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Chapter -8- Quest for Knowledge

Monday, September 13, 2049 - 4am PDT SFPD Interrogation Room San Francisco ...

Reno glanced down at a photograph, briefly, then passed it back to the investigator. "Just like the others who died in the airport."

"You need to help me, Mr. Carrington."

"Agent," he corrected.

The investigator narrowed his gaze. "Yes, I saw your credentials. They appear legit, but until we have someone at the FBI who can vouch for you ... who is your handler?"

"He was killed."

"So how do I handle this? You weren't on location in an official capacity. You were supposed to be in holding until the airport security released you."

"I told you," said Reno, "the goddamn attackers killed the security team. Look, man, I'm here doing you a favor. I'm trying to help you with your investigation. Okay? God, you suck at interrogations. I swear to Christ, man, have you talked to Simon Lancaster?"

"I did. His supervising agent made sure I got almost nothing out of that kid. But, funny, you don't seem to have a supervising agent to bail_you_ out."

"So I'm your guy," said Reno.

"Mm-hmm. You're my guy. Now, let's talk about the bodies of these attackers again." The Inspector pushed a few photos across the table towards Reno. "What do you see, Mr. Carrington? Help me so I can help you."

"I see a lot of gore," said Nevada. "Lateral slash, here. Obvious force used. There is a pattern on this one, here, suggesting a bike mark. And," he trailed off, switching to another photo. "See, there, the petechial...?" He pointed to the eyes in the picture. "Right there. Lot of force was used on these poor bastards. I sure hope you find the dude who is doing this to people. So, have you got these bodies back from autopsy yet? That'll tell you more than I can about each of your vic's COD."

"How did they die? You were there. Answer the question."

"Or what? Look, are you going to charge me with something or not?"

"I haven't decided yet," said the investigator.

"What was your name again?" asked Reno.

"Inspector Jack Wells. What's the matter, Carrington? You don't have a very good short-term memory or something? I told you that when I came in here, pal."

"I'm not your pal, dickhead," Reno snapped. He held his hands up and sat back in his chair with a sigh. "Sorry. Airport Security held me for a full day. I had one lousy sandwich and no sleep. I'm exhausted. I've been with you for few hours. Are you going to charge me with something?"

"I told you I haven't decided yet. We're just holding you as a witness for right now."

"You're holding me ... great." Reno ran his hands up through his dirty, matted hair. "So I get a lawyer when? Tomorrow? Or are you just going to suck it up and release me tomorrow?"

"That depends on you, Carrington."

Reno grimaced. "I haven't had sleep, I haven't eaten. You're showing me pictures of dead people - great. Maybe you forgot what I said, when I told you there was a smoke screen of some sort. The bodies I saw? Yeah, I saw those when I stepped over them trying to get out of that smoke. You want a witness to people getting torn up? Well too bad, because I didn't 'see' shit. I heard someone attacking these guys, and I got out of the smoke, I hopped over the ticket counter and I stayed out of that mess."

"Yeah, see, I have a problem with that." Jack crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat. "There's no proof that there was smoke. I mean, don't get me wrong - if your buddy Lancaster was able to talk for more than five minutes, maybe he'd have been able to corroborate your story. All he had time to do was acknowledge you were there. Then his boss came along and we had to release him."

Reno smirked. "Yeah, I can see how that sucks for you."

"Uh-huh. Very convenient. Since he's not talking, and since he didn't mention smoke, and since we can't find proof of smoke on the scene, I need more evidence. See, a crime scene is like a jigsaw puzzle. And the more pieces you give me, the better I can make the picture start to..."

"Jesus Christ, enough already." Reno pushed his palms against his eyes and rubbed furiously. "How about a hot shower and some food? You want my help? You should let me clean up and give me something to eat. Instead, you give me this stale coffee with no sugar, and it's cold. I didn't kill those people, you dipshit."

Jack smirked. "Oh, I'm a dipshit? How do you figure? How do I know you didn't kill anyone? If you want my help, Carrington, then you need to reciprocate. You help me, I help you - that's how this works."

Reno held his hands out, palms up. "Go ahead, put cuffs on me, dickhead. Arrest me so I can lawyer up."

"How about you give me _something_to prove you didn't kill those people, Mr. Carrington."

Reno closed his hands into fists. "Listen, 'pal', I'll make it real simple for you. You saw how torn up those bodies were, right?"

