Age of Power 1: Legacy (24 page)

Once we introduced ourselves to the receptionist, she made a
call. A few moments later, a woman came out from a small office set beyond the
reception desk. As she came around to join us, she introduced herself as
Anna-Marie Miras, an FBI agent, showing her badge to prove it. Miras had a
light complexion and dark hair and was surprisingly shorter than even I was.
Until now, I’d thought all FBI agents had to be above a certain height. Asking
our names, Miras reached into a valise she was carrying and pulled out an iPad.
A list of names, I guessed from a quick glance.

With a friendly smile, she said, “Mr. Hagen, we’re a little
shorthanded with most of our agents out in the field. If you don’t mind
waiting, could we question Ms. Sinclair first? I promise it won’t be long.”

I said, “Sure, she’s my ride, after all.”

With an easy smile, Miras said, “Well then, we’ll try to make
this easy for both of you. If you’ll each sign in at the front desk, I’ll
inform the interviewing agents that you’re here.”

With that, the agent walked off toward the back hallway while
Dana and I went to the front desk. The receptionist smiled, though she looked a
bit distracted as she handed Dana the clipboard with a pen on it. She returned
to talking to someone on the phone.

Dana signed her name on the board. As she did, she said, “What’s
your dad’s interview for, Vaughn? He mentioned that he had one today before he
went to wake you. Is it with the FBI?”

I gave a slight start. I had completely forgotten about that. I
said, “Oh, um, no, it’s some business thing. Because he moved here, he has to
do some lawyer stuff and deal with his business in Chicago. It’s nothing big.
He wanted to make sure his regular crews had their separation bonuses. And he’s
reviewing their records to be certain that they can be hired on with other
construction companies.”

“He works in construction?”

I gave a nod as I signed my name on the board.
“Yeah.
Because he’s here now, he’s closed the business.
Though, with the mess from Yama and the Exodus, there wasn’t much
he had to do.
But he wanted to make sure everyone was taken care of
before he started a new business here.”

Dana looked surprised and impressed. She said, “Your father
is…wow. You have a very good father. Most businessmen these days wouldn’t do
something like that.”

I grinned and said, “It’s just how he is. My parents were major
70s kids who were raised to feel responsible for people. My mom and aunt grew
up in one of those New Age communities started in the 70s. My aunt got big into
Wicca, and my mom and dad helped people where they could. And they still do. I
guess I take after them, after all, given how I reacted to what happened on
Main.”

Miras came back then, and, with a gesture toward a waiting area
near the front doors, escorted Dana away. Dana gave me a winsome—if sarcastic—
smile
. I returned it with one of my own. She grinned and
shook her head.

Hopefully the interviews would be quick, and afterward, we could
go do something about figuring out this talent. Taking a seat in one of a row
of cherry wood-framed, cushioned chairs, I relaxed. Left alone, I watched
people in the room.

Not much occurred, except that every so often, the well-dressed
receptionist would answer a phone or talk with someone. Others would enter or
exit offices in the two halls beyond the reception desk. I noticed someone moving
in a large side office but didn’t pay much attention.

I found myself relaxing. The place helped a person relax with
neutral blues and light gray floors and stained cherry wood frames around the
windows. After the last few days, I needed the relaxing surroundings.

Someone in the side office was gesturing emphatically with his
arms. Blinds covered most of the windows, but
a couple were
partially open, so I could see the drama going on every so often as whoever was
in there walked in and out of sight. Someone was having a big argument in
there.

With a cynical snort, I guessed to myself that it was over some
silly algorithm or dropped test tube that ruined an experiment. Then I caught
myself. With all the questions going on lately and all the testing I went
through last January, I guess I wasn’t feeling too charitable towards
scientists.

I closed my eyes and relaxed a bit more. But then a thought came
to me. Until now, I’d been just reacting to events with this power of mine.
Even when I had followed that thumping noise, it was because my hearing had
gotten out of control. Glancing around the office, I decided I should see if I
could do something without having to be in a situation where I was about to
die.

So relaxing back in the chair as much as I could, I let myself
go unfocused. I noticed that Erick Ryan got up from his desk, and he was
arguing with the other scientist. Ryan was wearing a maroon sweater, but the
other man was wearing a white lab coat. From that, I figured him to be a
scientist, but he looked relatively young, with black hair pulled back tightly
in a ponytail, and a chin beard. He had a Russian accent. Ah, kicked in
already, had it? I took advantage of my hearing and listened.

