Trance (13 page)

Ding, ding, ding! “Let me guess,” I said. “MetaHuman Control?”

“Unofficially,” McNally said. “The MHC hung up its spurs when the War ended, but we are still ATF, and we’re here to help.”

“Help? I thought all you people did was monitor us and tell us how we could be doing things better. You don’t get your hands dirty.”

Grayson puckered his eyebrows. Any patience that previously existed was gone. “The Ranger Corps and the ATF have always worked together to provide assistance and to further cooperation between your people and the American public. Now that everyone’s powers have returned, it seems pertinent to reestablish our working relationship as quickly as possible.”

Gage gently pushed me into the room a few more inches. He continued to observe them silently, hopefully checking their vitals for telltale signs.

“You should both be talking to Dr. Seward if you want to get daily progress reports,” I said. “I’m not a bureaucrat, nor
am I a politician. I’m a Ranger, and I need to be in here doing my job, not a meet-and-greet.”

“You’re wrong, if you don’t think you’re a politician,” McNally said. “The Ranger Corps presented an image to the American public, one of service and good deeds. That image was tarnished during the War, and if you wish to continue to operate with the support of the government, you’ll need to do a little PR work.”

“PR?”

“Public relations. Sing a song, do a dance, remind people you’re the good guys.”

I bristled at her tone. “Sing a song? Our predecessors destroyed New York City, Chicago, Salt Lake City, St. Louis, and Memphis. L.A, too, in case you didn’t notice on the flight over the city. Not to mention polluting the Mississippi River, alkalizing the Great Salt Lake, and turning Lake Erie into a cesspool. I don’t think a song and dance is going to appease anyone.

“In fact, maybe I was only ten years old, but I recall some Senate hearings where you people starting calling for the Rangers to be disbanded and all members—what was the word? Neutralized?”

The painful memories flooded forth, as if a gate had been opened to the past. The anger and resentment returned, as did the late-night arguments between my father and other adult Rangers. My father had wanted to fight, to stand up to the politicians who saw us as a blight, as no better than the Banes they so desperately tried to stop. The very Banes whom they had, in some ways, helped create. Others wanted us to quit protecting the innocents who called for our extinction.

“It was a different time, Trance,” Grayson said.

“Really?” I thought of Cliff; his fear in the truck stop parking lot had been the same. Fear never really changed.

“Yes, and in case you aren’t aware, the world is already taking notice of the increased activity here and around Manhattan. A lot of people saw that stunt you pulled yesterday with turning the sky purple—”

“Stunt?” Gage said, making that single word sound like the worst profanity in the universe. “She almost died yesterday, you arrogant bastard.”

Grayson’s eyes narrowed. “Irregardless—”

“That’s not a word,” Gage said.

The older man grunted and turned his frustrated glare onto his companion.

McNally folded her hands on the top of the table, the perfect picture of calm. “Look, the point is that we are not your enemies, but we are also not your friends. My duty is to protect this country and its citizens, and to ensure their continued safety. Powered Banes present a threat to that safety. Rangers running around without guidance or thought to consequences present a threat to that safety.”

“No thought to consequences,” I repeated, voice a little too high. My hands clenched, fingernails digging into my palms. “You people are truly arrogant, aren’t you? Do you know how many of our parents and friends and siblings died trying to defend your precious citizens?
All
of them.” My voice broke, and I swallowed hard. Saying it so bluntly ripped the scab off an unhealed wound. “They sacrificed themselves for you, and for the fifty billion other people on this planet. Remind the public of
that. It’s not like they could go swimming in Lake Erie before.”

“And that’s what you’ll say when
you
people pollute another body of water?” Grayson asked. “It was for the greater good, go swim someplace else?”

“What do you expect from us? To get written permission before defending a town or bus or city block?”

“No, just to think about the consequences before you act.”

“Such as people dying?”

“Such as cause and effect, Trance. It’s taken this country a long time to recover from the destruction of the War, and many are still suffering. Millions remain homeless and unemployed, and violent crime is up in all urban areas.”

“Crime overall is up from last year by point six percent,” Gage said.

