Chapter 5
"Why am I thinking of
You and me and the labor of love?"
Blink.
Even the fastest of them -- the battle-trained reflexes of
Victor, the super-swiftness of Zebra, the auto-defenses of Copper -- took half a
moment to grasp that everything had changed.
"Copper, Iris, high cover. Proteus, up the hill,
provide support. Zebra, Kid -- with me, in the house." Victor
was still the first of them to recover, snapping out orders with firm, steady
tones, like he had for decades. And even in a group divided, unprepared,
still uncertain of each other, there were no questions, only
confirmations. For that moment, at least.
"ON IT." Copper let his anti-gravs boost him
into the air, as passive defenses turned into active ones, and sensor systems
came on-line. The display before his eyes opened up a series of windows
and indicators that had taken him weeks to fully understand and integrate.
Bowie kept updating things, but she'd taken the hint when he'd gotten distracted
(blinded) by upgraded displays and crashed into City Hall. Hilarity had
not ensued.
So the downside for Bowie was that upgrades needed to be more
incremental, which seemed to offend some aesthetic she carried. The
downside for Adrian was that he was expected to drill more in simulators, always
(never) a treat. The upside was that he was increasingly more effective as
a combatant.
"Up and away," said Wild Iris. She gave herself
a telekinetic boost from the ground, unfurled telekinetic wings and circled into
the air. Above --
"Livin' in suburbia," she said tapping the earpiece
the whole team wore as almost a second nature. The conductive mic
transmitted her words to the others -- including Copper, who'd been tuned into
the right encrypted signal, and Zebra, who'd been handed one as soon as she was
done shaking hands. "If the sky was all icky and purple, I'd say we
were in Sprawl, USA."
"CONFIRMED," Copper chimed in. "BASIC
SUBURBAN HOUSING -- BUT THERE'S A RING AROUND IT, ABOUT -- THREE MILES
ACROSS. WE'RE NEAR ONE EDGE. NOT PICKING UP ANY RADIO, TV,
SHORT-WAVE, RADAR --" He cut off, as a flash appeared, then
disappeared. "WHOA. TWO BRIEF BLIPS OF ACTIVE SCANNING, ABOUT
TWO MILES OFF, PAST THE CENTER. COULDN'T LOCK IT DOWN ANY MORE."
"Good," said Victor. They'd appeared in what
looked like a back yard of a surburban house, as Iris and Copper had
specified. Single family ranch, lawn, patio and firepit, hillside of
flowers and weeds and ice plant and pine trees rising up to the next house
on the next street. "Proteus?"
"Southern California, given the plants," said the
shapeshifter -- a large coyote now up amongst the weeds and pines.
"These could never grow under this light, though. And I don't smell
any animals, no birds or cats or dogs. Nor people. I would expect
such in a location like this."
Victor had moved to the large sliding glass door that, along
with a floor-to-ceiling window, took up most of the center-back of the
house. He'd motioned Zebra over to a door to the left -- louvered
windows, probably a bathroom, but who can be sure? And Kid Castle --
-- was still struggling to get his wheelchair off the thick turf
of the lawn. "God damn it!"
Victor took a step back toward him, when there was a sharp crack
of sound, as Zebra kicked in the door and headed into the house.
"I'M GOING TO CHECK OUT THOSE BLIPS," Copper
said.
"I'm with him," chimed Wild Iris.
"Negative," ordered Victor. "Stay up there
on patrol a minute until we secure the house, then we'll regroup and figure out
what to do next."
"That's no fun," Iris muttered. A mechanical
chuckle came from Copper.
"Damn!" the Kid said, finally getting his wheelchair
onto the cement of the patio.
There was a movement inside the house, then the sliding glass
window shattered from the inside under Zebra's hoof. "All
clear," she said, and stepped out of the way.
Victor shook his head, and stepped in.
* * *
It was about twenty minutes later. Proteus was lurking
around outside, keeping watch. It's what he preferred to do.
The house had been empty of life, but not empty. It looked
like anyone could have just moved in (as they had). There was food in the
fridge, furniture, books on shelves, even a TV and VCR and DVD player -- all
just as if the residents had stepped out for a few moments.
The TV wasn't picking up anything of interest, and Kid Castle
had turned it back off. He was sitting in his chair in the family room, a
small tray unfolded in his lap, some equipment from the chair's pockets
scattered in front of him as he tinkered.
Iris was stretched out on one of the two La-Z-Boy recliners
which faced the TV in the corner. She looked at the family photos sitting
atop the set -- weddings, graduations, children and adults, and wondered what
had happened here.
Copper was standing in the corner, next to the stereo, his head
scraping against the soundproofing "cottage cheese" along the
ceiling. He was letting passive sensors detect whether anything was, in
turn, looking at them. All he was getting was static.
Zebra was raiding the refrigerator in the adjoining
kitchen. "Produce is still fresh," she said, munching on a head
of Romaine lettuce.
"All right," Victor said. "This slice of
Americana appears, without further investigation, to be a complete suburban
neighborhood, a little over three miles across. Copper hasn't been able to
probe beyond the boundaries, which start at their closest about 50 yards from
here." He gestured a gloved hand off toward the bedroom, or
perhaps more toward a palm tree in the back. "Which puts us close to
the maximum distance from the center."
