord was so intent on his work that when his computer's screens went blank, it took him a moment to realize that it wasn't a software glitch but a power cut: All the lights in his workshop had also gone out.

Nearby, a flashlight came on, its beam flickering about the room. “Oh great,” Casey's voice called. “What did you do this time?”

“Wasn't me,” Cord said. He peered around at the darkness, listening. “All the machines are down. We should…” His shoulders sagged. “Aw, nuts! The doors seal shut if the power goes. We can't get out.”

The flashlight beam bobbed closer. “Remember that time when I said this room should have windows? Remember? And you told me that every window halves the security of the room?”

Cord ignored him. He swiveled his chair around to the bench behind him, groped about until his fingers touched a rack of glass beakers. “Gotcha!”

“What are you doing?” Casey's voice asked.

Cord counted along the rack and stopped at the fifth beaker. “Our old friend H
₂
SO
₄
.”

“Sulfuric acid? In the dark? Oh,
that's
clever, Sol. Where do you want me to ship your remains?”

“Casey, this could be an attack. I don't have any weapons in here, do you?”

“No.”

“So switch off the flashlight—if this
is
an attack, that'll just tell them where we are.”

“No way. The emergency lights will kick in any—”

Something went
klank
in the corridor beyond the heavy steel doors, and Cord felt Casey's hand grip his arm. “Whoa, careful! Sulfuric acid, remember?”

“Sorry. What was that?”

The
klank
ing sound came again, louder this time.

“I do
not
like the sound of that,” Casey said. “How solid are those doors, exactly?”

“Solid enough, I hope.”

“Man, I
knew
we should have moved to the Louisiana base already. It's a lot safer there. Where's Max?”

“Probably in his office. Try your cell phone.”

“I already did. It's not working.”

Then Max's voice was screaming in his head: “We're under attack! Big guy in armor, I…No, can't pick up any thoughts from it—has to be some kind of robot. Came out of nowhere. Didn't trigger any of the alarms—took the guards down in seconds! Cord, he's heading right for you guys!”

Cord heard something metallic scraping along the other side of the doors.
Oh man…What else can I use as a weapon?

The whole room seemed to shudder as a powerful steel-covered fist plowed through the reinforced concrete next to the door. Beside Cord, Casey dropped the flashlight, dived to the floor, and began to scramble away.

The room was now in almost total darkness. Cord felt the sweat break out on his back and forehead, and he forced himself to keep calm.

There was the sound of another concrete-shattering punch, then the rattle and hiss of fragments crashing to the floor.

Heavy metallic feet crunched on fragments of brick as the machine—whatever it was—climbed its way through.

Cord hefted the container of acid in his hand as he tried to estimate the distance. Then he pulled his arm back and threw the beaker.

At the same time, he dropped to the floor. He heard the glass breaking, the splash of the acid.
Got it!

He saw the beam of the nearby flashlight and made a grab for it, but just as his fingers reached it, something slammed into the heavy workbench, shunting it toward Cord and almost crushing him in the process.

Overhead, the fluorescent lights began to flicker. The light was weak, sputtering, but it allowed Cord to see enough to grab the edge of the workbench and pull himself up.

On the far side of the room the flickering light revealed the black-and-gold-colored attacker striding toward Casey. It was metallic, man-shaped, bigger and bulkier than a human.

Daedalus—has to be him!
“Casey! Run!”

Thick with fear, Casey's voice came back: “I can't, I'm trapped. I…Cord, I can see his face—I know who he is!” Casey was screaming now. “I know who Daedalus is! You have to tell everyone! He's—”

Cord caught a glimpse of something glowing in the attacker's hand. Then it flared and all Cord knew was light, and silence, and pain.

He woke to see Max Dalton helping him sit up. Max was talking to him, but all Cord could hear was a soft muffle.

Then, inside his head, Max's voice said, “You're OK, Sol. It's gone. What was it? Daedalus?”

Cord nodded, and thought,
I think so. Big, armored…Casey said he saw his face. He knows who he is. Ask him….
Then he looked around at the room. It was all but destroyed.

Aloud, he asked, “Casey?”

“He's dead,” Max's voice said. “That explosion…One of the security cameras came back online long enough to catch it. He was vaporized.” He grabbed Cord's arm and pulled him to his feet. “You feeling all right?”

