Infiltration (21 page)

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Supervillains are always trying to come up with new weapons to hurt AP,” Mouse said. “You know that, right?”

“Yeah,” I said. “And they always fail.”

“Eh, somewhat,” Mouse said. “The truth is, they don’t fully understand that one of your father’s strengths is that his body is always adapting. For instance, you said that when those guys showed up at the overpass, they shot AP with something like a laser.”

I nodded. “It was something like a laser light, yeah. It came from their maces.”

“And the first time they shot him, it seemed to hurt him,” Mouse stated. “But the next time not so much, right?”

“Right,” I answered. “Does that mean something?”

“Yeah,” Mouse said. “After that first shot, your father’s body adapted, became immune so to speak. That’s why after that he wasn’t particularly bothered by that same weapon.”

“Think of it this way,” BT said. “The first time you shoot him with a bullet, it goes into him and causes some damage. The next time you shoot him, maybe it causes a scratch. The third time you shoot him, the bullet doesn’t even break the skin.”

This was news to me. I had simply assumed that my father was invulnerable, plain and simple. I didn’t know that getting hit with new weapons was like getting inoculated to him.

“So, if I understand you,” I said, thinking, “that whole scene at the overpass may have been solely about testing a new weapon against my father?”

“Think about it,” Mouse said. “If any villain threatens this city, this country, this planet — at some point they’re going to have to face Alpha Prime. It would be nice to know ahead of time if you have a weapon that will hurt him.”

“But what about last night, then?” I asked. “Alpha Prime wasn’t part of every response team.”

“No,” Mouse said, “just the first, but they didn’t come after him then. Or any of the response teams. Instead, they attacked this place.”

“Which also didn’t make any sense,” BT said. “They sent in a very weak team — no supers, mind you — to do…what? And then they yank them all back after basically just a few minutes?”

“There’s obviously something here that we’re not seeing,” Mouse said. “Whoever’s behind this has a lot of power, but they seem to be using it wantonly, indiscriminately, without any sense of purpose.”

A new thought occurred to me. “Those guys who attacked here last night. Did you investigate the courtyard where they appeared and disappeared?”

“Yeah,” BT said. “It’s the same story — no evidence of any type of technology we’re familiar with. Apparently it’s something outside of our experience — maybe something more advanced.”

I guffawed. “Well, this is a good joke. You’re two of the biggest brains on the planet, and you can’t figure this out? You mean, there’s someone out there smarter than you two combined?”

Apparently I hit Mouse below the belt with that one, because he smacked his fist on the worktable next to him.

“It’s not that easy!” he exclaimed. “This isn’t like any technology I’ve ever seen, alien or terrestrial. It’s almost like it isn’t science at all. In some ways, it’s actually more like…more like…”

Mouse trailed off, staring into space, obviously thinking intensely. Brow furrowed, he began drumming his fingers on the worktable. After about a minute of this, I couldn’t take it anymore.

“It’s more like what?” I finally asked.

“More like…magic,” Mouse muttered, as if he couldn’t believe what he was saying.

Chapter 26

“Magic?” I repeated.

Instead of responding, Mouse suddenly began typing something on his computer tablet.

“Magic,” said BT, nodding her head. “Of course.”

“You say that like it’s obvious,” I said. “Before Mouse mentioned it, the thought had never occurred to you.”

“It’s not so much that it didn’t occur to me — either of us, in truth — as it was the fact that it was automatically excluded,” BT retorted. “You and Alpha Prime mentioned a bomb with respect to the destruction of the overpass. Ergo, we focused on explosives technology — the material rather than the mystical.”

“Plus, magic typically doesn’t operate like this,” Mouse added, finally looking up from his tablet. “Don’t get me wrong, there’s magic strong enough to cause the kind of damage we’ve experienced, but you rarely ever see this level of destruction. The amount of power required is just too difficult to manipulate.”

“I don’t follow,” I said.

