The Age Atomic (29 page)

 

FIFTY-FOUR

 

Kane pushed himself up from the floor. As he moved, the lines of power connecting him to Evelyn snapped tight, sending white-hot pain flickering across his whole body. He gritted his teeth, focused on the pain, concentrated on the tugging sensation at the base of his spine.

The power of the Fissure, the power he had nearly exhausted defending his friends in the Empire State – it was here, now, in this room, in the portal to his home city open behind him and in the wraith floating in the air in front of him. And she was falling, slipping away from the world.

Kane reached out towards her. He understood the power, understood how to control it, to make it his, to wield the blue light of the gap between universes, shaping it, molding it for his own use. He had disturbed the balance, coming here; he was an unexpected guest, a future
she
could not see. Because they were alike, the two of them. No longer people, just parts of the Fissure, two sides of the same coin.

Kane summoned his strength, pulling energy from the window to Soma Street, pulling energy from Evelyn McHale's quantum event horizon. It was like flying in the air above Grand Central, as easy as pie.

But he needed more, a lot more. Evelyn did too, but she was going to kill millions of people to do it, just to stay in the world, a place she didn't even want to be.

There was another way.

Kane stood and Evelyn screamed. He saw fear on her face, desperate and cold and black; it was bottomless despair, the expression of the damned.

He turned, and saw Rad and Mr Grieves and Captain Nimrod, frozen in time.

No, not frozen. Time moved on, but Kane had sidestepped it, jumping off the track. Kane had all the time in the world, the countdown to destruction paused at four seconds forever.

Kane looked into the workings of the fusor reactors that powered the army. Despite his being outside of time there was still movement within, the quantum states of the subatomic particles flipping back and forth, back and forth, like they couldn't quite decide which state was best. It was the Fissure and the two universes, the Pocket and the Origin, slammed together in the underground chamber, Kane knew that. Each universe was incompatible with the other, not enough for anything cataclysmic, but enough to make things difficult.

Kane cancelled the countdown and stepped back into the time track. The fusor reactor in each robot flashed white and then the red spinning power within was slower, calmer, duller.

One.

The countdown clock clacked to zero, and stopped. There was no explosion, no atomic end of New York. The torus reactor hummed, and the robots stayed exactly where they were.

Evelyn flickered and she wasn't quite there, not anymore. Kane watched her face, watched the fear. Then the factory flared blue as he was pulled by her gravity back out of time, into the interstitial nothingness.

None of this was her fault. She hadn't wanted to come back. All she'd wanted to do was die, properly, the pain of existence too much. But now she had slipped and was scrambling to get hold once more, and she couldn't.

Kane was falling too, slipping away from time and space, dragged down by her. He'd used up what energy he could tap in the room. There was no more. And with the countdown stopped, there would be no more for Evelyn either. Together they would fall, forever.

Kane took a step forward. It was harder than he expected. His event horizon was locked to Evelyn's as they sank down through the foundations of space/time together into a dark place without end. Her eyes were on his, and she didn't move, couldn't move. She faded again, and Kane felt the pain in his spine.

She didn't deserve her fate, and Kane didn't want to join her, but he needed help. Perhaps there was some power left, some scrap to cling to, something he could use or direct.

A plan formed in his mind. A desperate one, one that he wasn't sure was even possible. But he had to try.

Kane reached out, his mind brushing another. A person he could trust, who would do his all, his level best, Kane knew. And Kane smiled.

“Rad?”

“Kane,” said the detective behind him. “I… what's going on?”

Kane shook his head, keeping his eyes on Evelyn. “I need your help, old buddy. We don't have much time. I need power.”

“I don't understand. Where are we? Everything's, ah, blue.”

Kane kept his voice level, and he spoke slowly and clearly. The countdown to atomic annihilation might have stopped, but Kane and Evelyn were teetering on the edge of oblivion.

“We're in the factory. I've pulled you sideways out of time. I need your help. I've given you a little of the Fissure's power, but I need more. Much more. Evelyn and I are locked together. I can't do it on my own.”

“Where's Byron?”

A beat. “Byron is gone.”

“Gone? Gone where?”

“Just gone,” said Kane. “Rad, I need your help here.”

Rad stepped forward slowly until he was level with Kane. Kane glanced sideways at him, and saw Rad with his hands in front of his face, looking them over as a moving blue aura crackled around them. Rad's eyes were wide as he looked at his friend. “OK. Tell me what to do.”

Kane managed a weak smile. Then he slid to his knees. With some of the Fissure's power syphoned over to Rad, the pain running down his back was brutal, white-hot. The fall was imminent.

“Elektro,” Kane said, and from behind Evelyn the metal man stepped out, red eyes rolling. A whining came from its voice unit, like a radio stuck between stations. “The robot, Rad. Take the fusor and give it to me.”

Rad stared at the robot, then at his hands.

“Kane, I–”

“Trust me, Rad! Do it!” Kane collapsed onto the floor.

He watched as Rad rolled his shoulders and walked towards Elektro, hands outstretched. The robot backed away, but the movement was jerky, like it was pulling against something. Then Rad was standing in front of the machine, the top of his hat coming not quite to the robot's chin.