“Erick! Look at the results again! I tell you,
they are right! Something has happened!”

Ryan said, 
“Alexi, calm down. This has to be a mistake’”

“Erick, I’m telling you that the data is
correct! I’m not insane!”
 Alexi said.

Ryan yelled back, matching the younger scientist’s attitude as
he said, 
“Alexi, it’s not possible. You have to rerun those tests,
that’s all there is to it. For something like that to happen is impossible.
Magnesium simply can’t exist like this in a human cell, not as a part of the
coating! Your results have to be wrong!”

I realized that if they kept that up, I wouldn’t need enhanced
hearing to listen to them. Everyone would hear them soon enough. But things
calmed down as Ryan answered Alexi. I watched as they went to a computer
screen, looking at something on the screen. Then I looked away before someone
noticed that I was staring at Ryan’s office.

Inside the office, Alexi said, 
“Look! The cell coating
has it as part of the infrastructure. See, here it is—magnesium! It’s
intermixed with the carbon, oxygen, and nitrogen atoms in such a way that it’s
created a sort of sandwiched chain effect around the cell! And as for the DNA,
I’m seeing excessive magnesium ions in both the adenine and the cytosine
bonds!”

I shook my head. Huh? I really needed to get into science. That
went way over my head. Then Ryan said, 
“Look at that superstructure!
Even the uracil in the RNA is showing the same excess. That’s not possible.
That kind of reaction would burn in the first moment that the oxygen and
hydrogen connected. Everything you’ve just shown me is out-and-out impossible!
I’m sorry, Alexi. You have to rerun the tests. This is…well, it’s wrong. That’s
all there is to it.”

My eyes widened. It clicked in my brain that this had to do with
me somehow. I was taking magnesium daily. It was a part of my diet now. Dr.
Kirksten had said I was taking almost double the amount normally required. Now
I was beginning to wonder if that’s what these guys were referring
to
. Our cells had changed. The idea that I might be
unstable—
cell-wise
—bothered me. But Alexi’s voice drew
me back into the conversation.

Alexi said, 
“No it’s not, Erick! That’s what I’m trying
to tell you! The results are right there! I am certain of it! Look, I went over
the results three times. I found something that might explain the differences.
There is an intron attached to the mTc24.305 gene. I found it in the body of
every victim tested! I am absolutely certain that intron is what became active
on the Day!”

My eyes widened. They had bodies here. 
Whose?
 And
what was this about an ‘intron?’

“Mr. Hagen? I’m Agent Dobrowski.” I jumped in the chair,
startled by the voice. I looked to my left and saw someone standing right next
to me, looking down expectantly. I growled to myself to stop focusing so
narrowly. If I kept this up, I’d get myself killed one of these days.

Getting to my feet, I said, “Ah, sorry, I got lost in
thought. 
Ready for me?”
I noticed that I came up
to his chest. The agent was a big bruiser type, an African-American man who
looked ready to pull a gun and shoot me as soon as help me. Then he
smiled and I relaxed a small bit.

He gestured toward the hallway on the other side
of reception. He said, “Not quite, Mr. Hagen. Ms. Sinclair isn’t finished
yet, but we do have a room you can wait in.”

I nodded, and we went down the hall to the first open door.
Dobrowski closed the door. Inside, a table and two chairs were set up. I was
the only person there, so I sat, I waited, and I listened. In spite of the
walls, I still heard what they were saying. I heard Ryan speaking. I’d missed
something, but what I heard was disturbing.

Ryan said, 
“You’re telling me that if they’d been
stable, they would have lived? But they weren’t! They died! Obviously, from
this crazy configuration, the magnesium turned toxic to everyone who died and
are in the basement freezers!”

Alexi continued. 
“No! 
Not all of
them.
 And those who died most likely did so from the lack of
magnesium in the cells, not from the changes to their structure! I’m certain
that is true from the large number of samples I have tested! And the blood
samples from those two in the town, Hagen and Houseman, they were definitely
stable!”

My hearing started reaching a limit of some sort. I was getting
a headache as the words began fading. Still, I heard Ryan mutter something
about ‘magnesium based DNA,’ and then he said, 
“Well, I don’t know if
we can get more. The labs said there was an accident and that the rest of the
samples were lost. I called Kular, but she’s been in consultation all day with
someone. And besides, did you hear about the Houseman boy dying? It’s likely
that it came from that. He overheated from his own body overreacting from the
magnesium and that, in turn, caused the aneurysm. The only donor we have now is
Vaughn Hagen. Do you want to go ask him? Be my guest! But if he’s got
that same genetic damage, he’s probably going to die, too!”

