Psion Omega (Psion series Book 5) (3 page)

Katie took this as an invitation to continue.
“And I asked my friends to invite the other special students. I’ve seen those
kids get bullied and teased. Hopefully that won’t happen anymore if they’re
seen with, you know, my friends. Plus … everyone deserves to go dancing for one
night, right?” She flashed Mrs. Hepworth a hopeful smile.

Mrs. Hepworth cleared her throat and turned her
face away from Katie and wiped her eyes.

“Are you okay, Mrs. Hepworth?”

“Fine,” the older woman croaked. She cleared
her throat a second time and then faced Katie with a smile. “You know why I
hated school so much, Katie?”

“Um, homework?”

“No, I actually liked homework. Try again.”

Katie grew braver and ventured the answer she
believed to be true. “Your moles?”

Mrs. Hepworth actually laughed. “They didn’t
develop until I was in my thirties. It was Marybeth. My little sister. She
suffered from Trisomy 21. A very mild case, and she was one of the last to have
it before doctors found a cure. But the other students, girls and boys, were so
mean to her. So cruel. I could tell you stories, but I won’t. It broke my heart
to see my sister smile even while people called her names. That was all she
knew to do … smile back. She wouldn’t cry until after we were in bed. She
didn’t want our parents to know. And you know what I did, Katie?”

Katie shook her head. No teacher had ever been
so personal with her before; she wasn’t sure what to do or say.

“I watched. I stored it all away. And I
promised that I’d never let anyone bully or tease one of my students.”

“Okay,” Katie finally said. “So my idea was
good or bad?”

“No, Katie,” Mrs. Hepworth responded, dabbing
her eyes again. “It’s a wonderful idea. If someone had done that for Marybeth …
it might have changed everything.”

That night at dinner, Katie’s mom grabbed
Katie’s hand, beaming. “Rachel’s mom told me what you and your friends are
planning to do for prom,” her mom said. “I think it’s incredible.”

Katie grinned sheepishly. “Thanks.”

“What gave you the idea?” her dad asked.

Katie’s response was a shrug. The truth,
however, was much darker. Five nights ago she’d had a dream where she’d slapped
Bobby John and stuffed his hat into his mouth while he screamed, “Bobby John
loves you.” The dream had stuck with her, and she still cringed each time she
thought of it. The pain and terror in Bobby John’s eyes made her stomach ache,
and seeing him in the hall reminded her of it.

“Won’t it hurt your chances of becoming prom
queen?” her dad teased.

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“What about Mark?” Katie’s mom asked.

“He doesn’t mind.” Mark Newcomer, Katie’s
boyfriend, had even agreed to take Meagan Horn, another one of the kids with
special needs, although he was less than enthusiastic about the idea.

“All four years,” her dad continued, “that was
your goal.”

“It still is. I can take Bobby John to the prom
and still win prom queen.”

“Is it safe?” his mother asked. “I mean, is he
safe?”

“Gosh, mom.” Katie rolled her eyes. “He’s like
the sweetest guy I know. Everything’s already worked out with his parents.”

Katie’s dad put his hand on hers. “I’m
speechless, Queen. I really am. I can’t believe you came up with this all on
your own.”

“Okay … thanks.” She looked to her mom, not
understanding why her dad was making such a big deal out of it. Her mom’s only
response was to keep smiling.

“It’s days like this I wish we could have had
more kids,” her father said.

Katie got up and began clearing the table.
Don’t take the comment as an insult
, she
told herself.
He means it as a
compliment.

She turned the water on as hot as she could
stand it as she soaked the dishes. Her father’s occasional comments didn’t feel
like compliments. They felt like accusations. Like she wasn’t enough for them.

Her father took her hand out of the water and
drew her attention to his face. Cupping her chin, he kissed her nose. “Queen,
I’m proud of you. You’re great. You’re special. Someday you’re gonna change the
world.”

Katie forced herself to smile. “Okay.”

