“Yes, but …”
“But?”
“That plan depended on having Sam and the spyril.”
“The spyril?” I asked.
“Broken now,” Val said. “Useless.”
From her tone, I sensed it was a touchy subject.
“Work with Tia and David,” Prof said to her. “Revise your plans and present me with several scenarios for bringing down Newton, then devise another set for bringing down Obliteration. We’ll move forward with David’s plan, and use hits on those two to draw Regalia out. Also give me a list of places where your team has confirmed seeing Regalia’s projections.”
“Sure,” Val said. “But there aren’t many of that last one. We’ve only seen her once or twice, other than what she did last night.”
“Even two points will give us a baseline to work from in locating her,” Tia said. “Exel, do some reconnaissance in the city and gather every rumor about Regalia appearing or using her powers in an obvious way. Some might not be reliable, but we might be able to use it to build a map to work from.”
“I was going to see some people in two days who might know something about this,” Exel said. “We can start there.”
“Very well,” Prof said. “Get on it. Team dismissed. All but you.” He pointed right at me.
Tia remained in her seat as the others left, and I found myself sweating. I shoved that down and forced myself to stand up and walk to Prof, who sat beside the big window filled with endless blue water.
“You need to take care, son,” Prof said quietly. “You know things others don’t. That is a trust I’ve given you.”
“I—”
“And don’t think I didn’t notice you trying to deflect the conversation today away from killing Regalia and toward killing Obliteration.”
“Do you deny it’s better to hit him first?”
“No. I didn’t contradict you because you’re right. It makes sense to hit Obliteration—and perhaps Newton—first to remove some of Regalia’s resources and help box her in. But I remind you not to forget that she is our primary target.”
“Yes sir,” I said.
“Dismissed.”
I walked from the room, annoyed that I was singled out so specifically for that treatment. I made my way down the hall, and for some reason I couldn’t help thinking of Sourcefield. Not the powerful Epic, but the regular person deprived of her powers, looking at me with dawning horror and utter confusion.
I’d never had a problem killing Epics. I still wouldn’t have a problem doing it, when the time came. That didn’t prevent me from imagining Megan’s face instead of Sourcefield’s as I pulled the trigger.
Once, I’d absolutely hated Epics. I realized I couldn’t feel that way any longer. Not now that I’d known Prof, Megan, and Edmund. Perhaps that was why I rebelled against killing Regalia. It seemed to me she was trying to fight her Epic nature. And maybe that meant we could save her.
All of these questions led me toward dangerous speculation. What would happen if we captured an Epic here, like we’d done with Edmund back in Newcago? What if we tied up someone like Newton or Obliteration, then used their weakness to perpetually negate their powers? How long without using their abilities would it take for them to start acting like a regular person?
If Newton or Obliteration weren’t under the influence of their powers, would they help us like Edmund had? And would that not, in turn, prove that we could do the same for Regalia herself? And after her, Megan?
As I reached my room, I found myself mulling over the idea, liking it more and more.
18
EVENING was just arriving as Mizzy, Exel, and I climbed from the sub into the dark, water-filled building. We moved by touch to the Reckoners’ little boat. Once settled, Mizzy clicked a button on her mobile, and the sub silently slipped back into the depths.
I wasn’t certain how effective this was at hiding from Regalia. Hopefully our precautions would at least keep her from finding the exact location of our base, even if she figured out about the sub itself. We took oars, turned on the lights of our mobiles, and set out down a flooded street.
It was evening—two days since the meeting where we’d settled on a plan for killing Regalia—and by the time we reached populated rooftops the sun had begun to set. We climbed out of the boat, and Exel tossed a water bottle to an old man who was watching over several boats tied here. Pure water was somewhat difficult to come by in the city; it needed to be fetched from streams across in Jersey. A bottle of it wasn’t worth much, but enough to act as a basic kind of currency for small services.
The others set out across the rooftop, but I lingered, watching the sun set. I’d spent most of my life trapped in the gloom of Steelheart’s reign. Why did the people of Babilar only come out at night? These people could know the light intimately, but they instead opted for the darkness. Didn’t they know how lucky they were?
The sun sank down like a giant golden pat of butter melting onto the corn of New Jersey. Or … wait. That abandoned city was kind of more like spinach than corn. So the sun sank down into the spinach of Jersey.
And Babilar came alive.
Graffiti lit with vibrant, electric colors. A mosaic, unnoticed in the sunlight, burst outward at my feet: a depiction of the moon with someone’s name signed in big, fat white letters at the bottom. I had to admit there was something organically magnificent about it. There hadn’t been graffiti in Newcago, where it had been a sign of rebellion—and rebellion had been punishable by death. Of course in Newcago, picking your nose could have been construed as a sign of rebellion too.
I hurried off after Mizzy and Exel, feeling naked without my rifle—though I carried Megan’s handgun in my pocket and wore my Reckoner shield, which really just meant Prof had gifted me with some of his forcefield energy. I wasn’t sure why Mizzy and Exel had asked for me to join this reconnaissance mission. I didn’t mind—anything to get out into the open air—but wouldn’t Val have been better suited to meeting with informants and interpreting their intel?
We walked for a short while, crossing bridges and passing groups of people who carried baskets of glowing fruit. They nodded affably to us, which was creepy. Weren’t people supposed to walk with their eyes down, worried that anyone they passed might be an Epic?