Final Empire (25 page)

We sat on a leather couch, plates stacked with steaming pepperoni pizza resting in our laps. A soccer game blared from the holo-screen, and the growing number of spectators began to pack the room. A Scottish computer scientist laughed when she heard me use the word ‘soccer’ to describe what was clearly ‘football’, eliciting a giggle-fit from Brynja. When South Korea scored the first goal against Australia, half the room belted out a roar of approval, while the other half booed, tossing chips and popcorn at their friendly rivals.

While the players on-screen were still celebrating their goal, the broadcast blipped off. It was replaced with a satellite image of a rocky shoreline.

“This is a breaking story out of the United States,” the newscaster announced in her cultivated Australian accent. “The Department of Justice has a lead on some missing persons who have disappeared from American soil almost three months ago. According to facial recognition software, nineteen-year-old Boston native Janice West is believed to be the individual seen here. If you’re a sensitive viewer, you may want to look away.”

The camera zoomed to an ash-white body, face-up, lying in a shallow inlet. Her auburn hair floated around her face, the clear water shot through with crimson. A more magnified close-up showed a wound. Her head, cracked like an egg; ragged skin split over shattered skull. And a wooden club floating at her side, bobbing into her shoulder with every roll of the tide, like a boat in a marina slip that someone had neglected to tie off.

The room buzzed with conversation and shocked gasps, but the white noise silenced when I read the words that rolled by on the screen.

‘The Kerguelen Islands’.

“What is this shit?!”
I shouted into my com, even before Detective Dzobiak’s image had materialized over my wrist. I was trying to steady my trembling arm as I hurried through the hallways, weaving my way back towards my room.

“Whoa, hold up, man,” he said defensively. “this had
nothing
to do with me.”

“How did the media get a hold of this footage?”

“We made a breakthrough with a satellite,” Dzobiak explained. “Right after we finished talking. I got a shot of the outer edges of the island. A couple minutes of scanning and we IDed the floater.”

“So why is it on the simulcasts
already?”
I shot back.

Dzobiak sprang from his creaky office chair and moved towards his door, clicking it shut before continuing in a hushed voice. “Look, I told them to hold off on going public until we could figure out what was what, but did you see the victim’s name? I couldn’t stop them. This went
way
over my head and several million dollars over my pay grade.”

The surname and the hometown of the victim seemed innocuous enough, but coupled with the urgency that this was broadcast to the world it suddenly snapped into focus: Janice West, from Boston. “West…” I said cautiously, “as in, Republican Senator Madelyn West, from Massachusetts?”

“That’s the one,” he confirmed with a small nod, eyes darting away. “Single mom, too. And Janice was her only daughter.”

It was all making sense. “Holy shit,” I whispered. I’d stopped rushing down the hallway. My feet, seemingly of their own volition, refused to keep carrying me, and I’d fallen back against the wall.

“No
shit
,” he said, eyebrows raised. “‘Holy shit’ is right. The senator’s baby girl washed up on the shore of the island – your boy Kenneth’s island. I’m out of the loop on this one, but word around the water cooler is that she’s already talking to the president of France. She wants boots on the ground, pretty much yesterday.”

“I don’t know what the reaction from the natives will be,” I said.

“I thought you said it was Woodstock down there?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty much a love-in, but Kenneth…you didn’t see what he did to Darmaki. If he feels threatened, and America escalates things…”

The detective’s voice deepened and his gaze intensified; I suddenly felt as if I were back in New York being questioned in a tiny windowless room. “Hey, if he popped Senator West’s girl,
he’s
the one who escalated shit, man. He’s gonna end up with the world’s most powerful military firing rockets up his costumed ass.”

“A lot of people could die if that happens,” I warned him.

“Look around. People are
dying already, Mox.”

“Let me go back and talk to him,” I pleaded. “I know something weird is going on but this doesn’t seem like Kenneth’s style. I can’t believe he was responsible for a murder. It could’ve been one of his followers killing another one.”

“The ‘blissed out’ followers?” he asked, his words dripping with sarcasm.

“I don’t know,” I admitted weakly. And I didn’t. I was reaching, grasping for straws. I had no idea who would dump a body on the shore of Kenneth’s island – but I couldn’t believe it was him, or that he had anything to do with it.

Dzobiak opened his palms, pitching back in his chair. “Like I said, Mox, it’s out of my hands. The wheels are in motion and there isn’t much time to work with. Whatever you’re going to do, you’d better do it fast…and get out of there before America arrives on his front porch. They’re not big on knocking, in case you haven’t heard.”

My mind blistered with a million scenarios – ways to diffuse the situation without any need for further bloodshed. Whatever happens on that island could be resolved diplomatically, and there had to be a more rational way to bring the killer to justice. “What if you had
proof
that it wasn’t Kenneth?” I snapped. “What if you came with me to a neutral location – got confirmation right from him? Would that help calm things down?”

