The Indestructibles (23 page)

Chapter 52:

Diner

Jane, Billy, Titus, and Kate sat in a pizza parlor a block from where the Tower once stood, waiting for Doc and Emily to deposit the drill monster on the island where their ruined lab now sat empty.

      Emily had castigated Doc about the deplorable conditions they left the creature in. Upon their return, they were still engaged in an animated conversation

      "What's it gonna eat?"

      "Those things were designed to hibernate," Doc said. "When it discovers there's no food, it will dig a hole and go to sleep for ten years. We can return for it later."

      "How would you like to be abandoned and left alone on a desert island?" Emily said.

      "It'll go right back to sleep, Em."

      "I should visit. Keep it company."

      "No, you shouldn't," he said.

      Doc pulled a chair up to the booth where everyone else sat, taking a small piece of sad, droopy pizza covered in powdered concrete and salt.

      "What was it, anyway?" Kate said.

      Her tone was flippant, but she slid a paper plate across the table with another full slice on it — this time, cement free — for Doc, who appeared more and more lethargic every time they saw him.

      "I thought we dealt with all of those creatures," he said. "When I was around your age, a group of aliens unleashed a swarm of them on earth as a precursor to a terraforming expedition. It took us months to hunt them all down. Looks like we missed at least one."

      "So Bubba has been sleeping for fifty years?" Emily said.

      "Fifty — what?" Doc said.

      "Bubba?" Titus said.

      "How old do you think I am?" Doc said.

      "Like seventy, right? Seventy five?"

      "Forty. I'm forty years old. Do I look that bad?"

      "You really want an answer?"

      "No he doesn't," Jane said, throwing sugar packets at Emily from across the table. "So, do you think it was left there on purpose?"

      "Maybe," Doc said. "Probably not for us. I bet somebody knew one was buried under the city and was just waiting for the best time to activate it and get the most terror for their buck."

      "We're missing a bigger problem here," Titus said. "Our base . . . flew . . . away."

      "No it didn't," Doc said.

      "I'm a werewolf. That means I have anger management problems, not eyesight problems. Our roof flew away like a space ship," he said.

      "It really didn't fly off. It's a few miles away, waiting for us."

      "Flying?" Titus said.

      "More like hovering," Doc said.

      "You see what my problem is here, regardless," Titus said. "How do Kate and I come and go? Rope ladder?"

      Kate made a shushing gesture at Titus. The two proffered a strange little silent exchange that Jane thought was almost cute, and then Kate directed her attention back towards Doc.

      "Is it one of your friend Annie's inventions? A flying base?"

      Doc shook his head.

      "That ship was here long before Annie came along. Before I came along."

      "Did you just say ship?" Kate said.

      "I did."

      Billy, who had somehow managed to get even more bruised and battered than he had from the explosion, put his head down on the table, his face landed in the pizza, a little bit of sauce dripped from his cheek. "It's a space ship," he said.

      "No way," Emily said.

      "Dude just confirmed it for me. He wants to know how many of the others are still active."

      "Others?" Doc said.

      "Yeah. Dude says . . . let me use his exact words: nobody actually knows how many starships are currently masquerading as buildings on planet Earth," Billy said.

      "The Gherkin in London better be a rocket ship or I'm gonna be super disappointed," Emily said.

      "You've been to London?" Jane said, raising an eyebrow at her.

      "Why is everyone so surprised when I know anything!" Emily said.

      "Were they trying to attack us to send a message? Was it to make us look bad on TV? What was the reason behind it?" Kate said.

      "It could have been to keep us busy while they get something worse planned," Jane said.

      "All plausible," Doc said.

      "Can we go back to discussing how we're living in a space ship all this time and never knew it?" Emily asked.

      "Or how there are apparently countless spaceships disguised as buildings all over the world?" said Billy.

      Just then, Sam walked in, his coat slung over his shoulder and fedora tipped back on his head.

      "I leave for a few hours and your entire building blows up?"