"I did."

"Great, champ. And you saw the blood spray from where some of those people were ripped apart, right?"

The inspector nodded. "I saw that. You can see it in the photos that you're barely looking at. Why don't you look at them again, Carrington - can ya' do that for me?"

"You asshole, if someone is going to fillet your victims like that, the blood spray would have wound up on their clothes."

"You had it on your shoes."

"It's on my shoes, because I walked through it! There is no blood on my hands, my pants, my shirt, my face, or my hair! Let me ask you something, Inspector Wells - where did you find me?"

"You were walking out of the security office when I saw you. I told you to show me your hands. You showed me your creds, and agreed to come in and answer my questions. Did I miss anything?"

Reno nodded. "Exactly - you have my footprints in blood on the tiles at best. But was I armed? No! Was I covered in blood? No!"

"There was a body in the security office. That man had his head bashed in and his blood is all over the door frame. Someone hit him repeatedly until he ceased to breathe, Carrington. You telling me you didn't see that?"

"I was in the holding room. I heard the disturbance. When I left the holding room, I saw the body," Reno explained.

"Were the computers destroyed by that time?"

"My attention was on the body, sorry," Reno said. "I left the security office, because I am a federal investigator. I wanted to see what was going on. I heard gunshots out in the terminal."

"A federal investigator," said Jack. "Yet you have nobody at the FBI that can vouch for you. No one. No handler, no supervisor. You're just a name in a computer system that nobody has heard of. Weird how that works."

"Let's focus on one thing at a time," Reno replied. "Back up to me in the security office. I saw the body after hearing the commotion. Obviously an attacker came in to fry the computer system, somehow. Someone killed the attacker and left the body there or something. I came out of the holding room, I saw the body, and maybe the computer system was fried at that point."

"Or maybe it was you."

"Maybe it was, but maybe it wasn't. Why don't you prove it?" said Reno in a sarcastic tone. "Or did you forget how this country works when it comes to justice?"

"Alright, Carrington. Keep going."

"Yeah, so anyway, the adjacent phone was not working. So I left the office. I investigated the attacks. Someone was attacking the attackers. I left before the smoke screen cleared. I came back to the security office."

"Why?"

Reno shrugged. "To get my bearings. I was looking for radios to call for help. All the radios were off the charging base. The main dispatch radio was fried with the rest of the computer system. I didn't find anything to help me back at the office, so I left the office again. That is when you saw me and immediately treated me like I was already guilty. Okay? I'm here and I'm trying to help you. But you're being a dick. I'm tired, I'm hungry, and I don't like your bullshit alpha male mentality. So either charge me with something, Jack, or I'm walking out of here tomorrow when my holding time is up."

"Let's talk about the Bureau, Carrington. Your credentials are legit, and you're apparently listed as an active agent in their system, but nobody has heard of you. Nobody can vouch for you. Talk to me about that."

Reno smirked. He rubbed his forehead and shook his head. "Okay, how about this ... you turn off the camera and the audio." He pointed up to a small black dome in the corner of the ceiling. "What I'm about to tell you will get me into trouble ... if I tell you what I know, I'm breaking protocol."

"What protocol?"

"My status is classified. I work for the same division that Simon Lancaster works for. The reason his supervisor didn't vouch for me is because he's not my supervisor. I answered to a handler, who was killed. I have a theory that those attackers in ski-masks are working for the guy that ordered the hit on my supervisor. I know this reads like a bullshit conspiracy theory, but Federal law prohibits me from talking to you about my status."

The investigator stared Reno in the face, trying to get a read on Nevada's facial expression. "So you're, what, covert ops?"

"I'm an investigator, like you, but I work for a small division that is now part of the FBI."

Wells folded his arms. "What's the division called?"

"That's classified."

Jack shook his head. "We're getting nowhere, here."

"No shit. Are you going to turn off the recording equipment or not?"

Jack turned towards a mirror on the wall and gestured to the reflection by bringing his hand across the front of his throat. He turned back to Reno and held his hands out. "Well?"

"Are you shitting me? That doesn't prove anything. Let's talk somewhere there's no camera and no microphone. How about the precinct bathroom?"

"I don't think so. I told you it's off."

Reno rolled his eyes. "I know that trick, Jack. I'm not falling for it. We can talk in the bathroom, or in the hall."

