He walked slowly back to me. “All right, son,” he said. “You’ve got fifteen minutes.” He gestured back toward the room. “I’ll listen to what you have to say.”
We walked back into the small room amid a few grumbles from some of the others. I was beginning to place the members of the team. Abraham, with his large machine gun and beefy arms—he had to be the heavy-weapons man. He’d be around to lay down cover at Enforcement officers if something went wrong. He’d intimidate information out of people when needed, and would probably work the heavy machinery if the plan called for it.
Red-haired Tia, narrow-faced and articulate, was probably the team’s scholar. Judging from her clothes, she wouldn’t be involved in confrontations, and the Reckoners needed people like her—someone who knew exactly how Epic powers worked, and who could help decipher their targets’ weaknesses.
Megan had to be point woman. She would be the one who went into danger, who moved the Epic into position. Cody, with his camo and sniper rifle, was most likely fire support. I was guessing that after Megan neutralized the Epic’s powers in some way, Cody would pick them off or checkmate them with precision fire.
Which left Prof. Team leader, I supposed. Maybe a second point man, if they needed one? I hadn’t quite placed him yet, though something itched at me regarding his name.
As we entered the room again, Abraham looked interested in what I was going to say. On the other hand, Tia looked annoyed, and Cody actually looked amused. The sniper leaned back against the wall and relaxed, crossing his arms to watch the hallway. The rest of them surrounded me, waiting.
I smiled at Megan, but her face had become impassive. Cold, even. What had changed?
I took a deep breath. “I’ve seen Steelheart bleed,” I repeated. “It happened ten years ago, when I was eight. My father and I were at the First Union Bank on Adams Street.…”
I fell silent, story finished, my last words hanging in the air. And I intend to see him bleed again. It sounded like bravado to me now, standing before a group of people who had dedicated their lives to killing Epics.
My nervousness had evaporated while telling the story. It felt oddly relaxing to finally share it, giving voice to those terrible events. At last, someone else knew. If I were to die, there would be others who had the information I alone had carried. Even if the Reckoners decided not to go after Steelheart, the knowledge would exist, perhaps to be used someday. Assuming they believed me.
“Let’s sit,” Prof finally said, settling down. The others joined him, Tia and Megan reluctantly, but Abraham was still relaxed. Cody remained standing by the door, keeping guard.
I sat down, setting my rifle across my lap. I had the safety on, even though I was pretty sure it wasn’t loaded.
“Well?” Prof asked of his team.
“I’ve heard of it,” Tia admitted grudgingly. “Steelheart destroyed the bank on the Day of Annexation. The bank rented out some of the offices on the upper floor—nothing too important, some assessors and bookkeepers who did government work. Most lorists I’ve talked to assume that Steelheart hit the building because of those offices.”
“Yes,” Abraham agreed. “He attacked many city buildings that day.”
Prof nodded thoughtfully.
“Sir—” I began.
He cut me off. “You’ve had your say, son. It’s a show of respect that we’re talking about this where you can hear. Don’t make me regret it.”
“Er, yes sir.”
“I have always wondered why he attacked the bank first,” Abraham continued.
“Yeah,” Cody said from the doorway. “It was an odd choice. Why take out a bunch of accountants, then move on to the mayor?”
“But this is not a good enough reason to change our plans,” Abraham added, shaking his head. He nodded to me, enormous gun over his shoulder. “I’m sure you’re a wonderful person, my friend, but I do not think we should base decisions on information given by someone we only just met.”
“Megan?” Prof asked. “What do you think?”
I glanced at her. Megan sat a little apart from the others. Prof and Tia seemed the most senior of this particular cell of the Reckoners. Abraham and Cody often chimed in their thoughts, as close friends would. But what of Megan?
“I think this is stupid,” she said, her voice cold.
I frowned. But … just a few minutes ago, she was the friendliest toward me!
“You stood up for him before,” Abraham said, as if voicing my own thoughts.
That made her scowl. “That was before I heard this wild story. He’s lying, trying to get onto our team.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but a glance from Prof made me bite off the comment.
“You sound like you’re considering it,” Cody said to Prof.
“Prof?” Tia said. “I know that look. Remember what happened with Duskwatch.”
“I remember,” he said. He studied me further.
“What?” Tia asked.
“He knows about the rescue workers,” Prof said.
“The rescue workers?” Cody asked.