      "Didn't blow up," Emily said. "It crumbled."

      Kate turned back to Doc again.

      "Why salt? Why not just make it evaporate?"

      Doc threw up his hands.

      "It's magic. Movement of energy back and forth," he said. "I couldn't just displace it, and didn't want to turn it into something awful, and I wanted to transform it into something that could dissolve in the rain. It was the first thing I thought of. Next time I'll try baking soda."

      "Caught the whole thing on the news," Sam said, sidling over. "Considering an entire building is now gone — including the part of it that flew off into the sunset — you guys did a great job containing the problem."

      "Sure did," Emily said.

      "Except I think we did too good a job," Kate said. "If their goal was to maximize destruction, why attack our home base? They knew we were there. They placed that homing beacon in Hyde. This wasn't coincidence."

      "So, we're back to asking what they get out of distracting us," Jane said.

      A phone rang, an awkward, muffled, deep in someone's pocket ringing. Everyone looked around the table, then to Emily — the only one who ever got a call on her cell — and then back to each other until Billy scrambled to pull one from his pocket.

      "Uh, hello? Oh. Wow. No — yes. I'm okay. No. Really. I'm — you don't have to . . . But . . . Okay. Okay. Yes. I'll try."

      He hung up, put the phone away, and leaned back in his chair.     Everyone looked at him, waiting.

      "What?" Billy asked.

      "Who was that?" Titus asked.

      "Nobody. I'm cool."

      "I'm cool? Nobody? Are you serious?" Jane asked.

      "It was — it was my mom," Billy said.

      "Holy crap. Your mom?" Titus said.

      "I, like, she saw us on the news. I wasn't wearing my costume. She recognized me."

      "Saw you on the news?" Jane said.

      She tried to picture the horror of a parent watching their child fighting a giant monster on TV. But then thought of her own adoptive parents and wondered how often they saw her and worried. Doc said they raised more than one hero, but could it be something that got easier over time?

      "Just wanted to make sure I was okay."

      "That's . . . " Titus said.

      "Really nice," Kate said.

      "I guess," Billy said.

      "Do you check in with her much?" Titus asked.

      "No," he said. "I don't want her to have to, well, do this. To worry."

      "You don't call your mom?" Kate asked, incredulous.

      "Emily calls her mom during missions!" Titus said.

      "I just . . . whatever," Billy said.

      "You should go visit her," Emily said, finally.

      Billy raised an eyebrow.

      "I'll go with you," Emily said. "She should know you're all right."

      "Looks like he got hit by a bus," Titus said. "Wouldn't call that all right."

      "Maybe another time," Billy said.

      "Doc?" Emily said.

      "It's up to you, Billy. How you conduct your private lives is entirely up to you. It'll always be up to you."

      Billy rested his hands on the table and stared at his fingers, refusing to make eye contact with anyone.

      "Billy," Kate said, as always free of irony or sarcasm. "If I had the opportunity, I would."

      He looked at her, eyebrows raised in puppy-like guilt.

      "Okay," he said.

      Doc stood up, adjusted his coat, exchanged a long glance with Sam.

      "Why don't you do that right now, Billy," Doc said. "I have a feeling things are going to get worse soon. Take advantage of the time while you have it."

      "I'm going with him," Emily said.

      "Okay," Doc said. "We'll get the rest of you back up to our — "

      "Starship!" Emily said.

      "Our base," he said.

      "If this involves a teleporter I quit immediately," Titus said.

      "No teleporters," Doc said. "I promise."

      Sam roamed up to the counter to pay their bill, and everyone else shuffled outside. Billy stayed behind, still sitting in his chair. Emily debated with Doc about whether their base could really fly deep into outer space or not. Jane lingered at the door, watching Billy mope. She opened her mouth to speak, but, knowing he probably wouldn't pay attention, turned and left.

      Billy watched her leave out of the corner of his eye, and said nothing.

