CHAPTER 66 - SABRA

Geneva was like nothing Sabra had seen before. Asclepion, for all of its comfortable status as her home, had been a city in decay, a shining metropolitan center surrounded by forgotten people and the remnants of the dreams that had carried them there. From where she was standing, Sabra doubted anyone in Geneva was forgotten or ignored. It was like a city that had embraced the dream of a golden future, that had weathered the fires of the Collapse, and emerged forged and sharp, ready to build a new world.

Fortress Geneva, people called it, the City of Peace. The seat of IESA power and the most secure place on the planet. Sabra stood in a picturesque garden inside the fortified grounds of SOLAR headquarters, a city within the city, awe-struck by the imposing shape of the Alps in the near distance. Around her, barely noticed but still aware of, was the hustle and bustle of men and women in uniform.

There was just something about mountains. Coming from Asclepion, where the tallest things were skyscrapers and the natural environment was the ocean stretching in all directions, the Alps were weird and alien. They felt like the fingertips of some vast hand ready to squeeze around her, to crush her and this city and everyone in it. She just kept staring at them. It was a strange, constricting feeling, like some weird claustrophobia.

When the shuttle had touched down, the Geneva police had come for Sam and Jack first, to take both of them away in cuffs. Sam had laughed, Jack had shrugged, and Chevalier had taken them away. Then, they’d taken Pavel away for medical attention, although Sabra wasn’t sure what anyone could do about a hole through the body and a clipped spine. She could still see it. Hell, she could’ve put her fist through it.

Lastly, a team of men and women in Dynamic Horizon’s uniforms came for Revenant. Among them was a tall, intimidating man who looked like a samurai or Emperor—grizzled but noble, too. Sabra figured that for her father. She decided not to introduce herself.

“Stay here,” Aegis had said, and then she’d left the shuttle, too.

‘Stay here’ seemed like a broad command. She surely meant the shuttle or, if not that, then the immediate grounds of SOLAR HQ. But part of Sabra wanted to play dumb and stretch here to mean the whole of Geneva, to see if the city matched her imagination. But given the circumstances, that was a bad idea. Besides, there was no fun in seeing it alone.

So, Sabra had ditched her armor, gone for a walk, and she had ended up here, following marble paths among the trees, flowers and winding water features. It felt like the place one would come to meditate. Above her, a SOLAR aeroshuttle slipped through the air, ferrying a team of superheroes to wherever they were needed, off to resolve some other crisis in some other part of the world. Sabra watched it go, vanishing into the distance.

“The work never stops,” Aegis said from behind her.

She walked closer, in that stiffly halting way that suggested painful injuries. “Welcome to the safest place on the planet, Defiant. You’ll excuse me if I forgot to roll out the red carpet.” Blueshift followed a pace behind her, hands in his pockets.

“You’re excused, Aegis,” Sabra said.

Aegis shared a glance with Blueshift. “How imperious she’s become. Saves the world once and suddenly she thinks she rules it. Walk with us, Defiant,” she said, and it wasn’t a request.

They walked for a time, over to a secluded area of the garden. There was a small pond there and colorful ducks went back and forth across the surface, ripples spreading out in a pattern she’d read the moment she saw the bird. She ignored that—she’d never seen ducks before, not in the flesh.

“I just got out of a meeting with Secretary-General Bey, Director-General Anderton, and the entirety of the Security Council. When it comes to people like that, Defiant,” Aegis said, throwing worms to the ducks, “you should treat them like children—never make them afraid, and never embarrass them.”

“Okay.”

“I’m not finished. The thing is Defiant, you did both. This whole business with SHIVA, Hawthorne, possible Concordiat action, and so forth was not a good look. Therefore, it is the professional opinion of everyone involved that the details and circumstances of this entire incident never spread beyond the people directly involved. Everything concerning this debacle will be classified security level Phi, and you will speak of it to no one.”

Sabra shook her head. “Makes sense, I guess—given how badly you guys screwed up.”

“Quite,” Aegis said. “But that is the official stance. Unofficially, I have been given considerable latitude to ensure that we can make this happen.”

“Why me? I mean, it’s already spread beyond this, uh, pond—there’s Jack and Sam, Pavel, Revenant...”

“We have those first two in custody, and it is unlikely that Pavel Fisher will not play ball.”

