"The fight was orchestrated.”
They were all, the five of them, back at the Academy, in Azleena’s computer room – the Cao Duan twins left in containment at the mountain, under guard but almost forgotten. Later, they would have to be dealt with, someone would have to figure out what to do with them. Right now-
“I’m still in preliminary review of the documents,” said Azleena. She turned in her chair to look at Giselle, Jane, Will and Wally. “But there’s no mistaking it. The same group behind the attack on Park River Arms targeted this girl.” The genius’s face was grim. “We have to assume their goal was for her to seduce – well that’s the wrong word – infatuate Qiang. That’s the point of the psychological profiles. His browser history. Somebody put him in the path of a girl they knew would fuel a disproportionate reaction, who would trigger an irrational attachment in his psyche.”
“That’s impossible,” Giselle protested, “It doesn’t make any sense. There’s too much coincidence. Someone knew Qiang was going to drop a glass and Emily was going to touch him? That his brother was going to appear? That they were going to be panic teleported to New York? That’s ridiculous.”
Azleena shook her head. “You don’t understand. It’s not just Qiang they were manipulating. It’s Liang too.” She turned back to the computer, opening up a series of items on the screen. “They have records of his every move. Psychological profiles of women, just like they did with Emily. They identified this girl, Melody – I mean Chu Mey is her Chinese name – who was his type and had an existing drug problem. They’ve been playing on their vices for months.” Azleena clicked through more windows. “Higher potency drug drops. Keeping police off their and their dealers’ backs. A clear pattern of encouraging use in two addictive personalities which pretty much sooner or later is going to result in only one thing.”
“But again,” said Giselle, “How the hell would they know that? How the hell would they know what this guy was going to do, let alone when we would do anything?”
The genius shook her head, staring at the speeders with wide, unblinking amber eyes. “You’ve got to stop thinking about this as planned down to the last detail. It was meticulous, yes, but in broad, key elements. Adaptable. Qiang, suffering severe isolation, inevitably having some kind of breakdown. Liang, with his drug abuse, inevitably running into overdose, paranoia or problems with the law. Two volatile elements, and all you’ve got to do is wait and watch and make sure somehow they end up in a room together.” Azleena turned back to the screen. “I don’t know how they predicted the reaction once they did finally come into contact, but maybe it’s not a stretch to think that if a man who kills by touching and a man who brings people back to life make direct contact something will happen. For me, that’s the biggest hole. How whoever planned this knew there was going to be reaction of this magnitude, rather than just, say, both of them dropping dead.”
“Because it’s happened before.” Wally suddenly stood straighter, withdrew his forefinger from where it’d been pressed against his lips. “When I was listening to their thoughts earlier, both of them kept thinking back to the sensation of touching each other, the grey waves, this house, this field…” He looked at the other four. “I assumed it was just feelings of guilt at the time, interspersed with memories of New York, but what if it wasn’t? What if previously, they…” His voice trailed off, looking horrified. Giselle and Will looked sick.
“Our missing piece,” said Azleena with a grimace and a nod, “That settles it. They’re Chinese nationals, the record’s likely hidden, but I’m certain if I kept digging… both their parents are listed as deceased. I’m guessing some time after their powers manifested, they made contact and…” She let the thought trail. “Their powers wouldn’t have been as strong back then. Maybe the emotional turmoil wasn’t as bad. Maybe they were able to break apart before the effect spread, but the Chinese government still found them. There was still a record somewhere.”
“Jesus,” Will breathed.
“From there,” Azleena powered forward, laying her theories down like a hand of cards, “It’s simple. They have the communications blocker ready to go. They organise the attack on Matt in his apartment to flush him out and back to Morningstar. And then it’s simply a matter of waiting for the disaster to go down.” She paused, looking at each of them in turn. “The Legion deploys in force, as it has to. Dawn is tied down matching Divine with Divine. And then irrespective of whether Matt is with Jane or stays at the Academy, they have a team on standby waiting to deploy, and a city‑wide Disruptance net waiting to close the door. Simple.”
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“Simple?” Wally said, incredulous.
