The Suns of Liberty: Legion: A Superhero Novel (32 page)

     But as Spectral minutely shifted its molecules from
wave toward particle, from light toward matter, from invisible to visible, Conroy
became hyperaware of the android’s presence. In fact, he screamed it out at the
top of his lungs...with the camera running—catching it all in digital glory.

     Conroy fell silent. No longer among the conscious.  

     Spectral phased back to light-form and pulled its arm
out of the man’s body, then phased back to matter. As Conroy slumped toward the
floor, Spectral’s strong arm caught his shoulder and held his unconscious body
up. The ordeal was over.

     “Damn it!” yelled Fiddler.

     Arbor turned and gave him a questioning stare.

     “I was really hoping to kill someone,” he said sadly.

     Fiddler glanced over at the cameraman, eyeing him like
he was a juicy steak—and the cameraman’s eyes went wide as saucers.

     Arbor turned away, shaking his head, watching as
Spectral easily lifted Walter Conroy’s unconscious body in its arms and carried
him over to Arbor.

     Just then, Ray stopped in his tracks. He just stared
at the RDSD. “Wait a minute,” he breathed.

     “What?” Arbor asked.

     Spectral’s eyes glowed white, and the machine spoke.

Spectral said, calling Kendrick Ray by the name he had been instructed to
address him by during the mission,
weapons on the premises.
> 

     “Well sure, the cops, the military,” said Veronica.

     “No, not exactly. This is something else,” Ray said,
peering up at Arbor.

    
“Bombs.”
Both Ray and Spectral had spoken the
word simultaneously in two very different voices. The two stared at each other,
amused or horrified, it was hard to tell which. Actually, it was both for Ray—it
was stepping on his turf. Spectral nodded at him. Ray grimaced at the big machine
and turned back toward Arbor.

     “It’s a set up,” said Ray.

     “Bloody genius! Meant to blow them all to kingdom
come,” Fiddler chuckled, gazing at the unconscious man approvingly.

     Arbor, losing his patience, gave him a hard stare and
then traced his eyes toward the camera that was still rolling, and back again.

     “The bastard!” Fiddler added.

     Fang grunted a chuckle behind him.

     “How long do we have, can you tell?” Arbor asked both
Ray and Spectral.

     “Less than five minutes,” Ray said.

     “Where are the bombs?” Veronica asked.

     “In the planters, right outside. Two of them,” Ray
said, pointing dead ahead of them and lifting his face from the RDSD. His mouth
formed a grimace.

     They could see them.

     Veronica perked up. Her body stiffened.

     “No way,” said Arbor, reading her face.

     “I can get them, I can clear the city,” Veronica
protested.

     “Yeah, but even if you can, we don’t know how much
honey’s in the honeycomb.”

     “They look
big
,” Ray warned. “Half a ton,
maybe, between them. Digital base, digital shielding. Sophisticated. It’ll even
be hard for
you
to get through it,” Ray said, eyeing Scarlett.

     “Who was this guy again?” Veronica asked. She was no
expert, but it sounded like military-grade explosives.

     “Try,” Arbor said to Scarlett, who nodded. “Can you
block the blast if it comes down to it?” he asked Spectral.

    
that I will redirect the blast. An important distinction.>

     “Whatever. Can you keep it from blowing little Johnny
news man and those badge boys to bits, is all I wanna know,” Arbor said. He
turned and walked toward the entrance and the planters.

     Spectral did not respond.

     They all followed. When they got to the doors Arbor
sent Veronica, Fiddler, and Ray away with the still-sleeping Conroy and his
hostages. Then the big man turned on the loudspeaker in his armor and announced
to the crowd that they had discovered explosive devices and that they were all
ordered to back up. Arbor knew he should have ordered them all to evacuate the
lot, but he wanted witnesses, and he damn sure wanted this on film.

     Assuming everything went well, that was.

     Meanwhile, the minutes ticked away as the crowd made
their slow retreat.

     The concrete planters were big. Taller than a normal
man, taller than any of them. Fang and Arbor could have easily fit inside one of
them together, despite their bulky armor.

     Scarlett closed her eyes and concentrated.

     “Do you have it?” Arbor asked her finally. He knew the
clock was ticking. In fact, inside his helmet, his internal clock read that
just over four minutes had already passed since Ray had announced they had less
than five minutes left.

     “Yes, but I’m having trouble getting through the
shielding. Very sophisticated.”

     “Can’t you just disable it?”

     “That’s what I’m trying to do. Let me concentrate!”

     Arbor turned to Fang, who shot to attention. “Stay
close. If one of these blows, we have to try and block the shockwave.” Arbor
blanched when the big man actually smiled at that.  Did the big oaf even know
what he was talking about, or was he really that messed up in the head?

    
Hard to tell. Pretty much fifty-fifty
, Arbor
thought.

     Arbor glanced over at Spectral. The big machine was
focused on the other planter. Its eyes were glowing white, indicating it was
doing some kind of a scan.

     “Can you see it?” Arbor asked Spectral.

    
have seventeen seconds.>

     “Rage!” Arbor yelled, spinning back toward Scarlett.
He really did not want to have to try and block this blast. It would look great
on camera, but at what cost?

     “I’m through!” Scarlett yelled. She closed her eyes
tighter.

     “Done,” Scarlett breathed and turned her attention to
the second bomb and closed her eyes.