She hurried to finish her chores and then ran
upstairs. A message waited for her on her watchphone. The text hovered in the
air just above the device. It was from Courtney Marzban:

Priyanka
thinks you’re trying to make her look bad because she has a THING about special
needs kids creeping her out. She’s pissed and on a warpath. WATCH OUT.

Sunday, April 27, 2087

“TEAM EAGLE IS in place,” Anna Lukic reported over the com radio from
level 65 of the Joswang Finance Tower in downtown Detroit. “Are we clear to
place the eggs?”

“Copy that,” Sammy said from his perch in a nearby
tower. “Stand by for approval. Albatross, what do you see?”

“No sign of any trouble, Mother Hen,” Brickert
responded, wiping his hands on his pants for the third time.
Why, palms? Why do you betray me? I don’t
need you to be sweaty right now.

He sat inside the security booth on the ground floor
of the building with Natalia, Strawberry, and Hefani. Meanwhile, six other
teams worked inside the building placing explosives. Brickert had wanted to be
on Anna’s team taking orders, not leading the group tasked with guarding the
security center.

“I’m not a leader,” he’d told Sammy, but his best
friend wouldn’t hear it. “I’ll mess everything up. And I don’t want Strawberry
on my team.”

“You being her leader was the only way she would go.
I need you watching out for the others. Your friends. And it’s time you started
to lead. You’re ready.”

“I’m not the kind of guy people want to listen to …
or follow.”

Sammy folded his arms. “What kind of person is
that?”

When he couldn’t answer, Brickert threw his arms in
the air. “Look at you. Tall, smart, eloquent.”

“I’m eloquent?” Sammy laughed. “Tell Jeffie that.”

Brickert had not been able to convince Sammy that
the decision was wrong, so now he sat in the security room with his sister and
two fellow Betas watching security footage. Around them the guards lay on the
floor, tied up and unconscious.

“What do you see on the footage, Brick?” Sammy
asked. “No sign of anyone else in the building?”

Brickert glanced around the room. He had a thumbs up
from the rest of his team. “Copy that. We are good to go.”

Via security cameras throughout the building,
Brickert watched teams, comprised of Psions, Tensais, Ultras, Elite, and
civilian resistance fighters, converge on strategic targets on the upper levels
of the building. The targets were the cloning labs: several floors dedicated to
the research and development of Hybrid clones of Sammy. The resistance believed
towers had been chosen as cloning sites because they were harder to infiltrate
and destroy without mass casualties. Seeing dozens of copies of Sammy in glass
tanks gave Brickert the heebie-jeebies.

“Mother Hen, Team Eagle is en route to deliver the
egg,” Anna said as her team spread out across the floor to place
remote-detonated explosives.

“Team Hawk,” Sammy said, “check in.”

“Team Hawk is ready to rock,” Al announced. Brickert
thought he sounded a little more cheerful than normal, a sign that perhaps
things were improving between him and Marie. “Are we clear to leave the egg,
Mother Hen?”

“They’re clear, Mother Hen,” Brickert stated. “All
teams are clear to proceed to deliver the eggs.”

“All teams clear. Hawk, Eagle, Goose, Turkey,
Falcon, Owl. All teams deliver your eggs and report.”

At Sammy’s word, the six teams moved in on their
target locations. Brickert watched with pride as the teams worked as cohesive
units, placing explosives in predetermined locations to inflict maximum damage
on the cloning equipment and growing subjects, yet not damage the
infrastructure of the building. They had already hit the Kadaber Tower in San
Francisco. Zero casualties other than the clones themselves.

“One minute until the next security check,
Albatross,” Natalia reported.

“You ready to put in the code, Hefani?”

Hefani gave a thumbs up. “Roger, roger.”

To ensure that the security center was manned and
alert, the Joswang Tower’s building systems ran a check every fifteen minutes.
Guards had one minute to enter a four-digit code given to them the day before,
which they were required to memorize and destroy. Fortunately, the codes were
generated and stored months ahead of time in the data banks at the Hive, which
Sammy, Nikotai, and Jeffie had hacked four months earlier.

Hefani typed in the code of the
day—4801—and clapped his hands. “Good for another fifteen minutes.”

