Hero Born: Project Solaris (7 page)

"What if you guys get into trouble?" Kali asked. She leaned forward between the seats, meeting Jillian's gaze. "I have abilities too. I can light things on fire with my mind, and if we get into a fight that might be useful. You know I want answers as much as you guys. My mother is still missing, remember?"

"I'll leave the keys in the ignition. You've got your cell phone, right?" Jillian asked, ignoring Kali's question.

"Yes, I've got it."

"Then stay in the car. I want you in the driver's seat. Keep an eye on the building, and if you see anyone approach I want you to call me immediately. Understand?" Jillian asked, a hard edge to her voice.

"Okay," Kali agreed, heaving a sigh.
 

"Thanks, Kali," I said, opening the door and stepping into the rain. It was starting to drizzle.

I stepped over a row of rocks bordering the walk and moved over to Mom's front door. The front patio was ringed by a waist-high fence, with mismatched Christmas lights strung along the top. They stayed up year-round. A single white patio chair sat near the sliding glass door, with an inflatable little green man sitting on it. He wore a Santa hat, though we were well into spring.

I reached under an empty flower pot next to the door and fished out her spare key. I had to jiggle it a little to get it into the lock, then opened the front door and stepped into Mom's apartment for the first time in three years. Nothing had changed. Just past the door stood a curio cabinet filled with colorful dragon statues. Beyond that were stacks of boxes and piles of old newspapers. They covered nearly every surface, except for the sky blue recliner where Mom had spent the bulk of her time.
 

It faced a tiny television with an old Playstation plugged in. I'd offered to buy mom a newer one, but she had been happy replaying Final Fantasy VII over and over again.

"Mom? Are you home?" I called out, already knowing she wasn't. The place was too still, too empty.

It reeked of cigarette smoke. Mom had smoked a pack and a half a day with all the windows closed, and she'd lived here for seven years. The walls were covered with an oily residue that had painted the walls the unmistakable yellow of a chronic smoker. Part of my mind recognized that stray thoughts were a way to avoid my feelings, but right now that was all I had the strength for.

"David," Jillian called, waving me over to the small kitchen table where I'd played about a billion games of Hearts with mom. "This is your mom's sketchbook. She never let anyone look at it."

I approached the table, picking up the battered black sketchbook. Some of the pages were full of pictures, others stuffed with hand-written notes. The last third of the book had a series of very disturbing sketches. Quite a few were of the grey men and what was quite clearly the obelisk forests inside their ships.

Others were less familiar. There was a sketch of the sun, with several fiery tendrils bleeding off the side. Another showed a jet-black pyramid jutting out of San Francisco bay near Angel Island. The last was by far the most disturbing, though. It showed a ravening horde of zombies packing the Golden Gate Bridge. They were unmistakable, the kind she could have pulled from any Romero movie.

A few days ago I would have taken them for a sign of growing psychosis, or just some idle artwork based on a TV show. Now, they were terrifying. I felt ill, and more than anything I wanted to be away from there. At least the headache had faded.

"If she left anything important it's probably in her room," I said, plunging past Jillian up the narrow hallway.

The bedroom door stood halfway open, and I slipped inside without touching the yellowed wood. The room looked the same as it always had, a queen-sized bed buried under a comforter that had once been white, with an army of pillows. A nightstand sat next to it, with a worn AM radio facing the bed. If I turned it on I knew it would be tuned to the station that played Coast to Coast, a conspiracy show about aliens and other phenomena that mom had absolutely loved, and I had abhorred.

The only other item of note was Mom's dresser, which was covered in snow globes. A large wooden jewelry box sat in the back, propped open. I approached, recoiling a bit at what I saw in the jewelry box's small mirror. My dark hair was mussed, my eyes swollen despite having just had a night's sleep. I looked awful and felt worse.

"See anything useful?" Jillian asked, entering the room behind me.

"Maybe," I said, leaning closer to the jewelry box.
 