"Not going to happen, Carrington. What else you got for me?"

Reno stared at him for a moment then said, "Does your cellphone get signal in here?"

"Sure does, but you're not using it."

Reno gazed up at the ceiling with a huff of frustration. "I don't need to. Pull it out and get on any video archival program. Search for videos in San Francisco in late 2023, and early 2024, involving superheroes and electricity."

Wells eyed Nevada for a moment then pulled out his phone and used a video app to search for a video based on the guidelines Reno mentioned. A moment later, Jack showed the search results to Nevada.

"That one, third from the top. Start that one."

Jack touched the screen and the video began to play. "What am I looking for?"

"Move up a few minutes. That's the reporter chick talking."

Jack slid his finger across the screen, fast forwarding into the video. In it, a man threw what looked like a hat then thrust his hand out and struck it with some sort of lightning bolt.

Silence.

Jack paused the video and backed up to a part where they showed the face of the man who caused the lightning bolt. Jack looked at it for a moment then looked up at Reno. "Is this you, Carrington? You didn't have any hair here."

"Yeah, I was going through a bald phase. Didn't take."

"Are you fucking kidding me? This was twenty-five years ago. What, is this your father or something?"

Reno snorted in amusement. "No. Back up to the search results again. This time, search for 'Jacksonville middle school saved by superheroes.' Same time frame."

Jack searched for the new video and found the one Reno mentioned. He watched the video and frowned. "This guy talking to the press sure sounds like you."

"Why don't you have your techs come down here and do an audio match of my voice? You can do that, right? Analyze a vocal print or whatever? It's not my father giving that brief talk in front of the Jacksonville hospital, after saving that school ... it's me. Me, man. During, uh, my 'bald' phase. So how about you cut me some slack and we talk without the recording equipment?"

Jack looked at the phone screen again. "This video has millions of views over the last twenty-five years. How'd you do it? Plastic surgery?"

"Yeah, sure. That works for me."

Wells narrowed his eyes. "Right. So, how'd you do the lightning thing?"

"Classified."

Jack put his phone into his pocket. "Did you fight those men using that classified weapon? And, on that note, did you fry the computers in the security office to hide the evidence?"

Reno rolled his eyes. "I thought we both established that whoever killed those guys in paramilitary gear used something sharp. Like claws and fangs. None of them were fried, so obviously it wasn't me. Frying things - that's my signature. Those guys weren't fried."

"So, Carrington, did you fry the computers at the security office?"

"I have a constitutional right that says I don't have to answer anything incriminating. So, I would_invoke the Fifth Amendment, however you haven't charged me with anything, and this isn't a formal interrogation. You can't legally question me without my right to a lawyer, which you've _failed to provide. You haven't even read me my Miranda rights."

"I told you, we're just holding you. We're not charging you. We're just asking you for help to know what you saw, because you're a witness. We're just asking for you to make a statement, as a witness."

"Then why did you just ask if I did something illegal?" said Reno with a smirk. "Sounds like you're questioning me as a suspect. So charge me and get me my lawyer already. Oh, wait, you don't want to do that because then I'd be that much closer to leaving. Well, sooner the better. So, how are we playing this? If you're going to hold me, then send me back to a holding cell so I can catch some Z's."

"If you're really that guy in the video, then prove it."

"How? I just told you to do a voice analysis, Jack."

"Oh, I didn't realize we were on a first name basis, Nathan."

"Well, now are are, Jack. Turn off the recording gear and I'll show you what you want to see."

"How do you know what I want to see?" asked Wells.

"Because it's what everyone wants to see." Reno tensed up. His eyes glowed, briefly. A bright light danced in his pupils, briefly.

"How the fuck did you do that?"

"I'm not really sure," said Reno with a smile of satisfaction. "I'm told it shouldn't be possible without damaging these things in my pupils, called 'cones and rods' or something. I don't know much about how the eye works. My, uh, handler who died ... he was fascinated by it. I'm not doing anything else. It would be classified. So we either talk in private, or you take me to holding, or you charge me so I can get a lawyer to get me out of here. What's it going to be?"

"Photoreceptor cells," said Wells.

"What?"

