DIRE : SEED (The Dire Saga Book 2) (27 page)

“YOU MAKE LITTLE SENSE.”

“Metahumans!” He snarled, stalking to the side, eyes never leaving me. “Your kind. Weak. Pathetic. Given undeserved powers, because in your moment of trial you broke. And look where that’s gotten us now, hm? The world a mess? Looking to golden flying gods for salvation? Giving up on our future, to survive day by day against villains and monsters and worse? Trusting in
heroes?
” He sneered.

A cold chill down my back, that broke through the pain. His analysis was starting to mirror my own.

“THAT IS WHY DIRE FIGHTS. THAT IS WHY DIRE NEEDS THE MONEY. TO FIX THIS WORLD!” I argued. “TO STOP ITS RELIANCE ON HEROES!”

He paused, frowned at me. “If you’re begging for mercy, there are better deceptions.”

“NO! DIRE DOES NOT BEG. BUT IF YOU’RE TRULY WORKING FOR A BETTER WORLD, THEN WE COULD PERHAPS WORK TOGETHER. THIS WORLD SHOULD BE SO, SO MUCH FARTHER ALONG. MOON COLONIES, MATTER REPLICATORS, STABLE NANOTECHNOLOGY, ASTEROID MINING, AND SO MUCH MORE! TECHNOLOGY HAS STOPPED, FROZEN BECAUSE EVERY TIME WE HIT A PROBLEM WE COULD SOLVE WITH HUMAN INGENUITY AND DRIVE, WE RELY ON SOME GODDAMN SUPERHERO OR THE OTHER TO FIX IT WITH THEIR POWERS!”

Morgenstern studied me. Something flickered in his eyes... hope? Sympathy? Was I getting through to him? I stretched out a gauntlet, open-palmed, shaking.

“WE STAND ON THE BACKS OF GIANTS. TESLA WAS A BOOST, NO DENYING IT, BUT HIS DREAMS WERE NEVER FINISHED. THEY WERE LOST WITH HIM WHEN HE DISAPPEARED, AND WE LIVE TODAY WITH THE TECHNOLOGY HE BUILT FOR US, NOT KNOWING HOW TO ADVANCE IT. HIS GENIUS, HIS POWER, WAS NOT REPLICABLE. NOT YET. IF WE CAN STOP KILLING EACH OTHER FOR A FEW YEARS, CALM DOWN AND FOCUS ON TECHNOLOGY, WE AS A SPECIES CAN—”

He was laughing. I’d lost him. I lowered my hand.

“Tesla was a genius before he got powers, my dear Doctor.” He leaned on the cane, eyes faraway. “Not many know that. They attributed his inventions to his superpower, but in truth, all he gained was the ability to control and channel lightning. Not that he needed it, he was doing just fine with his inventions.”

I stared at him, forgetting my pain.

“WHO ARE YOU? NO, WHO WERE YOU? SURELY YOU’RE NOT TESLA. YOU CAN’T BE.”

He laughed harder. “No. I’m not. I’m the salvation of this world, and fear not, your death will be helpful.”

“CAN’T SEE HOW.”

“I’ve long been researching the biological effects of powers. The dissection of your brain and nervous system will be a help there, particularly with Project Algernon, once we recover the flowers from your lackeys and fix Vector’s sabotage. And your armor, despite its shoddy materials, has some advancements I can co-opt for my own designs. So you
will
contribute to the future of humanity, Doctor. Have no fear on—”

I threw my gravitics to full, charged, and as he flipped aside and swung the cane I twisted past it, kept twisting around so that I crashed into the wall behind him with my back instead of my front. I jerked inside the armor, slammed my back into the harness hard enough to bruise, and panted, fighting off blackness. My nose was bleeding more now, and I was swallowing blood to keep my mouth clear.

“Was there a purpose to that?” Morgenstern asked.

“YES.”

I reached up and jerked the pauldron off my shoulder... revealing the micromissile launch array below. I had just enough time to see his eyes widen before he flipped away, diving for cover—

As I launched everything I had at the nearest outer wall.

Concussion missiles rattled the armor panels, piercers went through them, frags blew them to bits, and when the smoke and dust cleared, I could see a hole. Not a big hole, but big enough. I twisted the gravitics, cursed as circuits blew, and flew at half speed toward the light and freedom.

“Oh no you don’t!”

My armor was fast, even in its damaged state. He was faster. I sobbed in frustration as he caught me, held on, straining with incredible force, as he twisted and shoved me to the side of the hole. I scrabbled at him with my broken fingers, screamed in pain, and the mask roared in sympathy.