It held many of the necklaces and rings I was familiar with. Mom loved turquoise, gold, and any gaudy semi-precious stone she could get her hands on. The funny thing was that she somehow managed to make all of that stuff look elegant, no matter how much of it she seemed to wear at once.

Near the back of the box was a massive green stone, far larger than anything else. It was maybe three inches tall, and cut into a perfect pyramid. The color was too light for an emerald; it was more like summer. I reached out to touch it, and a shock went through me the instant my finger brushed the warm stone.

"David." A familiar voice came from behind me, and it wasn't Jillian. I turned slowly to see a spectral figure hovering several inches over the carpet. The translucent woman was the same green as the stone, but she was unmistakably my mother. She gave me a warm smile, one that made me tear up instantly. "I'm so glad you're all right, and that you thought to look here. I wasn't positive you'd think of it, or be able to make it if you did."

"Dorothy?" Jillian asked, voice quavering. That grounded me somehow, the fact that she could see the specter too.

"Hello, Jillian. You did well in locating David. Thank you for that," Mom said, shifting her smile to Jillian. She looked younger somehow, more vibrant than last time I'd seen her.

"Mom, what is that crystal? How are you talking to us?" I asked, several competing theories playing through my head. Communication device? Mental repository?

"It's a genetic memory crystal. In essence, a mirror of my mind. I have all of Dorothy's memories up to the moment the crystal was imprinted, and her entire personality. At least I've lost quite a bit of weight," Mom said, giving me a holographic smile as she posed. Her expression sobered before she spoke again. "I don't know the fate of the real me, but I suspect the worst. The real me-- Dorothy-- headed to the safe house to meet with her resistance cell. I'm guessing you've already looked there?"

"Yeah. Nothing left but a crater," Jillian replied in a small voice. She sat on the corner of the bed, eyes locked on the spectral hologram.

"It's as I feared then. It looks like I was right to create the crystal. David, there's a lot I have to share with you. You're far more important than you realize, both to the resistance and to the grey men," she explained. "I have a lot to tell you, and not much time. If you're here they probably already know, and they'll be here soon."

"Who?" I asked.

"One of two groups: either the agents of the grey men, or a faction called Mohn Corp," the hologram explained.
 

"What can you tell us about Mohn Corp?" I asked, joining Jillian on the bed. I knew we had to get out of here, but I was hoping a minute or two wouldn't matter. I needed answers more than I needed air.

"The corporation is run by a man named Usir, who is definitely more than he appears to be. You'll need to learn the truth behind him, David. I wasn't able to, but your powers are uniquely suited to getting answers," she explained. "He wasn't created by the grey men, but seems to possess a lot of power. I don't know where he comes from, or how he relates to them. I do know he's old, centuries at the very least. It appears he's been gathering supers, but I have no idea what his motives are."

"He's interested in me," I said, scooting closer to Jillian. My hand found hers, and she gave it a squeeze. "He was trying to invest in the company I work for."

"I'm not surprised," Mom said--hologram or no, that's how I decided I was going to think of her. "Your powers are unique, and I believe they may be what the grey men have been seeking all along. As Jillian has no doubt told you, you're a telemechanic. You can interface directly with machines."

"Why is that so useful to Usir?" Jillian asked.

"In my limited research, I came across references to something called Object 3. I don't know what it is, exactly, but I think it's a grey man artifact. Usir has it, and is trying to find a way to use it," Mom explained.

A ringing came from Jillian's pocket, and she fished her phone out. She turned to me eyes widening, a voice rising a half octave. "It's Kali."

Chapter 12- Attack

"What's up?" Jillian said, phone shooting to her ear. I heard Kali's voice in the background, high pitched and scared.

A familiar howl sounded outside, rattling the bedroom windows. I shot to my feet, looking for any way to escape.

"David," holo-mom said, drawing my attention. "You cannot allow them to find the crystal. They cannot discover what I have learned."

The front door exploded inward, and something heavy advanced quickly up the hallway. Jillian tucked her phone in her pocket, then shouldered the door closed.
 

"That's not even going to slow them down," I said, scooping up the crystal. The hologram disappeared as I handed it to Jillian. "Hang on to that. If they're here for me, then I should be as far from the crystal as possible."