I blinked. 
Die?
 
What?
 
But…no!
 
I…

Just then, two more FBI agents interrupted my rising fears as
they came in and introduced themselves. Pace was the taller of the two who wore
polarized blue glasses, and Rachman was the shorter one, a completely bald guy
with green eyes. They got down to business, though, and I answered all their
questions. As calmly as I could manage, I told them that I’d heard a thundering
sound before the first car exploded. I didn’t tell them that it had started as
footfalls on pavement. I still wasn’t sure what that meant, except that it made
me suspect another superhuman.

Overall, they were very friendly, and once they finished, they
smiled, thanked me, and started out the door. Then Pace turned and said that
someone would be in to escort me out. I took it in stride, and once the door
closed, I listened for any more information from Ryan and his friend in the big
office. I wasn’t happy with what Ryan had said before about dying.

If there was something that badly wrong with me, why wasn’t I
dead yet? Or was Brand just the first one to…I pushed that horrible thought
from my mind. I had to get out of there and tell Dana. I just hoped she’d be
able to help me figure things
out
. I started to stand
just as the door opened. Expecting an FBI agent, I was surprised when Dane
Eisenhawk came in.

He said, “Hello, Vaughn. I’m sorry to bother you. But I had more
questions, which I was hoping you could answer.”

I just looked at the persistent son of a bitch. I said, “Of
course you do.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

As
Eisenhawk sat down, I said, "You know, if I looked up the word ‘obsession’
in the dictionary, your face would be right there underneath, wouldn't
it?"

Eisenhawk
raised a brow and gave me a thin-lipped smile. "Mr. Hagen, with all due
respect, I am trying to do my job to best of my ability. Now, if you would just
answer a few questions, I'm sure we can expedite an end to your time
here."

Coldly,
I said, "Mr. Eisenhawk, the FBI told me this was an interview about the
attack on my hometown.”

Sitting
in the chair across from me, Eisenhawk seemed to ignore my outburst and my
question as he put his valise down and opened it.

As
he rummaged through it, he said, "I am assisting the FBI and the police in
this matter, Mr. Hagen. But this has more to do with information that has
recently come to light in the past twenty-four hours."

I
narrowed my eyes as I said, “If this is about Alex Shaw again...sir…"

See?
I can be polite. I didn't call him names.
Granted, I said it with a sharp tone to my voice.

But
he ignored that and said, "Actually, thanks to Brian Shaw's recent
revelations, I am no longer concerned about Alex Shaw. I’m quite aware of his
background. As far as I’m concerned, all the questions concerning his past have
been answered."

I
shook my head and sighed. "That's just wonderful. Maybe someday you can
publish a book. Now, if there's nothing else—"

"Empowered,"
he said, interrupting me.

I
gave him a look. "What? Okay…and that means…?"

Eisenhawk
said, "I was hoping you would know.
It's a word that’s
been mentioned in some of the Internet's virtual chat rooms for the past month
or so. The blogosphere has repeatedly brought it up, as well. And it's not
about emotional or spiritual empowerment, as the terminology is normally
applied. It's been on Twitter, Facebook—"

“Failbook,
maybe,” I quipped, referring to the web site that featured screenshots of
status updates that people found to be funny. He must have gotten the reference
because for the first time since we met, he smiled.

Still,
his voice was dead serious when he said, "Are you aware of that word being
used in the past few weeks by anyone, Mr. Hagen?"

He
kept saying my name like that, and every time he did, I wanted to look around
to see if my dad was behind me. His polite attitude was throwing me off,
especially since before now, he'd been a total jackass towards me. He had been
smarmy, arrogant, and dismissive in response to the answers I’d given him during
the hospital interview.

I
wanted to give it back to him, but I stayed polite and said, "But I
haven't had a chance to get online very much for quite a while now. You may
have heard that I had quite a lot of people interviewing me. It kept me from
having much time site surfing. So I don't know anything about Empowered. Sorry,
I can't help you. So can I go now?"

I
started to leave.

He
said, "One moment please. I ask this, because I have a hunch this is
connected to the bombing, and to Alex Shaw."