“Think of it like this,” BT said. “Imagine that magic is like a handgun. With proper training, almost anyone can safely handle it, agreed?”

“Sure,” I said.

BT went on. “Now, if someone wants a weapon that’s more powerful than a handgun — say, a mortar or grenade launcher — they’ll need additional training.”

“Gotcha,” I said. “Using our analogy, a magician who wants more power probably needs to study and become even more conversant with magic.”

“Correct,” BT said, “but beyond a certain point, there will be magic that a magician can access but that he won’t be able to control. Using it will be like setting off an atomic bomb — an uncontrolled nuclear chain reaction.”

“So, a magician might be able to drop a magical version of an atomic bomb,” I said, “but once it goes off, he can’t stop it. He can’t control how much damage it causes.”

“In a nutshell,” Mouse said. “But what we’ve seen — especially last night — is a high level of devastation that was held strictly in check geographically. You usually only see that in someone with enhanced abilities, which means they studied magic for a long time. That’s why the most powerful wizards and such tend to be advanced in age.”

“So what does that mean?” I asked. “We’re looking for an octogenarian with a wand?”

“Not necessarily,” BT said. “Just like prodigies in music and such, there are wunderkinds when it comes to mystical abilities. People who show mastery of the metaphysical at an early age.”

“Even counting those, though, there can’t be a lot of people capable of controlling the magical equivalent of a nuclear bomb,” I said.

“There aren’t,” Mouse agreed. “There’s maybe a handful on the entire planet. There’s Rune, of course, but he’s one of us. Gloriana Mano is another.”

“Hand of Glory?” BT said quizzically. “She’s still locked away somewhere in a medically induced coma. If it were her we’d know, because she’d be trying to destroy the world and wouldn’t be shy about it.”

“There are also a couple of guys on other superhero teams,” Mouse said, “but I’m assuming they’re beyond suspicion. After that, the drop-off is pretty steep in terms of ability, and we go to a mid-level tier. There are a bunch of villainous wannabes at that rank — like Mystic Kabbalah and Diabolist Mage, to name a few — but then we’re back to this being more power than those dorks can control.”

“Maybe not,” BT interjected. “Increased magical power usually comes in one of two varieties: lifelong study, or objects of power.”

“So what, you’re thinking that maybe somebody found a charm or something that gives enhanced magical abilities?” I asked.

“It makes sense,” Mouse said. “It wouldn’t be the first time it happened. And these guys are always hunting for a mystical this or a magical that — some trinket or relic that’ll make them the second coming of Merlin.”

“So what if one of them did find something like that?” I asked. “Maybe not the magical equivalent of an atomic bomb, but something a little less powerful — say, an object on par with a mystical rail gun.”

Mouse rubbed his chin for a moment, thinking. “I guess I’d argue that they still have to learn how to use it.”

“Maybe that’s what’s been going on,” I said.

Mouse frowned, thinking, then shot a look at BT that was so intense that you’d have thought there was some sort of mental communication between them.

“It makes sense,” BT said a few seconds later. “Someone found a new toy and is figuring out how it works.”

“That would explain a lot,” Mouse said. “Maybe it wasn’t just using the maces on Alpha Prime that was a test. Maybe it’s been everything they’ve done up to now.”

“It would also clarify why they haven’t been making any demands,” BT added. “They’re still figuring out how all the pieces fit together.”

“Okay,” I said, “so they’re not quite licensed to drive yet. What’s our next step — before these guys get comfortable behind the wheel?”

“We don’t have one,” Mouse said. “We’re on ‘pause’ at the moment.”

I was a little befuddled. “You’re kidding, right? We just figured this thing out!”

“Actually, we haven’t figured anything out,” Mouse replied. “All we’ve been doing is talking, and that’s all it is: talk. Speculation, conjecture, and guesswork. We need an expert, which is why I sent a message to Rune.”

