Shades of Gray (15 page)

Jet took a deep breath.
This,
she told herself,
is profoundly stupid.
But Taser was on his way, and more than that, Jet had this feeling that this man, Doctor Hypnotic, wouldn’t hurt her. Not while she was of interest to him, at any rate.

She wondered, as she pushed back her cowl, if she were getting as arrogant as a Lighter.

“Golden hair,” he said, smiling warmly. “Just like your mother’s. Why do you keep it hidden?”

Surprised by the question, she replied, “Long hair isn’t suitable for battle conditions.”

“But a cape is?” Hypnotic snorted. “Braid it, then,” he said, staring at her pinned-up hair. “So beautiful. You shouldn’t keep it hidden away.”

“I’ll take it up with Branding,” she said dryly.

“Your goggles,” he said. “Please take them off, as you said you would.”

Crap.
Jet pushed her optiframes up until they rested on her brow.

He was staring at her, his face rapt. “Just like her,” he breathed. “Except the eyes. You have your father’s eyes.” He reached over to her, as if he meant to stroke her cheek.

She stepped out of reach. This was bordering on creepy.

He murmured, “So tiny. Just like Holly.”

Holly. That was her mother’s name. Her just-between-Angelica-and-Blackout name.

“I’m Hal.”

Just as she thought this confrontation couldn’t get any odder, something else happened. She rolled with it. “Hi, Hal. I’m Joan.”

“Joan,” he said agreeably. “You lost your mother. But tell me, did you ever lose your true love?”

Thoughts of Samson flitted through her mind—his easy laugh, his strong, gentle hands. Jet swallowed thickly. “Yes.”

Doctor Hypnotic paused, studying her. “Yes, you did, didn’t you? How old were you?”

“Fourteen.”

“I was twenty-two,” he said sadly. “I lost her to someone else. I lost her to a Shadow.”

“My love died,” Jet said, sullen and suddenly angry. “He died on a training mission. He was fifteen years old, and he got killed by an Everyman.”

“So much death,” Doctor Hypnotic said, his voice full of regret. “And so young. I can give you a better world, Joan.”

She let out a small laugh. “I appreciate the offer.” More than she cared to admit. “But I’m duty-bound to
this
world.” Before she could think better of it, she said, “You can be too. You can help make a difference.”

Doctor Hypnotic smiled. “Why, Joan, what a marvelous idea. I’ll have to think about that. Do you know how hypnosis works?”

Right. That was her cue. “Thank you for being a man of honor, Hal,” she said quickly, taking another step toward her unconscious friends. “I’ll just get out of your hair now …”

“It’s simple, really. You need to distract the conscious mind so that it doesn’t fight you when you whisper to the unconscious mind. Light works well as a distraction. But it’s not necessary, depending on the mind I encounter.” He grinned. “You’re a Shadow power, Joan. You’re practically conditioned to receive my suggestions. Just like your father was, during the so-called Siege of Manhattan.”

“How nice,” Jet said, taking another step.

“I’ve already hypnotized you, Joan. Don’t you see? I’ve taken away the light.”

“Of course you have,” she said, and then she turned to her friends …

… but that was when the lights went out.

No!
She reached for her optiframes to banish the Darkness, but it was gone.
Oh Light, no!

yes yes little girl yes

She spun around, desperate to escape before the voices took over. But there was nowhere for her to go; the Shadow was all around her.

The Shadow was in her.

little Joan little Jet little lamb lost little lamb

She doubled over, screaming, clutching her head, pulling her hair.
No, not like this!

like this you like this you like us little Joan don’t fight

Her screaming faded to a whimper, and she wrapped her arms over her head, bowing in her despair.
Please, Light, not like this.

don’t fight don’t fight don’t

She didn’t want to give in, but she wasn’t strong enough to fight.

“Joan.”

The voice was cool, calm, the epitome of reason in the face of madness.

“Joan, I can make the voices go away.”

Light, please.

“Look at the light, Joan. Look at the Light and don’t fight me.”

don’t fight

“Look at the Light.”

Something bright, bright enough that she saw it through her squeezed eyelids. Desperate to believe, she opened her eyes.

The Light washed over her, and the Shadow cowered, retreated. The Light beckoned, easing her terror, soothing away her fear. Her body slowly relaxed.

“Joan. Look to your left.”

She did.