I
looked back at him, half-standing. I said, "Okay, how?"

He
said, "I suspect it's either a codeword or the name of the group involved
in the bombings."

I
said, "So this is still about Alex. Why tell me, though?"

Eisenhawk
rubbed at the soul patch on his chin, for a moment. Then, he said, "Yes,
you and Dana may have been correct, about their being a connection to Alex and
the bombings. I'd like you to show you something."

Eisenhawk
took a folder from the valise and opened it to show me a fuzzy looking picture
of a dark-haired woman with an olive complexion. She had deep black eyes and a
tight look to her expression.

The
woman was with three other men surrounding her. They were all wearing various
types of desert style clothing, light in color and airy. Beyond them, was a
sandstone wall, but nothing gave detail to tell me where they were, precisely.
The woman looked tense when someone took the picture. She was angry about
something.

Whatever
was going on, she didn't enjoy what the men were telling her. The man speaking with
her was gesturing almost violently. His back was to the camera, so I couldn’t
see who he was. I noticed though, that the others in the group were looking at
him with as much anger as the woman was. The man wasn’t too popular.

Huhn,
for all its fuzziness, it had good detail, for a photo taken at a distance and
computer enhanced; it told me some things about what was going on. I just
didn't know what the problem was, in the scene, to make a connection with
anything important to me.

Glancing
at Eisenhawk I said, "Nice looking lady. Is she supposed to mean something
to me?"

Tapping
the picture he said, "Her name is Yasmine. She's been showing up in
surveillance pictures since early February. I can't tell you much, but I can
tell you the men she's been meeting are the type you wouldn't want in our
country."

I
stared at him.

It
took me a couple tries to speak up then I said, "You mean like the ones
who blew up Main Street? You're seriously asking me about it, why?"

Eisenhawk
sighed, "I'm asking if you saw her at any point, prior to the bombing. You
seem to have a connection to all this. The public, as a friend of Alex Shaw,
knows you. And while your reputation might not be the best, it does bring up
the possibility that someone may want to recruit you to her cause.

"Gods,
no way, man! Are you kidding me?" I yelled in shock.

I
was getting tired of the cloak and dagger stuff. He was in a high government
position, yet he was acting like a Game Master in a role-playing game, acting
all mysterious about a secret dungeon! I was beginning to expect someone to
show up with dice and a homemade map of some underground lair to raid.

Eisenhawk
made a gesture to calm Dobrowski as the agent looked in. Eisenhawk glanced over
at him and shook his head to keep him from coming in. The big FBI agent closed
the door, and the scientist looked back to me. I tried to calm down; being
freaked out wasn’t going to solve any problems. But seriously, had he really
thought I could be a potential terrorist?

He
said, "I'm sorry, Mr. Hagen. But it's possible that she was behind the car
bombings. I shouldn't be telling you this, but I feel you should know that you
might be a target. I’m certain she is one of the Empowered."

I
said, "Then arrest her! If she's some crazed cult leader, then take her
out before she causes more deaths!"

Eisenhawk
leaned forward with his elbows on the table. The picture sat between us as he
watched me with tense looking eyes. I just stared back at him, and then at the
picture.

Finally,
he said, "This situation concerns more than just Alex, Mr. Hagen. And
while I’m certain Dana is not in danger, many consider her a good friend of the
Avatar, after all. You, on the other hand, do have a rather hard—if
undeserved—reputation as a betrayer towards the public's belief about the
Avatar."

I
sighed. "Fine, look for these idiots, arrest them. Then I'm sure I'll feel
safe, with just the Avatar nuts in town. Is there anything else?"

Eisenhawk
looked at me and sighed. "You don't understand, Vaughn. This isn't about
Alex or people’s belief about him as the Avatar. Nor is this about the
existence of some cult. Vaughn, these people believe that they have supernormal
abilities."

I
froze and stared at him.
Lies, truth, prevarications.
I wasn’t sure what I should say.
If I told him…
But if he knew something, and I didn't tell him…
Crap. I
pushed down the panic and did the only thing that made sense.

I
laughed in his face.

Then
I said, "You're delusional! Or they are!"

He
winced, but merely said, "I assure you, we’re quite aware that superhuman
beings do not—and cannot—exist in real life. We have heard the rumors about the
appearances of enhanced beings since the rise of the Avatar. But, contrary to
public opinions, the appearance of the Avatar was one-time event.”

