Part 3

by DarkMark

It was the second time inside of 24 hours I’d woken up in someplace unfamiliar.  At least this time, my head didn’t hurt (much), and there was a familiar face or two staring down at me.  The ones I knew were Rael and his immediate superior, Commissioner Katz.  Katz was a very thin man with a static-stiffened mustache and hair parted down the middle and kept in place by GelUltimate, which lasted for six months and was immobile until it wore off.

The ones I didn’t know were medics, and one of them had evidently awakened me with a stimulant.  I was trying to focus.  Rael said something like, "Welcome back to life, Black," but Katz overrode him.   He was holding a ChangeSlate.  "Black," he said, menacingly.  "What do you know about this?"

I tried to speak.  A couple of attempts later, I said, "Let me see it."  Katz handed it over.  A ChangeSlate takes whatever you write on it with a stylus and stores up to 5 million screens.  The handwriting was evidently Planar’s, and I could manage to decipher the important parts.

"’One: Amnesty for all mutants’," I read.  "’Two:  disbanding of the hunter system, with prosecution for all hunters.’  Can we negotiate on this last bit?  Or maybe get a rider tacked on?"

"Don’t soap me," snapped Katz, grabbing the slate back from me.  A medic had a sensor out and was running it past my arm to pick up my vitals.  I was breathing, and that seemed good enough for me.  "The slate was tucked in your pants.  Evidently by the Magnusites."

"Yeah.  I had a little meeting with their publicity men last night," I said, running my hands over my chest to make sure all the ribs were still in place.  "Where’d you find me?"

Rael said, "In a recycling bin in Precinct 34.  The heat sensors marked you as a live animal.  The garbage guys had to investigate, and one bath later…"

"That’s where this investigation belongs, in the garbage," Katz assured me.  "The Magnusites say they’re mass-producing Breakdown.  You have confirmation, Black?"

"I do," I said.  "I was in the factory where they were making it.  Didn’t see it from the outside, though."

"We know where it is," put in Rael.  "It was in Pre 56.  The place used to make tennis balls when it was operational.  By the time we got there—"

"The damn place had been dismembered," Katz finished.  "They’ve tanked the stuff out, and we’ve got hell-all as an antidote."

I sat on the edge of the hovering gurney.  "So you picked up some traces for analysis, Commissioner?"

"Yeah," said Katz.  "But we’re a long ways away from a patch.  Whenever they want to use this thing, if it’s within the next week, they’ve got a clear field."

"They said they’d do it within 72 hours," I said.  "How long have I been under?"

Katz and Rael looked at the medic in charge.  "Seven, about," he said, consulting the screen of his medical tracker.

I ran my hand over my head, and regretted doing so, having touched a couple of places that still hurt.  "Guess it’s time to get on the tube with this thing."

*******

The first thing I did was contact Noel Henshaw.  He agreed to another meeting, this time at a WarDen.  I watched those things on the holos when I was a kid, but the sight of one guy getting turned into canvas pizza, or pretending to, doesn’t turn me on like it used to.  We were not in the first row, to be sure.  While the Masked Miscreant chose various joints to spot-test on his opponent’s body, I traded words with Noel.  He looked funeralwise.

"The Magnusites got to me," I said.

"Yeah, I heard," he replied, his eyes trying to fake following the action.

"I got bashed over the head by a guy with a stone hand," I continued.  "I woke up and somebody called Mr. Corner tried to continue the job.  He was working for a guy named Planar.  Know him?"

"We’ve met, occasionally."

"Recently?"

"Last year, I believe.  I may have touched his thoughts since then.  Can’t be sure."

"Well, touch them now, because I have to find out where they’re taking this stuff we’ve got."

"I can’t, Black.  Planar hides his thoughts from me, like I hide mine from his scryers."

I grabbed Noel by the wrist and looked at his profile.  "Noel.  You know any difference between us that’s going to keep what’s going to happen to us from happening to you?"

"Don’t talk like that.  Not here."

"Want me to holler mutant?"

"I’d fry your brain."

"Answer my earlier question."