“And Revenant?”

“She’ll keep silent, the same way she always has. What do you want, Defiant?”

Her father had once called it the most dangerous question in the world. Tell me what you want, he had of the true meaning, so you might let me control you. It was there in Aegis’ offer, in the embarrassment of the UN officials. Weeks ago, she would’ve told them to take a hike. But now?

Now, there were far more important things to focus on, and she needed to be ready for the future. She didn’t look ahead, but inward. She held the power here. What could she do to alleviate suffering, to ensure the UN played ball themselves, and to bring even just some peace to the process—to ameliorate that fear and embarrassment?

“The Director-General has authorized your immediate induction into SOLAR, Defiant,” Aegis said. “That is, if you want it.”

It was what she had wanted. Or, at least, it had been. The dreams had met reality and, so, been reimagined.

“I could use another technopath,” Aegis continued. “I lost my last one about a year ago.” Huh, Sabra thought. So, Blueshift hadn’t told her. Or perhaps he had, and this was her warning not to tell anyone else. She glanced to Blueshift, who just raised his dark eyebrows like he had no idea why she was looking at him.

So many things were happening. Everything that had taken place was just the first steps down a long road; the opening moves on a chessboard. Pieces and hands, hands and pieces, each one changing into the other depending on her perspective, depending on the board.

“I’ll pass, Aegis,” she said. “If I join SOLAR, I want it to be on my own terms.”

“Defiant, at this point, you’ve more than earned it.”

“This is just politics. I’ve had enough of that, of being a piece on someone else’s chessboard. With all due respect, I decline.”

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“Clever girl,” Aegis said, and there was a grudging sincerity there. “Fine. Then let’s play hardball. I’m a magic genie and you’ve got three wishes—make them good.”

Three wishes in return for her compromise and silence. Three wishes from a genie. Her father had said that they were truly called jinn, and that the meaning was to adapt.

Sabra flashed three fingers. “Fine. I want Jack and Sam released. Whatever records they have, I want them gone. Like, permanently gone.” That’d be the test, an act of faith. If Jack and Sam could truly make good on what they had done, then she’d give them the opportunity. And if they didn't? Well, what were two more people with guns compared to what she had seen and beheld?

“It’s no problem, Captain,” Blueshift said. “We can find another use for them.”

Aegis’ lips pressed thin, and she glanced at Blueshift. He continued, “And you, yourself, said they were beneath our notice.”

“Don’t remind me,” she said. “Fine—that’s one wish from the magic lamp, and they’ll have to swear to be on their best behavior. Next.”

“Two. I want my parents brought here, and I want them set up with a house and a car and everything they might need.”

“Is that it?”

“No. For my third trick,” Sabra said. “Revenant’s tracking device—I want it removed.”

“Absolutely not. She’s a vital IESA asset—”

“She’s a person. Grant my wish, jinn, or we’ll all find out what happens when I break this lamp.”

“Captain,” Blueshift said, “If I may.”

“Politeness doesn’t suit you, Shift.”

He chuckled. “The tracking device has always been a point of contention between Doctor Saito and the Director-General. He may be willing, if not happy, for an excuse to remove the good Doctor’s leverage.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“Then I have contacts within MARBLE who owe me certain favors,” Blueshift said. “Consider it done, Miss Kasembe.”

“Then we’re settled,” Aegis said. “Time to attend to the paperwork. Come along, Blueshift.”

He didn’t. Blueshift watched Aegis go and waited for her to be out of earshot before he turned back to face Sabra. “I have to say, I’m surprised you didn’t take the offer to join SOLAR. Few people would refuse.”

“I’ll bet.”

“The power to tip over the apple carts of everyone you meet, the joy of getting to be the ones to handle the threats that local empowered groups can’t, the agility that comes with navigating the slow wheels of global bureaucracy...”

“I recognize a bad deal when I see one, Blueshift.”

“Do you?” he asked, smirking. “The Director-General will have his eye on you now, Defiant. While you remain outside SOLAR, outside his direct control, he will consider you a threat. Still, you are right—power given is not power at all.”

Sabra nodded.

“The Engineer built SHIVA, didn’t he?” she asked.

“Yes. At least, he is the leading suspect.”

