Witch World (35 page)

“What’s a fusion?” I asked.

“Something we don’t speak of,” Cleo said.

A long silence ensued. In my mind I could sense Hatsu’s and Kendor’s restlessness. But I also felt their reluctance to go against Cleo.

“Cleo,” I said. “Is it possible Susan has more witch genes than you?”

Cleo considered. “From what she told you, she made it clear that Lara’s potentially more powerful than she is. I’m sure she’s making that assumption based on the fact Lara has all ten of the witch genes that we’ve been able to identify. Since I have only eight genes, it’s possible Susan has nine. Therefore, the answer to your question must be yes.”

“Could this woman have a gene we’ve never seen before?” Hatsu suggested.

“That’s highly unlikely,” my father interrupted.

“Why?” I asked.

“We’ve scanned billions and only seen ten genes,” he said. “If you ask me, it’s more likely Susan’s developed an unusual form of telepathy whereby she’s able to project a powerful illusion deep inside our minds.”

“What happened to us when Lara was kidnapped had nothing to do with telepathy,” Kendor said firmly.

“Susan’s a puzzle,” Cleo said. “It’s clear she’s never been scanned. It’s like she came out of nowhere.”

I was shocked. “But some of you must have heard rumors of her? I can’t be the first witch to run into her.”

“You might be the first one to meet her and survive to talk about it,” Hatsu said. “Not counting her associates, of course.”

“I’m surprised the Lapras have been able to keep her hidden for so long,” Cleo pondered.

“She works at a local hospital!” I exclaimed. “At least in witch world. She’s not trying to stay hidden at all.”

“On the contrary,” Kendor said. “Her position as a physician has given her a strong cover.”

“She’s already vacated that position and gone into hiding,” Cleo said. “Our people have been unable to locate her through any of the local clinics.”

“What do we know about her?” Hatsu asked.

“I got the impression she’s very old,” I said. “Her sense of morality is barbaric. She believes what she’s doing is right. She talked a lot about President Truman and his decision to drop the atomic bombs on Japan. She compared his choice to her decision to kidnap Lara.”

“Fascinating,” Cleo said.

“Why do you say that?” Jimmy asked.

“That she sees herself as righteous,” Cleo said.

“But surely her interest in atomic energy is related to the Lapras’ program to create more witches by exposing a bunch of street people to excessive radiation,” Hatsu said.

“I think you’re both wrong,” Kendor said.

“Explain,” Cleo said.

“I think she spoke of Hiroshima because she was present when the bomb was dropped,” Kendor replied.

“An interesting idea,” Cleo said. “Does it give you any insight into her psychology? Or her power?”

“It’s just an observation,” Kendor said.

“Does anyone else have any ideas on our mystery woman?” Cleo asked.

“One,” Hatsu said. “After what she did to Russ, we can’t let her make the next move. We have to go on the offense.”

“I agree,” Kendor said. “I’m against Jessie accepting Susan’s offer. I say we focus on locating her and we attack. This evening, in witch world, if possible.”

“Why in witch world?” I asked. “Why not here?”

“We have already discussed the dangers of a frontal attack,” Cleo said, ignoring my questions. “They’re too great. We have to learn more about this woman’s power. Its source, how it can be negated, and what she wants Lara for.”

“So once more we wait and watch?” Kendor asked, not bothering to hide the impatience in his voice.

“We watch and learn,” Cleo said with a note of finality. “Dr. Major, Jessie, Jimmy—we’ll contact you again soon. This meeting is now adjourned.”

The connection went dead.

“I see what you mean,” Jimmy said, leaning back in the sofa where he had been sitting upright. “I could feel their power over the phone. It was like when I met Kendor in person.”

“You met Kendor?” my father asked.

Jimmy froze, realizing his mistake.

“For a minute, after we met with Kari,” I said quickly. “He told us he was guarding our backs before he went on his way.”

My father appeared to accept this remark.

“They showed a lot of faith in you by speaking in front of you,” he said to Jimmy. “I knew them a century before I was
given a chance to sit in on one of their meetings.”

“I suppose I should be grateful,” he said.

