Recap: After having his nanobots mostly fried out of his system, Brandon let Mandeville experiment on him in an attempt to restore his powers. It worked, giving Brandon better control over his nanobots and abilities than he ever had before. In the meantime, Nicole led a team of augmented fighters into Chicago to investigate what some Samsara duplicates were doing there, and hopefully capture one. Shortly after reaching Chicago, their communicators went dead and Brandon had to decide what to do.
Winning Choice: Head to the river where they lost contact and try to pick up their trail.
Without knowing more, I could end up on a wild goose chase. Starting at the river bank is the right call, but I'd better hurry.
The buildings grow taller as I get closer, and soon I'm speeding down canyons of concrete. The morning light casts long shadows and I flicker between them as I rocket up Michigan Avenue.
Hovering over the bank, I don't see a thing out of place. No people, no battles, no damage. I drop down to where Tyler said he lost contact and look around.
On another day, I could see families strolling here along the sidewalk, stopping under a tree for a snack, or taking a boat out on the river. It would be a nice place to unwind. On another day.
Now that I'm on the ground, the scents of the fight are thick about the place. I pick out a faint whiff of Nicole, but also those Samsara duplicates. There's the smell of blood and of charring, like something scorched.
Up the path I see one of the trees is gouged out where it was struck.
I pace back and forth, trying to untangle all the scents like a ball of yarn. As I concentrate, one scent comes up stronger than the others. I hear a moan.
It's coming from some thick bushes along the path. They shake and push aside, and one of Nicole's team topples out onto the grass. It's the stocky brunette I met when I arrived at their base. I rush over, and help her roll onto his back. Her face is burnt and bleeding, and her arm is not bending the way an arm should bend. I grimace, and she looks up at me, confused and in agony.
I absorb my mask back into my skin, revealing my face. She blinks, but seems to recognize me.
"What happened?" I ask.
She takes a deep breath before answering, and it clearly hurts. "Five of them. The duplicates. Tried to surprise them but they saw us," he coughs. "There's something weird about them."
"I know," I say. "I've met them before."
"They shot us with... with those electricity blasts. Shorted out our earpieces." She tries to sit up. Her skin is gray, flaky.
"You're in bad shape," I tell her. "Just lay down."
"I'm okay," she lies. She probably heals quickly like the rest of us, but she's got more than a few problems going on.
"They split up," she says, nodding to the west. "Three went that way, didn't see the others. They sprayed me with this." She opens her hand, the one at the end of her broken arm, and a small canister about the size of a salt-shaker falls to the grass.
I pick it up gingerly. It has a small button on the top and an odd looking nozzle on the other end. "Any idea what it is?" I ask.
She shakes his head. "No idea, but I feel like crap. Sick."
"I need to get you to a hospital," I tell her.
"No! They'll examine my blood and know I'm altered and I'll never get out of there." I hadn't thought about this before, but she may be right. It sounds like something Nicole would think of and warn them about.
"I'll be okay," she repeats. "Go help Nicole."
I'm not sure I believe her, but I'm going to have to. "Get yourself somewhere safe. We'll come for you," I tell her. She nods and weakly gets to her feet.
I head west.
I fill Tyler in on the situation over the radio.
"We've got some more people headed up your way, but it's going to be a while," he says. "We don't have anyone as fast as you. Or who can fly." In the background I hear Susan yelling about something, and a lot of other noise. Sounds like he's up to his ass in his own alligators.
"She's by the bank where the communications went dead," I tell him. "She's in rough shape."
"We'll get to her," he says, sounding at least partially sure of himself.
The smells get trickier to track as I move, both because of my speed and because they probably weren't in one place very long. I pause to reorient myself, sifting through the powerful smell of the river and the city for scented breadcrumbs of friends and foes.
There's no more damage that I can see. No more electrical blasts. Do I head into the city? Follow the river? Where did they go?
"Tyler, I'm at a dead end here. Any help?" I ask into my earpiece.
