Seven Wonders (22 page)

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Authors: Adam Christopher

BOOK: Seven Wonders
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  Linear pointed at the paused image. The image changed depending on the angle, so each of the Seven Wonders seated around the table saw a slightly different aspect. Overall, the image most showed the interior of a small city bank. There were several people standing around a semicircle, civilians flanked by what looked like soldiers in black combat uniform, faces obscured by respirators. In the center of the image was a blur, one wide black smudge that seemed to taper to sharp points on either side of a more solid center. Next to this, an elongated blue and white translucent smear, almost like a double exposure. The different perspectives around the room showed the same frozen moment, intersected with walls, furniture and other objects that obscured the three-dimensional psychic scan. Bluebell's eyes narrowed and she rose a few inches higher, bending one blue and white spandex-clad leg behind her at the knee as she concentrated. The image shimmered and the focus seemed to sharpen.

  The inference was clear. It was the same man calling himself the Justiciar, the man who had engaged the Cowl in the rooftop battle and, it seemed, got the better of the supervillain.

  "He has superspeed. We know." Aurora's statement sounded final, but Linear shook his head. His body vibrated a little in excitement.

  "No, no, no. It's not just superspeed. He can access the
Slipstream
. Look at the image. This is just when the Slipstream is punched. See that?"

  He pointed to the blue and white smear, tracing a finger along two white threads that were slightly more opaque than the rest of the blurry form. "The Slipstream. Trust me, I see it every day."

  "Observation noted but incorrect. Slipstream access limited to two individuals."

  Everyone's attention moved to SMART. Its creator, Hephaestus, sat up and looked at the white domed head of the robotic superhero. Towering over the others, even when seated, the robot's head rotated, the two rectangular red eyes scanning the faces of everyone in the room, the supercomputer buried deep under the armor plating analyzing all expressions and responses. Hephaestus waited until the robot's head turned to face him before issuing his command.

  "Explain statement."

  Aurora raised a hand, the hazy glow of the plasma that constantly surrounded him catching everyone's attention admirably. "No, SMART's observation is correct but the deduction is false."

  "Exactly!" Linear cocked a finger at Aurora. "Whoever this guy is, he can access the Slipstream. That makes him both dangerous and unusual."

  Bluebell returned to the ground and sat at the conference table, allowing the bank raid recording to continue at normal speed. The black blur and the blue and white smear vanished, then the soldiers apparently lost interest in their hostages and lowered their weapons. A man in a gray suit was grabbed by one of the soldiers and dragging along with them as they left the bank foyer and headed into the back office behind the teller counters. The psychic recording changed perspectives, looking back into the teller area from the office. Through the doorway, the civilians could be seen, looking around in shock. Of the uniformed raiders there was no sign.

  "Mass teleport. Effective but illogical. The Cowl's methodology never fails to fascinate." Aurora stroked his chin.

  Linear buzzed around the room before returning to his seat. Even sitting, he continued to vibrate. Bluebell waved her hand at him, already tired from controlling the psychic condition. Linear muttered and slowed his molecules down enough that his indistinct form wasn't so much of an eye strain for everyone, superpowered vision or not.

  "There is a more important issue at stake, Aurora." Sand Cat's entry to the discussion drew everyone's instant attention; if she had something to say, you'd better be listening.

  Sand Cat gestured to Bluebell, who wound the recording back through to the beginning, before the mystery speedster took out the Cowl. Image paused, she studied the scene carefully. The speedster was a young man with black hair and a floppy fringe, wearing a blue checked shirt and dark jeans. Mr Ordinary.

  Sand Cat pointed, then turned to Aurora, and said nothing.

  Aurora had drawn his hands to his face, clasped together with index fingers outstretched, tapping the triangle of mask that covered his nose. Then he stopped tapping and nodded.

  "A new, unregistered human with powers. One who disguised himself last night but was apparently not so careful earlier."

  Linear drummed his fingers on the table, then shook his head. "A new one was bound to appear, sooner or later."