He shook his head, unconvinced. “Yeah, I mean,
if
he cooperated – if he helped turn in the person responsible and we secured a confession, then I
might
be able to stop a full-on assault on the island. But like I said, this would have to happen now.” He glanced down at his watch. “I’m talking
now.
And unless I show up back here with some rock-solid, concrete evidence, and someone in cuffs…”

“We’ll figure it out,” I assured him, now breaking into a sprint towards my room. “We always do.”

I was on my way back to the common room when Brynja rounded the corner in a full sprint herself
, colliding with me in mid-stride. Our chests slammed together and it knocked the wind out of both of us. She stumbled a step, regaining her footing.

“Whoa!” I shouted. “Are you okay? I was just coming to get you, there’s an emerg—”

“I know,” she cut in, breathless, clutching her chest. “I heard you.”

“From the common room?” I asked. Damn, the acoustics in this fortress were even better than I thought.

She pointed towards her forehead with both fingers. “Still with the mind reading,” she huffed. “Remember?”

I let out a frustrated groan, balling my fists. “I told you to
stop
that shit, Brynja!” I actually stomped my foot a little when I said her name, like a toddler demanding a juice box.

“And I told
you
to stop thinking so fucking loud – but this argument can probably wait, no?”

I took a deep breath, steadying my voice, trying to behave more like an adult. “I know this sounds crazy, but we need—”

“I
know
what you need,” she interrupted again. “I know we need to get to Kenneth, and I know we need to talk to him…and I know why you want me there.”

“Damn, you read
all
of that?”

She shrugged. “Like I said, you’re a loud thinker. When you’re stressed it’s like I’m wearing a pair of headphones, and I’m listening to a playlist of all the anxieties running through your mind. Believe me, it’s not a lot of fun being inside your screwed up brain.”

“Okay, okay,” I replied, my patience wearing thin. “So you’re okay with the plan?”

She nodded firmly, her lips pressing into a thin line – though her eyes overflowed with consternation. I wasn’t sure whether she was apprehensive about confronting Kenneth, or if she was afraid he might have been responsible for what we’d seen on the news. She’s had the utmost confidence in him from the moment they first met, and she’d never been given a reason to doubt him until now.

“Look, there might be another way,” I assured her.

“There isn’t,” she said plainly. “Don’t bullshit me, Mox. You know there’s only one way to do this. And we both know we can’t go to his island. It’s too dangerous.”

“We’re not.” I started back down the hall and she followed close behind. “There’s only one safe place to meet Kenneth…I just don’t know how much he’s going to trust us once he arrives there.”

Brynja, Detective Dzobiak and I stood shivering, knee deep in snow on the frigid platform.
Within a minute our cheeks had been stung red from the wind, lips chapped, eyelashes tipped with frost.

The entire journey had taken only a couple of minutes. It was jarring, to put it mildly. Using the TT-100, Karin teleported us from the sweltering temperatures that choked the South China Sea to the wind-chilled rooftop of Dzobiak’s office building in Manhattan, and then over to central Europe in the blink of an eye. Two jumps in such a short time frame left my stomach in knots, head spinning, knees like jelly. My travel companions weren’t faring much better.

I moved to the edge of the platform, where a string of red lights blinked relentlessly through the snow indicating the outer edge (there wasn’t a railing). I peered down at Lake Lucerne, which looked like a sparkling amethyst several thousand feet below. It was one of the country’s most breathtaking sights. If the wind hadn’t been slicing through my jacket, and if I’d been smart enough to wear a hat and gloves, I might’ve taken the time to appreciate the view. Now, all I could focus on was the irritating fact that Fortress 13 – possibly the most critical of all Cameron Frost’s technological hubs – was built into a perpetually frozen chunk of rock that overlooked Switzerland.

“Are you sure this voodoo is gonna work?” Dzobiak asked, teeth chattering. He was squinting against the glare of the unobstructed midday sun, hand cupped over his eyes. He wore an overcoat on top of his black suit, but it was designed more for fashion than practicality.

“We’re gonna find out,” I replied.

Brynja tugged the sleeve of her puffy winter jacket away from her wrist, revealing the skin below. She pulled a small knife from her coat pocket and pressed the tip into her flesh. Biting down on her lip, she dragged the blade until a drop of sparkling blue liquid surfaced, trickling down towards her palm and rolling along her finger tip.

“Wait,” I shouted, reaching out to her. “That’s your radial artery – you don’t want pull the blade
up
your arm. That’s how people commit suicide.”

She crinkled her nose. “I though there had to be a lot of blood?”

“Yeah, we need enough to send out the signal, but I don’t want you drained. Pull across, from side to side.”