Azleena rolled her eyes. “Alright not simple. But clear. Logical. Flexible. Adaptable to coincidence and shifting circumstance. This was all a play for Matt’s blood.”
“The only thing they didn’t account for was him being so slippery,” said Will, shaking his head in wonder.
“And Jane being able to bring him back.” Azleena paused, hesitating to give voice to the elephant in the room. “As far as I can see from my brief foray into the literature, nobody has ever tested an empath’s ability to combine complementary twin powers. It’s completely unprecedented. If it wasn’t for that, and the mercenary team being so ineffective, everything would have gone like they wanted.”
Giselle swore – a vicious steam of curse words that caused everyone else in the room to look away from her and was entirely anathema to the way she usually spoke.
“Who?” she demanded, staring wide‑eyed and angry at Azleena, “Who could possibly have done this?”
“I don’t know,” the genius replied, and she looked quite unhappy to have to say it, “The documents don’t have that. I need more time to go through everything and cross‑reference with external data to begin mapping out an indication. But thinking through it logically, our suspects are simple. The Chinese government and the American government.” She paused. “Both knew about the twins, both had the resources. Both obviously want Matt.”
“But they were trying to kill him,” Giselle protested. Jane barely heard her – there was a ringing in her ears. “That doesn’t make sense. If they wanted to develop an anti‑powers vaccine, wouldn’t they need his blood?”
“Lots of blood in a dead man,” pointed out Azleena, “Seems pretty logical that was step two. Kill him, harvest samples. Until Matt kept getting away.”
“Jesus,” Giselle lamented. She held her forehead with her hands. “Okay. Step one. Get Matt the hell back from his moonlit strolling.”
“Already on it,” replied Wally, his phone to his ear. The room sat in breathless silence as they listened to the muffled dial-tone.
Ring-ring.
Ring-ring.
“He’s not answering,” Wally frowned. He turned to Jane. “You try.”
Hands shaking, as if in a dream, Jane slid her phone from her pocket and scrolled to the picture of Matt, the first starred number. The phone trembled as she held it on speaker.
Ring-ring.
Ring-ring.
“Hi, this is Matt Callaghan, sorry I can’t take your call, please leave your name and number and-”
Jane hung up.
“Voicemail,” she whispered. For a moment, it felt like nobody could breathe.
“Celeste,” Azleena practically shouted, “Someone call Celeste.” Giselle did, her fingers moving faster across her Kinetic phone than it was possible to keep track of.
“It’s ringing too,” she told them; then- “No answer.” Her face paled.
“What the hell-”
“I let them go,” Jane whispered, unheard.
“Get a search team, jump to New York and-”
“I let them go,” she whispered again. There was a screaming in her ears, a ringing intertwining with the burning power of Dawn, and without realising it wisps of golden light began trickling down Jane’s face. “I let them go.”
“Send out a general alert, I want the last people to see them, I want-”
“Wait!”
Azleena’s shout rang through the computer room, and suddenly everyone, including Jane, fell silent. All four of them turned to look as the small genius leaned forward in her computer chair, her eyes racing, finger touching to her ear.
“They’ve found him,” she whispered, breathless, and Jane’s heart suddenly leapt – only to drop back into fear a moment later as the girl’s thick eyebrows furrowed. “He’s in New Orleans?”
“He’s getting hammered?!” Wally almost shouted, and when he ran his hands through his red hair he did it so hard it looked like he was going to tear clumps out, “I am having a freaking heart attack and he is off with that dragon‑breasted skank drinking voodoo daiquiris-!”
“The police have picked him up,” Azleena relayed. Giselle spun on Jane and Will, eyes ablaze.
“Go,” she demanded, jabbing a furious finger towards the hallway, “Right now, go pick his stupid ass up and bring him right back here, I don’t care about the cops, knock them out if you have to, I will sort it out later, just go!”
Will and Jane were already running, halfway through the doorway, when Azleena once more let out a wordless cry.
“Wait!” They spun back, and again Jane’s heart dropped – because the genius’s eyes were no longer incensed and bewildered, but now trembling, wide and terrified. “Something’s wrong.”