“Do you see it, Joan? Do you see the Shadow?”

She did. It quivered as the Light noticed it, but though it hissed and spat, the Shadow didn’t attack. It didn’t try to seduce her again, but neither did it flee. It waited patiently for her to lower her guard.

“Look to your right, Joan. Do you see the door? It’s reinforced tilithium. Nothing can get through it, Joan. Nothing can break it. Do you see it?”

She did.

“The door is open now. Do you see the tiny cell it hides?”

She did.

“There is nothing in the cell but wall and ceiling and floor. The door is the only way in. The door is the only way out. Do you see?”

She did.

“The Light is forcing the Shadow inside the cell.”

At that, the Shadow bucked and screamed. It fought against the pulsing light, it launched itself at the Light, at Jet; it flowed up and down and scrabbled for purchase. But the Light caught it and redirected it, pushed it toward the cell.

The Shadow gathered itself, forming the shape of a woman, the shape of Jet herself, and with a delirious screech it launched itself at her.

Jet rolled with the Shadow, screaming, fighting back with everything she had. She punched at it, shouting her rage and fear, bellowing as she lashed out with brutal kicks. She fought it—and because she wasn’t alone, this time, Jet was winning.

“Joan! The cell, Joan!”

With a defiant cry, she grabbed the Jet-Shadow and spun, throwing it toward the cell. The Light reached out and grabbed the Shadow’s ankle and dragged it into the tiny room. The Shadow scrabbled and clawed, squealing and shrieking, but it didn’t matter—the Light forced the Shadow into the prison cell. The door slammed shut with the finality of a coffin lid sliding home, sealing in the Light and the Shadow both.

Jet was swaying, now, shaking with fatigue, exhausted physically and mentally and emotionally. Tears of relief streamed down her face.

“The Shadow can’t hurt you anymore,” Doctor Hypnotic said. “By the way, I’m really sorry about this.”

He grabbed her shoulders and spun her to the left … and then a bolt of electricity slammed into Jet.

Too stunned to scream, her limbs flailed and jittered. She didn’t even register the pain.

She thought she heard Taser say, “Whoops.”

When the Darkness reached for Jet, for the first time since she was a teenager, she didn’t worry about the Shadow voices reaching for her. With a smile, she passed out cold.

CHAPTER 17

IRIDIUM

I tried for days to make Subject 1102 replicate the effect, but in the end I failed. An autopsy will probably tell me more.

—Matthew Icarus, diary entry dated October 30, 1982

A
figure lay on the ground outside the building, black and black on the pitted asphalt. Iridium was off the bike before Boxer had come close to stopping, sprinting for the smaller body on the ground.

If I hadn’t stopped if I hadn’t waited if I’d stayed with her …

“If I’d been here …”

“You’d be out for the count too.”

Iridium snapped her head up from Jet, who was breathing, though not often or deeply. “You have a lot of fucking nerve showing your face, Taser.”

The mercenary chuckled behind his mask. “Not exactly.”

Iridium rose, strobes blossoming all around her like a garden of poison flowers. “Give me a reason.”

“To kiss me or kill me?”

“Hey,” Boxer said, putting his hand on Iridium’s shoulder as she started for the big man. “Your gal needs a hospital, stat. Her pulse is tachy and she’s burned.”

“Hypnotic.” Taser scrubbed a hand across his goggles. “I got a call, and I saw Jet, then she wasn’t Jet, she was … well. She was Doctor Hypnotic. I shocked her. I did it.”

Only the befuddled pain in his tone kept Iridium from burning him to cinder on the spot. “There were two more. Firebug and Steele.”

Taser waved his hand vaguely at the building. “He let us go. Why would he do that … ?”

Iridium snapped her fingers. “Boxer, help Jet.” She started for the building. Taser grabbed her arm, Kevlar glove scratchy against her skin.

“No! What about me?”

Iridium cocked an eyebrow. “You? Roast in your own power, for all I care.” She yanked herself free and ran into the building.

Steele and Firebug stood near a decrepit security desk. Steele looked worse for wear, leaning against the desk, holding her head. Firebug stood under her own power, but tear tracks made their way down her sweaty, grimy face.

“Harriet,” she said. “Harrie, I’m so sorry. I didn’t get here in time …”

“Forget it, Kai.” Steele waved her away. “Nobody could have done anything against that maniac.”