Jack unfolded his arms. "My father is an ophthalmologist. So, if you create light in your eyes without burning out the photoreceptor cells, it's because your eye is either designed that way, or because you can heal the damage instantly. This, of course, is based on the possibility that our lives are in a comicbook or TV show, and you really are the person in those videos from all those years ago. However, that's probably crap, and you've concocted this story because you have a distorted view on reality."

Reno threw his hands up and sat back in the chair. "Fine. Hold me until tomorrow. I'm hungry, so let's start with food. You're here late, so let's both get some rest and I'll sleep in the holding cell with the drunks. And you know what? I'll sleep like a baby, too."

"You're not going back to holding. At least not yet."

"Charge me and call a lawyer, or send me to holding. I've given you a witness statement. I won't incriminate myself. I'm waiting for you to do your job."

"I'm waiting for you to tell me something useful. Or for you to escape using super powers like that guy in that fake video."

"Fake?" Reno laughed. "Okay, yeah, it's fake alright. My eyes are fake, too. I really had my eyes surgically removed years ago, and they put in glass eyes that light up. It's a great party trick, but since that would make me blind, I can't see you shaking your head right now."

Jack, who was shaking his head throughout Reno's speech, paused and arched his brows. "Are you for real?"

"I can't even take you seriously anymore, Inspector Wells. But you are interfering with a federal investigator who was working a scene when you picked me up."

"Not officially. There are no orders for you from the FBI, so no, you were not working the scene."

Reno chuckled. "Eh, formalities. Once my handler is replaced, I'll make sure the new guy knows Jack Wells needs his taxes audited for the last three years."

"Are you fucking serious with these threats? Do you realize how you sound, Carrington? You sound like a crazy idiot."

"Okay, whatever."

"Prove it then. Make lightning right now."

Reno shook his head. "Not until we're somewhere without recording equipment."

Jack stood up, gathered his photographs and walked to the door. "I'll be back later, Carrington. Enjoy the holding pattern." He knocked twice. The door opened and Jack stepped out. The door shut, leaving Reno alone.

Nevada sighed and put his head down, willing himself to relax. "This is going to be a long goddamn night."

X

X

Halfway across the globe, Ethiopia ...

"Thank you Kalen. You were very helpful hon. Okay, I see the file on the cloud drive. How's everyone over in California?"

Kalen sighed over the line. "Reno may have been arrested. At the very least, they're detaining him in connection with an attack on the airport last night. Don't worry about him, I'll come up with something. Mistress has also arrived in the area. She says we've made a new ally in the fight against Falcon's people. I've yet to meet them."

"Oh. Well then. Anyhow, thanks for sending me the audio file. We'll check it out now before we get started." Karla turned the phone about in her hand, holding her thumb over the hang-up icon on the screen. "Stay out of trouble."

"And you." Kalen disconnected from his end.

Karla thumbed the screen but it already changed over, showing the call was completed. She ran her thumb over the screen, working through the user interface until finding a file labeled 'Lance and Greg talk No. 11 in 2049.' The words were separated by underscore marks.

Karla's eyes panned from Carmen to Evan and finally to Conner. "Did you do whatever it is that Reno called you about last night? He said it was his 'one phone call,' and now we know why. So did you do it?"

"Yeah," Conner replied with a firm nod. "He gave me an IP address and needed me to get through a firewall and delete some security footage at the airport. I downloaded it first, then deleted what was on the cloud drive."

"Good. So did you watch it?" she asked with a nosey sort of expression.

"Yeah. It was the San Fran airport. Several teams of men in black paramilitary gear came in and started shooting the place up. Some wore ski masks and hurt civilians. Others went without ski masks and seemed preoccupied with trying to help civilians. That woman, Sekhmet, was there with the vampire lady in the dress. They leveled the place. Uncle Reno was there, and some other woman was with him. I didn't recognize her. Late twenties, maybe early thirties. There is one part, though, where she scaled a rope just using her hands. That was impressive."

Karla blinked. "You didn't tell any of us about the video? Jesus, Conner. Way to be part of a team. Did anyone else die besides a few bystanders?"

"Yeah, the team with the ski masks got decimated by that Sekhmet lady. You don't actually see her doing it, because everything goes dark for a few minutes, but it was pretty brutal. They were ripped apart. Lots of blood."

"We need to work on our communication skills," Karla said. "What about Tammy and Sinopa?"

