"Yeah," Winter said. "I mean it's just a made up word. Because they glow. Without a host the Luminae are just light and thought."
"Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter," Emily said in a pitch perfect Yoda impersonation.
"Are you kidding me right now, Emily," Billy said.
"Kidding you I am not. Jedi you are. The Force you had. Get it back we must."
"Please stop talking like Yoda."
"Mm. Angry am I making you? Anger leads to the Dark Side."
"Please stop."
"Waited my whole life for this I have."
"This is my life we're talking about. Can we be adult about it?"
"Too old to begin the training!"
"Emily!"
"Good, good! Give in to your anger!"
Billy dropped his head into his hands.
"Is she like this all the time?" Winter asked.
"All the time. Every day. Always."
"I'm not afraid," Winter said, raising a knowing eyebrow at Emily.
"You will be," Emily said, still in full-on Yoda impersonation. "You. Will. Be."
"I like you," Winter said.
"Too bad you're keeping us captive," she said.
"So be quiet and we'll work on that," Winter said.
Billy rubbed his eyes and sighed.
"So how do you know so much about the null gun?" he asked.
"Two reasons. One: I saw it used on a friend of mine a long time ago," Winter said.
"My symbiotic alien's former partner?"
"Not exactly," Winter said. "You've heard the name Horizon?"
"I have," Billy said. "Was he another Luminae?"
Winter nodded.
"Someone came looking to kill him. Not the Luminae, but the host. They used a version of the null gun on him."
"Did it kill the host?"
"Almost," Winter said. "But it was worse for him. The host wasn't human. He was another alien who had come to earth with the Luminae."
"He was a what?" Billy said.
"You two are terrible at focusing, you know that?" Winter said.
"Speaking of focusing. You said there were two reasons," Emily said.
Winter looked sheepish, an awkward, apologetic half-grin on his face.
"I . . . helped reverse engineer the null gun for human use," Winter said. "I'm sorry."
"Why? Why would you do that if you knew it was a weapon that could be used to hurt your friends?" Billy said.
"Because the Luminae weren't the only ones it worked on," Winter said. "Trust me, Billy, there's worse out there. Horizon himself knew the gun was horrific but said we should keep the it as a precaution."
Billy frowned.
"Where's Sam," Emily said. It wasn't a question.
Winter's face softened. His eyes went misty.
"Oh my god he's dead," Emily said. "They killed Sam! You killed him?"
"I wish it was that simple," Winter said. "That's part of why I came here. If you have a chance to get out . . . I should take you down to see him."
"Can you?" Emily said.
"Not now. One thing at a time," Winter said. "But if you make a move before I can . . . help, don't leave without him. You can leave without me, but Sam needs your help."
"Are they torturing him? Starving him? What are they doing?" Billy demanded.
"They're trying to make him better," Winter said.
Billy and Emily looked at each other. Make him better. All Billy could think of was the facility on the island where they found Bedlam, and all those cells where kids like them had been experimented upon to make them better.
Winter stood up suddenly.
"What's wrong?"
"Just a feeling. I don't want to risk being here too long," Winter said. He uncuffed a thick bracelet in dark blue from his wrist and tossed to Billy.
"What's this?"
"It won't make up for the powers you lost, but that's a Coldwall holdout special," Winter said. "Crowd control device. If you have to take down any guards non-lethally, use it."
Billy clipped it on his own wrist. It blended in well with the dark blue of his regular costume.
"I'll be back. I want to get you down to see Sam," Winter said. "Keep your heads down. You're not alone in here."
"When will you come back?" Emily said.
"Soon as I can. Fill Solar in if you get any time alone," he said. Winter offered them a terse nod and then hobbled back out into the hallway.
"I wonder what they have on him," Billy said.
"Probably everything. Millionaire fakes his own death?" Emily said. "I bet the guy doesn't even exist anymore. Nobody ever came looking for him."
"Anything ever happens to me, check the body, make sure I'm dead?" Billy said.
"You too?"
"You got it."
Emily was staring at him.
Billy let her stare, because sometimes Emily was just Emily, before finally giving up.
"What?"
"You're a luminous being."
"Stop it."
"You need a lightsaber."
"Stop it, Em."
"And a wookiee."
"I have a dog," Billy said.
"You do. I really hope Neal feeds him."
"Me too, because we both know Kate won't."
Chapter 26:
Cyborgs
Bedlam agreed to meet Titus in a Brazilian restaurant outside the City, which suited the werewolf just fine — the Department hadn't made a move to bring him in, but he figured a sit down in a downtown burger joint would be more risk than necessary. Why tempt fate?
He'd volunteered to speak with the cyborg partially because he'd been there when Billy met with her and they knew each other in a way. Titus was more personable than Kate anyway, and they knew Bedlam was distrusting and angry by nature.
Lastly, Kate still hadn't stopped glowing since she bonded with Dude, which was alarming in all sorts of ways, and worse, she couldn't stop answering the alien out loud, so she was walking around the Tower having a lopsided conversation with herself at all times. Titus actually felt bad for the alien, because Kate was clearly unhappy with the situation and wanted him out, while the alien — from the scraps of conversation Titus could hear on his side of Kate's skull — felt that she was his only option for getting Billy back again.
Also, Titus knew, Kate didn't even like anyone knowing her email address. The idea of an alien being who could read her thoughts was probably driving her insane.