The fusor spun lazily in Elektro's chest, the red light mixing with the blue glow of the room outside of time. Rad reached forward, his hands almost touching the robot's chest.

Elektro was fast. Rad cried out as both wrists were gripped by the robot's massive metal hands. Elektro leaned forward, forcing Rad to his knees. Rad cried out again, his face contorted in agony.

“You're gonna have to do better than that, friend,” said Elektro. It pushed again, and Rad moaned as he was released. The detective toppled sideways to the floor as the robot straightened up and turned to Kane.

Kane shuddered, the pain too much, and the factory flickered into monochrome as he fell through the gap between now and now and returned to the world. The hum of the torus reactor seemed as loud as a hurricane and the footsteps of Elektro like collapsing mountains as it strode towards him.

A blurry shape flashed an inch past Kane's face, something dark green and flowing, a woman in a long coat, her tall black boots shining beneath the tails, her golden face reflecting the glow of Elektro's red eyes.

The robot stopped but Jennifer didn't pause. She powered towards the machine, pulling back her right arm like she was about to loose an arrow.

“I picked this up from a friend,” she said. “Sometimes a punch can save the world.”

Her fist connected with Elektro's jaw and kept going, tearing the steel apart and turning the robot's head into a twisted clump of scrap metal. Elektro whined from somewhere inside his torso, as loud as a jet engine, and fell backwards to the floor. Jennifer straddled the machine's frame as it twitched on the ground; reaching down, she yanked the chest plate off and pulled the fusor reactor out.

“Jennifer?”

As Kane watched, powerless even to rise from the floor, Rad got to his knees and then to his feet. Jennifer held the fusor reactor up and stared into its glowing heart. She looked mesmerized by the light, and if she saw Rad coming toward her, Kane couldn't tell.

Then she fell, telescoping straight down, the fusor leaving her hands as they dropped away.

Rad was fast and his face was a grimace of determination. He grabbed the fusor before it was halfway to the floor. Then, as he fell over Jennifer's body, he shouted something. What, Kane couldn't tell over the ocean of noise in his head, but craning his neck he saw Rad toss the fusor reactor like a football towards him.

This was it. One chance. With a cry, Kane concentrated and pushed at the world, willing the power to rise from somewhere inside him, where the Fissure was hidden. He forced himself to stand; as he did, Evelyn screamed and flickered.

Kane caught the fusor. The light within was red and orange and warm and even holding the device was enough to invigorate him. Then he looked up at Evelyn.

“I don't want to fall,” said the Ghost of Gotham. She held out her hand to Kane, her blue glow almost extinguished, leaving her grey and cold, an afterimage burned into the universe on that May morning in 1947.

Kane smiled. “Neither do I.” And then he tore off the glass cap of the fusor reactor. He summoned the last ember of his power and gave the ions within a little push, setting the reactor to destruct as the delicate balance within was disturbed. With one hand he pressed the cylinder to his chest as the device began to whine, the tone higher and higher, and he walked towards Evelyn. He took her hand, feeling pins and needles as their skin touched. He drew her into an embrace. And then she understood. She relaxed in his arms, resting her head on his shoulder, her feet touching the ground.

“I remember that day,” she said softly. “I thought I could fly.”

Kane smiled. “So did I, once.” He pulled her close and they walked to the portal, to Soma Street, passing through the assembled robots like they were smoke. Time slowed. Kane could feel the heartbeat in his chest and he thought he could feel the heartbeat in hers too, but he wasn't sure.

They stood over the threshold, one foot in New York, one foot in the Empire State, standing in neither.

Kane held Evelyn and Evelyn screamed, screamed as she fell from the top of the tallest building in New York, her clothes caught in the wind, the wind that wrenched the shoes from her feet, that tore her stockings but that couldn't take her hand from the pearls around her neck, the pearls she held onto until the very end.

Kane held Evelyn and Elektro's heart detonated.

 

FIFTY-FIVE

 

Rad cried out. He rolled on his side and remembered the woman with blue eyes falling from a tall building. Then he looked up. The ground was cold, freezing, and the sign that shone in the icy air said Soma Street.

He jerked up, his head pounding. Someone said “Easy, tiger,” and a hand pressed down on his chest. He blinked, clearing his vision, and saw Mr Grieves looking down at him, standing in a sea of silver men.

Rad cried out again, and spun around on the floor. Soma Street was to his left, close enough to touch. The army of robots was on his right, impossibly tall from his position on the floor. Lying next to him was Jennifer, face down and very still. Of Kane and the woman with blue eyes there was no sign, but when he blinked he saw their outlines moving, right on the border between the two universes. It looked like they were dancing, dancing until the end of the world, but Rad blinked again and they were gone and maybe it had been his imagination anyway.

Rad winced. He hurt all over. His head felt like it was going to explode. He turned his attention to Jennifer, his hands on her shoulders. She didn't respond, but Rad felt her body gently move. She was breathing, at least.

“What in the hell?” he asked of no one in particular, but Grieves moved away as a familiar laugh barked out.