He looked at me, grimly.  "The answer is no.  I don’t know any substantial difference that’s going to keep us from breaking down along with you.  I’m going to take my people and leave town within a day, or try to.  Damn, Black, I’ve got to protect my kind!"

I put my hand on his shoulder.  "Thought we were trying to make it one kind, not two.  Isn’t that the motto you dreamed up for yourselves?"

He shot me a look of malice.  "Not as long as your kind doesn’t see it that way."

"Henshaw.  I’ve got a woman I love, with a couple of daughters I’m fond of, as well.  I have a few acquaintances at work I’d rather not see turned into brown paste."

"Don’t say that here!"

"Why not?  First, the grunting and groaning on the square out there is covering it up.  Second, if we don’t attend to business here, in two more days it won’t matter a damn what we said or didn’t.  I need you, Noel.  And what’s more important to you…you need me."

He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.  "Black.  Roger.  Do you know…what I’ve wanted in life is simple, really."

"Isn’t it always?"

"Shut up.  I want to be able to walk down the street without somebody yelling at me what you yell when you do your job.  I want to be able to do my job without worrying that one of my clients is wondering if I’m one of Them or not.  I want to take the Tube down to the sea and lay above the beach with my wife and not have to worry about Hunters.  I want several hundred people not to depend on me.  Damn it, Black, I want what you have!"

I nodded, and I think I worked my tongue around my mouth, which is what Karen says I do when I’m thinking.  "You don’t know what I have, Noel.  I have readings that may go North any day.  I have a girlfriend who gets nervesick every time I’m with her, because she thinks she’s looking at a walking dead.  I have people like yourselves, and the Others, who have a lot more power than me, whom I have to face at least once a week.  You know what else I have?"

"What?  What?"

I opened my wallet cache and showed him a metal seal with the insignia of the OverFed on it.  "Conditional amnesty.  For those who help us on this venture."

Henshaw looked at it like he was midway between the two farthest points of land abutting the Pacific.  He reached out to touch it, but I held it away.  "It’s conditional, Noel."

He exhaled.  "Which means you won’t hunt us if we help."

"It means we’ll let you get away.  Cut you some slack. It’s not exactly the mark of Cain, but it could help."

"I trust you, Black.  I’m the stupidest son of a bitch in this hemisphere for doing it, but I trust you."

"What can I say?  I trust you, too.  I have to."

"Are we being watched?"

I shrugged.  "We could be.  Even I don’t know it, all the time.  Which could mean that your best bet would be to go along."

"I work with you and only you.  That’s non-negotiable."

"There’ll have to be more than just you," I said.  "I’m not going up against Planar alone."

He turned stony.  "That’s not in the question."

"It has to be.  People like you can stop him.  Maybe you’re the only ones who can."

He laughed without mirth.  "You’ve got the wrong crew."

"Do I?  Think you can forge enough passes to get all your people out within two days?  With security stepped up at all checkpoints?"

Noel did a long pause.  "Planar’s got some hard men in his crew."

"He does," I said.  "I’ve got proof of it, in several places."

"We aren’t a task force," he said.  "We’re more like moles."

"Think X-Men versus the Brotherhood and you’ll do just fine."

He laughed, with humor born under a noose.  "Next thing you’ll want us to do is wear black and yellow tights."

"Nope.  Are you in or not?"

"What difference does it make?  We haven’t found him yet."

"I haven’t.  You can."

"How?"

"Come with me," I said.

We left the Midtown Marvel in the throes of agony and went out.

*******

Noel didn’t know how widely he could open his mind.  Mainly, he’d been careful with it, restricting himself to a radius of a few miles, keeping himself unobtrusive.  I wanted him to push it all the way.  He said that was dangerous and I said I knew it was.

He had to think of himself as a comm broadcasting system, or maybe an ancient sonar detecting device.  Pour those waves out over the city, see what you can find.  Blips and blops of other people’s consciousness.

"I don’t like this," he said, squatting in my living room.

"Does it hurt?"

"Around the edges," he said.  "Like trying to…stretch your arms out farther and farther and farther.  It’s a strain…then…something falls in place and you can stretch some more…but it’s still a strain."