"Yeah, things have gone completely batshit crazy on the L north of you! Some reports say a bomb went off. Sounds like a whole train is off the tracks," Tyler says frantically.
I float up out of the river bed and close my mask back over my face.
To the west, the raised L stop is crowded in the morning light. I bet the duplicates jumped on the train to try and ditch Nicole. I hope none of those people need to be at work soon, because I think the trains aren't going to be running on time today.
I rocket towards the station, banking right and following the tracks north. The L line twists and turns between the buildings, and after a mile I see where the destruction starts again. First there's glass and metal strewn in the street under the tracks. After that are cars crashed into each other, probably trying to avoid the disaster that was erupting over their heads.
I keep following the track until it ends in chaos.
The morning crackles with fire and smoke where the elevated tracks collapsed and the train they were carrying crashed through the air and down into the street.
I see why they think a bomb did this. Twisted steel from the tracks are scattered onto the streets, pinning wrecked cars. The last pair of upright supports before the gap teeters awkwardly, struggling to keep another section of rail from toppling onto the road. People stumble through the dusty rubble, bleeding and confused, searching for help.
The train skidded on its side a fair distance before plowing into a building, bringing the front of it down in a pile. Rubble covers half the train, with the rear sticking out onto the curb. There's a jagged hole where the train door used to be, and it points up to the sky. Through it I see a few train passengers. Some are awake and struggling to get free, while others are unconscious or probably worse.
"It's a mess, Tyler," I say, though mess doesn't quite cover it. "The train has plowed into a building, and cops are everywhere. More are showing up every second."
"Where are the duplicates?" he asks.
"No idea," I admit.
"We'll see if there are any surveillance cameras in the area we can tap into to see what's going on," he says.
Police and onlookers fill the street, regarding the wrecked train like audience members at a play, watching the stage with hesitation. They're holding back, cautious, not entirely sure what's behind all the craziness.
As I float over them, I hope they don't think it's me. Some see me and point, but thankfully nobody opens fire. That might change if I go down there, but I don't have any choice. I don't see Nicole or any of the duplicates, and people down there need help.
I swoop down to a car that's pinned under a piece of fallen rail and lift it from the collapsed roof. Inside a woman moans in pain. I peel the roof off the car, and she's slumped over the steering wheel. I leave her for the paramedics I see hovering back behind the line of police cars. They won't come forward until they know it's safe.
I quickly dig out two more cars, then get to the train. A piece of brick crumbles off the front of the building and clanks onto the train car. The train has plowed such a massive hole in the building that the rest might collapse on top of it. If I can get it clear of the building, it'll be much easier for the medics to reach the people inside.
There's a familiar pop and crackle of electricity from inside the building. The duplicates are in there, and they're fighting with someone. That's the other reason the police and medics are hanging back. I'd better make this quick and get in there.
I land behind the train car and brace myself against the broken pavement. My fingers sink into the metal frame of the train car, and I start walking backwards. Or try to. At first nothing moves, and the train's walls groan under the strain.
My nanobots race through my body, augmenting my strength further and further, until my feet crack the asphalt as they sink in against the strain.
The train car starts to slide, grinding and screeching against the road. Rocks and bits of wood and glass fall off as it comes free. One step, two, and I'm pulling it clear. My nanobots hum, thrum, and pulse in my body.
Behind me the crowd starts to cheer, and for a moment it feels good. Then I realize they're not cheering, they're screaming.
A man leaps awkwardly out of the rubble, smashed and bleeding and looking remarkably like you'd expect someone to look after being pinned under a train car. Except significantly less dead.
Through the matted hair and massive amount of blood, I still recognize him as one of the duplicates. He sees me, wobbles slightly, and says something in Chinese. My nanobots translate the gist of it: He knows who I am, and is surprised I'm there. I keep pulling on the car a few more steps, wanting to get it clear from the front wall of the building in case it falls.
The duplicate stumbles a bit, then lunges at me, saying something my nanobots can't translate.
