Metawars: The Complete Series: Trance, Changeling, Tempest, Chimera (13 page)

A pleasant warmth all along my back greeted me as I woke, and I was grateful for it. Grateful to Gage for being there last night, and even more grateful that he was still there in the morning. I held onto the moment of pure contentment as long as possible, unsure I’d get it again.

Until my very full bladder forced me out of bed.

The dream stayed vividly on my mind during breakfast. I didn’t mention it to Gage. Getting the wrong powers was no accident, I felt certain of that now. Had this woman I dreamed of taken them away? Been responsible for giving them back?

No one truly knew how the first MetaHumans received their powers. Reports of people with superhuman powers existed as far back as the American Civil War. The Pinkertons employed Metas, and some historians have argued that Billy the Kid and Harry Houdini were Metas. As our numbers grew in the early part of the twentieth century, so did our notoriety.

It wasn’t until our people were formally asked for help during the First World War that the divisions between us took hold, and it planted the seeds of what would become the schism between MHC’s Ranger Corps and the more nebulous “bad guy” Banes. And, while we could narrow down the start of the Rangers and Banes, we still didn’t know where Metas came from to begin with; no one seemed to know the source of it all. God. Radiation. Space aliens. Evolution. The words held no real meaning; they didn’t rationalize what we were, or why we existed. We did, we didn’t, we did again.

Dr. Seward came in as we finished eating breakfast. I half expected to see William at his side, as he’d been every other time. Then I remembered that he was in New York with Renee. “Sleep well, Trance?”

“Pretty well, yeah.” Except for the strange dream.

“All of your vitals have returned to normal levels, so you’re free to return to your room. I would like you to come back after lunch for some tests.”

“What kind of tests?”

“I want to see how your body reacts to the use of your powers and study its absorption rate. Your electrolyte levels were dangerously low yesterday, which is one of the reasons you felt so sick. If we can figure out a way to supplement your system with nutrients, it won’t be as dangerous for you to use your powers when you need to.”

“So we
are
rewiring the lamp.” Maybe I wasn’t dying after all. That would be great.

He nodded. “Over time, your body may adapt, but it also may not. This isn’t a cure, just a trial run. You still need to limit your power usage today, until we run our tests.”

“I will try, I swear.”

“I’ll keep an eye on her,” Gage said.

I did not need a babysitter. “How’s Frost?”

“Still in a coma,” Dr. Seward replied. “There’s little we can do for her now, except wait and hope.”

“Can I see her?”

“Of course.”

Janel “Frost” Murphy looked like a ghost against the stark white bedsheets. Her silver hair framed her narrow face in a limp curtain. Deep purple bruises shadowed the skin below her eyes, the only noticeable color on her face. Bandages covered her throat and arms, leaving just a few patches of translucent skin visible.

I shivered and could see my breath in the room. Janel liked cold; the temperature must have been to keep her comfortable. I wanted to hold her hand, but was afraid. Her cold skin would only get me thinking she was dead, and I didn’t want to think that way. We needed her.

I remembered the tall, timid twelve-year-old she’d been those last few weeks before being sent to New York. She’d mastered her power over ice by the age of nine, but she resisted using it. She’d given Mellie severe frostbite the year before, when she first heard that her father had been killed in battle. No one blamed her for the accident, but Janel blamed herself. She tried to withdraw from the rest of us. Renee refused to let her. She and I smothered Janel with friendship and understanding, and after a few months, Janel started smiling again. She taught me how to French-braid my hair. And she fought so bravely that day in Central Park.

“We should have protected her,” I said.

“We had no way of knowing,” Gage replied, standing by my left shoulder. “They got there as fast as they could. She survived this long, Teresa. She’ll make it through.”

“There has to be a way to stop Specter, to keep him from doing this again.”

“And we’ll find it. You know that.”

“I don’t know that.” Had that really just come out of my mouth? “I really, truly wish I did, Gage, but I don’t. This is the most bizarre situation we’ve ever been in. We can’t track Specter. We can’t fight him because he always attacks in someone else’s body. So far he’s forced us to kill everyone he’s possessed. And the minute defenses around Manhattan Island break down, we’re royally screwed.”

“I know all that, Teresa. It doesn’t mean we can’t win.” Gage tugged my hand and tilted my chin until I looked up at him. “I need you to believe we can win. That you’re going to live a long, happy life, and that we’ll
win
.”

My stomach quaked. I wanted so much to live a long life, to grow old and crotchety and eccentric. For Gage and Renee and Marco and the others to look back on this moment forty years from now and laugh at our worries. The lovely dream lingered in the shadows of my mind, with distant knowledge that I had some unfulfilled path yet to walk. A path Gage could not follow me down.

“I believe that you believe it,” I said. “Can that be enough for now?”

“It’ll have to be, I guess.”

He didn’t like my answer—I saw it in the downturn of his mouth and slant of his eyebrows. Why couldn’t I just lie and pretend I believed it? For Gage’s sake. He didn’t look at me like a prize to be won or body to be conquered. He’d given me friendship and loyalty from the start, and I hated hurting him. He’d had enough hurt in his life without me compounding it—we both had—but I couldn’t bring myself to lie. Lying felt like a worse sin than not believing.

“So what do we do now?” I asked.

“That’s supposed to be my question, boss,” Gage said.

Surprised, I looked up—at the twinkle in his eyes and the broad smile. He was looking at me to lead, even though I couldn’t see our path any more clearly than he could. I was chosen—not only by my fellow Rangers, but by something bigger than any of us.

Lucky me.

“Do we have satellite coverage in this place?” I asked.

“In the conference room, I think.”

“Good. I want to know what’s happening in New York.”

“Then, let’s go find out.”

A
strange man and woman sat inside the conference room. I tensed, immediately checking their eyes for signs of yellow light. They didn’t appear bothered by our arrival; in fact, they seemed to be expecting us.

The woman was older, in her late fifties, with immaculate silver-blond hair that seemed shellacked into place. She wore a plain blue business suit and skirt, and she had a black briefcase on the table in front of her. Her companion, a weasel of a man in an expensive black suit and an unfortunate comb-over, stood up as we entered. He had to be six inches shorter than me (and I’m not very tall) with an air of authority that demanded immediate attention. They made me wish Gage and I were in something other than blue jeans.

“Good morning, Trance,” the man said. “Good morning, Cipher. It’s good to meet both of you.”

I remained partially in front of Gage and didn’t move from the door’s entrance. “I’d say it’s good to meet you, too, only I don’t know who you are.”

“Direct and suspicious, I like that,” the woman said. She had an accent, something of a New England snarl.

“Glad you approve.”

Gage’s hand squeezed my elbow, and I reined in the sarcasm. These folks had been given permission to come onto the property, so they were potential allies. I just had a thing about unannounced guests who smelled like federal agents.

The gentleman said, “My name is Agent Alexander Grayson. This is my partner, Agent Rita McNally.”

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.”