"You want some water?"

"Hold on," he said.  His eyes were open and he wasn’t seeing anything.  "Filtration.  Like somebody’s keeping something from me."

"Where?"

Noel sighed.  "Hard to tell, but…probably Pre 75.  Somewhere in there.  Keep looking, right?"

"Keep looking.  Right," I said.  I nursed a Coffee Plus from Rael’s stash.  I’d swiped it with his blessing.

"I can’t…he may not be alone," said Noel.  "Signal seems to be moving.  I’m going to widen out now…uh…"

I put through a call to Rael.  "We’re fishing," I said.

"I don’t think I should ask about your bait," he came back.

"The hole is somewhere in the vicinity of 75, but probably mobile," I said.  "Bring your men in around the edges.  Not sure what we’re looking for."

"Black," he said, seriously.  "The amnesty thing was harder than passing gallstones."

I winced.  "What’s the upshot, Rael?"

"Upshot is that the fewer pardons they have to pass out, the better they like it.  Your unit has to be small as possible."

"I don’t know how many he can give me," I said.  "I don’t know how many we’ll be up against."

"Filtration elsewhere," said Noel.  "Pre 17.  I’m getting…getting backslash."

I turned away from Rael.  Backslash was anti-telepathic static.  "Breakaway, now."

"Can’t," he said.  "It’s…drawing me in.  Trying to spike me."

"Go, Rael," I said, punching out the masked holocom.  Then I took Noel by the shoulders.  "Noel.  Listen to me.  I’m anchor point.  Feel these hands.  They’re your reality check."

"Drawing in," he whispered.  "Oh, god.  It’s substuff."

Substuff. Subconscious terror feed.  The kind of stuff you get in nightmares where you’re facing a tiger or a cobra or something you can’t even begin to picture, and can’t run faster than a crawl through wet ferrocon, and can’t scream higher than a squeak.  I’d heard of it being used in the telepath community, but had never hit it myself.  Thank God.

I put my arms around him from behind.  "Noel," I said.  "It’s me.  Listen with your ears, not your mind.  Look at what’s in front of you, not what’s in your mind’s eye.  Smell, Noel. Open your mouth and taste the air.  Listen to me, Noel.  I’m your friend.  I am Noel Black.  Come back home, Noel.  Come back, now."

He had his mouth open and was making noises like he was trying to swallow his tongue.

I grabbed the CoffeePlus from the shelf where I’d put it and poured it in his lap.

The scream I heard from him was the most beautiful thing I’d heard all day.

It took a few more seconds, but his hands finally came up to his face and rubbed it vigorously.

"Back with us?", I asked.

"Get your damn arms away from me," he said.  I let go.

Then he said, "If I have time, Black, if I have time after this is done…I’m going to hate you.  I’m going to hate you very much."

"Was the burn that bad?"

"The hell with the burn!  You ever faced the nightmare you had when you were 5 years old and had it turned up to full amp and played so you couldn’t get away from it if you had to?"

"I’m sorry, Noel."

"Yeah.  Well, thanks for the burn."

"Welcome."

"We still have to do the job?  Ourselves?"

"We’ll have backup, inactive, probably, until we know we’re on the right case."

"We’ll be on the right case, all right.  They don’t brainburn a ‘path just for walking in someone’s garden.  He knows we’re out there, and we know he knows."

"Which means we could have less than two more days."

"I don’t think so. But I don’t know."

"Noel," I said.  "Where’s your unit?"

He managed to get to his feet, shakily.  "I called them when I started this.  With my mind."  Noel gestured to the door.  "Want to let ‘em in?"

I used the holo to see who was outside.  Five people of varying types.  I knew what kind of people, too.

When I opened the door, they stepped back, possibly without volition.  I looked at them, and didn’t say "Freeze.  Hunter."

I just said, "We’ve got some Plus that I haven’t spilled yet, if you want any."

Behind me, Noel showed his face.  "It’s all right this time, group.  It’s all right."

I stepped back and the five mutants filed in.

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