I let go of the car as a jagged white cascade of electricity pours from his hands. I speed to the side and the man-made lightning arcs into the ground and along the edge of the car.
The police open fire, though I'm not entirely sure what they're aiming for. I'm not sure they know either. Bullets ricochet off the ground and building, and clip me in my side. Fortunately I'm bulletproof, and just as fortunately the duplicate is not. He topples over, a spray of blood blossoming into the air. He may not be bulletproof, but the duplicates are pumped full of nanobots like me and heal quickly, so I'm not so sure he's going to stay down.
The police stop firing but nobody moves forward. There's a moment where everything just hangs in the air, frozen, waiting.
There's a flash of light from inside the building and a loud, crunching crash.
I amplify my voice to make sure I'm heard. "Help these people," I tell the police and the EMTs behind them. "I'm going in to stop the rest of them."
Well, that sounded brave. I wonder if I should have asked how many of them there were. Or what else I had missed before I showed up.
I seem to be growing either less cautious or increasingly stupid as my powers grow.
I head inside.
The ground floor was a lobby for the office building. It's a perfectly normally looking lobby, other than the massive hole where a train just punched through it. Now it looks like an enormous cave, carved out of the building to serve as an entrance to the corporate underworld beyond. I've played enough Dungeons and Dragons in my day to know how this works.
A dozen or so mildly uncomfortable looking chairs are strewn everywhere, mixed in with broken bits of end table and scraps of the magazines those tables previously held. Kanye smirks up at me from a torn cover of People magazine in the mess. I step on him just out of principle.
"Be careful in there," Tyler says. "We got a few street cameras up, but nothing in that building. And you might want to hurry. They just called for SWAT, and there's no way Agent Corrales and his goons aren't going to notice that."
"Oh joy. As if poor Chicago isn't taking enough of a beating this morning," I reply.
I zip around the receptionist desk and further into the building. There are rows of office cubicles back here, with felt walls and tiny gray desks. They had some like this at one of the libraries I worked at when I first got out of prison, and I discovered they recreated the feeling of being locked up remarkably well. I'd have a tough time finding someone in this ergonomically incorrect maze if I couldn't float up to look over the top. And if the people I was looking for weren't tearing everything to pieces with bolts of lightning. That also helps.
The power is out to the building. Still, enough of the morning light comes in that I can see the mess. I try to catch Nicole's scent, or anyone else on her team, but there is too much dust and char in the air.
Two of the duplicates are searching through the maze of cubicles, prowling carefully around every corner. They're looking down and haven't seen me yet.
They fire a little blast of lightning at every sound, sending another poor guy's desk exploding into a million pieces, scattering pictures, pens, and stress balls everywhere. They're playing for keeps.
They come to the end of a long row of cubicles, and I speed to the other side to greet them.
"Are you looking for mice?" I ask. They spin, one of them shooting a blast of lightning that I easily dodge. It rips through a cubicle wall next to me and sets it on fire.
"Sloppy work, gents. I'm a professional exterminator, so let me show you how to handle a problem like this," I say. "Which one of you two pests wants to go first?" I crack my knuckles for effect.
One of the pair leaps down the aisle at me, swinging. He moves super-humanly fast, but not fast enough to catch me. I step aside and catch him in the back of his head with my fist. He rolls away from the blow, but tumbles to the floor, taking out a few more of the gray cubicle walls in the process.
He jumps up and yells something in Chinese to his friend. "It's him," my nanobots translate.
"Shi," I reply without thinking, and give a small bow.
His eyes widen in surprise at my reply, but he doesn't hesitate to attack again. This time he catches me before I can dodge out of the way, and it's what I was least looking forward to: the energy frequency that shorts out my nanobots.
Pain washes over me like I'm being doused in acid. A half-second later it gets even worse as his comrade joins in with a blast of his own. The two streams of pure energy plow into me, ripping into my nanobots and scrambling them so badly they shut down. I stumble back and drop to one knee.