Grayson fell silent, seemingly stunned. I wanted to hug Gage for saving me there, because my utter fury at Grayson had stolen away any chance of a proper response.

“Unemployment was actually lower last year than in the previous six years,” Gage continued. “But then you idiots in the government increased the minimum wage again, and suddenly more small businesses can’t afford to pay employees. Now they get handouts, instead of your support, and you can’t blame that on us. So don’t try it.”

McNally leaned forward, her attention fixed on Gage. “What about violent crime rates, Cipher?”

“They spiked after the end of the War. The Rangers were gone. The police and military were in turmoil. MHC had their heads up their asses congratulating themselves on stopping the MetaHuman problem, even though they didn’t do shit.”

Grayson flinched. Gage’s attention snapped toward the balding man a moment, then turned back to McNally. His nostrils flared. He was concentrating on more than just the conversation.

“Cipher, how do you know all of this?” McNally asked.

Exactly what I wanted to know. His understanding of current events far exceeded mine, and while I appreciated his knowledge insofar as it shut Grayson up, it made me feel a little stupid. I didn’t know enough to hold my own against a pair of federal agents—maybe I wasn’t the one who should be leading this unit.

Gage made a rude noise. “I can read, Agent McNally. I was fifteen when we lost our powers. I watched the news and read the feeds and kept track of Congress. I may be a freak, but I’m not an idiot.”

Grayson shook his head. “I don’t think—”

“Stop it, Alexander,” McNally said. “Perhaps we were too quick to judge you, and I apologize.”

I bit my lip to keep silent.
No kidding
danced on the tip of my tongue.

She continued: “Please understand, there is no way to gauge how the public will react to your presence. Every poll taken just this year about the results of the War has the vast majority of responders in favor of the loss of Meta powers, and that is not encouraging. We need you to work with us.”

Rita McNally was a straight-talker, and I liked that. I sort of liked her. She seemed to be taking the time to consider our point of view, and she seemed genuinely interested in helping us, rather than tossing around blame like Alexander Grayson. MHC
had been Ranger allies for decades prior to the War. Hopefully we could keep that relationship open. Funding was nice.

“We understand that,” I said, trying to keep my frustration out of my tone. “But we’re not here to parade around and assure people that we’re the heroes. We don’t have the luxury or the time. There is one Bane on the loose right now, and he’s already killed five of us and critically wounded a sixth. Our energy lies there, and in making sure no one else gets off Manhattan Island.”

“Manhattan Island is quite secure,” Grayson said.

“You’ll excuse me if I don’t take your word for it. Is there anything else we can do for you folks today?”

McNally stood up and unlocked her briefcase. “I will be holding a press conference this evening, outside of the headquarters gate, and announcing that the Rangers have been called once again to protect us. I’ll do my best to avoid directly commenting on the deaths of your friends, or on the situation in New York, but I need you to be prepared for the backlash the next time you go out in public.”

“Are our faces going to be plastered all over the media?”

“If necessary, yes. Costumes and code names only, of course. I will also be making a plea for any Metas in hiding to come forward and identify themselves. Once citizens learn just how outnumbered you are, they may start to panic. We need to increase your numbers.”

“No kidding.”

I needed to ask Dr. Seward about his progress in locating new Metas, those whose powers hadn’t been identified before the end of the War and who were too young to have
chosen a side. Or been located and adopted into one or the other, like Gage and Marco. Certainly whatever magic created us in the first place wouldn’t give back our powers and then leave us so outnumbered. I hoped.

McNally produced a small business card and placed it on the conference table. “This is my direct contact information, Trance,” she said. “Call me if you have questions or need any advice. I was part of MHC for twelve years.”

“Thank you,” I said. Something else occurred to me, although I hated bringing it up. “Listen, when Specter attacked us in Bakersfield he … um, there were two people—”

“The bodies have been taken care of.”

“Oh. Thanks?”

She nodded.

Grayson stood and left the room without a word. McNally snapped her briefcase closed, picked it up, and strolled toward us. She passed Gage, and then paused next to me.

“You remind me of your father,” she whispered. “Hinder was a good man. He would have been proud of you.” To Gage, she added, “So was your brother.”