I suddenly recalled Mouse typing on his tablet just a few minutes earlier. Apparently he’d sent for the arcane cavalry.

“Okay,” I said. “Is he on his way?”

Mouse shrugged. “Rune’s a bit of a paradox. He’s not the kind of guy you can think of as being ‘on call.’ He kind of does his own thing, although he’s usually there when we need him.”

“In other words,” BT said, “you don’t know where he is.”

“I have certain channels I can use to get a message to him,” Mouse said defensively. “And that’s what I’ve done. But no, I don’t know exactly where he is. He went abroad to check out some hoodoo ritual a few weeks back and I haven’t heard from him since.”

“What do you mean?” I asked in surprise. “Rune’s here.”

Mouse’s bug-eyed expression clearly showed that this was news to him. “You’ve seen him?”

“Yeah, right after we thumped the bad guys in the courtyard,” I said. “Didn’t anyone tell you?”

Mouse shook his head, and then started typing again on his tablet, speaking as his fingers flew furiously. “No, we didn’t really ask for a head count, and since everyone was tired, we didn’t try to get a full debrief. We got the condensed version from Electra and sent everybody home with milk and cookies.”

“Well, there’s not much more to tell,” I said. “Rune apparently popped up while we were fighting, got bopped on the noggin, and asked for someone to help him back to his room.”

Mouse stopped typing for a second and looked up. “Wait a minute. Rune got hurt?”

“Yeah,” I said, “but from what I could see it didn’t look too bad, although it was a head injury.”

“That’s one for the record books,” Mouse said as he went back to typing. “I’ve never seen that guy get so much as a scratch.”

“By the way, how is it that Rune already has a finished room here?” I asked.

“Rune doesn’t require much more than four walls for living space,” Mouse said. “Apparently his magic provides whatever other creature comforts he requires. I had to beg him to let me install drywall and flooring.”

Mouse made a final tap on his tablet with a flourish. “Got him!”

He pointed to one of the large monitors situated nearby, where the screen had changed from displaying data to an image of a wide hallway. Walking down the corridor was Rune, still dressed as I had seen him the night before. In addition, he was carrying a brown satchel slung across his shoulder.

“How’d you find him?” I asked. “Biometric tracking?”

“No, that doesn’t work when it comes to Rune,” Mouse responded. “His magic usually blocks it, so I didn’t even try. I just went with motion sensors.”

Watching him on the screen, I saw Rune walking tentatively and looking around in an odd, scatterbrained manner.

“What’s wrong with him?” I asked. “He looks like he’s lost.”

“You said he took a blow to the head,” BT replied. “Maybe he’s got a concussion.”

I nodded, having received a concussion myself in the not-too-distant past. I could vouch for the fact that it could definitely turn your memory into a block of Swiss cheese.

Mouse sighed as Rune tried a door on one side of the hallway and timidly stuck his head inside when it opened. “It looks like he’s on the third sub-basement level, and I don’t think the PA system is working down there yet. We’re going to have to go get him.”

“Not a problem,” I said, staring at the expanse of hallway on the screen. “I recognize that area; I’ve been down there before. I can pop down and bring him back.”

“Thanks,” Mouse said.

“Don’t mention it,” I said. “Besides, even if the PA system was working, he looks too confused to find his way here.”

I teleported to the hallway where Rune was, appearing behind him. He still had his head in the doorway that I’d seen him peeking into on Mouse’s monitor.

“Excuse me—” I said.

Rune yelped, turning around almost in fright and slamming the door shut. I felt apprehension and anxiety — almost outright panic — pounding through him like white water rapids.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,” I said. “Mouse wants to see you.”

I felt his nerves settling down a bit, but not much.

“Mouse?” he said, questioningly. Then a light bulb seemed to come on. “Oh, Mouse! Yes, of course!”

“Is it okay if we go right now?

“Absolutely,” he said, taking a step towards me. “That’s fi—”