Infiltration (22 page)

“—ne,” he finished, and staggered a little bit, off-balance. I had teleported us while he was speaking. (He had also been in the process of walking, which left his equilibrium a bit off when we appeared.)

Mouse came over, not wasting any time on small talk. “We’ve got a situation, and I need your opinion on whether magic’s involved.”

Mouse launched into an explanation of what was going on and our suspicions about magic playing a role in things. Rune seemed to be paying attention, but on an emotional level, he seemed to be a complete wreck. There was a mounting worry and dread in him that seemed to be growing by leaps and bounds. Moreover, it seemed to be taking a physical toll, because the unusual symbols that covered his body — and which were normally in motion — were completely still.

“Well,” he said, when Mouse had finally finished, “it certainly sounds as though a level of mysticism is involved. I shall endeavor to consult the proper portents to see if divination of these events presages an ill omen for all affected.”

As he spoke, Rune had casually but determinedly made his way to the door leading out of Mouse’s lab.

“And now,” he said, grabbing the handle and opening the door, “I go to commune with the esoteric. Good day.”

He exited, emotions still gyrating wildly, leaving us staring at the door as it closed behind him.

“What the…?” I began, more than a little perplexed. “Was it just me, or was that completely weird?”

“You mean what he said?” Mouse asked. “It wasn’t
completely
weird if you know Rune. I was more surprised to see him walk out of here. He uses the door less often than you do. Most times he just vanishes.”

“Well, let’s just hope he gets us an answer quickly,” BT said.

“I’m not exactly sure he said he’d give us one at all, but I’ll make sure he knows it’s a rush job,” I said.

I shifted into super speed and dashed out the door. Rune was walking down the hallway outside Mouse’s lab, away from me. I shifted back into normal speed.

“Hey, Rune,” I called out, jogging leisurely in his direction.

Rune glanced back at me, then turned face-forward again and walked around a corner, never breaking stride. I turned the corner, just a second or two behind him — and bumped into Dynamo. Rune was nowhere to be seen.

“Sorry,” I began. “I was looking for—”

I abruptly stopped speaking as, empathically, I felt a familiar surge of emotions coming from Dynamo: anxiety, dread, and more that — just minutes earlier — I had felt coming from Rune. Moreover, now that I looked him over, Dynamo was wearing Rune’s clothes.

The truth hit me like an uppercut from a heavyweight boxer: this wasn’t Rune
or
Dynamo. It was a shapeshifter!

Chapter 27

The shapeshifter had pulled a neat trick. Once around the corner, he had immediately changed his appearance. Most people only look at the faces of those they encounter, so even though I was right behind him and his clothes had not changed, he had been counting on my being fooled by a new face. It was actually a good strategy, and one that I, as a fellow shapeshifter, had used myself on occasion.

What he hadn’t banked on, however, was my ability as an empath — that I would see through his ruse because of his emotional broadcasts. He did, however, see the light of recognition in my eyes and instantly sensed that the jig was up.

The shapeshifter swung at my head. I phased, and the intended blow passed harmlessly through me, striking the wall with enough force to echo down the hallway. The shapeshifter screeched in pain, cradling the fist that had struck the wall with his good hand. Apparently, although he could mimic Dynamo’s appearance, he didn’t have his powers. Good to know.

I swung, putting a little extra zip into the blow and making my fist solid just before it connected with his chin. His head snapped to the side. I immediately teleported behind him, gripped his head in my hands, and smashed it into the wall hard enough to crack the plaster. Then I teleported back in front of him and planted a solid fist in his gut. All of the air came whooshing out of him, and I phased as he fell forward, passing through my insubstantial form and hitting the floor face-first. I was pretty sure he was unconscious, but I gave him a good kick in the ribs just to make sure, and then wrapped him in my power and teleported.

****************************************

“So,” Mouse said, looking at our prisoner, “we’ve been infiltrated.”

“Apparently,” I said.

Our shapeshifter was still unconscious, stretched out on a cot in a nullifier cell. A nullifier is a device that — as the name implies — nullifies super powers. Alpha League HQ had several cells equipped with them for those occasions when we had to hold supervillains. I had teleported the shapeshifter to one of them after coldcocking him in the hallway. I had then contacted Mouse, who had hustled over to join me, leaving BT in the lab.

The cell itself was essentially what you would expect, containing a cot, a sink, and a chair, along with floor-to-ceiling walls at the back and on both sides. However, whereas you would typically envisage bars at the front of an ordinary cell, ours contained a powerful force field.

Now that he was in a nullifier cell with his powers turned off, I could see what the shapeshifter actually looked like. He was a little shorter than me — maybe five-ten — and rather on the thin side. He was about fifty, with sparse, graying hair and an oversized nose. In short, he wasn’t particularly impressive.

In addition to tossing him into the nullifier cell, I had also taken the liberty of stripping him of his clothes and all personal effects. (Actually, I had simply teleported it all off him.) Thus, all he wore at the moment was a sleeveless white T-shirt and a pair of boxers with cartoon characters on them.

“His name’s Proteus, by the way,” Mouse said. “He’s a well-known shapeshifter, allegedly able to fool almost anybody.”

“I’ve heard of him,” I acknowledged. “And looking at the way he almost pulled a fast one on us, I’d say his reputation is well-deserved.”

“Well, with his subterfuge revealed, we at least have a better idea of what last night was about,” Mouse continued. “All of the destruction around town was probably to get as many supers as possible away from HQ. Then the attack on HQ itself was to distract anyone still here, allowing our friend here to sneak in.”