I gaped at her back as she left the room.

“That was certainly strange,” Gage said.

“Strange, but enlightening.”

“Grayson was hiding something, I’m just not sure what. I could smell his fear, Teresa. He’s afraid of us.”

“So is most of the planet.” I debated my next words, unable to take them back once they were said, and realized I meant them. “I think I trust Agent McNally, Gage. She seems to genuinely want to help us.”

“I agree she wants to help.”

“But?”

He shook his head. “I’m not sure. She was so careful with her reactions, so controlled.”

“Like she’d practiced her answers in anticipation of meeting you?”

“Maybe.”

Huh. It didn’t mean she was lying, but it did give me pause. Made me think. I picked up the woman’s business card. Home and cellular numbers, plus her extension at the ATF satellite office building in Burbank. I slipped the card into my back pocket. It felt odd to want to give my trust so easily to a woman I’d known less than fifteen minutes. Just as I’d given it to Gage, Renee, Dr. Seward, and my other fellow Rangers.

Should I give it or withhold it?

We were back at home in a place where we’d grown up and been trained for what we were doing now. I didn’t know what my teammates’ lives had been like for the last decade; they didn’t know about mine. Would they still look at me like a leader if they knew I was a felon? Did it matter? I wasn’t her anymore. We weren’t who the MHC had made us when they sent us away. We were Rangers, and we couldn’t do this if we didn’t let ourselves trust each other.

I had to let myself trust them. Not so much the agents. Not until they earned it.

“Still want to know what’s happening in New York?” Gage asked.

I nodded. “More than ever.”

R
enee’s blue face filled the monitor, obscuring my view of the room behind her. She blinked, frowned, and then stepped back to reveal the Manhattan Island Penitentiary’s main control room. Serious-looking armed guards walked to and fro. Some carried files or paperwork, others nothing but an angry expression.

“Hey, T, you look a lot better,” Renee said.

“Thanks.” I stood in front of the monitor on our end, Gage by my side. It had taken the MIP guards almost thirty minutes to locate one of our people. Renee and William had been inspecting Bane activity in the north, among the remains of Harlem, when we called. Gage teased me incessantly about my lack of patience until someone finally rustled up Renee.

“Not a lot to report here,” she said. “So far, the Banes aren’t making much effort to escape the island. They’re mostly keeping to themselves. Only a few have actively engaged their powers, but not against us or each other. One guy transmuted dirty water into sparkling clean water.”

“That seems odd, doesn’t it?” Gage asked.

“Pretty odd, yeah, but I’m not knocking a good thing. Disinterested Banes are ones we don’t have to fight. They just seem … I don’t know, out of sorts.”

“What do you mean?”

“Kind of dazed, I guess. Like they got their powers back, only they don’t remember what they’re supposed to do with them. You think it’s some sort of radical rehabilitation program that actually worked?”

“Dunno,” I said. “Have you tried talking to the warden about it?”

“Repeatedly, but he doesn’t have time for me or Caliber. I don’t think he realizes that we’re not the same as those guys he’s been babysitting for a decade and a half. He sees blue skin and big muscles and thinks the worst of us.”

“I know the feeling.” Grayson had been no different in his judgment. At the moment, I didn’t care why the Banes were so apathetic about their powers, as long as it kept them from all-out rebellion. Once we had Specter under control, maybe life wouldn’t be as hard as I imagined.

“Just be careful out there, Flex,” Gage said. “An ATF agent is doing a press conference today in Los Angeles, announcing our return. Once people know who we are, our anonymity is out the window.”

Flex giggled. “He says to the girl with blue skin. Take a look at your team, Cipher. Most of us don’t fit in at a family picnic. Although I can see Trance’s look becoming a popular fashion statement.”

“I hope not,” I said.

“Purple contact lenses will be all the rage.”

“Shut up, Flex.”

“Remember, Flex,” Gage said, “you’re our eyes and ears out there. If you see anything suspicious, let us know immediately. We both got funny vibes from one of the agents they sent to watchdog us, and I don’t think everyone is on our side. You and Caliber need to watch each other’s backs.”