He walked into the small restaurant and was instantly overwhelmed by the aroma of food cooking. His stomach growled so loudly it startled him. All those months in the wild he had never desired cooked food, but good meals, prepared with skill and pride, that had been desperately lacking, and the open kitchen visible almost immediately upon walking in almost sent Titus into a feeding frenzy. He suppressed the urge to climb over the counter and start eating with his hands then he spotted Bedlam sitting in a corner booth, looking bizarrely casual for someone whose body was more than half-cyborg. She beckoned him over.
"It's the walking carpet," she said. A grizzled, scarred man sat beside her, also a cyborg, with one red bionic eye glowing side by side with one human eye. One of his hands gleamed metallic below the cuff of his khaki jacket. Titus gestured to the stranger.
"He's with me, Fido," Bedlam said.
The older man extended a hand.
"Who are you," Titus said, shaking the other man's hand.
"I'm the guy who didn't shoot your dancing ninja friend when I had the chance," the man said in a rough voice.
Titus could hear a hint of an accent, but it was so faint it could have been from anywhere.
"Name's Black."
"Titus Whispering," the werewolf said.
"That's not what the others were calling you," Black said.
"I'm trying to get in touch with my roots."
"Fair enough."
Titus sat down, kept an eye on the kitchen, trying not to stare.
"Interesting choice of venues," Titus said.
"Owner is a retired secret agent," Bedlam said. "He's weirdo-friendly. And lets us robots use the back door to come in for dinner."
"That helps." Once again, Titus found himself staring at the kitchen. The smells were almost too much.
"Oh go get yourself some food, you animal," Bedlam said. "We can talk after."
Titus didn't even excuse himself. He stood up, grabbed a plate from the self-serve style buffet, and loaded up on everything — brisket, chicken wings, pork, sausages. He carted the plate back to the table and sat down across from Bedlam.
"You realize you're playing into the stereotype, right?" she asked. "Did you put anything that grew in the ground on that plate?"
"I've been living in the woods for months," Titus said. "Sorry."
"So," Bedlam said, ignoring Titus's feeble attempt at eating with class and dignity, "You need my help."
"Yeah," Titus said between bites. "Apparently my friends were rewarded for saving the East Coast last year with a nice case of imprisonment at the Labyrinth."
"Flyboy with them?" Bedlam said.
"Yeah. I thought you might be willing to lend a hand springing him."
"We heard about the attempt on the Dancer too," Bedlam said. Her companion laughed.
"That was impressive. There's about thirty guys who will never work in this business again because of her," Black said. "An entire professional extraction team and she made them look like Keystone Cops."
"So it's just the two of you?" Bedlam said.
"One of Doc's old teammates has come out of retirement to lend a hand," Titus said.
"Who's left?" Black asked.
"The Alley Hawk."
Black whistled.
"He's not flashy, but I wouldn't want to be on his bad side," Black said.
"Still," Titus said, crunching blackened brisket between his teeth. "We're running short staffed."
"Where is Silence, anyway?" Black asked. "Rumor has it he walked onto the oil rig and never walked back out again."
"We're working on that," Titus said.
He couldn't help but feel a pang of regret. He and Doc hadn't been particularly close, but he missed his calming presence, and knew Doc Silence would have a plan for getting their friends out already instead of scrambling for ideas and allies.
"I have to be honest," Bedlam said. "I don't see any upside in this for me."
"It would mean a lot to Straylight," Titus said, and smiled wickedly.
"You say that like it's a good thing," Bedlam said. "I don't know if I want to give flyboy the impression I don't hate him."
"Then let me suggest this," Titus said. "If they're pulling us off the streets, who do you think is next?"
Bedlam frowned, and then stole a chicken wing off Titus's plate.
"You're not food aggressive, are you?"
"Funny."
Bedlam looked at Black, who just shrugged at her. She nodded.
"Okay, look. You guys sprung me when I was locked up, so I'll do what I can to get your friends out."
"Thank you," Titus said.
"But I'm not doing anything that involves being locked up again. If it looks like they're going to win, I'm bailing. You won't even see my vapor trail."
"That's understandable," Titus said.
"And this under no circumstances is me helping Straylight specifically," she said. "If he tries to friend me on Facebook afterward I'll kill him."
"Got it."
Black leaned forward on his elbows and laced his fingers together.
"I can't be involved," Black said.
"We could use the help," Titus said.
"Look, I want to pretend that this is me being a hard case mercenary and saying I don't do anything for free," Black said. "But the truth of the matter is I'd be a liability. I know too many guys on the inside at the Labyrinth. Half of them would want me to spring them, the other half would try to kill me. I'd be a distraction if I went with you. More trouble than it'd be worth."
Titus nodded. He hadn't had high hopes the mercenary would join them, but this was still disappointing.
"But what I can do is give you some inside information," Black said. "I had a feeling Bedlam was going to sign on, because she's secretly a much bigger idealist than I am."
"You take that back. Don't call me names."
Black chuckled, then pulled a manila folder out from under the table and tossed it to Titus. The werewolf opened it and found a dossier inside, with a woman's picture clipped to it, dark haired and grim.
"Laura Jacoby. Currently calls herself Prevention. Head of Station for the Department in the City," Black said.
Titus thumbed through the biographical information.
"So she's not a lifetime government agent?"
"Nope," Black said. "She's a telepath so she's done a good job hiding her identity and obscuring her past, but the Department isn't her first employer."
"So you think she's corrupt?" Titus asked.
"Unscrupulous, certainly, but so am I," Black said. "But what I'd be asking yourself is: why is a known black ops player running the Department's City branch, and is the Department acting out of character?"
"Our old Department contact disappeared recently," Titus said.
"There's a lot of that going around," Black said.