    

Spectral’s eyes grew dark
again, and the big robot stepped in front of Scarlett. Arbor was unsure whether
the android would block Scarlett’s transmitter, but he realized in that split
instance that it didn’t matter. The super-computer robot had just deduced that
the bomb would explode and was preparing to block Scarlett from the blast. His
programming required him to do so, unless she commanded otherwise.

     Just how in the hell had she taken possession of
possibly the most useful weapon the Council had at their disposal? A question
to explore later...

     “Fang, get ready!” Arbor yelled and spread his arms
wide. The other big man in the big white impact suit turned and spread his arms
out just like Arbor was doing. Just like Spectral was doing.

    
BOOM!                       

     A massive fireball mushroomed out of the planter, spewing
concrete across the pavement just ahead of the fire. The energy rocked the parking
lot. Even standing at the back of the lot, bystanders could feel the vibrations
in their chest and under their feet. Ears immediately rang.

     But as its energy reached the line of Legion members,
it seemed to ricochet, like a wave hitting a wall. Arbor was prepared for
serious pain, so was Fang.

    
But it didn’t come.

     Instead, the energy, fire, and flame rode an invisible
current up into the sky right in front of them. Arbor stared at it, open
mouthed.

     The mall was not so lucky. The blast that would have
spanned out into the throng of reporters and police instead was sent crashing
into the shopping mall. Walls, doors, and windows were obliterated. Supporting
structures gave way. When the smoke cleared, the entire front face of the building
was simply gone.

     Then Arbor saw something else.

    
Spectral.

     Kneeling. Debris seemed to be embedded into its skin.
Smoke trailed off of the machine in tiny cyclones. The outer skin of the
android had turned black, and as Arbor watched, it began to revert to its
normal red and green.

     Scarlett dropped her hands from her face and saw the machine.
She immediately rose to her feet and bolted for the android, but its voice rose
quickly.

    

With
that, Spectral rose to its feet.
for self-repair.>

     A thunderous cheer rose up from the group assembled
behind them. The mall was a loss, but there were about one hundred and fifty
souls still alive because of them. In truth, because of Spectral.

     “How the hell did it do that?” Arbor asked Scarlett.

     “He has some kind of electro-magnetic force field thing.
He turns black when he uses it,” she said.

     “Didn’t work too well for him,” Fang grunted. 

     Arbor found himself shrugging in agreement. The oaf
had a point.

     “Yeah, what about that?” Arbor asked.

     “It was designed just to protect him, but he’s found
over the years that he can stretch it. Protect others too,” Scarlett said,
still not having taken her eyes off of the robot.

     “Others,” Arbor smirked. “Like
you
, maybe?” he said.

     “He saved you too,” she shot back, her eyes narrow
points, glaring at him.

     “Yes. I guess...
he
...did,” Arbor said. And it
might have been his imagination, but when he peered back up at the android, he
could have sworn the damn thing smiled at him.

     The thought was swept away as the throng of cops and reporters
swarmed them with gratitude. 

CHAPTER 33

T
he
Revolution was seated next to an examination table in the medical suite of his
large personal quarters. A robotic limb, long, white, and spindly, with lots of
joints for flexibility and movement, worked feverishly on the armor covering
his injured right forearm.

     The robotic arm hung from the ceiling and was
connected there by cables that ran down to the array of computer consoles making
up the bulk of the medical suite. Seeing as the patient was the Revolution, it meant
there was as much tech in this room as there was actual medicine. 

     The device clamped onto a section of the armor and
sent a digital code into Revolution’s CPU. He could feel the armor unfastening
from his skin. The small sensors that attached to nearly every part of his body
constantly monitored his physical condition and if needed, pumped medicine or
stimulants into an injured area.

     A large section of armor lifted off of his arm. The
robot sprayed a thin sheen of gel onto his pale skin. It then ran a sensor back
and forth over the arm, scanning the wound.

     When it was finished scanning, two silver needles
thrust out of either end of the mechanical arm and stabbed into Revolution’s
forearm. The Revolution winced but drew his attention up to a monitor in front
of him that showed small nanobots being delivered into the injured area. They
were the final step in his unusual healing process.

     The robot sealed his arm back up and recoiled back
into the recesses of the lab wall. Revolution could feel the painkillers enter
his bloodstream. In a matter of seconds his arm was feeling as good as new. He
would need a few minutes to recover before he’d let the mechanical arm begin
work on his chest wound.

     It was about then that Lantern’s voice broke through
his helmet-com.
“Sir, we have an open-line holocom from
Freedom Rise
.
It’s Lithium, sir. He’s asking to be beamed in.”

     “Do we have secure digital shielding?”

    
“Yes, sir.”

     Revolution thrummed his titanium-encased fingers on
the side of the chair. Should he let this happen? Let in a hologram straight
from Freedom Rise
?
Could this be some kind of sabotage attempt? His
trust in Lantern was immense, but the Council had been getting the best of him
lately.

    
“Sir?”

     “Patch him through.”

     A life-sized image of Clay Arbor in his Lithium
uniform sizzled to life in front of the Revolution. Like the image of
Revolution that would be mirrored back to Arbor, there were no other details in
the surrounding environment where Arbor was broadcasting from. The holocom was
both a message and a camera.

    
“You look pretty good for a guy who just slow
danced with a twister, sweetheart.”

     “What do you want, Clay?”