  Reaching behind his neck he grabbed at the back of his mask and pulled the skintight covering off. Unzipping the top of his tunic, he reached underneath and extracted a glasses case and, with almost painful slowness, opened it, took the thick-framed glasses out, and slid them onto his face. The Dragon Star watched as the old man's hands shook. It looked like he was almost due for another round of rejuvenation. Access to the Slipstream was a very rare power indeed, but the consequences were dire. Linear's accelerated metabolism had trapped the twenty-five-year-old hero in a body that was around fifty years older. Although the Dragon Star didn't quite understand the nuances of human society well enough to fathom the rationale, she knew that was why the star of college track and field had taken to wearing a mask with his costume. Superheroes were young and vigorous, not old and arthritic.

  Sand Cat leaned forward, regaining the attention of the superteam.

  "Forgive me if what I say is already known, but our words are flying in circles around themselves. Our problems are twofold. One, the Cowl has compromised all but one of the vaults, which means he knows what is hidden within each, even if we do not. Two, an unknown powered agency is operating in San Ventura, and he appears to be targeting the Cowl. We must protect the secrets hidden in the city, and we must prevent this newcomer from taking rash action. Both are critical."

  SMART's head whirred to face Sand Cat, who raised an eyebrow as the machine-man commented. The Dragon Star watched in silence. She knew Sand Cat, who drew her powers from a supernatural source, was less impressed with artificial technology, even though SMART was a fully-fledged and independent member of the team. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Bluebell's expression flicker as the psychic member of the team picked up on Sand Cat's unspoken opinion of the robot.

  SMART's eyes flashed as it spoke. "Sand Cat's assessment is accurate. Recommendation one, immediate action to retrieve the final remaining vault; vault to be placed in protective custody within the Citadel of Wonders. Recommendation two, immediate action to disable or recruit unknown power agency."

  Hephaestus frowned. The Dragon Star looked to Aurora, but again he seemed to be staring right at her. Not that it was possible to see exactly where his eyes were looking behind the opaque lenses of his mask.

  Bluebell stood and gestured toward the recording. The image broke up momentarily, and when it reformed it had zoomed in, showing the speedster's face in close-up.

  "Well, the second part should be no problem," she said. "There he is." Bluebell's forehead creased as the image rotated in space to give the best view of the man's face.

  SMART beeped. "Subject file accessed from CIA internal database. Tony Prosdocimi, aged twenty-three years. Occupation: retail assistant, according to IRS records. Last known address accessed."

  "Wait, wait." Linear's agitation caused him to buzz again, rattling the glasses perched on his nose and causing him to place two liver-spotted hands on the conference table to stabilize his chair. "Identification is easy, sure. But apprehension might be a little more difficult. We have no idea what his powers are − he's got superspeed and flight, and he did a number on the Cowl which suggests superstrength and some level of invulnerability. He might have energy powers. Or he might even be psychic." He tapped his temple and nodded at Bluebell. The superheroine nodded and turned to her husband.

  "Linear's right. We need to take him in, but avoid collateral damage. He must know who we are, but if he's going up against the Cowl, chances are he'll listen to us. We're the good guys, after all."

  "Agreed," said Aurora after a beat. "We need to account for all eventualities. Bluebell, Sand Cat, Linear: pay a visit to Mr Prosdocimi in the morning, put him to the test, see how he reacts and what he's got, and depending on the outcome, make him an offer. We want him fighting on our side."

  Bluebell nodded, as did Sand Cat. The two stood together.

  Aurora brought his gloved hands together in front of his face again in thought. The halo of fire over his head began to darken from a white-red to a deep orange.

  "SMART, Hephaestus: calculate possible locations of the remaining vault, and work to protect it on-site, or to bring it into the Citadel."

  "As my lord commands." Hephaestus stood and bowed, and picked his blacksmith's hammer from the table. He turned to leave, then paused.

  "It would help if we knew what we had hidden, would it not? To know what the Cowl was trying to steal?"

  Bluebell's eyes widened. The other heroes turned as one to Aurora, but their leader's expression was set in the enigmatic smirk.

  "Perhaps," said Aurora, "but some knowledge is too dangerous, even for us. Bluebell hid the knowledge from our minds – from
all
of our minds, and such an action cannot be undone."