“A double distraction,” I said. “And apparently it worked — at least enough to get him in. We still don’t know exactly what he was after.”

“We may not
know
, but we do have some hints.”

With that, Mouse turned once again to the items I had removed from the shapeshifter after capturing him, all of which were laid out on a nearby table. He had already gone through them twice before, but if anything had caught his attention, he’d kept it to himself.

There was nothing special about the clothes, but I had found one of the beeping crystal bands (which was silent at the moment) on one of his wrists, as well as a watch on the other. Other than that, there were just some interesting odds and ends in his satchel, things that a junk dealer might have an interest in.

Mouse picked up one of the items from the satchel, an interesting curio that looked like a miniature seashell painted a funky shade of purple. It fit snugly in the palm of his hand.

“What are you thinking?” I asked.

“First and foremost,” he said, “why take on Rune’s appearance?”

I shrugged. “He’s the League member least likely to be present, maybe, decreasing the odds that you’ll be discovered.”

“I thought that, too, but there’s got to be more to it than that, and I think this shell is it.”

“What’s so special about it?”

“Remember our discussion earlier, about how it’s possible to get magical power from some objects?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, whenever we recover one of those items from a villain with mystical powers, we generally hand it over to Rune.”

“Of course. He’s the League member with the most experience with arcane objects, so he’s the best person to keep it safe.”

“Exactly, and — as far as I know — Rune has always had a habit of keeping such things in his room. Like this seashell.”

I was surprised. “That’s from Rune’s room?”

“I’m almost positive, unless there are two of them. But I’m sure I’ve seen this one before in his quarters. And it’s a safe bet” — he fumbled through some of the other items from the satchel — “that a number of these others are from there as well.”

“So our prisoner came here not just to infiltrate the place in general, but with a specific agenda that involved becoming Rune.”

“Yes. And I guess he was aware of the building’s layout since he knew where Rune’s room was.”

“Uh, maybe not,” I said. “Remember? He said he was injured and asked for help getting to his quarters.”

“So we basically showed him the way. Great.”

Before I could respond, there was a slight groaning from the nullifier cell. We both turned to look and saw Proteus rising groggily to his feet.

He massaged his jaw where I’d hit him, then froze suddenly like he’d been turned to stone. He looked at me and Mouse, and I could feel anxiety welling up in him. (This guy seemed to constantly be on edge.)

“How…how long have I been out?” he asked fearfully.

“About a half hour,” Mouse answered.

Proteus stared at him in shock, looking as though someone had just shoved him in front of a subway train. Without warning, he screamed and charged at the front of the nullifier cell.

“No! Wait!” Mouse exclaimed. “There’s a—”

Proteus hit the force field at the front of the cell with more force than I thought he was capable of. The force field yielded for a moment, bowing inward, and then pushed back out, flinging Proteus back across the cell. I was certain he’d had the wind knocked out of him, but he was on his feet again in a second, practically screaming.

“Please!” he screeched. “You have to get me out of here! You have to get me out of here
now
!”

“Actually, we don’t have to do anything,” Mouse said. “But answer our questions and we can make sure that you’re at least comfortable in there.”

“You don’t understand!” Proteus pleaded. “I can’t stay in here!”

He looked around at the walls like they were sprouting teeth to devour him with. His emotions were frothing over as I felt all kinds of stress gushing out from him empathically.

“What’s wrong with him?” I whispered to Mouse as Proteus continued muttering (to no one in particular) about needing to be released. I thought he’d been close to panic before, but his previous emotional state was the picture of calm compared to what he was going through now.

“I don’t know,” Mouse replied. “Maybe he’s claustrophobic.”

“Let me try something,” I said to Mouse. I reached out telepathically and peeked into Proteus’ brain. Then I asked my question.

“Why do you want to leave so badly?” I asked.

This was a trick my grandfather had taught me. Basically, when you ask someone a question that’s within their realm of knowledge, the answer appears unbidden in their mind. Thus, a telepath rarely needs for a person to respond verbally to a query; the answer usually flashes through their brain.

Such was the case with Proteus. And the answer I saw almost stunned me completely.

“Oh, crap!” I exclaimed after a moment, and then teleported away without giving Mouse any type of explanation.

I appeared in the hallway on the third sub-basement level that I’d retrieved the fake Rune from earlier. I dashed over to the door he’d been looking in when I’d appeared and snatched it open. It was a small maintenance closet.

I scanned the floor and saw almost immediately what I was looking for: a thumb-sized piece of glittering green crystal. I reached down, grabbed it, and then teleported to the middle of the bay.

I popped up floating above the water. I did a quick survey and noted that the only ship in the vicinity was a nearby oil tanker. I flung the crystal down into the water and then turned myself and the tanker insubstantial. (Much later, it would dawn on me that this was the first time I’d phased an object so massive — the first time I’d even attempted to — but at the time I didn’t give any thought to the challenge it represented.)

No more than five seconds later, there was a colossal smacking sound, as if an overweight giant had done a belly flop into the bay. It was a deafening crack that reverberated through the air, like the peal of a gong in a mountain temple.

At the same time, there was a gargantuan splash, like some monstrous but invisible force had hit the water, striking with such incredible force that there was no doubt in my mind that the oil tanker would have been flattened had I not phased it. Almost immediately, ripples surged radially outward from the area where I had thrown the crystal, then became massive, growing waves — an inland tsunami rushing towards the shore at impressive speed.

I was incredibly conflicted. I knew how catastrophic waves like this could be and felt an overwhelming desire to do something. At the same time, the Alpha League had just escaped a well-timed sneak attack by the skin of their teeth and were actually still in danger.