The door simply melted, dissolving into green mist that flowed across the carpet. A moment later, a Latino kid about Kali's age stepped into the doorway. Tattoos poked up from the collar of a black T-shirt, and I spotted several gold teeth when he shot me a predatory smile. "It's gonna go rough for both of you if you try to run. Just like it went rough for the tasty redhead outside."

"What did you do to Kali?" I snarled, a surge of something red and hot rushing up from my gut.
 

"She'll live. I want her awake for what comes later," the thug said, winking cruelly at Jillian. "You can join in if you want."

A hollow chittering came from the hallway, menacing and alien. A thin scaly leg appeared near the thug, but I couldn't see any more of the creature.
 

I had a moment to consider my options, all of them bad. The kid had abilities, and apparently a pet fast enough to chase down cars. That didn't give us much of a chance. Still, might as well go down swinging.

Rage surged through me, longing to be given physical form. Some latent instinct guided my hand as I thrust it at the kid's face. An arc of electricity played over my outstretched fingers.

Surprise flitted across the kid's features. I knew I was playing with fire, but I'd be damned if I was going to lay down and take this kid's shit.

I willed the energy from my hand, and it lanced at the kid. Elation surged for a split second, but faded quickly when I saw the effects. My 'bolt of lightning' was little more than a zap of static electricity.

A tiny wisp of smoke rose from the kid's pocket, and his eyes fell to his pants. He fished out a phone, glaring angrily up at me. I wanted to say something witty, but it's hard to recover from a situation like that--I'd tried to lay the kid out with a bolt of lightning, and instead had fried his phone.
 

"You think you've got some juice?" the kid roared, aiming both hands at me. "I'll show you some juice."
 

A wave of green energy burst from the kid's hands. My eyes widened as the terrible energy approached my face, then Jillian was tackling me to the floor. The familiar chill of her ability washed over me. My body faded, then disappeared all together.

"Clever, but not clever enough. Get em, boy," the thug growled, stalking into the room. He thrust his hand forward, and a torrent of green energy flowed into Mom's bed. There was a bright flash and when it faded the bed had simply ceased to exist. I scrambled backwards, chest heaving as I patted the floor in search of Jillian's hand. There was nowhere to go, no way to escape.

Then the beast entered the room. It was far more terrifying up close, all eight eyes scanning the room at once. One too-thin leg stabbed into the carpet, then another as it crept closer. The thing gave off a terrible stench, and I fought back a gag reflex, knowing that stealth was our only ally. Any sound could give us away.

Pustules oozed greasy grey muck from the beast's shoulders and back, and I realized that tiny little spiders were crawling out of them. The thing's jaws opened wider than I'd have thought possible, exposing hundreds of razor sharp teeth. I gave a wordless moan in spite of myself, the room fading as a powerful memory washed over me. I was fourteen again, hovering in the grey men's ship while they probed and experimented. Their flat black eyes, their tiny razored teeth. It all came back at once, paralyzing me at the worst possible moment. The memories refused to be repressed any longer.

"Don't kill them," the thug snapped. The beast gave a whine, then stalked forward with an excited chitter. "Just give it up, David. I can see the indentation in the carpet where you're laying, and my bud here can smell you. Drop the invisibility, or I'll have to kill your hot friend."

"Run," I whispered into Jillian's ear, then leapt to my feet. The instant I stood, I became visible. I glared at the thug as my hand slid into my pocket and wrapped around the golden boomerang. "You want me? Come and get me."

I whipped the device out, firing off a burst of green energy just like I had in the hospital. It hit the scaly beast in the face, melting several eyes and drawing a screech of pain. A spurt of grayish blood spilled out over the carpet, and the thing staggered backwards. Then it leapt at me, faster than thought. It knocked me to the floor near the dresser. The device went skittering away, and the creature's jaws hovered next to my throat, pus dripping onto my skin with hot, sizzling pain. It gave a low, deep growl, menacing enough that I scrunched my eyes shut and turned my face away.