CHAPTER 35 - FISHER

Fisher finished cutting away the last bit of unkempt stubble from his jaw and rinsed his razor out under the tap. His skin, bare for the first time in far too long, burned subtly. He ran his cybernetic fingers along his cheeks and jaw, and the dull demi-sensation didn’t seem as hollow as it always did.

Funny, that. How a cause to pursue could revitalize a man. The man in the mirror still looked tired, but familiar, too. In a way he hadn’t for a very long time—younger, professional, like he gave a damn. He might even have been humming to himself, too.

Still, a tune and a cause could only get you so far. For all the invigoration Fisher had found in cutting his ties to the corporate machine, there was a part of him that knew he was running on borrowed time. No ties now, no corporate tab. He was burning his meager savings just to keep his room.

Fisher fed Octopus, then settled in a chair with a glass of water and the laptop that he’d bought with his last day on Asadi’s payroll. He’d spent the week looking at the data and drawing links, eliminating possibilities. There was a puppet master out there, a spider who had snared even indomitable Taurine in its web. Fisher had to know who, and why.

Someone had sent the Animals to the Adriatic. Someone had armed them and equipped them and sent them back to Asclepion. Someone had snatched their leader from SOLAR’s clutches. That, Fisher knew, was the key. There weren’t many empowered who could perform such a feat, and less so who weren’t part of the IESA. If SOLAR wasn’t already knocking on windows and kicking in doors, then they soon would be.

Whoever had backed that little gang of mercenaries had taken an enormous risk. That was another why. Fisher’s mind turned back to the Adriatic as he looked towards the city center, imagined the ocean further beyond. Perhaps there was two puppet masters—perhaps. But why imagine two when one seemed so much simpler? The Adriatic. The destruction of the Adriatic—

“Could’ve been a cover,” Fisher said, to the air, to Octopus, to Mark. “And he could’ve pulled the leader out of the Citadel raid because he knew...”

Knew what? Surely all the Animals knew who their employer was. Whoever their benefactor was, they had to have a contingency against discovery. What had they gone so far to hide?

“What the real purpose of the Adriatic job was.” An assassination? No, Sabra’s father had no connection to anything or anyone, of that Fisher was sure. That hadn’t been anticipated. Nothing had been missing from the cargo manifest, either—but there was always the possibility of something that had never been listed in the first place.

Fisher reached for his phone and dialed Aegis’ contact number. It rung out to an answering service, the same as it had for the past week. It was irritating, that. She had agreed with him that there was something going on, but now she was engaging in one of SOLAR’s premier stratagems—stone-walling.

His phone chimed. Fisher checked the number, didn’t recognize it. Could’ve been anyone. He answered anyway.

“Mister Fisher, good,” a man said. “This is Blueshift.”

“Ah,” Fisher replied, and felt strangely adrift. “To what do I owe the pleasure? I assume this is about my messages.”

“Correct,” Blueshift said. “The Captain wishes to see you at your earliest convenience.”

“Which I’m guessing means right goddamn now.”

“I see you understand her—good.”

“I’ll head right over.”

“No need. I’m already on my way to retrieve you. Five minutes.”

The line went dead. Something about the call felt odd, but he couldn’t put a finger on it. Fisher sat there for a moment, then finished his water, and collected his jacket. “Octopus,” he said, “hold down the fort.”

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Blueshift met him out the front of the hotel with a sleek black groundcar that matched his jacket. Mark had liked black, too. It’d been his superhero color, his name, and his icon—a raven. Sometimes, Fisher wondered what Mark would’ve made of the present world.

There was no greeting, and Fisher hadn’t counted on one. He knew very little about Blueshift—SOLAR capes weren’t exactly known for their sparkling personas—but there was something about the man that made him wary.

Fisher hopped into the back while Blueshift settled into the shotgun seat and the car pulled out into the traffic. It always unsettled Fisher. He’d grown up before auto-piloting technology had become so ubiquitous. Still preferred being the one to command the wheel. Somehow, the fact that the autopilots didn’t make errors was more disturbing than that they existed at all.

Blueshift didn’t seem to mind. Of course, were the car to plow into something at full speed, he likely had some trick to survive. You didn’t get into SOLAR if you were vulnerable to being hit with a car, after all.

The car turned left. Fisher frowned.

“This isn’t the way to the Citadel,” he said.

“I’m aware,” Blueshift replied. “I thought we’d take the scenic route, enjoy a walk. See the sights, live a little. It’s been so long since I’ve played tourist.”

Fisher felt himself swallow. His mind returned to an earlier thought, like a teacher tapping a phrase on a whiteboard. There was always the possibility, however remote, that the IESA—or, perhaps, someone within the IESA—was responsible for whatever plot had kicked off over Asclepion.

And Fisher had spent a week letting them know he was going to turn over their rocks.

The car pulled up at the Temenos Gardens. The gardens dominated a southern stretch of the inner metropolis: a vast rectangle filled with trees, gentle hills, and winding rivers. Gazebos and water features dotted the domain in that Golden Age glass-and-Greek style.

