Lafferty, Mur (21 page)

Peter bristled. "I really don't think I'm a mother hen. She needs support."

"Give it a rest, Peter. You're not as secret as you think you are."

Peter shook his head slowly. "We are not doing a good job at this hero thing. Or villain thing. I'm not sure. Whatever it is, with half our team drunk and the other half passed out already… "

Colette pulled up a folding chair and motioned for him to sit. She grabbed a stool for herself and looked at him pointedly.

"Why are we all sitting here hiding in a bar while the heroes are dying?

We should be leaving town."

Peter eyed her coolly. "We don’t have a car. Public transport shuts down when there’s a big battle. But the bigger thing is that Keepsie feels responsible for all of this, and she doesn’t want to leave. She wants to fix it. I have no idea how she plans on doing this, but…" He trailed off.

Colette stood and began folding filthy kitchen dishcloths. "So now what?"

"Ian and I keep watch, I suppose. If there's a direct threat to us, then we, uh, deal with it." Peter stood, folded the chair and sat it against the wall.

Colette stacked the cloths, ketchup and grease stains visible on the neat pile, and moved back to the grill. She turned the gas on and began forming more hamburgers from a bowl on the counter. "Well, it sounds like the heroes and villains have enough to deal with. They shouldn't bother with us anymore."

Peter felt the breath leave his lungs. He looked at Colette with wide eyes.

"That would be the case, yes. Except that Keepsie has their drug. So they’ll be looking for it."

Peter left a white-faced Colette and went out the back door. The concrete steps rose at a sharp angle to the alley behind the bar, and he wondered how Keepsie got any deliveries without the delivery men breaking their necks. Michelle sat on the back steps alone, silhouetted by a streetlight.

She looked around when he closed the back door.

A siren screamed past them. "I guess the normals are doing more than just hiding in their houses,” Michelle said.

"The emergency crews are usually out in times of crisis, even if the Academy says to stay inside," Peter said. "I guess we're all rebelling from the heroes today."

"Yeah, that was a super-great idea."

"In hindsight, perhaps it wasn’t," Peter said.

Michelle nodded. "How's it going in there?"

"Colette is cooking a feast in absence of anything else to do. Ian is on watch. Everyone else is either drunk or resting."

"So we're all prepared for another attack." Her sarcastic remark wasn't a question.

Peter felt inexplicably angry. "What do you suggest we do, then? Go back out there? Fight the Light of Mornings with my nose and your bar tray and Ian's feculent powers?"

Michelle didn’t flinch. She waved her hand at him and shushed him.

Peter listened. He didn't hear anything, but his ears were still ringing from Clever Jack’s point-blank gunshot. Michelle stood up and trotted to the top of the steps. She faced the street and then dashed out of Peter's view.

"Michelle!" he said as loudly as he dared, which ended up being a hoarse whisper.

She returned in an instant, breathing heavily.

"Get inside. We need to get Ian inside. This does not look good."

Ian was bellowing when they got inside the kitchen. "Where the hell is Peter?"

"Here," Peter said, emerging with Michelle from the kitchen.

"It got worse," Ian said.

Keepsie stirred from her nap and looked up. Her face was creased from sleeping on her arm and her eyes were half-slitted. "God, what now?"

"You still have Doodad under control, right?" Michelle said.

Keepsie rubbed her face. “Of course. Why?"

"Mechs,” Ian said.

“Huge,” Michelle said.

Keepsie jumped to her feet and ran to the men’s room, took a peek inside, and returned, frowning. “How is that possible? He can’t use his powers under my control.”

The Librarian, previously unnoticed, stood. “You have to tell me everything you know about the drug Jack took.”

“Why should we tell you?” Ian asked.

“This shouldn’t be happening. None of this should be happening.”

“Will you tell us what you know about it?” Keepsie asked.

The Librarian held her gaze for some time before dropping her eyes and nodding.

“The drug is a stronger version of Zupra, designed to make stronger humans in vitro.”

“Well, it certainly helped Jack out in the Academy,” Keepsie said. “And he’s not in vitro.”