Everyone’s attention returned to the myriad monitors
mounted throughout the room. Brickert, Hefani, and Natalia studied the levels
the other teams were on while Strawberry watched the cameras aimed at the lobby
to ensure no one snuck up on the security center. From a neighboring
skyscraper, Sammy and his team had eyes on the building for any signs of
intrusion from the street.

So far the operation was going as smoothly as the
San Francisco mission.

Anna, Al, Justice, and the other team leaders moved
their teams about the labs with surgical precision. Each bomb was armed,
tested, and checked off a list which Jeffie kept in the neighboring skyscraper
with Sammy and his team. If they missed anything, she reported it to Sammy, who
reported it to the team leader. So far, nothing had been missed.

Another fifteen minutes passed. Natalia warned the
team again that it was time to input the code. Brickert didn’t think twice
about it until Hefani held up a warning hand instead of a thumbs up.

“I—I screwed up the code,” he said. “Let me
put it in again.” He retyped it and hit
SEND
.

Everyone watched him.

“It says ‘Error.’ What am I doing wrong?”

“I don’t know,” Brickert said, licking his lips,
“but one more incorrect entry and we’re gonna have some problems, I’ll tell
you.”

“What did you put in?” Natalia asked.

“Same as always. 4810.”

“It’s 48
01
,”
Strawberry and Brickert said simultaneously.

Hefani winced. “Sorry, guys, I’ve put that code in
so many times that my mind is messing with me.”

Everyone’s eyes left the monitors and watched Hefani
to make sure he put the code in correctly. He did it slowly, saying each number
aloud as he pressed it. When he finished, the computer screen told him he had
completed a successful entry. Everyone let out a breath of relief and turned
their attentions back to their monitors.

Next to Brickert, Strawberry stood and peered closely
at one of the video feeds on her monitors. “What is that?”

“Where?” Brickert asked his sister.

“Right out—”

The door to the security center blew open. Gas
containers flew into the room. Brickert held his breath and shot blasts in the
direction of the canisters. Thirteens crowded into the room wearing gas masks
and wielding guns. The sound of the bullets was deafening in close quarters.
The four Psions put up shields, but the telltale signs of coughing told
Brickert the battle might already be lost. The coughs came from Hefani, deep
booming, gagging hacks.

Hold it
together, Hefani
, Brickert thought. He didn’t dare say the words aloud
for fear of breathing in the gas. Already his eyes burned and watered. In their
gas masks, the Thirteens weren’t able to communicate well, their attack less
coordinated. But in the confines of the small security center, a room about
four by five meters, they didn’t need much coordination.

Sammy mentioned something about white noise coming
through the coms, but Brickert still couldn’t speak without inhaling the
noxious fumes. Under the hailstorm of bullets, the screens and equipment around
him shattered, popped, and sprayed debris everywhere. Strawberry and Natalia
drew close to Brickert, still shielding. Hefani fell to his knees as booming
coughs exploded from his lungs. His eyes were large and watery, but he kept his
arms straight in front of him, still protecting his front.

We have to get
out of here!

Brickert had no idea how long he’d been holding his
breath, but it felt like an hour. In reality, it had only been fifty or sixty
seconds. His heart beat faster the longer he denied himself of air.

I told Sammy I
wasn’t a leader.

Two Thirteens dashed forward, perhaps unable to
restrain themselves any longer. Brickert dropped down to one knee and fired
several blasts up at their heads. One of them flew back, flipping over in the
air. Bullets from his own comrades tore into his body. The other’s mask shot
back, exposing his face. He immediately gagged and coughed.

Have to fix this
somehow
…

Brickert counted six more Thirteens in masks. If he
and his team were to have any chance, they had to get out of the room so they
could breathe and call for help.

Brickert mustered the last of the air in his lungs
and bellowed to his team, “CHARGE THEM!”

The outburst prompted questions from the other team
leaders over the com—questions Brickert couldn’t answer—as he,
Natalia, Strawberry, and Hefani pushed forward in unison. They pushed back the
Thirteens until Hefani went to his knees again, now coughing so violently that
flecks of blood came up with each breath. The Thirteens identified him as the
weakest link and focused fire. Hefani kept one hand up to shield, the other
down to break his fall.