With a deep breath she repositioned the blade and forced her eyes shut. She pulled. It opened a gash that poured like a broken faucet. The alien blue substance that had the same consistency of blood flowed from her vein, down her hand, and melted into the fresh powder at her feet. The warm plasma hissed as it disappeared into the snow, producing tiny plumes of steam.

I pulled a length of sterilized cotton from my jacket, wrapping it several times around her wound. I held firm, sensing the heat rising from beneath the bandage. I could feel energy pulsing from her, as if the wound was already mending.

“You think that was enough?” Brynja asked, peering skyward.

Dzobiak pointed a gloved finger out over the horizon. “Unless that’s the world’s fastest blue jay, then yeah, I’d say it worked.”

From the south he’d spotted a glistening blue light that was cutting through the sky, blistering towards us. A flash followed, like the lightning strike that had blinded us in the desert. Then the platform quaked with an aftershock, and a burst of snow rose around us in a thin cloud. By the time I’d blinked the streaks from my eyes and rubbed away the sting, Kenneth had arrived. Valeriya stood at one shoulder, Jonathan Ma at his other – the same person who had nearly killed us at Darmaki’s palace, until Peyton sent a bullet into his shoulder. Apparently Kenneth was now in the business of recruiting superhumans in addition to his groupies.

They were a few hundred feet down the tarmac, marching towards us. As they approached Ma vibrated. He moved like a blur, and then seemed to split in two. It was so sudden I couldn’t tell which was him and which was his copy. Then he did it again, and again, and again after that, each time faster than the time before, until it seemed as if copies were simply materializing from thin air. In a heartbeat there were ten of him, walking lockstep with Kenneth and Valeriya.

Dzobiak threw open his overcoat and reached for his hip where his sidearm was holstered. I lunged out and snatched his wrist, shaking my head.

He froze. We made eye contact and a tense moment ticked by. He inhaled and nodded tentatively, pulling his hand away as I lightened my grip.

I lifted my wrist to chin-level, jerking my sleeve away from my com. “Activate,” I commanded. The red lights that surrounded the vast metallic platform blinked off, replaced by a sparkling green. A siren wailed, warning that the device had been activated.

As suddenly as they’d appeared, Jonathan Ma’s leather-clad clones exploded into piles of shattered crystal, disappearing into the snow. His jaw fell slack, staring down at what remained of his creations.

Kenneth stopped mid-step. “You summoned me for
this
?” he shouted, folding his arms across his chest. His cape flapped wildly in the wind, gusting behind him. “You couldn’t find a local superhuman to test your device on?” Valeriya stood fast at his side, eyes as cold as the mountain top. She wore only a white dress and a thin wool sweater, but if she’d been bothered by the sub-zero temperatures, she wasn’t showing it.

“I came to talk,” I yelled back, making my way towards him. Brynja and Dzobiak followed a step behind.

“This is one of your fortresses. The ones you acquired from the Frost Corporation.”

“Good guess.”

He stared intensely at the ground below, as if he could see straight through the three-meter steel platform and down into the belly of the hollowed-out mountain top, directly into the reactor core that powered the world’s largest cerebral dampening unit. His powers seemed to be expanding exponentially – for all I knew, he could.

“The CDU that’s beneath us,” he said, tilting his chin upward, “it must be an impressive device to dampen even
my
abilities.”

“Just keeping everyone honest,” I replied flatly. “With it activated, you know that Brynja isn’t reading your mind, and we know…”

“What?” he said. “That I won’t slice you into pieces?”

“Like you did to Janice?” Dzobiak cut in. His hand was poised at his hip, fingers trembling with nerves like a gun slinger in the old west, prepared to draw.

“Who’s your jumpy friend?” Kenneth asked, his eyes flicking towards the detective.

“Detective Todd Dzobiak, New York PD,” he stated, “and the only reason you’re not in cuffs is because of this man right here, so you should choose your next words pretty goddamned carefully.”

The darkness I’d seen earlier began to once again gather behind Kenneth’s eyes, though his face remained stoic. “I know Janice West,” he said coolly. “What happened to her?” He asked as if he really didn’t know, and simultaneously didn’t care.

The detective’s fingertips brushed the grip of his pistol, but he left it holstered. “Maybe the satellite reception inside your pyramid is on the fritz, Ken, but it’s all over the simulcasts. Janice’s body is floating on the shore of
your
island. Someone whacked her.”

Kenneth raised his eyebrows, though he didn’t appear overly surprised. “That is a tragic loss of life,” he replied. “Though I fail to see how this is any of my business.”

“Uh-huh. Well you’d better
make
it your business, because if I don’t bring evidence back to the Justice Department in the next thirty minutes, we’re coming for your ass.”

“She was a non-believer,” Valeriya shouted. “The others were…unhappy with her lack of faith.”