“Enough of that!” I thought he said, couldn’t hear him over my roar. He wedged the thin end of the cane into the side of my helmet where the mask met the metal, and pushed, levering it with wiry strength, muscles standing out in his arms. I pounded against him with my right arm, tried to force him away, but he was too close. Too close for the phlogiston projector, too close for missiles if I had any left, too close for... wait. I did have something left.

CRRRRRRRRRKKKKKK.... POP!

A clamp gave. I stopped screaming, watched in horror as my mask’s HUD flickered, shorted out as the ceramic deformed, and a seam of light appeared to my left.

“Look at me when I’m killing you!” He snarled.

I popped open my utility compartment, fumbled with my good hand. He took no notice. The seam of light grew, millimeter by millimeter.

CRAAAAKKKKK.... POP!

Another clamp gave, and the mask warped further, screen splintering, and I closed my eyes, as my gauntlet found one of the screamer grenades. This was going to suck...

CRUNCH!

My mask peeled away and I yelled, yelled in pain as blood spouted from my nose and if it wasn’t broken before it sure as hell was now, and Morgenstern peered in at me, an ugly snarl on his face...

...and sudden recognition in his eyes. Shock, and something deep within there, almost like regret.

“You?” He whispered.

“Home!” I commanded the armor, as I triggered the screamer grenade.

Pain. Incredible pain, worse than any I’d suffered during the fight, worse than any I’d had before, and it was only due to the insulation around my ears in the helmet that I stayed conscious, as Morgenstern staggered back, blood bursting from ears, nose, and eyes. But though he staggered he still stood, and I gasped in amazement as he bellowed his pain, leaned against the wall, and fixed his gaze again on me.

And then I was moving, as the armor obeyed its last command, throwing me out into the skies of Icon City.

The last wails of the screamer wound down as I half-flew, half-dropped, the expended grenade slipping from my nerveless fingers. I gave up on trying to stay conscious, and left the sea of pain behind for sweet oblivion.

CHAPTER 16: CLICK BOOM SPLAT

“Well. This is gonna be a pain in the ass to clean up.”

--Louis Cavaliogne, businessman and casino owner

I woke to pain. Screaming, cascading waves of the stuff, radiating out from the center of my face, and up my hand, which felt like a red-hot balloon attached to a twisted lump of driftwood.

“Shit! Dire, don’t move, okay?”

My hand throbbed as fingers touched it, and I hissed as something soft pressed against my wounded digits. Then I
did
scream, as the fingers shifted against cloth.

“Hold still!” Martin. It was Martin. I flailed my other arm up, hissed as my side burned, and let my hand drop as I peeled open my eyes.

I was braced up on a camp cot, strapped into it, more or less. Around me dim yellow lights illuminated the inside of the power station. My empty armor stood silent sentry in the corner, mask half peeled away. Vorpal lay in another cot, down to her sports bra and the business skirt, with a mass of bandages wrapping her left side. She stared at me, face pale with her own pain, and I opened my mouth to reassure her. I groaned instead, coughing and spluttering up clotted blood. Internal damage?

Fresh blood rolled down from my nose, a warm trickle against my throat. Nope, evidently not.

Martin shook his head, held my shoulder still with one hand, and finished wrapping bandages around my mangled hand. I saw a couple of strips of metal tucked in there. Makeshift braces by the look of it, scavenged from the old panels of the station. I chuckled, and he shot me a look before he pulled out the tape, and made sure everything was secured.

“How long?” I rasped.

“Since you came crashing out of there? About half an hour. You headed back to the warehouse. You know, the one the gangers and the kaiju wrecked? I had to scramble to get there ’fore the cops did, and retrieve your ass.”

“Shit.” I tried to let my head fall back, couldn’t. I turned it, ignored the throb from my nose. He’d tucked some folded up blankets under my head, elevated it. The front of my janitor’s overalls was coated with crusted blood. The snaps were undone.

“You undressed Dire?” I asked him.

He shrugged. “Wasn’t sure how bad it was. Looks like just bruises.”

Vorpal spoke up. “I would have done it, but I am not well.” She was breathing pretty heavily. “The laser, we think it hit organs. I cannot keep food down. Or water. It comes back up bloody.”

Not good.

“She sees.” We needed a hospital. Or possibly...“Bunny. We should call Bunny, get her to set up Freeway.”

“What? Freeway is a hero.” Vorpal said, confused.

Why was she confused? Oh, right. Timetripper had snatched her away before he’d revealed that to us. “He’s also a doctor, and willing to treat villains. Anyway, he’s the best option right now. Martin, please get Dire’s phone and bring it over here.”

“Like hell,” he said.

“What?”

“You need rest. Both of you need to rest, and we need to let things calm the fuck down. You’re the news right now, and you’re on every fucking channel.”

I pulled in a breath, let it out. “What is Morgenstern saying?”

