Authors: Kevin Hardman
Mutation (9 page)
Chapter 10
Most experts agree that the average streetfight lasts less than a minute. Those numbers usually have to be adjusted upwards for supers, but they were very much in line with what I’d gone through with Estrella’s team. It had felt like an eternity, but the time we spent actually engaged in combat (not counting the time I spent talking to Rudi) wasn’t particularly long at all - probably no more than three minutes, max.
Thus it was that, when I teleported back to my grandfather’s car, less than fifteen minutes had actually passed since Gray and I had been on the phone. I then spent a few moments zipping around the garage at high speed in order to locate the car keys I’d apparently dropped when Estrella’s team jumped me.
Surprisingly, mall security on an overall basis had done a better job than the individual efforts of the guards who had faced off with Estrella’s group. The parking garage was shut down - no ingress or egress - until the threat inside could be fully assessed. Of course, the prior threat was currently neutralized, but I didn’t bother telling them that.
Since I couldn’t drive myself home, I did the next best thing: I found a secluded corner and parked. I was about to teleport myself, car and all, back home when I caught a glimpse of myself in the rearview mirror. There was a blatantly obvious bruise where Estrella had backhanded me. I also didn’t doubt that there’d be a lot of discoloration around my chest and midsection as well. Moreover, with the adrenaline of the fight wearing off, I was starting to feel some acute discomfort, if not actual pain.
Frankly speaking, I wasn’t too worried. As a shapeshifter, I wouldn’t have any problem covering up bruises. In other words, I would appear to be fine aesthetically (which was great since Electra and I had a last-night-before-school-starts date set for later that evening). Subcutaneously, however, the injuries would still be there. And while I enjoyed a high metabolism that allowed for swift recuperation from most injuries, I still had to fuel that recovery through intake of the proper nutrients. In short, I needed to eat something - and a lot of it. I also needed information regarding Rudi’s mysterious one-word clue as to locating her: Chamomile.
So, food and information. Hmmm…there was one person who was ideal for providing both. I picked up my phone, which was still in the car’s cupholder, and called Braintrust.
*****
Braintrust, whom I usually referred to as “BT,” was a huge cluster of clones sharing a single hive mind. Along with my grandfather, BT had been responsible for much of my training over the years, and had had considerable influence in teaching me how to use my powers.
Historically, the BT clone who I’d dealt with had been male. Thus I had developed a habit of referring to BT as “he,” even though I knew he had clones of both genders. During a crisis a few weeks back, that particular clone had been killed. (Needless to say, “killed” was a relative term with respect to BT’s clones. As my grandfather had once put it, losing clones was, for BT, somewhat akin to a normal person getting a haircut.) Since then, the BT clone I’d been dealing with was a blond woman - a fact made more disconcerting by the fact that she was very attractive.
The blonde in question was waiting for me when I teleported my grandfather’s car into the garage of the house she was staying in. It was a place I’d been to before - a nondescript house in a middle-class neighborhood, just a small step down from the place where my family was currently living. (In fact, BT was the friend who’d provided us with the house where Mom, Gramps, and I currently resided.)
BT was standing in the doorway that led from the garage into the house. I got out of the car and approached her, extending a hand for her to shake (something I always did with the previous BT clone). She ignored it and instead gave me a hug and a peck on the cheek. I blushed, but BT didn’t seem to notice. I had completely forgotten that BT’s clones are all tempered to act the same way normal individuals would in society. Thus, his female clones were apt to be less formal (which explained why I got a hug instead of a handshake).
She turned and walked into the house. I followed, passing through a small utility room housing a washer and dryer before going through another door into the kitchen. BT pointed to a nearby counter, where a loaf of bread, some prepackaged sandwich meat, a bag of chips, and a two-liter bottle of soda sat.
“Sorry,” BT said, “I don’t have anything prepared. I wasn’t expecting you until later.”
I simply nodded in acknowledgement. Ordinarily, if BT knows I’m coming, there will be a buffet laid out for me, with everything from steak to prime rib. This being my last day before heading to the Academy, I had already made plans to come by, but had shown up earlier than anticipated.
I shifted into super speed, then made and wolfed down three hearty sandwiches - along with the bag of chips and half a liter of soda - in record time. I slowed back down to normal speed after making the fourth, intending to eat it at a more leisurely pace.
“So,” BT said, “you didn’t give a lot of detail on the phone - just that you’d had a run-in with some people and were hungry. Care to elaborate?”
I nodded, and - between bites - brought her up to speed on the day’s events.
“Well, I’ll give you this much,” BT said when I finished, “you definitely punch your weight. I’m not saying the rest of her team was paltry, but Estrella’s a class apart.”
“Really?” I was admittedly a little surprised. She had some impressive powers, but nothing I hadn’t seen before (although not exactly in that combination). “What makes her so special?”
“You’re kidding, right? You do know what her name means?” BT asked.
“It means ‘star’ in Spanish,” I said, happy to have finally gotten some use out of two years of foreign language classes.
“And that’s exactly what she is. She’s literally a living star. So, aside from the A-Level powers such as flight, super strength, and teleportation, she’s also got lasers and heat, among other things. She’s the sun personified - a walking, talking fusion reactor.”
“Hmmm…so how would you beat someone like that?”