“Let’s take a walk, Mister Fisher,” Blueshift said, and got out of the car. Fisher followed and Blueshift, obviously expecting him to, had already stepped through the gates.

Fisher followed Blueshift down one of the marble paths, found his mind returning to memories of New York’s twice-rebuilt Central Park, where he and Mark had taken a romantic getaway. Felt like a lifetime ago.

Blueshift stopped halfway across a bridge and said, “Here we are.”

The memories persisted in Fisher’s mind for about as long as it took for him to notice the great scar that ripped the immaculate landscape asunder. A long trench of churned earth, perhaps the most visible reminder of the battle between Sentinel and Aegis’ SOLAR team. The media had called it a “true Golden Age brawl.” There were tourists scattered around it, posing and taking pictures. Buying into the narrative, perhaps.

But it wasn’t true, of course. Couldn’t be. Golden Age capes had never taken political sides. Some part of him almost believed it.

Blueshift set his hands on the railing, as if he was a monarch brooding over all that he could survey.

Arrogant fuck.

“Impel,” Blueshift said. “Ah, forgive me—Mister Fisher, do you mind if I call you Impel?”

“Call me whatever you like,” Fisher replied, keeping three paces away. “Let’s just get this over and done with. I take it this isn’t a social call.”

“You’re very perceptive.”

“What do you want?”

Blueshift’s gaze remained on the far side of the scar, watching a pocket of tourists—or pretending to. Fisher thought of someone watching an ant farm.

“Oh, so many things,” he said. “I lost a bet, you know? I told Ada that they would’ve cleaned up all the damage from the fight by now.”

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“Sounds like someone doesn’t like to be wrong.”

“Far from it,” Blueshift replied. “In fact, I find it interesting, these little moments that remind me that even I can be wrong. It’s comforting. Tell me about Defiant.”

Fisher blinked. He’d expected death or threats thereof before anything to do with her. But then again, Sabra had said he’d asked her questions...

“Why?”

“Because I asked.”

“This isn’t an official conversation, is it?”

“As perceptive as ever.”

A pair of tourists came across the bridge, and the conversation paused. Blueshift smiled at them as they went past.

“Defiant is an adult,” Blueshift said, once they were out of earshot. “And more capable of taking care of herself than you realize.”

“I’ve met people like you before.”

“Oh, I’m sure you have. But this conversation isn’t about me. What do you know about Defiant’s capabilities?”

“And if I don’t play this little game?”

Blueshift looked at him for the first time, shrugged one shoulder, then turned back to look out over the park. Fisher, aware that this was not a conversation he could back out from, stepped up towards the railing.

“I’ve seen it in action,” he said. “But really, all I have is guesswork.”

“Then guess.”

“With the stipulation that this is a guess, I’d say she has some kind of technological savantry—perhaps even a psycho-conceptual type.” There was no reason to give Blueshift everything—he’d make the bastard do his own dirty work. “That police suit she’d been using wouldn’t be a simple thing to get running as she did. Whatever it is, she doesn’t like talking about it.”

Blueshift nodded. “What else happened?”

“She defeated Taurine.”

“I’ve seen the footage. You’ll forgive me if I disagree with your assessment of her empowerment. I admire your attempt to teach this woman how to be a true, Golden Age superhero—but you haven’t even considered what training she needs.”

“And you do? You want to haul her off to one of your training camps? Funny, here I was thinking she was too old.”

The jab bounced right off Blueshift, but he still turned his eyes on Fisher. “I know enough,” he said, “to have significant concerns.”

Such a frank admission brought Fisher up short. “I can’t say I expected to hear that from you.”

“The greatest threat to our existence, Impel, is that of someone with incredible power and a willingness to use it shortsightedly. The second is, of course, someone with that same power who uses it unknowingly. The IESA maintains facilities in Geneva and New York to eliminate those possibilities. But we are not omniscient.”

Blueshift paused, smirked.

“Yet.”

“You ask me,” Fisher said, “her parents have done a good job raising her right.”

“Perhaps. Which still leaves the second possibility. We are allies in this, although our methods differ. If we’re going to work together to apprehend this Animal group then we must know the extent—the true extent—of Defiant’s capabilities.”

Here it was, another mystery—and solving this one could help solve the next.

“What else have we got to work with? Who else has she—Revenant,” Fisher said. “She managed to elude Revenant.”

“Of course,” Blueshift said. “A very intriguing development.”

“So, she does work with you.”

“Even answering that question would risk bringing me up against some severe injunctions, Impel. Think of another one.”

“Let’s not engage in more of this cryptic bullshit. She’s a kid with a suit of power armor,” Fisher said, like he was trying to drive down a verbal nail. “I don’t have anything but guesswork. Honestly, I assume she’s just had her own share of luck.”

“That’s where we differ: there’s no such thing as luck. By believing in it, you’re blinding yourself to the truth. Come,” Blueshift said, stepping away from the railing. “You’re late for an appointment.”