The Librarian nodded. “I believe Jack knows something about that drug that even I do not know. Possibly something Dr. Timson had planned without telling me.”

Ian laughed. “Something’s going on in the Academy that you don’t know?

That must really burn.”

She didn’t acknowledge him. “I need to get inside the Academy.”

Keepsie choked. “You want to go into the building that just got blown apart by the nuclear girl? How do you know there’s anything there to salvage?”

The Librarian sniffed, but a red flush came to her cheeks. “I know.”

Keepsie rolled her eyes and threw her hands up in the air. “Heroes.”

“The more I know about this drug that Jack and, we now assume, Doodad took, the better we can fight his latest invention.”

Alex got out of his booth, his hair rumpled from sleep. “I’ll go with her.”

“Are you fucking insane? Haven’t you been through enough today?” Ian said.

“If she gets hurt, I can heal her. We get Tomas to come with us, and we’ll have defense. Shouldn’t take more than twenty minutes or so.”

Everyone looked at Keepsie, who blanched. Peter smiled to himself; she still hadn’t realized she was the leader.

“Hey, I can’t stop you. Tomas, are you cool - and sober enough - to be an escort?” she asked.

“I am.”

Peter cleared his throat. “You’d better hurry. I don’t doubt that mech is coming to collect Doodad.”

“Then what are the rest of us going to do?” Barry asked.

“Get ready for a battle, I guess,” Michelle said.

Peter’s chest tightened as they left, The Librarian walked resolutely up the stairs with Alex and Tomas following her more slowly.

"Alex doesn't look good," Keepsie said, echoing Peter's thoughts.

Ian made a face. "Good? He looks like day old shit."

"We may still need him before this is over," Peter said. "He needs to rest.

He's all we have that passes for a doctor."

Keepsie walked to the door and tried to look out the window and up the stairs. Ian followed her. "See anything?" he asked.

"Nope. They're gone."

"They didn't need to go far, what is she up to?" Peter asked, joining them.

Now they could hear the clanging thumps of the mechs striding down the street toward them. One pair of thumps came faster, then, and Tomas yelled.

Keepsie wrenched the door open and ran up the stairs, Peter and Ian stumbling after her.

The three massive mechs, one silver, one black and one red, had closed the distance quicker than Peter guessed they would. One was clearly made for transport, with a glass dome sticking out of its two legs. The other two were armed; the black fitted with countless blades, saws, and drills, and the red one looking to have ranged weapons - one hose connected to a tank that Peter feared was gasoline.

The one with the blades lay on its back, floundering to fold its many joints to get its legs under itself again. Tomas panted next to it, standing anguished over the prone body of Alex.

The red mech raised a hose.

"Ian!" yelled Keepsie.

"On it," he said, raising his arms.

“No, Ian, wait-“ Peter blurted, but it was too late. He covered his nose as Ian's stench filled the air, the torrent hitting the red mech as flame spewed from the hose. Ian’s feculent spray doused the flame, but the smell of burning shit made Peter retch. He stumbled down the stairs to get Michelle, knowing he would be useless if he were retching.

Michelle came out of the bar when she saw Peter. He gestured to her helplessly and she ran up to the street, carrying several bar trays.

Peter didn’t have long to wait for something to happen. He had gotten a wet towel from Colette to wrap around his face and go back out to help, but the group burst back into the bar.

Tomas carried the prone Alex, staggering every few seconds as his strength ran out and then was summoned again. He laid Alex on the floor. Peter winced when he saw the bloody rip in Alex’s shirt.

“Dude, is he dead?” Ian asked, kneeling at his side.

Colette touched Alex’s neck and withdrew her hand, bowing her head.

She nodded.

Peter looked at Tomas with anguish. “What happened?”

Tomas’s eyes were wide with shock. “The machines spotted us. I could not stop them all, and the black one stabbed him. It just stabbed him. I was not able to help.”