      Emily came running back in, almost knocking Sam over as he passed through the door. She sat down opposite Billy.

      "Let's go, Sugar Bear."

      "Why you doing this?"

      "Because you're like my big brother."

      Billy laughed.

      "Big brothers are supposed to be the ones who do the looking after, Em."

      "That's one of life's great falsehoods, Billy Case," Emily said. "Big brothers always need the most looking after. Because nobody ever knows how much they need it."

Chapter 53:

The defector

That's infinitely worse than a teleporter," Titus said, examining the best option for Kate and him to commute to and from the now airborne Tower base.

      "Trust me," Doc said. "This is much better."

      "I'm not E.T. riding a bicycle across the moon."

      Kate saw the bikes before — that's what they were calling them, one- and two-seat flying contraptions which could be retrieved by remote from a storage bay in a room none of them had visited much before. She understood Titus's concerns, truth be told — they were like oversized motorcycles, but instead of wheels, some futuristic repulsor system jutted out from the bottom and rear, allowing them to fly well into the atmosphere.

      And they weren't equipped with seatbelts.

      "What if I fall off? It's windy up here!"

      "You won't," Doc said.

      Jane, who tagged along out of morbid curiosity rather than need, laughed. "You fall off of everything," she said.

      "See?" Titus said. "I'll die on these things."

      "I wasn't going to tell you, but there
is
a teleporter on this ship," Doc said. "Hasn't been used in a while, but . . . "

      "How about no," Titus said.

      "We'll figure something out," Kate said, pulling Titus away from the bikes. She wanted nothing to do with them either, but the first rule of being Kate was to not show fear. The idea of riding thousands of feet above sea level made her vaguely nauseous.

      "Where we going?" Titus said.

      "I want to check where storm girl is," Kate said.

      Sam, another tagalong back to the ship, chuckled as they left.

      "Should I tell them about the time . . . "

      "Save that story for another day," Doc said.

      Kate and Titus walked briskly down the corridor toward the communications suite. Strange, everything on the ship gave the impression of being moved around since it uncoupled itself from its earthbound moorings. Now Kate took wrong turns and needed to ask Neal to help her find things.

      When they located the suite, both plopped down in chairs to search for the storm.

      "We're getting the short end of the stick on this one, Kate," Titus said.

      "Historically, heroes who couldn't fly suffered a lot of indignities," she said. "It's the way of the world."

      Kate tapped a few keys and connected to a satellite view of the Atlantic. The storm stalled northeast of Puerto Rico, a huge, swirling mass of clouds far enough off shore that none of the runoff appeared to be reaching land.

      "What's she doing out there?" Kate said.

      "Waiting? She'll raise hell whenever they get around to sending her back to the mainland."

      She tapped the keyboard a few times.

      "Something's happening out there."

      A sound neither of them had ever heard suddenly squeaked from the control console. They glanced at each other in surprise.

      "What did you touch?" Kate asked.

      "I'm just sitting here. You're the one tapping things."

     
"Designation: Dancer,"
Neal said.
"There is an incoming call from an unknown source. How would you like to proceed?"

      "Answer it," Kate said. "And . . . trace it? Can you trace it?"

     
"I trace all incoming calls. Patching the call through now."

      Kate placed her mask on.

      Titus pulled his hood up.

      She looked at him incredulously.

      He shrugged and mouthed — "what else should I do?"

      The screen illuminated and the saddest sack of humanity either of them had ever seen appeared on screen, three times the size of life. He wore a hippie's ponytail, thick glasses, and a hangdog look smeared in week-old stubble.

      "Who are you?" Kate asked sharply.

      "I'm — have I reached . . . " the man started laughing, a wet, almost drunken laugh. "Have I reached the good guys? I'm sorry. Don't know what else to call you. I'm just . . . I'm trying to reach the good guys."

      "I suppose you have," she said. "What do you want?"