They've done this to me before and it's worked horribly well. This time, though, my nanobots and I are on much, much better speaking terms.
What their power does is disrupt the communication frequency between all the bots in my body, and then burns them out. When the nanobots try to communicate to each other to organize a defense their lines are dead. So each one, alone by itself, is painfully destroyed. Poor little guys.
I didn't know that the first time it happened to me. I couldn't feel it. Now it's as clear as day, as is the way to fix it.
I switch my nanobot's communication method, and connect them deeper into my nervous system so they can use my own body to talk with each other. It's a bit slower, but very reliable.
The nanobots do as I tell them, and are suddenly able to self-organize again. They form a mesh, switch their frequency, and absorb all the power they can. The rest they direct down into the ground.
In about a heartbeat and a half, the duplicate's blast turned from a fountain of agony to a tasty recharge. I stand up again, slowly, and smile. I know they can't see the smile through my mask, but I'm pretty sure it has the same effect. They look puzzled and increase the power. I channel it into the foundation below me. They're not going to be able to salvage this carpet, I can tell you that right now.
Finally the pair stops their blasts at exactly the same moment. I still can't quite tap into the telepathic link the duplicates all share, but I don't need to in order to see they're scared. This was their secret weapon, their safety line.
They glance at each other in confusion, and I take the opportunity to punch one of them in the face. I figure if I give them black eyes and some bruises maybe it will be easier to tell them all apart.
I'm stopped from hitting him another fifty times by a single word.
"Brandon?"
The voice is faint but I know it better than any voice in the world. Nicole staggers out of one of the cubicles and nearly collapses to the floor. Her right shoulder is horribly burnt and looks broken. Smashed might be more accurate. I catch not just her scent, but the smell of her burnt skin and it churns my stomach.
I run to her, catching her as she stumbles. She's in rough shape. Blood soaks the left side of her costume where it's torn open. I put her left arm around my shoulders and pick her up.
Her head droops forward, and a thin line of blood leaks out of her mouth, dangling towards the floor.
"You're safe now," I tell her. "I'll get you out of here. Tyler, I've found Nic-"
A blast of power hits me in the side like a battering ram. This isn't their trick to try and disable my nanobots, this is pure, raw, jagged force and it blows me off my feet.
Nicole flops wildly in my arms, and she's either unconscious or nearly there. She can't protect herself.
The blast carries me back out towards the front of the building. I twist enough as I sail through the air that I meet the first wall with my shoulder. We move through it easily, and by the time we hit the second wall I've turned around enough that I hit it with my back, cushioning Nicole from the impact.
Unfortunately we're still moving pretty fast as we reach the damaged lobby. Tyler yells in my ear, probably asking what's happening, but I can't make it out.
We fly through the giant hole in the building, and back out into the street. I tumble and roll through the rubble, curling tightly around Nicole to shield her from the impact. People scream and leap out of our way.
We skid to a stop with a thump up against a police car, which rocks as it stops our slide.
Paramedics and firefighters are climbing on the train car but they freeze, unsure if they should keep going or run back for cover.
I uncurl from around Nicole, and lay her down gently. She's unconscious, and from the look of her face it's no mystery why. Her face is bruised, bloody, and likely broken. The face I've known for so many years. The face that had been betraying me even as it tried to protect me. The face that fills me with so much anger now, but that I realize, under it all, I still love so deeply.
Everyone is watching as I stand up: police, rescuers, gawkers, and now two TV cameras. They're all waiting to see what I do next, which may be why none of them warn me as a sizzling blast of energy hits me in the back and sends me flying again.
People duck and scatter as I rocket past, slamming into one of the damaged steel supports for the L. My ribs crunch under the impact, and the entire girder gets a nice bend out of the deal. My ribs immediately heal as I drop to the ground. The girder isn't so lucky. More bits of the broken track overhead tumble around me.
One of the duplicates strides out of the building, looking furious. He has a giant red mark on his eye, so is the one I hit. I knew that would work.