“One of your followers
executed
that poor girl?” Brynja asked, clasping her hands over her mouth. “How could you give them an order like that?”

When the horrified words spilled from Brynja mouth, Kenneth’s demeanor softened, and a flicker of his former self glimmered from beneath the veneer he’d created. It was the same kid who’d asked for my autograph just a year and a half ago – the stammering fanboy who I’d shared a couch with, flinging potato chips into each other’s mouths and sharing stories from our pasts. He seemed wounded,
as if Brynja had dealt him a crushing blow with the pain in her eyes.

“It’s not…I would never do that,” he said, steeling his resolve. “Brynja, you can’t believe I’d ever ask someone to execute—”

“He owes you
no
explanation,” Valeriya cut in. “One of The Living Eye’s followers must have been responsible. They are the one you seek.”

“Well that’s a pretty big problem,” Dzobiak stated matter-of-factly. “You see if there’s a murderer running around that island, and if you can’t turn them over, we’re going to have to come in and find them ourselves. And you’re gonna have to answer a couple questions.”

Kenneth didn’t blink. He shook his head defiantly, staring a hole through the detective.

“Kenneth,” I added, as gently as I could manage, “come on, man. You have to know
something
. There are only a couple hundred people on that island, and they’re all there because of you. Help out now, before things get worse.”

“How
dare you,
” Valeriya shouted in my general direction before turning her attention towards Kenneth. She jutted her finger towards me and stomped her tiny foot into the snow. “You cannot allow a mortal
to speak to you in this manner. What if your followers were here, listening to this blasphemy?”

“Blasphemy?” Brynja asked, her face contorting into a mask of confusion. “What the freaking hell is
that
supposed to mean?”

Valeriya spun around. “It means that The Living Eye is above people like Matthew Moxon and this detective. He has been gifted powers like my brother before him.”

Kenneth glanced down at Valeriya and then at Ma, who was staring at him expectantly. “I offer my people inspiration and guidance,” he said, straightening his back, rolling his shoulders. “Nothing more. If they kill in my name, so be it. Their reasons are their own.”

The detective snatched the gun with a practiced flick of his wrist, aiming it at Kenneth’s head. “I’ve heard about enough of this. Kenneth Livitski, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used—”

“
Todd
, don’t do this, man.” I stepped towards him and he stiff-armed me, jamming his palm into my chest.

“This is police business now, Mox. I need to bring this sack of shit in for questioning. He just gave me probable cause.” Dzobiak reached behind his back and produced a pair of cuffs with his free hand. He pressed forward, approaching with caution.

Kenneth jutted his hands out in front of him, wrists close together. “Be my guest, detective. I’d like to see you try.”

“TODD,” I shouted, stepping in front of him. “You’re not thinking this through: he’s only dampened because we’re standing above a CDU. The second we all board my jet and lift off he’s back at full power. Kenneth could tear his way out of the aircraft and fly back to his island, leaving us all very, very dead.”

Kenneth nodded in agreement, lifting his shoulders into a lazy shrug. “They don’t call him a genius for nothing, you know.”

Dzobiak kept his gun aimed squarely at my head, with Kenneth standing behind. He was aiming right through me. “Well then we’re at a stalemate, because I can’t let this guy go.”

“You can, and you will,” Kenneth said with complete and total confidence. He delivered the news with such towering bravado that it caused Valeriya’s lips to purse, curling into an arrogant smirk. “You are going to put away that toy of yours, Mox will turn off his dampener, and I’m taking my people back to my island. And
no
one
is going to bother me. I see a single American flag enter my airspace…”

“
Say it,
” Dzobiak threatened, shoving me aside. This time I toppled over, landing painfully on my ass. “Give me a reason, Ken. I’ll put a bullet right through your stupid fucking eye.” He lowered the barrel towards the emblem on The Living Eye’s chest; the bright blue logo that crackled with energy, as if it were powered by an unseen power source.

Kenneth’s eyes flicked to his chest and back to the detective. “If your people come to my island – and have no delusions, it is
my
island – I will not be responsible for what happens to them. Your army is more than welcome to try, Detective Dzobiak. You all know where to find me.” He took a step towards the detective until they were just a few feet apart, the barrel nearly poking Kenneth in the sternum. “Now holster your weapon, unless you plan on becoming a murderer yourself.”

Dzobiak’s finger trembled and his eye twitched. He let out a long breath, a puff of warm mist forming as he exhaled. Then he stepped back, slamming the weapon back in its holster.

“That is what I thought,” Valeriya gloated. “Americans, all alike. Barking dogs, bearing their teeth…but once you discipline them, they come to heel.”

The detective gritted his teeth. “Keep talking, assholes.”

Dzobiak turned and wandered to the back edge of the platform, and Brynja came to my side. “How could you do this?” she asked Kenneth. “How could you listen to this little psychopath?”