I
blinked. Had I just heard a jump in his heartbeat? Had he just lied to me? I
met his eyes and said, “Or that's the story you’re telling people.”

He
flinched, and there was a moment of dead air between us. Eisenhawk gave me a
flat look as he closed the folder and put it away. He didn't bring out anything
else, but before he could say anything more, I decided to push a little.

I
said, "You know what? I think you want the Empowered to be real. That way,
you can use them as a resource. I mean, after all, if there is one thing Alex
confirmed, it's that psychic powers are real.”

I
was glad Dana wasn’t there. She'd hit the ceiling if she heard me saying this.
But I really needed to see this guy's reaction. I had good judgment if people’s
body language. And the funny thing was I got to him. I knew I had. His eyes had
narrowed, he had tensed, and I could hear his heartbeat beating far faster than
normal for a few seconds before he got it under control.

Eisenhawk
said, "The government isn't in the habit of using people like resources, Vaughn.
I believe you’ve gotten this idea that the government is the bad guy from
television shows and Internet conspiracy nuts."

He
had a point. But before I could say anything about it, he held up his hand and
said, "As for the reality of psychic abilities, I'm sorry, Vaughn, but the
Avatar was a
one time
event.”

“Alex
Shaw, out of seven billion people, is the only person in history to have
documented superhuman abilities. If such abilities existed in scores of people,
don't you think they would have appeared on the Day? But it was just Alex
Shaw."

Closing
the valise, he continued, "Do such abilities exist? Clearly, they do. But
even the most liberal of neurologists put such talents as ESP and telekinesis
into the category of being chance events, perhaps once in a lifetime flash that
never happens again."

He
met my eyes as he said, "Literally, the odds of such an event are pretty
much one in seven billion. Would the people of Earth like to have seen more? Of
course, they would. But that's never going to happen.
At
least not in our life-times.”

Eisenhawk
looked at me with a strange, sad expression for a moment before he went on.

He
said, “Vaughn, I would urge you to see reality as it is and move on with your
life. I've read the file the FBI psychologists have on you. I asked them to
profile you, just to be certain you wouldn’t turn into a pro-Avatar fanatic. A
fanatic who believed humans could have such abilities. Allow me give you a bit
of advice. You should consider other things beyond the fantasy of superheroes
and comic books. Travel and see the world, Vaughn—you’re too smart for the
provincial small-town attitude that you’ve shown."

Wow…so
much for cooperation. I just stared at him for a moment before I said, "Sorry,
I can't help you any further, Dr. Eisenhawk. I told the FBI exactly what
happened. I have to go now. I have real things to do. Bye, now.”

Before
I could move, Eisenhawk reached over, grabbed my hand, and looked at me—and I
mean he 
looked
 at me, 
hard
. It felt as though
pressure was building up behind my eyes. It reminded me of what had happened
with Kular on my birthday. Just as it had happened then, the same thing
happened again; I suddenly had Angela in my head. The memory of her walking up
to Brand and me at the memorial replayed in my mind’s eye.

Letting
go of my hand, Eisenhawk asked, "Who is Paradoxis?"

I
could only give him a blank look.
"Who is…what?"

He
said, "There's a figure
who
has been in the Third
Tier chat rooms on the Internet. She's a phad ghost, and she calls herself
Paradoxis. The woman is a shadow. No details exist about her beyond what
’s been seen
on the Internet. I suspect she's the one who
created the cult of the Empowered. She
's connected
to
several messages in the blogosphere about them. Do you know of her?"

I
shook my head. "Dude, what the hell are you talking about?"

That
was completely unexpected! Third Tier chat rooms were just some experiment by a
new company called ViaSoft. They were taking advantage of the phad's more advanced
potential for virtual reality. Brand tried a limited-time use of the Third Tier
that had come with his phad’s pre-installed programs.

He
said it reminded him of the Internet world called Second Life. But in this
case, it added
earpods
and virtual reality glasses.
Unfortunately, that stuff was still too expensive for me. And since I’d never
had gone on it, this bureaucrat was just wasting time. But it wasn't as though
I could just get up and leave.

Wait…Paradoxis.
As in…P. Doxis?
Whoa…okay, we had a connection. But I
had no idea what it was. I definitely had to get out of there. The way he was
throwing questions at me made me wonder just what he knew about powers, about
me, and about… I looked at him.