“That you and Vorpal broke in, attacked the place, tried to take Old Man Morgenstern hostage but he fired up some power-armor prototypes and stopped you.”

I hissed laughter. “Half truths are the best truths. Dire fought the power armored troops, and they did pretty well, but they didn’t beat her. Aegon Morgenstern did.”

Martin turned, looked over what was left of my suit. “He have his own armor or something?”

“He had a stick.”

“A stick? You shitting me?”

“Well, it had a knob on the end.”

Martin stared at me, and I coughed laughter. “He’s some sort of metahuman. Insisted he wasn’t. Locked Dire in with him, then beat her until candy came out.”

“Holy fuck.” Martin’s eyes got wider and wider as I spoke. “That’s... big. Shit, no wonder the guy keeps heroes away.”

“What?”

“Ain’t the first time villains have taken a swing at him or his building. First couple of times that happened, heroes went chasing in after them, and Morgenstern sued their asses off. Said he hadn’t given them permission to enter, and got them on trespassing charges. The MRB went to bat for them, and lost. So now most heroes stay the fuck away. Probably why you got away clean, now I think of it,” he muttered, rubbing his goatee. “They figure Morgenstern’s up to some shady shit, they don’t care so much if his place gets hit.”

“You could have mentioned that, Martin.” I snorted blood from my nose.

He spread his hands. “I didn’t know you didn’t know.”

“Did anyone die?” I asked.

“Ah, not sure. Hang on.” He pulled out his phone, opened the grid browser and thumbed around. “Lotsa injuries. Two confirmed deaths. Says someone took an axe to them.”

I shot a glare at Vorpal, but she was curled around her wound, face pale, eyes shut. I sighed, and looked back to Martin. “We’ll do better next time.”

“Next time? Next time?” Martin stood, tucking his phone away, an expression of disbelief crossing his face. He swept a hand over in the direction of my armor. “What the fuck you gonna do now, with the suit in pieces like this? You got no way to repair it, you’re busted up, Vorpal’s out of commission, and the city’s after your ass! We need to run, and now. Ain’t gonna be a next time. This is a cut-your-losses-and-get-out scenario. I don’t see no way it can’t be.”

“Normally, you’d be right.” I said, scrabbling with my good hand, and finding the edge of the cot. “Help her up, yes?”

He knelt down, got his shoulder under my arm, and I pushed up and curled an arm around his neck, as I took shaky steps toward my armor. “But the fact is that Dire won.”

“You won? He looked pretty fine on television. Looks kinda like you lost.”

“He won the fight, true, but winning the fight wasn’t the objective.” I reached my armor, and put my hand on the utility compartment. “Open Cinnamon,” I commanded. It hissed open, and I reached in, withdrew the hard drive I’d taken from Morgenstern’s computer. “This was the objective.”

“I’m not sure what that is besides some kind of gizmo.”

Oh. Right. Not everyone knew computer hardware by sight. I blamed my injuries for my assumption. “That’s his personal workstation’s hard drive.”

A hiss of breath from Vorpal. I shot her a glance, and she was still curled up in a perfect ball of pain, but now she was grinning. “It wasn’t for nothing,” she whispered.

“Oh, we’ve got blackmail a-plenty even without that,” I grinned. “Recorded the whole fight with him through her mask’s cameras. He damaged the mask, true, but the memory should be salvageable.” I popped the armor open, hauled the mask out from the inside. Took a few tries to get the clamps released, the remaining intact ones were jammed in their sockets. But a little sweat, swearing, and assistance from Martin later, we got the job done.

“Good.” I stood back up with mask tucked under my bad arm, and the hard drive in my good hand. “No, she’s fine now.” I shook my head as Martin offered his arm again. The throbbing from my nose had receded, and though my broken fingers still hurt, the splints seemed to be keeping the wound in check. “Give Dire a bit to look over Morgenstern’s stuff, then we’ll give Bunny a call, and set up a doctor’s appointment.”

“Aight.” He rubbed the back of his head. “I don’t know how much this is gonna work. This?” He gestured at the suit, and both of us. “This is proof that Morgenstern don’t play.”

I let my lips draw into a thin, flat line, and stared at him. He flinched, took a half-step back.

“Nor does Dire. He will pay, one way or the other.”

Martin shook his head. “Just sayin’, he’s a hardass.”

“And also a businessman. Just have to get to the point where it’s more effective to swallow his pride than it is to stand on his principles.” I let the hint of a smile creep back onto my face. “It’s not like it was with Pag— with Barbatos and the Black Bloods. He’s a different sort of foe. One that might not have been an enemy, had things fallen out differently.”

“Huh?”

“Long story. Tell you after we get the payday secured.” I headed upstairs, to where I’d set up the supercomputer.