“And what’s that truth, Blueshift?”

“That you should be far more concerned than you are.”

Fisher followed him back to the car, letting the words hang in the air. Over the way, a new group of tourists were taking photos within the trench that marked the fall of a god. Yesterday’s cataclysm was today’s tchotchke.

Blueshift had taken part in that battle. Who knew what else he had done over the years. The man obviously enjoyed holding information over others—so why had he come to talk?

The thought sparked off the kindling in his brain once they were back in the car and the streets of Asclepion were sweeping past. A sense of sympathetic recognition. The more he turned his attention inward, the more obvious it was.

He’s afraid.

And then, But what the hell scares someone like that?

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He was no closer to an answer by the time they reached the Citadel grounds. Blueshift directed him to an office about halfway up the Citadel tower. When Fisher stepped into the room, Aegis was busy scrutinizing something on her monitor, a cup of something hot clasped in her hands. Tea, by the smell of it.

“Don’t sit,” Aegis said. “You won’t be staying long.”

Fisher unclenched his jaw. Tact, Pavel, tact.

“Thank you for taking the time to meet with me,” Fisher replied. “I assume you got my messages.”

“All six of them, yes. But I’m afraid you’re not going to like my answer.”

“What?”

“Let me finish.” Then she took a moment to blow against the hot tea in her cup.

“Over the past week, the situation in Asclepion has changed. Given recent events, the Star Patrol team has been recalled to Melbourne. This puts me in a real fucking bind, Impel.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“We won’t be pursuing the missing Animals.”

“What?”

“We won’t be pursuing the missing Animals,” Aegis repeated, like he was deaf.

“You have to be kidding me!” Fisher exploded. “You know as well as I do that something’s happening here! They attacked the Citadel, they’ve killed so many people, and every second we sit here is a second they have to get away!”

“We have two of them in custody, and they’ve been quite forthcoming.”

“But they’re not the ringleader,” Fisher said. “They’re not whoever’s backing them.”

“I didn’t bring you here to entertain your moral crusade, Impel,” Aegis replied. “I’m here to tell you to stop wasting your time. My team has been ordered to secure Asclepion in case the attack on the Citadel was a prelude to something else, end of discussion. The Animals are no longer our concern.”

“Orders,” Fisher remarked, and something sparked in his brain, and he knew who she was. “You’re the Butcher of Arusha, you made your name on disobeying orders.”

“That was a different time, and these particular orders come from the desk of the Director-General Emilio Anderton himself.”

That flushed some of the heat out of Fisher. The Director-General of the IESA was one of the most powerful men in the world—perhaps the most powerful. His name was not one that was invoked lightly.

“We were putting our pieces in place, Impel,” Aegis said. “But this had to be done the right way. That meant information I could take up the chain, something that SOLARIA could verify. We didn’t get enough time. And even if I had definitive proof, it wouldn’t do a damn thing against orders that came directly from the top of the chain of command. It’ll be some time before we’ll be able to pursue this lead. If we’re able to pursue it—two gunmen and a teleporter aren’t worthy of SOLAR intervention.”

“And the Adriatic?”

“Unusual, yes, but nothing more than that.”

“I don’t agree.”

“I have Psi-level security clearance, Impel,” Aegis replied. “You don’t have to agree, but there was nothing to the Adriatic incident beyond a gunshot victim and a sunken ship. Soon, we’ll send the two mercenaries back to Geneva to be worked over and they’ll be out of our hair.”

Fisher shook his head. It was all well and good for Aegis to act like time wasn’t a factor. She had the backing of the most powerful organization in the world—but him? He’d cut himself loose to crack this case. He’d thrown everything away to heed the call of the hero. And for what, to get kicked in the balls by bureaucracy?

“And if I don’t think we can afford to let this go?”

“You can think whatever you like, Impel,” Aegis replied. “But let me make one thing absolutely clear—crystal fucking clear. Under no circumstances, am I going to take action for or against anything that you may or may not choose to do.”

“But—”

“But nothing.”

“Are you saying—”

“I’m not saying anything, Impel. Actually, scratch that. What I am saying is that the only thing any of us can do is to respect the chain of command. If I were you, I’d consider this a remarkable window of opportunity.”

Something occurred to Fisher then. A message in her words—subtle yet obvious.

“I hear you, Captain,” he said.

“Good,” Aegis replied. “Now get the fuck out of my office.”

He did. Then, once he was outside, he double-timed it through the halls of power.

Respect the chain of command, she had said. Aegis had to respect it, but he didn’t. Whatever he was going to do to go after those Animals, then SOLAR wouldn’t get in the way. It was a heady feeling, intoxicating. Almost like he could take over the world.

He had to move quickly and think quicker. There was so much he’d have to do, but he couldn’t do it alone. He was old, and he’d just about fumbled so many things already. There was only one person he could trust to take this ball and run with it.

Sabra.