Cord nodded. “Ears are still ringing, but I'll be fine. Max, we have to stop this guy. He could have killed
all
of us. The way Casey reacted—Daedalus is someone we know. Could it be someone who survived Anchorage?”

Max shrugged. “I don't know…. A nuclear blast at ground zero? Even Krodin barely survived that. Better start packing up, Sol. We're relocating to the base in Louisiana within the hour.”

IN MANHATTAN, BRANDON Santamaría expertly guided the Raptor away from the Citadel and descended toward the park. Suzanne Housten sat in the co-pilot's seat next to him.

Lance sat on one side of the craft, glowering at Housten. Beside him, Roz started to speak, but he cut her off. Out of the side of his mouth, he said, “I know. It's not really her.”

“I felt the same when I saw her,” Roz said.

“Oh, I doubt that. Slaughter didn't kill
your
parents.”

“True. But at least you got yours back. Very few people can say that.”

Lance slumped down even farther in the chair. “You're right. Sorry. It's been a tough couple of days. I got arrested, sent to prison, and had to escape.”

“I was chased, caught, knocked out, and then I escaped and got trapped in the abandoned subways.”

She looked as though she was about to add more—Lance could tell she'd been crying—but he decided not to push it. “OK, you win. Have you had any contact with Abby or Thunder or Brawn?”

“No, but Max talked to Abby yesterday.”

The craft touched down, its hatch slid open, and Solomon Cord rushed in, followed by a younger man Lance hadn't seen before.

“No way you're coming with us, Joe,” Roz said. “Get out!”

The man spread his arms, pleading. “Aw, c'mon, Roz! I'm a good fighter, and anyway you can't leave me behind because any minute the place will be crawling with Praetorians.” He dropped into one of the seats. “Where
are
we going, anyway?”

Suzanne Housten said, “Louisiana.”

Joe said, “Oh fantastic. The Deep South. A whole state full of nothing but swamps, screen doors, homemade lemonade, and bare feet.”

Lance said, “Hey, my
mother's
from Louisiana, you jerk!”

Roz walked over to Joe. “I said no, and I meant no.”

Joe grinned. “Ah, now you're just playing hard to get, Roz. I—”

She grabbed him by the collar and pulled him up out of the seat. “Get out!” She pushed him back toward the still-open hatch.

“No, wait! Seriously, you can't
do
this to me! Suzanne!”

Without looking at him, Suzanne said, “I suggest you find someplace to hide, Joe. She's not going to change her mind, and we sure need her a lot more than we need you.”

Then, as though struck by a powerful wind, Joe was stumbling backward through the hatchway and down the short ramp.

“Brandon, take us up,” Roz said.

Cord spotted Lance and sat down next to him as the Raptor surged into the air once more. “Lance. How are you doing?”

“Not so good, Mr. Cord.” He nodded toward Suzanne Housten.

“I can understand that.”

“How are we going to stop Krodin?”

Cord shook his head. “I wish I knew. But the others are with him in Louisiana, and this time we have Sl”—he stopped himself—“Ms. Housten on our side. Whether that'll be enough, I couldn't say.” He leaned back and closed his eyes. “I don't even want to think about it now. Roz, what's our ETA?”

“We've got about eleven hundred miles to cover. About two hours.”

“OK. Housten, we need to know what Unity's plans are.”

She turned to him. “Yes, we do. And if Roz hadn't crippled General Westwood, we could have asked him.”

“Bad news, Roz,” Brandon said. “According to the reports Abigail de Luyando, James Klaus, and Brawn are in custody on board Krodin's command ship. Max is with them, but he's…”

Roz looked up. “Go on.”

“He's not in custody. He seems to have resumed his usual duties.”

Cord said, “We have to assume that he's working from the inside.”

Lance looked at Cord, who quickly looked away.
He still doesn't trust Max
, Lance thought,
but he doesn't want everyone to know that.

“What was that thing you hit me with?” Suzanne Housten asked Brandon.

“Stun gun. A prototype. Any normal person would have been out cold instantly.”

“Lucky I'm not a normal person, then. You've met Krodin, right? You think we can take him on?”