“He just … let us go.” Firebug let out a shuddering breath. “Something’s not right.”

“Great. We’re all members of the Something’s Not Right Club,” Iridium said. “Let’s get you two out of here before old Googly-Eyes changes his mind.”

Firebug gasped. “Iridium?”

Next to her, Steele said quietly, “We don’t want any trouble with you.”

“And I don’t want to be babysitting heroes.” She met Steele’s glare for a moment, remembering that she favored her left in a hand-to-hand fight. She could beat Steele again if the bigger woman became a problem.

Stupid, bitchy, mistrustful heroes.

“Let’s go,” she said. “You and Jet both need a medic. Firebug needs to fix up her face. No future in hanging around here.”

Steele stood, grimacing with the effort. “You walk first. Show us your back.”

They didn’t trust her. And they were smart not to.

Iridium sighed and walked ahead, making a show of turning her back on the two other women. “Satisfied? I’m not the boogeyman today.”

“No,” Firebug shivered. “No, you’re not.”

Outside, Taser had loaded Jet onto his hoverbike while Boxer stood by, glaring at the taller man with enough power to strip plastipaint off steel.

“Gramps here thinks I’m going to abscond with the princess.” Taser’s mask wrinkled as he grinned. All of the confusion and terror of before were gone, locked back inside his box. Iridium had a similar one, where she kept all emotion not immediately useful to the situation at hand.

That trick Corp had taught her, not Lester. It was the only thing of value she’d taken with her when she’d run—the ability to be heartless. Corp excelled at every level in that.

Taser loomed up next to her. “Powwow, chief.”

Iridium glared at him. “What? If it’s an apology, why don’t you go throw it in the lake and jump after it?”

“We can’t take Jet to a hospital.” He flexed his gloves, armored plates creaking. “She’s still got enough enemies to make it risky, plus a rabid could get to her while she’s out.”

Iridium glanced at Steele. “I know a place. Head for old Wrigley Field, top level. We’ll meet you there.”

Steele frowned hugely.

“Yes,” Iridium snapped, “I know about your secret superhero club. Jet invited me. Can we trade meaningful looks after you and she have gotten some medical attention?”

“She’s right, Harrie,” Firebug said softly. “You need help.”

“Fine.” The look on Steele’s face made it clear this conversation wasn’t over, just postponed.

“Come on, ladies,” Boxer said, patting the backseat of his hover. “There’s room if we all get friendly.”

Taser climbed onto his bike, making sure Jet was secure. “See you at the ball field.” He gunned the engine, and a moment later, he and Jet were gone.

Iridium looked at Boxer. “Make room for one more.”

“All right, but if my hover discs give out, you’re paying.”

“Oh, Jehovah.” Meteorite leapt up from the console when Iridium, Taser, Boxer, and the motley assembly of heroes marched into the main room of Squadron headquarters. “What is this, the halfway house for supervillains?” Then she saw Steele’s limp, and Jet in Taser’s arms, sagging like a sack of cement, and hissed in a breath.

Iridium stood to the side and let the heroes fuss. Sooner or later, they’d get over this ridiculous reaction to seeing Iridium up close.

“What happened?” Frostbite had slipped off his earpiece and was helping Taser with Jet.

“Hypnotic got the drop on us,” Steele said, sinking down into a booth. Firebug sat opposite her, rubbing her arms, her eyes wide and shocked. Whatever Hypnotic had made her see, she was having a hard time of it. Iridium vaguely recalled Firebug being a whiner at the Academy, crying whenever she’d get a skinned knee. Terrific—a thin-skinned superhero. Iridium checked herself from rolling her eyes.

Meteorite, by Frostbite’s side, said, “Get Jet into the med room.” As Frostbite carried the small woman around a corner and out of sight, Meteorite turned to Steele. “You okay?”

“Just need a moment,” Steele muttered.

“More like you need a week’s vacation,” Iridium said. “Christo, when’s the last time any of you got any sleep?”

Meteorite gave her a look that was pure venom. “Firebug, you can show our … guests … out.”

“I ain’t going anywhere until Jet’s all right.” Taser settled himself under a playoff pennant and crossed his arms.

“I stay if she stays,” Boxer said, jerking his thumb at Iridium.

“Look,” Meteorite said. “It’s cute you have a little thug entourage, Iridium, but this is a place for the Squadron. You’re not needed.”