“Steelheart covered up that he killed the rescue workers,” Prof said softly. “Few know of what he did to them and the survivors—of what happened at the First Union building. He didn’t kill anyone who went to help at other city buildings he’d destroyed. He only killed the rescue workers at First Union.
“Something is different about his destruction of the bank,” Prof continued. “We know he entered that one, and spoke to the people inside. He didn’t do that elsewhere. They say he came out of First Union enraged. Something happened inside. I’ve known that for a while. The other cell leaders know it as well. We assumed that whatever made him angry had to do with Deathpoint.” Prof sat with one hand on his knee, and he tapped his finger in thought, studying me. “Steelheart got his scar that day. Nobody knows how.”
“I do,” I said.
“Perhaps,” Prof said.
“Perhaps,” Megan said. “Perhaps not. Prof, he could have heard of the murders and known of Steelheart’s scar, then fabricated the rest! There’d be no way to prove it, because if he’s right, then he and Steelheart are the only witnesses.”
Prof nodded slowly.
“Hitting Steelheart would be near impossible,” Abraham said. “Even if we could figure out his weakness, he’s got guards. Strong ones.”
“Firefight, Conflux, and Nightwielder,” I said, nodding. “I’ve got a plan for dealing with each of them. I think I’ve figured out their weaknesses.”
Tia frowned. “You have?”
“Ten years,” I said softly. “For ten years, all I’ve done is plan how to get to him.”
Prof still seemed thoughtful. “Son,” he said to me. “What did you say your name was?”
“David.”
“Well, David. You guessed we were going to hit Fortuity. What would you guess we’d do next?”
“You’ll leave Newcago by nightfall,” I said immediately. “That’s always what a team does after springing a trap. Of course, there is no nightfall here. But you’ll be gone in a few hours, then go rejoin the rest of the Reckoners.”
“And what would be the next Epic we’d be planning to hit?” Prof asked.
“Well,” I said, thinking quickly, remembering my lists and projections. “None of your teams have been active in the Middle Grasslands or Caliph lately. I’d guess your next target would be either the Armsman in Omaha, or Lightning, one of the Epics in Snowfall’s band out in Sacramento.”
Cody whistled softly. Apparently I’d guessed pretty well—which was fortunate. I hadn’t been too sure. I tended to be right about a quarter of the time lately, guessing where Reckoner cells would strike.
Prof suddenly moved to stand. “Abraham, prep Hole Fourteen. Cody, see if you can get a false trail set up that will lead to Caliph.”
“Hole Fourteen?” Tia said. “We’re staying in the city?”
“Yes,” Prof said.
“Jon,” Tia said, addre
ssing Prof. His real name, probably. “I can’t—”
“I’m not saying that we’re going to hit Steelheart,” he said, holding up a hand. He pointed at me. “But if the kid has figured out what we’re going to do next, someone else might have too. That means we need to change. Immediately. We’ll go to ground here for a few days.” He looked at me. “As for Steelheart … we’ll see. First I want to hear your story again. I want to hear it a dozen times. Then I’ll decide what to do next.”
He held out a hand to me. I took it hesitantly, letting him pull me to my feet. There was something in this man’s eyes, something I didn’t expect to see. A hatred of Steelheart nearly as deep as my own. It was manifest in the way he said the Epic’s name, the way his lips turned down, the way his eyes narrowed and seemed to burn as he spoke the word.
It seemed like the two of us understood each other in that moment.
Prof, I thought. Professor, PhD. The man who founded the Reckoners is named Jonathan Phaedrus. P-h … d.
This wasn’t just a team commander, a chief of one of the Reckoner cells. This was Jon Phaedrus himself. Their leader and founder.
8
“SO …,” I said as we left the room. “Where’s this place we’re going? Hole Fourteen?”
“You don’t need to know that,” Prof said.
“Can I have my rifle magazine back?”
“No.”
“Do I need to know any … I don’t know. Secret handshakes? Special identifiers? Codes so other Reckoners know I’m one of them?”
“Son,” Prof said, “you’re not one of us.”
“I know, I know,” I said quickly. “But I don’t want anyone to surprise us and think I’m an enemy or something, and—”
“Megan,” Prof said, jerking his thumb at me. “Entertain the kid. I need to think.” He walked on ahead, joining Tia, and the two of them began speaking quietly.
Megan gave me a scowl. I probably deserved it, for yammering questions at Prof like that. I was just so nervous. Phaedrus himself, the founder of the Reckoners. Now that I knew what to look for, I recognized him from the descriptions—sparse though they were—that I’d read.