“Oh, you can take him on all right,” Brandon said. “But you won't win.” He turned to her. “He could—and probably will—kill you all without a second thought. We're no more important to him than…sand or bugs. But Krodin's not evil. Misguided, perhaps, but I've met him many times, and I've never seen anything that makes me think he shouldn't be in power.”

What are you up to, Brandon?
Lance wondered.
If Max can't control you, then…What are you doing here? You can't be working with the resistance because Slaughter doesn't know you.

Cord said, “Are you kidding me? That was Max messing with your mind, you idiot. He was controlling you like he controls everyone else. For all you know, you've witnessed Krodin butcher hundreds of people and every time Max just wiped your memory.”

Josh leaned close to Roz and whispered, “Max wouldn't do something like that, would he?” Louder, he said to Cord, “You're talking like he's one of the bad guys or something.”

Lance said, “He controls people's minds and forces them to do whatever he wants. I'm pretty sure that doesn't make him one of the
good
guys.”

 

The wind ripped at James Klaus's clothing as he fell, catching him and spinning him around so that he could no longer see the Carrier. All he could see was the ground rushing toward him.

Abby's hand was locked around his wrist, as his was around hers. Her eyes were closed and he could feel her nails digging into his arm. He knew exactly how she felt. If Krodin had been lying, they would be dead within seconds.

The figures ran through his head:
Five thousand feet. Accelerating at thirty-two point two feet per second squared…
James spread his arms and legs wide to increase his wind resistance and slow his fall.
Oh man, this had
better
work!

To his left and a little below him he could see Brawn, falling faceup.

Then the howling wind jumped in volume so suddenly that for a moment James was sure his eardrums had burst.

A shock of pain ran through his arm and he almost screamed. Abby's grip was almost grinding his radius and ulna together. Then he realized what was happening, and he didn't care about the pain.

He glanced over at Brawn again. The giant was laughing.

James heard Abby praying softly to herself.

“Hey,” he said. “You can relax your grip.”

Abby's eyes snapped open. “We're alive? It worked?”

With his free hand James jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Take a look.”

Brawn seemed to be accelerating away from them, streaking toward the ground. He was laughing. “Oh, I'm gonna do
this
again!”

Brawn crashed straight through the treetops and hit the swamp hard in an explosion of bark, leaves, and turbid water.

James touched down with Abby on a nearby patch of relatively dry ground. “He's still laughing. I guess that means he's OK.”

Abby walked to the edge of the swamp where Brawn was climbing out. She grabbed his hand and pulled. “Ew! You're covered in slime!”

James searched the sky for the Carrier and found it—a dark dot against the clouds. “We can't stay here. They might send someone after us—and if they do, it's my guess they'll have the power-damper with them. Brawn, you're faster than any of us. You think you can run while carrying Abby? I can fly.”

The giant nodded, spraying James with drops of muddy water. “Sure. But if they get close enough to us, we're gonna lose our powers again. So better not fly too high. The real question is…where are we going to go? We can't go near Krodin as long as he has the power-damper.”

Abby said, “We don't have a choice. We'll just have to come up with something. Pity we couldn't take Max with us.”

“So what do we do now?” Brawn asked.

James absently chewed on his lower lip as he looked around. “I'll hear them coming, so we have the advantage there…. We have to get to Krodin's base.”

“Right. Get to Dalton, and get rid of the power-damper.”

“No, our first priority is to destroy Krodin's teleporter.” He pointed in the direction the Carrier had gone. “We can't be too far out from the base. Let's go.”

Abby and Brawn trudged through the swamp after him.

“It'll be guarded,” Brawn said, ducking under an overhanging branch. “We need to find a way to disable the Praetorians first.”

“Again, not our first priority.”

Abby said, “Yeah, but if they're between us and the teleporting machine, then…”

He turned around and stared at her, looked up at Brawn.
How can I ask them to do this? Even Brawn. Back home everyone thought he was a villain, but he's not.

Abby put her hand on his arm. “What are you saying?”

“If we can't disable Krodin before the attack by Unity, we're looking at all-out war. Millions of people will die. And those men, Krodin's guards…I'm saying that we will do whatever is necessary to destroy the teleporter. Do you understand me? If we have no other choice, we will kill those who get in our way.”