“Then I guess we blackened all three of his eyes, huh? Sent him packing from Melbourne, destroyed his supercomputer, and ended whatever plan he had with Monkey.”

“Perhaps,” Blueshift said. “Don’t be too optimistic too quickly. Without knowing his goals, we cannot say whether he truly failed. Engineering has two distinct meanings, after all. But he’s aware of you now, Defiant. The next time you encounter him, you’ll have his full attention.”

She could still picture him clearly in her mind—his darkly beautiful form, his three arms, his three-eyed gaze. But there was no such thing as an invincible cape, not even him.

“I’ll be seeing you, Defiant.”

“There’s one more thing I want, Blueshift,” she said, as he turned to leave. “You said you’d teach me how to control this thing in my head. I told you I’d think about it. I don’t want that anymore.”

Blueshift raised one eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“The Engineer, the Seven, the Transcended—whatever you call them,” she said. “I want to know how to fight them. Because the next time I encounter one of them, and no matter their attention, I intend to kill them.”

“That may be impossible, Miss Kasembe.”

“Maybe. Then I won’t go down easily and, with Allah as my witness, I will not go down alone.”

His attention was on her now, truly seeing her—but she would not wither under his gaze. Sabra stood tall and met him eye to eye.

“You’ll need power for that,” he said.

“I just want to make this world a better place.”

“That may be impossible, too, Miss Kasembe,” he said, strangely heartfelt. “It may always have been impossible.”

“But you’ll help me try.”

“Perhaps. You recognize that power given to you isn’t power at all. What you need is power as will, the mind as a weapon. To break free of the crutches that you’ve carried for so long that you’re not even aware of them, and to free yourself from the prison of caring.”

I am because you are, Sabra thought. But better you than me.

He stepped closer to her. Even without peering into the abyss, she could feel the power in his steps and his gaze. This was it, the final rite of a pact signed between a weary arbiter and herself, a young woman who dreamed of bridging the gap between wrath, benevolence and justice, so she might call herself a hero.

It would be an arduous struggle, she knew. Across the futures, Sekhmet still stalked. But she was a goddess of healing, too. The struggle would be long and, perhaps, it would never end, because it wasn’t just against the world, the unjust order that was preserving where it should be saving, but against her own nature.

And there was an old word for that, too—jihad.

His fingers settled on her chin, and it might’ve been charismatic—captivating, even—had she not stood taller than him. There was a strange feeling to it, like he’d done it before. Like he’d finally taken off some invisible mask.

“Then I will teach you the ways of power, Sabra Kasembe,” he said. “I’ll teach you how to find it and how to cultivate it. I’ll teach you how to wield it and how to break it. And then, ultimately, yes—I will teach you how to kill it.”

“I’ll work with you, Blueshift, not for you.”

He nodded.

“So be it.”

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She returned to the spot she had been standing in. For a time, she listened to the wind through the trees, the bubbling of the water, and the hum of electric cars in the distance. So similar to her home, yet so different. She looked back to the Alps and found them much less intimidating than they had been just minutes before.

First the mountains, some part of her laughed, then the Seven.

She actually did laugh. People turned to look at her, some of them in the deep blue of SOLAR or the more individual outfits of other empowered groups. Her phone chimed. Sabra fished it out. A video call, and she didn’t recognize the number. She accepted it anyway.

“So,” Revenant said. “I take it I have you to thank for a few more feet being added to my leash.”

Sabra smiled. “Oh, I’m sorry, I figured a few more feet was better than none.”

“Until one or the both of us gets strangled with it.”

“Well, you don’t need to breathe, and maybe I’m into being choked.”

Revenant shook her head. “Christ and Allah, you are just completely incorrigible, aren’t you?”

“Abacus.” Then, she added, just in case: “I’m not, by the way—I was only joking.”

“Sabra,” Revenant said, after a moment, “You didn’t have to do that. You didn’t have to do anything for me.”

Sabra shrugged. “Someone has to.”

“I don’t wish to be another crusade for you.”

“It’s not that,” she said.

“Then what is it?”

Sabra shut her eyes and smiled. “Maybe I just don’t want anyone spying on us the next time we hang out.”

“You presume that there’s going to be a next time,” Revenant replied but, for the first time, her demeanor cracked with the glimmer of a genuine smile.