“Welcome back, Mr Bradley,” said Nimrod. He was standing by the torus reactor, now dark, silent. He looked tired, his face slick with sweat and his safari jacket a little crooked, but he was alive and standing with his hands clasped behind his back.

“Son of a
bitch
,” said Rad, pulling himself to his feet with a little help from Mr Grieves. “What happened? Where's Kane and the blue lady? And why aren't we dead?”

He turned to look into the Empire State. The portal that formed the wall of the factory was as large as ever but different somehow; the edge of it, where one universe cut into another, was not torn and flickering as it had been before, but a solid blue outline, curved and bold. It was still cold, standing so close to the winter city, but the wind was gone. Soma Street was still, quiet, like the robots surrounding Rad.

“The portal is quite stable. We have Mr Fortuna to thank for that, and Evelyn, of course. But I think you and Jennifer saved us all.”

Rad looked at Mr Grieves, but the agent just shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck like he'd just gone two rounds with someone a little bigger than he was.

“I remember,” said Rad, turning on his heel to survey the factory. “The robots were counting down to the end of the world. Kane stopped them but it was too much for him. Said he was locked to McHale and couldn't do a thing.”

“You spoke to him?” asked Nimrod. “Fascinating.”

Rad nodded. “Said he needed my help. He gave me a little touch of the power he carried, but… I guess it was too much. He asked me to take out Elektro, but I couldn't. The robot was too strong.”

Nimrod walked forward, and Rad jumped back as the two robots immediately behind him stepped with him in time. Nimrod clapped his hands, rubbing them together like he was starting a fire between his palms.

“Fret not, detective. While you two were out for the count I had a look at the master control circuit.” Nimrod gestured to the control panel underneath the torus reactor. “This army is now mine.”

“Uh-huh,” said Rad. He eyed the robots. There was something about the way Nimrod seemed so pleased to be in command that he didn't like, not this time. There was a hardness in the old man's eyes when he said it.

Jennifer moaned. Rad dropped to his knee and helped her sit up.

“Kane was the key,” Nimrod said, watching the pair. “Evelyn couldn't see his timeline because, like her, he existed outside of the world. They were two sides of the same space-time event.”

Grieves loosened his tie. “The Fissure?”

“Precisely,” said Nimrod. “Polar opposites, perfectly balanced. They fed off each other.”

“But the Fissure was inside Kane,” said Rad. He pointed to the portal to Soma Street. “How could both sides be here, in New York?”

“They couldn't,” said Nimrod. “He pushed Evelyn off her axis, and she began to fall, dragging him down. He realized this, from what you say, which is why he needed your help to tap into another power source. The injection of energy from the fusor reactor was enough to pull them both back up so the convergence could be complete. Two became one, the opposite sides of the Fissure balancing once more.
Et, voilà
.”

Nimrod spread his arms open like a showman as he stood in front of the giant portal to the Empire State. Rad moved forward, expecting to feel the buzz-saw vibration, but there was nothing. Nimrod glanced sideways at him and chuckled.

“It's quite stable. The Pocket and the Origin are not merely tethered, they are tightly bound together.”

Jennifer sighed and rubbed the back of her head.

“That was quite a punch you threw,” said Rad.

“I followed your lead on that one,” she said with a small laugh.

“Are you OK? You tore up Elektro but then collapsed.”

Jennifer nodded and rolled her neck. “I think so. I heard you from outside. Sounded like you needed help, so… I just ran.” She flexed the fingers of her right hand. “I guess I'm stronger than I look. But that was all I had in me and it was lights out.” She looked around. “I take it it worked.”

Rad nodded. “We wouldn't be here without you, so thanks. With your brother out there…”

“Stop,” Jennifer waved Rad off. “Didn't seem much point wishing I could get James fixed if the world ended, right?”

“True enough,” said Rad. Then he saw his hat on the floor. He scooped it up and put it on. The band was cold against his skin. “And Kane?” He turned to Nimrod. “He's dead, I take it?”

Nimrod's mustache rolled under his nose as he surveyed the blue boundary of the portal. “I don't think he was ever alive, not really.”

“Never alive?”

“Well,” said Nimrod, waving his hands. “Alive, in a sense, the same as the Fissure is alive. But like Evelyn, it wasn't him. He was an echo, an afterimage.”

Rad nodded. “A ghost. Like her?”

“Indeed. Evelyn McHale died in 1947 at the bottom of the Empire State Building. The Director of Atoms for Peace was not the same woman, not really.”

Rad pondered this, but it all seemed too big, too dreamlike. He wasn't really sure Nimrod knew as much as he claimed, and while there was an empty sadness at the thought that Kane had never come back to the Empire State, not really, there was a calmness too, melancholic and cool but one that filled Rad with a kind of nervous hope.

He turned to Soma Street, to the Empire State. To his home.

“Sir!”

Rad turned as two of Nimrod's agents rushed in, the same men Grieves had left to help up top. Nimrod frowned.

“Yes?”

“It's Carson, sir,” said the agent in front.

Rad froze. “What about him?”

“He's in a bad way. He said to get Captain Nimrod.”

Rad turned to Nimrod. Nimrod brushed his mustache with the back of a thick finger.