Infiltration (28 page)

There was bloodlust in the Diabolist’s eyes as he jumped to his feet, shouting, “And you would do well to remember who has the power here now — who holds the reins of your secret weapon!”

As he spoke, a purple glow — apparently emanating from his staff — surrounded him. The White Wyrm growled low in his throat; Gorgon Son and Retread Fred stepped back as it looked like their two leaders were about to come to blows.

While I watched these events unfold, my mind was racing, focusing on what the Diabolist had just said. He had mentioned their secret weapon — the one I had yet to find, the source of the power he now wielded. I suddenly had my own spark of intuition with respect to finding it.

“Thanks for the job offer,” I said, popping around the room again as I spoke, distracting the White Worm and Diabolist Mage before they engaged each other. “Since it’s for a management position, I’m sure you’d like to review my bona fides. Here’s a copy of my résumé.”

I pulled a grenade from the belt that I still carried over my shoulder. I yanked the pin out, made the grenade visible, and then dropped it on the floor between the White Wyrm and Diabolist Mage. Their reactions were immediate.

The Diabolist cracked the end of his staff on the floor, and a purple bubble formed around him. Gorgon Son spun around, gripped a weapons locker that was behind him, then lifted it bodily and slammed it on the ground between him and the grenade. In a similar vein, the White Wyrm stepped behind Retread Fred, obviously intending to use the rubberized villain as a shield. A moment later, the grenade went off.

The blast in the enclosed space was deafening and blew both shelving and various items to the other side of the room. Shrapnel flew in all directions; none, however, seemed to penetrate the bubble around the Diabolist. Likewise, the weapons locker seemed to protect Gorgon Son, although the force of the blast pushed both him and the locker back into the wall. Both Retread Fred and the White Wyrm were lifted off their feet, with the former eventually landing on top of the latter. That said, neither seemed to have suffered any real harm.

The White Wyrm shoved Retread Fred off him and was just getting to his feet when I dropped a smoke grenade. There was an audible hiss as white smoke gushed forth, filling the room. Watching them in infrared, I assumed from the way my four adversaries were waving their arms in an effort to clear the smoke that none of them could see anything. (And from the way they were coughing, they could probably barely breathe.) Now was the time for the bold part of my plan.

“Now I’ll just drop a few more grenades to destroy the weapons here,” I said, floating above the smoke, “then I’m off to take your secret weapon offline.”

I dropped another smoke grenade — just to be sure no one but me could see anything — then teleported Retread Fred to the Great Hall. Following that, I dropped to the floor, simultaneously becoming substantial again and shapeshifting into a twin of Retread Fred. The bodysuit I was wearing suddenly became excessively tight and constrictive compared to a few seconds earlier, but I could deal with it. A moment later, smoke filled my lungs and I was coughing along with the rest of them.

“Diabolist!” I said, genuinely wheezing, “you have to get us to the weapon before
he
gets there!”

Diabolist Mage nodded, acknowledging the truth of what I’d said, although he surely had no idea who had spoken. He waved his staff in a circle and the smoke pushed out away from us, as if blown by a stiff breeze. We could all now see one another (not to mention breathe again). The Diabolist eyed each of us for a moment, then tapped his staff on the ground.

We vanished.

Chapter 35

We reappeared, seemingly moments later, in a spacious workroom that reminded me greatly of Mouse’s lab. There was lots of complex machinery around, as well as numerous worktables covered with an assortment of papers, gadgets, and gizmos. The place even had its own mad scientist in the form of Grain Brain, who was diligently studying the readout from some piece of equipment.

“Grain Brain,” the White Wyrm said, getting the scientist’s attention, “we’re about to have company.”

Grain Brain nodded, and the White Wyrm approached him, apparently giving him the details of the presumably impending attack.

I looked around, desperately seeking the secret weapon, the source of the Diabolist’s power. After a cursory glance, nothing immediately stood out to me. I took a deep breath and slowly looked around again, taking a few steps around the room as I did so. This time, something caught my eye.

Almost dead center in the middle of the room was a gilded, coffin-like metal box. It rose up to a height of about four feet, and was covered with intricate designs and adorned with numerous precious and semi-precious stones. Jutting out from the box on both sides were several of the same opaque tubes I had seen connected to the matter transfer equipment.

That had to be it — the magical object that these guys were using. I had only missed seeing it at first because it had been obscured by one of the worktables. The next moment, I received confirmation as Diabolist Mage — accompanied by Gorgon Son — approached the box and pointed his staff at it.

A glowing strand, like a wire alive with electricity, seemed to reach out from the box and latch onto the staff. In fact, that’s almost exactly what it was, as the wire appeared to transfer some kind of essence along its length from the box into the staff — and ultimately into Diabolist Mage. Even as I watched, the magician seemed to grow in stature, the power he was receiving becoming almost a presence on its own.

Empathically, I sensed the Diabolist feeling flush with power, invincible. Hegemony was taking hold in his mind as an inherent right that he possessed, and he exuded a wicked desire to establish dominion over the whole world — and crush anyone who stood in his way. In essence, the power he now wielded was driving him mad.

I checked my inventory, noting that I still had Imo’s mace and the grenade belt looped over my shoulder. It might have seemed odd that no one had taken note of it, but — as I mentioned before — most people only look at the face when trying to identify someone.

I sidled closer, trying to casually narrow the gap between myself and the ornate box, as if I wanted a better view of it. As I closed the distance, I nonchalantly pulled a grenade from the belt. I gripped it in my palm, and then let my hand fall to my side in a natural manner. Whatever this thing was giving the Diabolist power, we were about to find out if it could survive being at the blast epicenter of an exploding grenade.