I rubbed his back. “Aren’t you?”

Jimmy shrugged. “I’m still an outsider. From now on, every night I hit the sack, I’ll have to worry whether you’ll be alive in the morning.”

“Come on,” I said. “It’s not that bad.”

He stared at me. “Isn’t it?”

My father stood. “I should check on Whip.”

“Wait,” I said. “What did Hatsu mean when he spoke of using a fusion against Susan? And twice Cleo warned about using a frontal assault against the Lapras. Were those two talking about the same thing?”

My father nodded. “I’m pretty sure they are the same. But all I know about fusion is from hints I’ve picked up over the years. The Council has never spoken to me about it directly. But it seems in a major emergency they’re able to join their minds into a single huge consciousness. In such a state, they have access to all the witch genes at once. To all the powers of a perfect witch.”

“It’s hard to imagine they wouldn’t be able to destroy Susan in such a state,” Jimmy said.

“I don’t know enough about the process to argue with you,” my father said. “But note how Hatsu said they needed to know where Susan was and have her pinned down. The fusion might not be that easy to use. Plus it’s pretty clear Cleo’s afraid
Susan will grab Lara and kill her the second they try something so drastic.”

“I agree with Cleo,” I said.

Jimmy was unconvinced. “It didn’t sound like everyone on the Council felt the same way,” he said.

“You’re referring to Kendor,” my father said. “For ages Cleo’s been the cautious one, and her wisdom has allowed the Council to overcome numerous crises. For that reason, they’re reluctant to go against her wishes. All of them except Kendor. He’s more action-oriented, and her strategy to watch and wait drives him nuts. But make no mistake, I’ve never seen him blatantly disobey her.”

I could see my father was anxious to check on Whip.

“How’s our boy wonder doing?” I asked. The previous day, in the real world, after our meeting with Kari, Jimmy and I had spent time with Whip. But we’d left him with my father for the night with the realization that Whip needed a doctor more than he needed friends. Plus, I thought again, he might be infectious.

“His cellulitis is much improved,” my father said. “The IV antibiotics have already helped with the blotches on his skin.”

“But yesterday you were more worried about his lungs,” Jimmy said. “Does he have TB?”

My father hesitated. “No.”

“Dad?” I said, not liking his tone.

My father sighed. “I had an X-ray taken outside of town, at a clinic in Baker. I’ll need to do a biopsy to confirm my diagnosis
but I’m pretty sure his breathing difficulties are a result of large masses in his chest.”

“Masses as in tumors?” I asked, scared.

“Yes.”

“Can you operate on him?” Jimmy asked.

“No. It’s too widespread.”

“Can’t we heal him?” I asked.

My father shook his head. “His condition is beyond my power.”

“But we are supposed to be genetically enhanced healers,” I complained. “What good is our power?”

“His tumors are not normal. They were created by direct contact with plutonium.” My father saw how hurt we were and hastily added, “But you and your amazing daughter—I don’t know, miracles do happen. Maybe we can do something for him.”

Jimmy looked devastated. I felt pretty shaky myself.

“He’s so young,” Jimmy muttered.

“Look where his mother stashed him,” my father said bitterly. “In Plutonium City. It’s no wonder he’s got cancer.”

“Speaking of his mother,” I said, standing, “I want to ask Whip a few questions about that bitch.”

Whip looked better than the day before. Besides being cleaner and better dressed, his skin, as my father had said, had improved. His eyes also looked brighter, and I remembered the warm hugs he had given us upon our arrival. Clearly, Whip craved affection.

“Have you figured out why he’s mute?” I whispered to my dad as Jimmy filled Whip in on the backstory of the cartoon he was watching. Jimmy was something of a fanatic when it came to old cartoons and comic books. He had already bought us tickets for the next Comic-Con convention, which was to be held in Las Vegas. A pity—I could think of better cities I’d like to vacation in.

“I suspect his condition is the result of an emotional trauma,” my father replied. “While examining Whip’s lungs, I X-rayed his throat as well, and had a specialist scope the area. He has all the necessary equipment to talk.”

“Does he have any witch genes?” I asked.