The thumping began outside as the mechs moved again. Ian ran to the window. "Dude, this is way over our fucking heads. He's dead. What do we do now? It's not just dangerous anymore, and there's dead people, and-"

Peter’s shock subsided into a tangible fear. "Ian."

"What?"

"Where are Keepsie and The Librarian?"

Ian’s mouth fell open. “I didn’t see…”

Tomas didn’t raise his head. “The Librarian ran away when the mechs attacked. After Ian stopped the red mech from attacking, Keepsie ran after her. They ran into the Academy.”

Peter collapsed into a chair. “And I did nothing. We’re pretty amazing heroes.”

The mechanical legs appeared on the steps outside as the black mech descended.

The Librarian had a large head start on Keepsie, but Keepsie was wearing sneakers and the Librarian still wore her sensible pumps. Keepsie started gaining on her almost immediately, and barely paused when she saw her quarry enter the smoking ruins of the Academy.

Guttering fluorescent lights illuminated the corridors. The building had been proudly sculpted mostly of stone and metal, which meant little fire damage -that seemed to come from the lower levels of the Academy -but contributed to a lot of rubble in the halls. Chunks of cracked marble and crumbling concrete made the way through the hall slow going.

Offices lining the outer wall smelled of acrid smoke and ozone, and one open door revealed a desktop computer that still sparked feebly, a chunk of concrete imbedded in the top of its case. The monitor, also a victim of pieces of the ceiling breaking free, had blown outward, showering the room with glass.

Keepsie dodged a piece of falling debris and entertained the thought that she might die here after all, no matter what Peter said about her immortality. He had said nothing about whether she could survive concrete caving in her skull.

The Librarian picked her way towards a red EXIT sign at the end of the left hall. She opened a door with a key and tried to slam it behind her, but Keepsie caught it. The Librarian ran then, clattering down the stairs. Keepsie swore and picked up her pace.

The stairwell went up for only three floors, but down for an indeterminate number. Keepsie jumped the stairs three at a time to catch her.

After two flights the Librarian paused for breath and Keepsie tackled her and they fell heavily on the landing.

"You bitch," Keepsie said, panting. "Unbelievable bitch."

The Librarian struggled underneath her, but Keepsie sat on her. The woman wilted, fighting no more, her hair coming free from its immaculate bun.

Keepsie found her exhaustion creeping up on her too. What was she planning on doing? Beat up the Librarian until she, Keepsie, felt better about Alex's death, the hell she and her friends had been through, the destruction to the city, the very small fact that most of this was her fault?

"Alex is dead, you know," she finally said.

"I know," the Librarian said. "That's why I ran."

"Nice," Keepsie said. "Why is it really so important that you come back to this dump?"

The Librarian met her eyes. "Research."

Keepsie had no weapon, but she trusted the fact that she had youth and speed on her side, and the Librarian seemed much the worse for wear than Keepsie. The hero kicked off her shoes and padded down the hallway -this one much darker than the ones above. Sometime along the way she had suffered a cut to her foot and she left unfortunate bloody footprints in the dust. She coughed and squirmed against the iron grip Keepsie had on her upper arm.

"Dr. Timson's private records are kept here, the trick will be getting in,"

The Librarian said.

"I thought you remembered everything, why do you have to go back to old records?" Keepsie asked as the Librarian stopped at a plain brown wooden door.

"She doesn't let me read everything. But I see some things. And sometimes it takes me some time to connect things," she said, running her hand over the smooth wood, ignoring entirely the doorknob.

"Like?" Keepsie prompted.

"Like a folder entitled 'Contingency Plans.' One entitled, 'Eric Timson's Training.' Mixing those with what I know about the Zupra testing and this is not a good combination."

"Ohhhkay…" Keepsie said, watching her touch the door. "You do know the door has a doorknob, right?"

"Timson had Doodad create her a mechanical door to protect her office.

This was, of course, when she still had control of him. It has a pressure-sensitive tab somewhere… ah." She pressed her thumb into the wood next to the uppermost hinge. Keepsie didn't see the door change in any visual way, but it swung silently inward.