I took another step towards the box, at which point I noticed that it actually had a glass top, meaning that whatever was inside could actually be seen. Before I could get any closer, however, Gorgon Son turned in my direction. He held up his hand and shook his head in a do-not-approach gesture as Diabolist Mage continued gaining power. A second later, the weird strand withdrew from the staff and returned to the box. Gorgon Son rushed to the Diabolist, who appeared on the verge of collapse, and helped steady him.

With everyone evidently ignoring me, I took advantage of the opportunity and quickly stepped over to the box. I casually drew the pin out of the grenade, preparing to leave it on the glass top when I glanced inside and caught my breath. There was a man in there.

Looking at the man lying in the box, I suddenly realized that we were in far greater danger than we knew. Mouse had basically been banking on Rune bailing us out since this was a situation involving the mystical. However, it was clear to me now that we couldn’t call on Rune to defeat these particular enemies.

Rune couldn’t defeat their magic. Rune
was
their magic.

The man in the box was Rune.

Chapter 36

I stared at Rune, practically in shock for a few seconds, thinking that it couldn’t be. It was definitely him, though; every square inch of uncovered skin sported weird symbols and designs. Moreover, the symbols moved — something that generally gave people the creeps and made Rune one of the less-popular supers (not that he cared about that kind of thing).

He was clearly the source of power that the bad guys had been referring to. Somehow, Diabolist Mage had found a way to siphon off Rune’s magic and use it as his own.

As to Rune himself, I had trouble concluding that he was actually alive; dressed in nothing but a loincloth, he didn’t even appear to be breathing. However, as I’d already noted, the graphics on his skin still moved, leading me to believe that there was life in there somewhere. Even if there wasn’t, I didn’t think there was any way I could blow up the box now.

Speaking of blowing things up, I found that I was still holding the grenade. Thankfully, I hadn’t released the safety handle yet, but I didn’t fancy the idea of teleporting it back home with me and Rune, which had suddenly become the new plan.

Now it was my turn to try to put a pin back in a grenade. I had dropped it while walking over to the box, so it had to be—

“Hey!” Diabolist Mage shouted in my direction. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”

“Well, uh, I, uh,” I began. Before I could get anything else out, Gorgon Son’s eyes seemed to go wide. His line of sight went from the grenade to the belt around my shoulders, back to the grenade again, and then finally to my face. (I blatantly avoided looking him in the eyes this time.)

“That’s not Fred!” Gorgon Son shouted, pointing at me.

The White Wyrm and Grain Brain suddenly looked in my direction. Gorgon Son looked like he was about to charge, and I saw the Diabolist leaning his staff towards me.

I threw the grenade towards the White Wyrm and Grain Brain; they both dove for cover, scrambling to get behind some computer equipment. I phased myself and the box containing Rune as Gorgon Son dove at me. He passed through without making contact with anything and smacked his head on a worktable that was behind me.

The Diabolist shot a beam of purple light at me, but it passed right through me again. This time, however, I felt something — like the beam had tickled me a little. It occurred to me then that maybe Diabolist Mage had gotten enough power to somehow affect me in my insubstantial form. It was not a prospect I relished.

At that moment, the grenade went off, blasting a hole in the floor and sending shrapnel and shards of stone flying everywhere. Something grazed the Diabolist just beneath the eye, making him jerk his head to the side in pain. When he looked my way again, I saw a jagged red line near his cheekbone that was already starting to weep blood.

The Diabolist gingerly put a finger to his cheek, flinching when he touched the wound. He looked at me with murder in his eyes. Near the computer equipment they had hidden behind, the White Wyrm and Grain Brain were just getting to their feet, as was Gorgon Son. They, too, all looked as though they’d like to bite my eyeballs out. Obviously, I had overstayed my welcome.

No longer needing to pretend to be someone else, I shapeshifted back to my own face and body.

“Toodles,” I said, holding up a hand and giving a little finger wave.

I wrapped Rune, box and all, in my power and tried to teleport us to Mouse’s lab.

Nothing happened.

Chapter 37

Once, when I was very young and had just developed my teleportation power, I tried to teleport into a picture I saw in a book. It was one of those impossibly happy scenes, with cherubic kids running around and having loads of fun at a state fair or something like that. Of course, it didn’t work because that place didn’t actually exist. Every time I tried to go there, it was as though there was a blank spot in my mind where I should have pictured a destination.

The same thing happened when I tried to teleport myself and Rune. I felt a nothingness in mind, a sort of null-and-void insinuation with respect to where I tried to take us. First it was Mouse’s lab. Then anywhere at Alpha League HQ. Then anywhere other than this castle. It was as if none of those places were there any more — like someone had hit some sort of universal “Delete” button with respect to them.

“Trouble, teleporter?” Diabolist Mage asked with an evil leer. “I think you’ll find that there’s nowhere to go. My power warps reality, changes it to suit my whims. At the moment, we’re outside of all space and time. Nothing exists outside these castle walls. In fact” — his eyes started to glow with purple light as he performed some new deviltry — “as far as we’re concerned, nothing else exists beyond this room.”

It was a little difficult for me to process what he was saying, but I didn’t doubt the truth of his words. Nothing else really made sense, and my own failure to teleport confirmed it. Moreover, I suddenly had a sort of clarity with respect to my previous inability to phase beyond the castle’s outer walls. I couldn’t phase all the way through those walls because there was no place on the other side of them to phase
to
. (I also had a sudden suspicion as to why no one outside the castle was in range of my telepathy.)

Furthermore, if the Diabolist were to be believed, my universe had literally shrunk even further and was now nothing more than this room.

It was a lot to wrap my head around, but I didn’t really have time to dwell on it. I was trapped in here with an unconscious (possibly comatose or nearly-dead) ally, and four vicious supervillains. Figuring out all of the minor details would have to wait.