His friend scrambles out next, looking more frightened than his bruised friend. He looks at the crowd and scene almost frantically, wanting a way out.
A few police open fire at the pair, but their shots miss. Bruise-eye responds by spreading out his hands, like a pianist at the keyboard, and sending bolts of energy flickering across the crowd. It has the effect he's looking for, as people turn and flee, police included.
"Get out of there," Tyler yells in my ear.
"No," I tell him. "These guys and I are going to have some words."
I squat down, grab the base of the L support beam on either side, and sink my hands into the steel.
Okay, little nanobots, you ready to bring what is known as the beatdown? Their answer is Yes as they surge with power, weaving themselves into my muscles.
Then I pull.
More chunks of track fall around me in a torrent. The beam shrieks and groans as I tear it free. I step back, a gaping hole in the pavement at my feet, and a ten-foot-long metal girder in my hands.
Bruise-eye is still shooting bolts from his fingers at the police, forcing them back.
I leap over the police car and raise the girder over my shoulder. "Hey, Darth Asshole..."
He turns to me, which is perfect, because I really wanted to see the look on his face.
"...Batter-up!" I finish, and swing.
With a sound that's part clang, part crunch, and all thunder, the duplicate rockets down the street for a few hundred feet, where he slams into the front of a building and falls motionless to the ground.
His partner turns, eyes wide with shock, and raises his hands to blast me. He's a bit too late, as I'm already swinging back around.
"You look like you could use a drink," I tell him. "How about some Jim Beam?"
That wonderful clang-crunch sound happens again, but I come a little overhand on this swing and he bounces off the pavement, rebounds a few feet in the air, and flops onto the ground like a load of laundry.
Dang. Now how am I going to tell them apart?
I toss the beam onto the smashed up road, and the impact shakes the ground.
Nicole is still unconscious and she's hot to the touch. Her altered metabolism is working overtime trying to repair the damage. I need to get her somewhere safe where it can finish the job.
"There's someone else still in there," says a voice behind me. A woman, dressed in green shorts and a t-shirt and covered in dirt, calls to me from a short distance away. The onlookers are approaching again now that the chaos has settled down.
She points at the building. "I was running by when the train crashed. She had another guy with her," she says.
"Any more of the lightning brothers?" I ask, gesturing towards the duplicates.
She shakes her head.
I race back inside, speeding up and down the rows of desks. I fan out from where I found Nicole and spot a section of collapsed furniture and cubicle walls. A horrible smell hits me and there, splayed across a broken office chair other debris, is Nicole's friend. He was one of the team that rescued me from the plane, but I only barely recognize him.
His skin is charred black and is still smoking from where the duplicates fried him with their energy. He is laying face up, head tipped back, his empty, burnt eye sockets staring up at the ceiling.
My head swims, and I think I'm going to be sick.
I lean on a wall, trying not to heave. There is no food in my stomach, though. The nanobots gobble it up as fast as it enters, which is probably all that saves me.
"You okay?" Tyler asks in my ear.
I try to breathe through my mouth to avoid the smell, and extend my hearing to try and catch his heartbeat. Nothing. I grit my teeth and touch him, just to be sure. His skin cracks and falls away under my fingers.
"He's dead," I tell Tyler.
"You sure? If that's Peter, he's very-"
"He's dead!" I snap, nearly yelling.
"I'm sorry," Tyler says after a pause, his voice shaking a bit.
I take a breath, and lower my voice. Tyler can't see what I do, and yelling at him doesn't help. "I'm coming back with Nicole," I tell him.
"Bring a duplicate if you can," Tyler says. "We need to learn what they're up to."
I grind my teeth but don't reply. There some greasy black soot on my fingers where I touched Peter's body, and I think I'm going to throw up again. I wipe it on the carpet--I have to get it off me.
"I'm sorry," I tell the black husk that used to be Peter. "I know you didn't ask for this any more than I did. You deserved better."