 

The Raptor was halfway across New Jersey when Brandon called out, “Incoming! We've got sixteen marks on a pursuit vector, attack formation.”

Roz jumped to her feet. “Full speed!”

“Already pushing the red line. They're coming in at almost twice our speed. We've got about three minutes.”

“Raptors?” Cord asked.

“No, too small and too fast.”

Housten said, “I'm picking up four Jetmen—just launched themselves from the lead Raptor. They're going to try to board us. And there's another eight flying Skimmers—one-man craft. Not a lot of firepower or armor, but they're fast and very maneuverable.” She called up a display on the screen: It showed a low, sleek craft not much bigger than a surfboard. The pilot lay horizontally on the inside and controlled the craft with his feet as well as his hands. “Takes a lot of skill to fly one—which means we're up against the best pilots the Praetorians have.”

“Getting a transmission,” Suzanne said.

A voice crackled over the craft's speaker system: “Un authorized Raptor, this is Agent Paquette, chief of the Manhattan Praetorian Division. You will disengage your forward thrust and prepare to be boarded. This will be your only warning. Respond.”

Roz said, “How do I talk…?”

Brandon hit one of the controls. “Go ahead.”

“Agent Paquette, this is Roz Dalton.”

A pause. “Roz, what are you doing? You do
not
take a Raptor without filing a flight plan. What's your destination?”

“Louisiana.”

“I see. You don't have permission. Bring your craft to a halt and prepare to be boarded.”

“Sorry, can't do that.”

“That wasn't a suggestion, Roz. If you do not comply, we will consider you a hostile and take appropriate action.”

“Max has worked your mind over pretty good, hasn't he? You used to be one of the good guys.”

“Last warning:
Stand down!
”

“Agent Paquette, we have civilians on board. Trust me, you don't want to fire on us. I have my brother Joshua here.”

A sigh of exasperation, then, “You were warned.”

The connection died.

Roz said, “Keep going, Brandon. Take whatever evasive action you need. Suzanne—I know you can fly, and you're extremely strong and fast. Get out there and get them off our tail. If you can, disable one of the Jetmen and bring him inside. Paragon, you think you could fly one of their jetpacks?”

Cord nodded. “I'll give it a go.”

“Everyone else, strap in and hold tight.”

“You don't get to give me orders, Dalton,” Suzanne said, getting out of her seat.

“Yes I do. You're our best hope of stopping them. Move!” She followed Suzanne to the hatchway and looked toward her brother. “It'll be OK.”

Lance said, “What are
you
going to do?”

“I won't know until I'm out there.”

Suzanne opened the hatch and the cold air instantly blasted through the Raptor. “Someone close this after us: The open door will slow us down. And be prepared to open it when we come back.” She launched herself out.

Roz leaned out through the hatch and spotted a handrail to the left. She grabbed it and climbed, hand over hand, onto the top of the hull.

A moment later she saw them: a cluster of bright points directly behind the Raptor, coming in like oversized heat-seeking missiles. On her right Suzanne was streaking toward them.

Gripping the handrail as tightly as she could, she reached out with her telekinesis toward the Skimmers. The distance was much farther than she'd ever attempted, but that wouldn't be for long.

First one that gets in range…,
Roz thought.

She saw Suzanne crash straight into the lead Skimmer, and the others scattered, spreading out in all directions before resuming their approach.

Roz felt a slight resistance against her telekinetic probe. “Gotcha!” She focused on the closest Skimmer, pushed against its thrust. The craft wavered for a moment, but kept coming.
Not close enough yet.

Suzanne zoomed back toward the Raptor and caught up with a second Skimmer. She landed on its fuselage, smashed open the canopy, and tore off the pilot's helmet. A quick punch to the back of his head and the man was unconscious. As Roz watched, Suzanne leaped from the craft and it began to drift off to the right.

Roz focused again on the closest Skimmer, and this time she was able to grab hold of it. She flipped it onto its back and let go. Upside down, the pilot suddenly found himself hurtling in the wrong direction. His Skimmer crashed head-on into one of his colleagues, and the two craft tumbled slowly toward the ground, a tangled mess of ruined armor plating and sputtering engines.