Natalia sidestepped closer to him so her shields would
provide him cover. Strawberry moved over to Brickert. Neither Hefani nor
Strawberry had been involved in combat before. Brickert didn’t want to think
about what thoughts were going through their minds. He had to focus on what he
could do to survive.

I’m not the
right man for this job. I’m not a leader!

Gas continued to cloud the room in a yellowish haze.
Their efforts to drive the Thirteens back succeeded in part. Brickert blasted
at the enemy but his lungs were close to bursting. How could he concentrate
with the need to breathe so persistent?

Don’t break.
Don’t do it
, he urged himself.
Stay
strong.

He tried to push forward again, but his lungs
betrayed him, sucking down both sweet air and noxious gas. The reaction came at
once. A burning in his chest coupled with the need to retch. Eyes watering so
badly that he couldn’t breathe. Then came the irrepressible cough. It was a
deep, barking boom that immediately led to another one and another one.

“Help us!” Brickert wheezed into his com. “Attack …
on the … security center!”

“Each leader send half your team downstairs now!”
Sammy ordered. “I’m coming in, too. You four hold tight and keep your shields
up.”

“Gas,” Brickert coughed. “They’ve got gas.”

The words came with great difficulty. Brickert’s
world burned. His eyes, his mouth and nose, his lungs. Even his guts were
aflame. The Thirteens continued to fire shots from just inside the doorway,
unwilling to spread out around the room.
They
have the upper hand. Do they not want to press it?

It was easy for Brickert to shield himself while on
his knees. His body became a smaller target. The Thirteens could shoot forever
and hit nothing. Pretty soon, however, Hefani’s coughing turned to gagging.
Then, without warning, he leaned over and threw up. The stench mixed with the
gas was nauseating. Both his hands hit the carpet to brace his body. Bullets
flew. Blood spattered the carpet, mixing in with the pool of vomit, and Hefani
hit the ground, dead. Strawberry screamed and then began to cough.

The Thirteens chose her as their next target.

No!
Brickert jerked
his body to the side to cover his sister.
Gotta
get back to my feet. Gotta be a leader.

The same moment he tried to get up, a tremendous
cough racked his body, so strong that it nearly knocked him over. The Thirteens
turned their guns back on him. Brickert kept one hand up, but it wasn’t enough.
A bullet pierced his shinbone. The fire in his abdomen was nothing compared to
the searing heat in his leg.

Seeing Brickert get shot seemed to rob Natalia of
her sense of reason. Rather than moving in to shield for him, she charged the
Thirteens with a powerful blast, unholstered her weapon, and fired. Her efforts
forced them back; she clipped one Thirteen in the neck, causing him to bleed
out. In the process she opened herself up to the Thirteens’ attack. They took
advantage, fired back at her, and hit her in the stomach.

“No!” Brickert screamed, finding his voice amidst
the flames in his throat. “Get back! Get back!”

Natalia stumbled back, dropped her gun, and clenched
her stomach while shielding herself as she hit a table with a
CRASH
. The table broke and collapsed
around her. With Hefani and Natalia immobilized and Brickert injured, the
Thirteens moved in boldly for Strawberry. She fired blasts at them, coughing
and shouting for help. Brickert scurried to help her. He saw the Thirteens’
guns move away from Natalia’s direction and back toward him, but he didn’t
care. Only Strawberry mattered. Only his little sister.

Brickert fired blasts from both feet and shot
himself into the Thirteens, bouldering into them with his body. He knocked two
over but two others grabbed him and seized his arms. Fresh pain blossomed in
his shoulder and he cried out from the agony. Shrieks came from all directions,
muffled by gas masks and clouded by the hissing from the canisters spewing out
their contents into the air. Brickert struggled and fought, but the Thirteens
wouldn’t let go. Two more came forward and took hold of his ankles. Brickert
fired blasts at the enemy to no effect.