“Five. I was impressed. He has an extremely high IQ. He’s five years old and can read at a high-school level.”

“It doesn’t look like he impressed his mother,” I said. “At least, not enough to keep him.”

“You’re sure Susan is his mother?” my father asked.

“I told you about the other Whip. I think she experimented on him to boost his number of witch genes.”

“You’re probably right. His tail has to be a mutation.”

“Our Whip has a tail he uses to write with,” I said. “Susan’s Whip has a tail with a stinger on it. Plus his eyes are spooky. Why are the two physically different?”

My father frowned. “I don’t know.”

“But you’ve seen this before. Where people look different in the different worlds?”

“Not to this degree, no,” my father said. “It’s a mystery.”

“It’s obvious she experimented on our Whip too. Then discarded him the moment she no longer had any use for him.” I paused. “I wish I could kill that bitch.”

My father was concerned. “Don’t go plotting any revenge just yet. You might feel powerful now but your abilities have only just begun to blossom.”

“You still haven’t explained what all those abilities are,” I complained. Every time I asked about my other genes, my father quickly changed the subject.

“It’s important they appear naturally,” he said.

“Why?” I insisted.

“Use one of them too soon and you can damage yourself in ways that can’t be healed.” Again he changed the subject on me by returning to Whip. “You said that Susan was fond of the witch-world version of her son?”

“She adored him. When he came in, it was the first time I saw her smile.”

Jimmy and Whip carried on together for the next twenty minutes. It was clear Jimmy was the boy’s favorite. I had to finally force my way between them. Sitting across from him, I asked if I could ask a few questions. Whip responded by grabbing his notepad and marking pen and writing out the word “yes.” All of his answers were supplied this way. He wrote blindingly fast.

“Whip,” I said. “Out in the desert, did anyone from Las Vegas besides Frankie visit you?”

No.

“Did you always live in the desert city?”

No.

“Did you used to live here?”

Whip lowered his head. His eyes appeared to dampen.

I used to live near here, in a house
, he wrote.

“Do you know the name of the town you lived in?”

Henderson.

I turned to Jimmy. “How far is Henderson from here?”

“Twenty minutes on the freeway.”

“Kari said that Huck was only twenty minutes away,” I said.

Jimmy was suddenly interested. “Should we take Whip for a drive around that area?” he asked.

“My thoughts exactly,” I said, turning back to Whip. “How long have you lived in the desert?” I asked.

Seventeen months, three days
, Whip wrote.

“Did you live with your mother before then?”

Whip hesitated.
Sometimes. When she wasn’t busy.

“Did she leave you with a babysitter when she was busy?”

With different people. They were mean.

“Do you know why she sent you out to the desert?”

Whip answered quickly, perhaps too quickly.
No.

“Did you do something that angered her?”

No.

“Are you sure?”

No. Yes.
Whip wiped at his eyes.
I don’t want to talk about her.

I patted his back. “I’m sorry. Tell me about the people you live with in the desert. Do you have any special friends?”

Clair and Bill
, he wrote.

“Are they kids like you?”

They are like you and Jimmy but not as pretty.

“Why do you say they’re not pretty?” I asked.

They have things growing on their body. Like really big warts. They keep growing.

“Does Frankie bring them food as well?”

I share some of my food with them. But they mainly eat from the food that’s dropped.

“What do you mean dropped?”

A helicopter drops bags of food.

“How often?”

Every few weeks.

“Are you the only one who’s brought special food?”

Yes.

“Maybe his mother does care for him,” my father observed.

I shook my head, not wanting to express my true feelings for Susan in front of the boy. “Whip,” I asked. “This is going to be a strange question but I want you to think real hard before answering it. Okay?”

I always think hard.

“Do you have any memories of living in another world?”

Whip didn’t write. He just stared at me. He nodded.

“What do you remember about this place?”

He wrote reluctantly.
Bad people live there.

“The Lapras?”

Yes.

“Do you feel different when you remember that place?”

I feel bad.

“You don’t like it?”

No. I’m bad there. I kill people.

“How do you kill people?” I asked.

Whip set down his marking pen and held up his tail.