Four scans and twenty minutes later, my dreams of a fast payday were gone, as I stared into the wall of layered encryption that was Aegon Morgenstern’s private files. My best icebreaker programs made a little progress against the mirrored image that I’d set up, but every time I seemed to get a little traction, I’d hit another trap and the entire thing would unravel. Without the quarantine box, I’d have nothing to show for it, as any experimentation directly on the hard drive would have bricked it in short order.

But it wasn’t entirely hopeless. Given time and persistence, I’d get through. Might take hours or days to get it all, but I had time. Well, once we made sure Vorpal wouldn’t die, anyhow.

A glance into the quarantine box... no, the computer hadn’t cracked Morgenstern’s encryption yet. As I watched, the mirrored image started to fragment itself, and wipe yet again. My subroutines caught it and restored the image, started another approach.

Another couple of minutes, another cascading failure. I sighed, reset it, tapped in few possible avenues that the algorithms hadn’t tried yet. This was obscenely difficult. I was starting to believe the man, when he said that he was at the peak of human potential... he was giving even
my
skills trouble.

A final wave of my wounded hand across the AR, and it loaded up another image. I was thankful for the programmed interface. Trying to type on a keyboard with two busted fingers would have been hellish.

I stared at it for a bit, then sighed, and slumped back against a concave part of the wall, where there had once been a conduit back. I relaxed against the cool metal, and studied my hands. So much work to do. Most of it on me, now. Martin would take on what parts he could, and I was glad for it. Saving him had been smart. He was the best friend I could ask for, even if he had no powers to speak of.

Now there was a thought; maybe I could make him some power armor to match my own? Or some devices to help increase his odds of survival? I’d have to talk with him after this was all done, and see where his preferences lay.

Vorpal seemed nice enough. I’d definitely won her respect, after the trouble we’d been through. Not a friend, yet, but could be given time. Martin seemed to think she was a romantic interest, but I didn’t know how I felt about that. Was I a lesbian? I rather thought not. My tastes in pornography ran to heterosexual pairings. Well, also men doing naughty things with men. Sometimes cowboy outfits were involved. I coughed and shifted, and winced as my bruises still told me that pain was going to be thing for a while. No, not a good time for sexy thoughts. No time for that now anyway, and besides, most of my noncritical devices had been lost when we abandoned the lair.

In any case, I’d have to let Vorpal down gently if and when she tried to initiate mating rituals. Not that she was likely to do that anytime soon, since she was pretty badly wounded, and—

I shot upright, jerked my phone from my pocket. I’d been so distracted, that I’d forgotten that she needed serious medical care, right the hell now! I dialed Bunny’s number.

She didn’t pick up. The call went to message, and I shut it down, dialed again.

On the third attempt, she picked up.

“Uh.. hi. This really isn’t a good time.” Her voice was trembling.

“Bunny? What’s wrong?”

“Dire?” She shrieked.

“Well, yes.”

Muffled sounds, and then a male voice spoke through the line. “Doctor Dire? Is this you?”

I knew that voice. It took my memory no time at all to put a face to it. Carson, one of the high-ranking members of the Midtown Militia. One of the ones who had negotiated with me, back during the fight with the Black Bloods.

Carson, who Bunny suspected of cutting a deal with the mafia. Carson, who Bunny had gone to rally support against.

It struck me that I might not have called at the best time. Visions danced across my mind, of Bunny sneaking up on him, trying to take him out during a deadly game of hide and seek, only to be revealed when her phone went off. I bit my lip, moved back to the computer, and started up a hack on her number. It shouldn’t take too many resources, should be doable...

“Well. This is a stroke of fortune. We might be in a position to do each other a favor.”

Bunny’s phone was showing up on the Boardwalk. Northern end, too. I blasted through Slant telecommunication’s network protocols, did nasty things with their protocols, and got an address. Cross-referencing it showed she was inside a building... a large one. The listing showed it as the Golden Galleon casino.

“She’s listening.”

I tapped in commands faster, favoring my good hand as Carson continued. “I’m going to ask you this question, and your reply is going to determine a fair number of things in the very near future. Do you value Bunny’s life?”

I started pinging grid addresses, getting a picture of the networks in and around the building. Good security on the casino floor, but they weren’t on the floor, going by the GPS and the response time variation. I found an unpatched switch, rode it on up into their main camera networks, and piped feed to my display. It hummed to augmented reality life in the upper floor power station’s room around me, replacing rusted metal walls with pale yellow frescoes, and what looked to be another executive’s office. But this one didn’t have a third of the art that Morgenstern’s did, and what art I saw in the display around me was gaudy. Ostentatious? Perhaps that was a better word. But the décor mattered little, as the camera shifted, and showed me the people in the middle of the room. Three standing, one sitting, and one kneeling.