I storm back out through the lobby, distracted by thoughts of the man I'd just left, so I don't notice the police line that formed while I was inside.
"Stop right there!" one of them yells.
I stop, facing a wall of police officers and SWAT officers, most hiding behind the cover of cars, all of them aiming an impressive range of firepower at me.
At me.
After everything I just did.
"I am leaving," I tell them. Pointing to Nicole, I add "And I'm taking her and one of the lightning brothers with me. I suggest you let me be and focus on how you're going to deal with the other two--if and when they wake up."
Nobody moves. None of their guns lower.
"They've been referring to you as a terrorist on the police bands up there. It also sounds like they've called in the FBI," Tyler says.
Looking down the barrels of dozens of high-caliber weapons, I tell Tyler "I have a hunch this going to go well. They're determined to pick a fight."
I step towards Nicole and the police closest to her open fire. The first few bullets hit me, bouncing off my chest, each one increasing my fury.
I leap into the air, giving me a clear view over the cars behind which the cops are hiding. They all look up, momentarily confused, following me with their eyes but not their guns. Even after everything they've seen, I guess somewhere, deep down, they still don't believe a man can fly.
I reach out with my telekinesis for their guns, but I can't quite grab them at this distance. I fumble for a moment, then just grab some of the officers themselves and fling them away. Eight or so shocked cops launch themselves backwards with a wave of my hand.
The restless crowd had been watching behind the police, but now they run forward, screaming and throwing rocks. The cops turn, yelling at them to stop, but the crowd ignores them. They surge against the police, who retreat back towards some SWAT vans and armored police vehicles parked further up the street. It's hard to hear much out of the yelling, but I catch snippets.
"...saved those people..."
"...known terrorist..."
"...a hero..."
"...attacked the White House..."
"...whose side are you on..."
In the middle of it all, I see the woman with green shorts I spoke to earlier. An hour ago she was going for an uneventful morning run, and now, dirty and battered, she was facing down the police.
I've had those kinds of days a lot lately, lady.
The cops I knocked over are regaining their feet, and others are rushing to confront the angry mob. Guns are in the hands of more than a few members of that angry mob now, too. Welcome to Chicago.
The yells from both sides escalate into a roar. Sirens wail from every direction, growing louder. We're probably moments from a full-on riot, and with the gear these cops brought to the party it's going to have a high body count.
I sweep out with my telekinesis again, this time catching everyone in its wave. At that size it isn't very strong, but it gets their attention. A few people fall over.
At the top of my lungs, amplified as much as I can, I yell "STOP!"
The word echoes off the concrete and steel and the buildings and the cars, and for a moment they all pause and look at me, hovering there impossibly several feet above the ground.
My rage falters for a moment in their expressions. Anger, hope, determination, excitement... but all of it with a strong undercurrent of fear. Who is this man who can do the impossible, and what will he do next? Is he my enemy or ally?
Wailing sirens grow louder as yet more police head towards us, and far overhead in the distance I hear the roar of rapidly approaching jets. And not the passenger kind.
The faces look at me. The police look at me. The news cameras look at me. The lady who went jogging looks at me, a length of pipe in her hand.
I can't stay to sort this out. Nicole needs to get somewhere safe, and I have a hunch I know who is on those jets, and if they get here I will have an even bigger fight on my hands.
I look at them and say:
1. "Stay out of this, and go home. Enough people have been hurt already, and I don't want anyone else on my conscience. My friends and I have the power to fight to change things, and we'll do it. The best thing you can do is to protect yourselves and stay out of the cross-fire."
2. "You think a brawl in the streets will change anything? We will fight, just not here. Go home before they catch you... or worse. Then prepare. Spread the word. Organize. I'll call for you, and together we will break their power hold over us."
3. "Do it. Tear it apart. It's sad things have come to this, but it was their own doing. Their power relies on us being scared and feeding us likes while we wait and plan. That's over. Start a fire they won't be able to contain. I won't lead you, but fight for yourselves and I will fight alongside you."
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