  Hephaestus frowned and adjusted his grip on his hammer. Aurora's smile widened.

  "All we need to do is stop the Cowl taking the final vault."

  "So," the Greek god began, "why did we let him go, again? If his accomplice was injured we could have treated her here."

  Aurora's expression was unchanged. "While we are – were – able to track the other vaults, the location of the final secret was designed as a mystery, even to us. We need to locate it as much as he does. Perhaps he can lead us there."

  "Ah." Hephaestus glanced at the others, then back to Aurora. "You have been expecting this to happen, my lord?"

  "Sooner or later," said Aurora, tilting his head just a little, almost in amusement.

  Hephaestus nodded, then waved at SMART to follow. The two lumbered out, followed by Bluebell, Sand Cat and Linear.

  The Dragon Star did not move. She sat at the opposite end of the conference table from Aurora, and, alone together, she finally met Aurora's blank gaze, raising her head until the wide hood slipped back. Still she said nothing. The two heroes sat, staring, for ten seconds before Aurora broke the silence.

  "Dragon Star, dismissed." He rose and, sweeping his cloak around his wide frame, strode from the room.

  The Dragon Star relaxed, just a little, one hand sliding down her powerstaff a little, the other fingering the data stick hidden underneath the fold in her cloak. She sat for a few more seconds, then left the room, staff clacking loudly on the floor.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

 
 

"Are you sure about this?"

  Sam frowned and she heard Joe's chair shift next to hers as her partner tried to get comfortable. They'd been in Gillespie's office nearly all afternoon, had spent hours trawling through the data, through surveillance reports and summary sheets prepped by Joe, through request forms and requisition orders filled out by Sam. All the evidence was there, laid out on the small conference table that filled the space of the police chief's office that wasn't taken up by his actual desk.

  They had it all there, no problem.

  "Is there a problem, captain?" Sam's eyes roved the table top. There were the surveillance photographs showing the target, an athleticlooking young woman with spiky dyed-black hair coming and going from a nondescript apartment building out in the eastern side of downtown. Other photos of her in the CIT parking lot. She'd been trailed all over the city, but the plainclothes out in the field had reported several times when she'd somehow dropped off their radar altogether. She was clearly hiding something, and was doing it with some skill.

  It had taken a full two weeks to gather enough evidence – a relatively short space of time, all things considered. Aside from the supposed connection between the names and the information from Lansbury down in ballistics about the fabric, there was nothing to actually link Doctor Ravenholt with Blackbird, nothing more than coincidences and circumstantial evidence. But they needed to talk to her about the fabric, and the best option was a raid. Under any normal circumstances that was probably well over the top, but considering who the suspect most likely was – and who she was partnered with – they needed decisive action.

  Gillespie's office was stuffy, but at least he had a window and a view of the city. Sam hadn't been back to ballistics since she and Joe had gotten the results of Lansbury's analysis. Since that hot afternoon underneath the city streets, Sam's laboratory phobia had come back – or, more likely, her phobia of aged ballistics experts who went by the name Lansbury. Speaking on the phone was no better – every time she'd done it in the last two weeks she could just imagine the scientist in her antique office, sitting on the antique chair that no way in hell could have been either comfortable or good for her back, eyes closed and with the confident smile that people who thought they knew everything had.

  "Sir, I'm happy with the data we have, and I think we can proceed." Sam knew the chief was just testing. They hadn't gone over everything for nothing and Gillespie had been the model of attention. It was on his neck too, she realized – they'd blown the Seven Wonders off once already and were now going to proceed with their investigation without them. Which was, Sam had argued, essential, given the interference from Bluebell. But on that matter, at least, their hands were tied. While there was no authority they could have complained to about the actions of the town's superteam, they were at least within their rights to do their job and take the Cowl – and Blackbird – down, should the opportunity arise. If the Seven Wonders wanted to complain about that when they handed them Blackbird, or the Cowl, or both, Sam wanted to see them try to mindwipe a whole country via the dozens of television cameras she hoped would be watching.

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