I smiled.
“I think your goal is a worthy one, Steelslayer.” Exel sat up straighter and looked me in the eye. “I don’t think we can ever beat the Epics on our own. We’d need a lot more firepower. Perhaps all the world needs is for a few Epics to step up and openly oppose the others. Nothing so dramatic as the Faithful believe, no mystical coming of blessed, angelic Epics. Just one or two who are willing to say, ‘Hey, this isn’t right.’ If everyone including the Epics knew that there was another option, perhaps it would change everything.”
I nodded. “Thanks.”
“Thanks for what? For blabbing my random opinions at you?”
“Pretty much. I needed someone to talk to. Tia was too busy, and Val seems to hate me.”
“Nah, you just remind her of Sam. The spyril was his baby, you know.”
Well, I guess that made a kind of sense then. Unfair though it was.
“I—”
“Wait a sec,” Exel said, holding up a hand. “Listen.”
I turned my attention to the radio, focusing on making out the words. The static had been constant as we were talking, but I hadn’t realized there were faint voices in the background.
“… yeah, I see him,” a voice said. “He’s just sitting there, on the rooftop in Turtle Bay.”
“Is he doing anything?” another voice said, the frequency crackling with static.
“Nah.” First voice. “His eyes are closed. His face is turned toward the sky.”
“Get out of there, Miles.” Second voice. Frightened. “He’s dangerous. Murdered a lot of people a couple weeks back.”
“Yeah.” First voice. “Why’s he just sitting there, though?”
Exel looked up and met my eyes. “Obliteration?” he asked.
I nodded, feeling sick.
“You guessed he’d be doing this,” Exel said. “Nice call.”
“I wish I hadn’t been right,” I said, throwing back my chair and standing. “I need to go find Prof.”
Obliteration had started storing up sunlight, like he had in Houston, Albuquerque, and finally San Diego.
If I was right, the city wouldn’t survive his next step.
27
I found Prof in the conference room, the room with the large wall/window looking out into the ocean. The waters were clearer today than they’d been the last time I’d been in there, and I could see distant shadows, dark and square. They were buildings—a phantom skyline under the sea.
Prof stood in his black lab coat, staring out into the depths, hands clasped behind him.
“Prof?” I asked, hurrying into the room. “Exel just intercepted a conversation. Someone spotted Obliteration. He’s storing energy.”
Prof continued to stare into the depths.
“Like in Houston?” I prompted. “The days before he destroyed the entire place? Sir?”
Prof nodded toward the sunken city. “You never visited this place before it sank, did you?”
“No,” I answered, trying to ignore the awful window he stared out of.
“I came into the city regularly. To see plays, go shopping, sometimes to just walk. It seemed that the most humble diners in Manhattan served better food than the nicest restaurants back home. And the finest places … Ah, I remember the way it smelled.…”
“Um, yeah. Obliteration?”
He nodded curtly and turned from the window. “Let’s go have a look, then.”
“Have a look?”
“You and me,” Prof said, striding away. “We’re point men. If there’s danger, we check it out.”
I ran after him. I wasn’t going to argue—any excuse to get out of the base was a good one—but this didn’t seem like Prof. He liked to plan. In Newcago we’d rarely moved, even on a scouting mission, without careful deliberation.
We entered the hallway and passed the room where Mizzy and Val were working. “I’m taking the sub,” Prof announced to them without even a glance. I hurried to keep up, glancing back and shrugging toward a confused Mizzy, who had poked her head out after us.
I picked up my pace and ran ahead of Prof, fetching my gun from the equipment closet. I hesitated, then grabbed the backpack with the spyril inside as well.
“You shouldn’t need that,” Prof noted, passing me.
“So you think I should leave it?”
“Of course not.”
I slung the pack over my shoulder, then joined Prof as he entered the darkness of the docking room. Here we followed a set of rope guides toward the sub. Why, I thought, do I feel like a dog who just swallowed a hand grenade? There was nothing to be nervous about; this was Prof. The great Jon Phaedrus. We were going on a scouting mission together. I should be excited.
Prof popped the hatch on the sub and we climbed in. Once we were down below, I locked the hatch, and Prof turned on a pale yellow emergency light. He waved me forward to sit in the copilot seat and started up the machine. A few moments later we were moving through the silent depths, and I had to stare out yet another window—the front of the sub—at more water.
“So … do you need to know where we’re going?” I finally asked.
“Yes.” His face was lit eerily by the yellow light.
“Well, we heard them say the words Turtle Bay.”
Prof turned the sub in a slow curve. “Missouri tells me you’re getting good with the spyril.”
“Yeah. Well, I mean, I’m practicing. I don’t know that I’d say I’m good, but I might get there eventually.”
My mobile beeped quietly. I winced, then pulled it out. This new one had a different silencing button, and I always forgot to tap it. It used my old pattern, so anyone who kne
w that could contact me, but the message on the screen was from a pattern I didn’t recognize.
Okay, let’s talk, it read.
“That’s good,” Prof said. “The tensors won’t be of much use to you here.”
“I don’t know,” I said, trying to work out who was messaging. “When we were fighting inside the office building, it might have been good to slip through a wall unexpectedly.”
“The spyril will be more useful,” Prof said. “Focus on that for now. We don’t want to mix the powers. Might cause interference.”
Interference? What kind of interference? I’d never heard of such a thing. Granted, I didn’t know much about this technology, but if such interference were a problem, wouldn’t it have affected the forcefields Prof gave me?
My mobile buzzed again. I’d silenced it but hadn’t turned off the vibrations. You there, Knees? the message read.
My heart jumped.
Megan? I typed back.
Who else would it be, you slontze?
Prof glanced at me. “What’s happening?”
“Exel’s messaging me,” I lied. “With more information on how to find Obliteration.”
Prof nodded, turning eyes forward again. I quickly sent a message to Exel, asking if he had more information on Obliteration’s location, just in case Prof asked him later on. My mobile lit up almost immediately, saying someone else had seen Obliteration. Directions to the building followed.
In the middle of that, Megan messaged again.
I really need to talk to you about something.
This isn’t exactly a good time, I sent back.
Great. Fine.
The terseness of that reply made me sick inside. I was turning her away after practically begging her to talk to me earlier? I glanced at Prof. He seemed absorbed by his driving, and the sub didn’t move quickly. I probably had plenty of time. How suspicious would it be?
Well, maybe I can spare some time to chat. I pressed SEND.
No reply.
Sparks. Why did everything have to happen at once? I waited for a response, submarine engines churning, sweat trickling down the sides of my face. Sitting up front here, you could see the whole underwater world stretching out before you, seemingly into infinity itself. Thinking about all this nothing made my hair stand on end.