Dreams of the Golden Age (Golden Age 2)

Instead of surrendering, Majors raised a hand, and Steel lunged forward, arm leading like a lance. Paulson couldn’t swing around in time. The sword arm impaled him through the middle. The flak vest didn’t slow Steel down, and the superhuman grabbed the gun from Paulson’s hand as the police captain dropped to his knees, groaning, arm clutched around his middle.

One of the SWAT guys shot at Steel, but he merely flinched back, and the bullet ricocheted into a wall. Snarling, Steel rounded on the cop, who didn’t have much choice but to try again. Meanwhile, Shark stood before Analise and her family, threatening merely with his presence, and Sonic focused her attention on Arthur and Anna.

Celia’s hands clenched, and her throat closed, too shocked to cry out. This was too high a price to pay for her rescue. Her gaze turned dark as her anger built. She pulled her arms from their loosened straps and shook the ones off her feet as she stood.

“Enough! That’s … quite … enough.”

A draft, the tail end of Lew’s storm, maybe, flapped through the broken windows, catching stray bits of paper and shaking ceiling tiles. She had everyone’s attention now. Majors and his people stared, startled by her freedom. She could see them wondering if she really did have powers, but if they were really paying attention, they’d notice Teddy, visible now, standing near Anna and Arthur. And Analise, standing just like she used to as Typhoon, feet apart, shoulders back, arm bent, ready to call the ocean to her if needed. What had happened to spring the lock that had shut off her powers? Teia and Lew, of course. Typhoon had returned to save them. A family of miracle workers.

They all waited for her to do something. What could she say that would make this all stop, make it all go away?

She took off her wig and let it hang by her thigh. There, that inspired audible gasps of shock. As chilled gooseflesh crawled over her naked scalp, she suppressed a shiver.

“You’re wrong about me,” she said to Majors. “I know there’s nothing I can say that will convince you. But you’re wrong. I’m very tired. I’m very … sick right now. I want to go home, and I want my family and my city to be safe. That’s all. I’m going to ask you very simply, very calmly, to let us go. Take your people and go back to Delta. Leave us alone.”

After a long hesitation, Majors offered a wicked smile. “You’re very good. You think of everything, don’t you? A play for sympathy, is it? Thinking I’ll just roll over for you. If the case didn’t go your way, would you have done this in the courtroom? Anything to get people to do what you tell them.”

Not even the worst of her kidnappers had looked on her with such loathing. To the rest of them she’d always been just a tool, a means to an end. But Danton—to him, she was the source of all evil. How very odd.

“She has leukemia,” Arthur said, pleading, desperate. “She’s in the middle of chemotherapy. My God, can’t you see how ill she is?” His power was blocked; he didn’t have to worry about his emotion overpowering the others, so he bared himself and his fear as he begged.

“It’s certainly a good act,” he said.

“Damn you to hell,” her beloved shot back.

“Arthur, it’s all right,” she soothed him. Celia studied the wig in her hands, a mop of tangled red hair. An ugly thing. A mask, of sorts.

Danton Majors expected to see in her a mastermind, an architect of villainous schemes. To him, she was a criminal genius. She was the Executive. All right, then. That’s what he’d get.

She dropped the wig on the floor. Step by step, she crossed to Danton Majors. “You don’t know anything about me. About Commerce City. You can’t succeed here.”

“Stop me,” he said, sneering. “Save yourself, if you can.”

She’d been watching his people, Steel and Shark, Sonic and Mindwall. All through this exchange they hadn’t moved, and their expressions had shifted during that time, falling, their gazes turning inward. To uncertainty. To pity, possibly for her. To horror, maybe? She hoped. Sonic, in particular, kept looking at that wig, as if she knew exactly what it meant, what it cost her to take it off in this setting. Celia hoped she’d read them all right.

“Mindwall?” she said, glancing over her shoulder.

“It … it’s Edgar. My name’s Edgar.” His voice shook.

“Do you have control over your blocking powers, or is it autonomous?”

“I can’t control it. It’s always there.”

“Can I ask you to leave, then? Go downstairs, as far away as you need to until the block stops working here.”

“Mindwall,” Majors said predictably, “don’t move.”

Celia said, “You can do what you like.”

The man walked away, past the whole crowd of them, exhausted and injured, and disappeared into the hallway beyond.

“Edgar!” Sonic called after him, but Mindwall didn’t stop.

“Arthur, how long should we wait?” Celia said.

“The block starts about the tenth floor. A few minutes, at least.”

“All right, then. In a few minutes, Dr. Mentis will put all of us to sleep. When he does a blanket offensive, he can’t pick his targets. It will happen to all of us. He won’t kill you, I promise. I guarantee you, there’s no better way to stop a fight in its tracks. I’ve seen it done. Shall we simply keep talking until then? Keep trying to explain ourselves to each other? Or you can do … what, Mr. Majors? What’s your next move?”