“Why, are you worried she might come after you?”
I shrugged noncommittally.
“I wouldn’t worry too much about it. First of all, your friend the precog said you could carry on as usual. If she’s as good as you say - and you trust her - then it’s almost guaranteed that Estrella won’t seek you out. Even more, she’s completely mercenary. Although her brother got hurt, Estrella’s not coming after you unless there’s a payday in it for her - presumably one separate and apart from whatever she received to come after you today. That said, I don’t think she’d be above seeking a little payback if your paths happen to cross at some point. But beyond that, you should be fine.”
“Still though, how would I take her down if I had to?”
“How do you beat the sun?” BT asked rhetorically, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “You can’t. It just has to die on its own.”
“So, stars do die, then?”
“Of course. Everything dies eventually.”
“How does it happen? For stars, I mean.”
“Well, stars have a dense core that results from the fusion reactions taking place inside them. When the core becomes dense enough, the star collapses under its own weight. Eventually it goes supernova - it blows up in a gigantic explosion that’s brighter than an entire galaxy.”
A nauseating thought suddenly occurred to me. “Is-is that what’s going to happen to our sun?”
“Of course; it happens to every star.” BT must have noticed the look of consternation on my face, because she went on. “Of course, that process of exploding isn’t something that takes place overnight. It might take ten thousand years or more for the star to go supernova once the process begins.”
I almost laughed. “So, if Estrella gets it into her head to come after me, about the only thing that can stop her is a natural process that may take ten millennia to complete.”
“Essentially, yes. But while her bodily processes duplicate those in a star, she’s still a human being, so the time differential for how fast the supernova process occurs might be different.”
“Faster, you mean.”
BT shrugged. “Might be faster, could possibly be slower.”
“Great,” I said sarcastically. “That’s just great.”
“There’s also another option. As powerful as she is, I still doubt that she’s a match for Alpha Prime. He could probably–”
“Forget it,” I stated forcefully, cutting her off. I’d rather roast in the fires of Gehenna than ask my father for help. “Besides, this is all just theoretical. I may never even see Estrella again.”
“Good point,” BT noted, nodding in acquiescence.
“Now, what about Rudi and that clue she gave me - Chamomile?”
“Chamomile’s a code name for a special government black ops program. It’s actually an umbrella slate that encompasses a number of covert agendas, some of which relate to supers and their powers.”
“Can you find out where it’s located? Or more specifically, where they’re holding Rudi and her brother?”
“Not a problem, but it may take some time.”
I nodded in acknowledgement, but wasn’t too worried. Information was BT’s stock in trade. There was very little that he - excuse me,
she
- didn’t know or couldn’t find out. On top of that, she was amazingly smart - probably the smartest person I knew outside of Mouse. The thought put me in mind of Vixen’s request.
Inspiration hit me like a lightning bolt, and I started telling BT about my brilliant Alpha League mentor.
Chapter 11
I drove straight home after leaving BT’s place. Again, there was a certain excitement that came from sitting behind the wheel, and not all of it was due to the fact that I was driving without a license. Learning to drive made me feel…mature, I suppose. Like I was passing out of adolescence and entering the next phase of development - not exactly an “adult,” so “young adult,” I guess, would be the proper terminology.
The new clothes that I had purchased passed muster, getting a big thumbs-up from Mom. After carrying it all up to my room, I tore the tags off everything and packed it all away.
As it was my last day before leaving, I had initially thought it appropriate to spend it with my family. However, Mom and Gramps wouldn’t hear of it.
“It’s your last night before school begins,” my grandfather had said. “You should be spending it with your friends, enjoying that last bit of freedom.”
“But I won’t see you and Mom for months,” I’d replied. “I’ll be seeing those other guys every day.”
“Still,” Mom had tacked on, “it’ll do you some good to get out and have some fun. You don’t want to start off the school year with a reputation of being a mama’s boy who stayed inside on the last day of summer instead of going to play with the other kids.”
In the end, we settled on a compromise: I would have an early dinner with my family, and then go out. Thus, I had eventually set up a date with Electra for later.
Dinner itself turned out to be a couple of my favorites. The main course was smothered steak with rice and gravy, followed by brownie
a la mode
for dessert. Because Mom rarely ever uses her powers, the three of us usually converse verbally, but – for once – that manner of discourse was kept to a minimum as we telepathically had a very lively discussion during dinner. For instance, Gramps shared anecdotes from when Mom was a child, while she told how her stern father morphed into a pushover once a grandchild was added to the mix. As I mentioned before, though, communication between telepaths is far more than just words, and the meal ended with me feeling even closer to my mother and grandfather than usual, which is saying quite a lot.
*****
Following dinner, Mom took on the task of washing the dishes, leaving me and Gramps to have some time to ourselves.
At this juncture, my grandfather knew me almost as well as I knew myself, so I didn’t even bother asking how he knew something was wrong. Instead, I just conveyed to him what had happened at the mall.
Mentally, my grandfather slapped his knee in laughter.
When I didn’t say anything, he went on.
I burst out laughing at that last one.
He hesitated for a moment before speaking.
This little speech had the effect, as he probably knew, of making me feel a whole lot better.
I nodded in acknowledgement, but still had a warm fuzzy from my grandfather’s words of encouragement.
