Unit 216

Chapter 4: "Viz the Whiz"

A long shrilling beep assured the resetting of codes and locks, but it did make Kathryn feel they were being lured into some trap. This young captor's fidgeting must then be pretense, yet he was genuinely nothing but innocuous. His room was large enough for a roommate, and a second bed proved it was.

The boy quickly followed her eyes, glad he had a conversational topic. "My roommate left only days ago for graduation exams. A new one would fill in soon enough."

Kathryn nodded, though paying attention to the shelves and objects lying around. On the desk was a laptop so modified it could go to war. Clutter of random steel, electronic parts, and handmade tools dotted the wooden floorboard. The rest were typical: textbooks, robot figurines, and a black and white picture of Thomas Edison.

"Amazing, you must be the smartest," Axel said, spotting trophies labeled "Brandon Viz".

Brandon hesitated. "Well, Kian's technically smarter because of his background in bio-chem. And the students think so too, seeing as how open he is about inventions."

Kathryn understood. She pulled up a chair, ready to hear the awaited discussion. The young inventor sat at his desk, twirling a screwdriver.

Brandon brushed aside his falling black hair, making his dark blue eyes visible. He had no eyeglasses as stereotypical geniuses had, instead tired rings under his eyes. A voice growing hoarse and the way he lounged whined of fatigue. He was about their ages—sixteen or seventeen.

Axel cleared his throat. "So, we came here hoping you can tell us about my dad, Alexander Rowl. Anything that could help us trace him, don't leave anything out... just what you told Director Mason... and maybe more. Are you keeping something from them?"

Brandon shook his head. "I know better than to limit the search. But one thing," he glanced about. "Director C referred to you as Axel Bridger. Don't you mean Alexander Bridger?"

Axel shied away, eyes narrowing.

When it dawned on Brandon, his eyes grew wide, awkwardly pleading with his hands. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to— I was just wondering—"

"I know, but it's not what you think it is," Axel said. "Didn't split up. Please, tell us what you know."

Brandon winced, but leaned back, and began to recount from running through trees, to the orb in the temple ruins, to....

* * *

Air was one more thing Brandon would learn to never take granted; he just wished he'd learned that earlier. No more breath-holding pool contests, that's for sure.

Large muscular arms entrapped his neck, while his frail hands clawed at iron flesh. As he realized overpowering was stupid, his belt felt heavy—particularly the holsted stun gun.

Wheezing with effort, Brandon reached for his belt and instantaneously shot the enemy's legs. Arms extending to the back, the gun shot the face.

That's gonna cause some minor facial paralysis, he thought. Probably minor.

He fired blindly at the two masked bystanders, crouching and running, and dove for the orb. He wrapped around the orb with one arm, firing single-handedly with the other. Stun gun versus likely fatal bullets... oh well.

The two Ascendants, still standing, shot back what turns out to be light blue electric bolts. Thank goodness. They wanted Brandon and Alexander alive, but why? The old legend was still in disguise, wrestling with one on top.

Brandon managed to knock one down whilst untouched, thanks to a light, thin frame. He spared a few attempts towards Alexander's rival, yet shoes were where the bolts landed.