      "I'm — my name is Hans Wegener. Doctor Hans Wegener," the man said. "These disasters, these . . . these bad things, they're my fault. Sort of my fault. I know where they came from. I'm — I'm sorry, your costume is a hooded sweatshirt?" Wegener asked staring at Titus.

      "Focus, doctor," Kate said. "Why are you contacting us?"

      Wegener rubbed his eyes. They were red, raw, bloodshot. The eyes of someone who hasn't slept in days.

      "I want to set her free," he said. "Want to let the storm escape before they use her for something terrible again."

      "How?" Kate said. "We saw a girl in the storm — is that who you mean?"

      She gestured with her hand for Titus to get the others.

      He shot back a look of confusion.

      Kate repeated the motion.

      Titus shrugged — "what?"

      "No, the girl is . . . The storm required a body. The life span of a sentient storm is less than a year. We thought if we bound it to a human, we could control it, or control her. Rationalize with it. Or . . . use pain to direct her actions."

      "Like the others. Like the cortex bombs," Titus said.

      "Yes," Wegener said. He looked over his shoulder. "I don't have much time. I — there are controls here. I'm transmitting my passwords to you now. If you destroy the controls here, they won't be able to hurt her anymore. She'll be free."

      "The girl and the storm will be free of each other?" Titus asked. "We'll set her loose?"

      Wegener shook his head.

      "Without the storm, the girl is a vegetable. The storm breathed life back into her. But without the girl the storm has weeks to live. Maybe less. They're bound to each other. That can't be fixed. Not without killing them both."

      "But we can take her away from your people," Kate said.

      "You have to," he said.

      "Neal?" Kate said.

     
"Source located, Designation: Dancer."

      "Where are you, doctor?" Kate said. "Do they know what you're doing?"

      "They'll find out," Wegener said. "They always do. I haven't been . . . "

      "You need to stay safe," she said. "Don't do anything stupid. We'll come get you as well."

      "No," Wegener said. "I — I can hear them now. They're looking for me. I don't deserve your help anyway. I'm Doctor Frankenstein. Made nothing but monsters."

      "Then why call us?" Titus said.

      "You've seen the storm," he said. "She deserves to be free."

      "Everybody does, sir," Kate said.

      Wegener smiled at her, a sad, tiny smile.

      They heard a hissing noise, and then the smile faded, his eyes blurred, his shoulders slumped.

      A woman's hand slid onto the screen. It reached behind Wegener's back and pulled out a blood-covered throwing knife. She pushed him over, and the scientist dropped to the floor. The woman crossed into the camera; a refined face marred by an eye patch surrounded with scars.

      "Oh, hello," she said. "Sad little man, wasn't he? Was he looking for a rescue?"

      "Maybe," Kate lied.

      "I suppose we all want to be rescued sometimes." She looked at the body on the floor off camera. "But we can't have everything. Can we?"

      "We're going to find you," Titus said.

      "Which one are you? I don't recognize your face," the woman said. "Ah, you must be the werewolf."

      "How — "

      "It's funny, I rarely see one of your kind with their human face on," Rose said. "Do you want to know which body you keep when you die? I've killed enough of your people to be an expert on it."

      "What's it like having no peripheral vision?" Titus said.

      "I'm going to kill you as well, you know."

      "Do you trip a lot?" he said. "Sometimes, do you miss your chair when you try to sit down?"

      "Slowly. I'm going to exterminate you slowly."

      Kate disconnected the line. The screen went blank.

      "I refuse to be murdered by a chick with one eye."

      "And taunting her seemed to work so really well," Kate said. "Titus, she just stabbed a man on camera."

      "I'm having trouble processing that part," he said. "I blame that on too much TV — it really happened, right? Wasn't a show produced to try to deceive us?"

      They glanced around the room, then towards each other, unsure of what their next move should be. Finally, Kate spoke.

      "Neal, can you please pinpoint their location for us?"

      "Already done."

      "Good," she said. "Now you and I tell Doc what we found."