"They were there, but they were working to clear out civilians in a different area. They didn't see anything. Then, the video shows Uncle Reno walking into the security office and everything goes black. The equipment stopped recording at that point."

Karla sighed. "Alright, Conner. Well, let's listen in on this old recording of what Lance seems to know about the thing we're stealing today. I'd rather hear Lance's thoughts on the damn thing instead of whatever Steven has to say. I still don't trust him and that's why I don't want him here right now."

Carmen put her hand on Karla's forearm. "Maybe he was taken down to New Atlantis and put into stasis."

Karla frowned. "Thanks for trying but ... Steven just came from there. The only reason he's even trying to help us is because he's upset over Lance's death. That sort of legitimizes it for me."

Carmen gave Karla's hand a squeeze.

Karla returned the comforting gesture then started the audio file on her phone.

Two voices were heard talking to one another. Karla recognized the first one as Lance 'Methos' Patterson, the mathematician who had indirectly lead the group from 2023 onwards. Karla pursed her lips so as to keep from crying at the sound of his voice.

The second voice caused Karla to grimace with disgust. Greg Watson, the director of USPRI, who was responsible for the death of Jonathan Parker, and had lied to Karla countless times.

The voice belonged to Lance Patterson. "No, you're thinking of Aaron's rod. The rod of Asclepius was wielded by Aaron the prophet. It's often confused with the other artifact, the Nehushtan. That is the one that the boy will find and use. They are often confused together as both rods were said to become a snake at will. Both are powerful. Aaron's rod, Asclepius, is missing. No one knows where it is. It's powerful and dangerous. It can cause plagues, it can churn earth, which caused the Nile to turn red with sediment. It controls loose earth. It was the staff of the tribe of Levi."

"Is it dangerous in the wrong hands? Aaron's rod - the one that's missing." The voice belonged to Greg Watson, stepfather of James Parker.

Lance nodded. "It's very old. It was said to have been passed down from Adam - yes that Adam. It went to Shem, Enoch, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, and Jethro. It wound up in Aaron's hands later. Have you heard of the 'sword in the stone?' Surely you have. Jethro put it into his garden, presumably because of the rod's control over the earth in which it is thrust. It produces almonds, but it also can fuse with stone, cleft boulders, and change soil. Unfortunately I have done an interesting math formula regarding this staff and have a hypothesis on its location."

Greg paused and said, "I thought it was destroyed? Or am I thinking of the staff of Moses?"

"Both survived the wrath of Hezekiah," Lance replied.

Greg sighed as though frustrated. "Well, go on. It sounds like it is very bad. Tell me more about this, uh, Asclepius staff, or whatever you called it."

Lance 's voice sounded somewhat jovial as he spoke. "It can be bad. That's why it was passed down to the hands of the worthy. There was a sword known as Caliburn. Some also called it 'Collbrande.' This sword, Caliburn, was said to have been teleported into a slab of stone. That was the name of the legendary 'sword in the stone.' Karla and the twins thought it was Clarent or Excalibur. Yes, both exist. Both are hidden away in the island vault owned by the Parker family. But the real 'sword in the stone' was called Caliburn. And that sword's handle was made from the end of Aaron's rod. I'm sorry if this is coming off as confusing. Are you following me?"

Greg sighed again. He remained quiet for a moment as if preoccupied with something, then said, "Yeah, I think I follow."

"Would you be so kind as to humor me so I know you understand? This is extremely important."

"Yeah. There were two biblical staffs. The one that wound up in the hands of Aaron, brother of Moses, was able to create almonds, eat snakes, and create plagues. It could phase with solid rock. It had the bottom cut off, which was used to create the handle for a sword that wound up making Arthur become king of the British. He uses another sword, Excalibur, to defeat the Saxons and unite Britain."

"And were you listening to what I told you about the Nehushtan? Don't become side-tracked, Gregory."

"Yeah, yeah." Greg sounded as though he was trying his best to suppress his alpha-male tendencies. "Moses' staff could control water. It could create water to come up from the ground, and it could part the sea. Aaron's staff controlled the earth, and because the handle was used to create a sword called Caliburn, that sword was also able to phase with solid rock. What's the point of this? Do you know where both of these stupid staffs are hiding or are you wasting my time with a history lesson?"

"Yes, I'm afraid that's the clear-cut part of this situation - I know the location of one staff. The staff of Moses, the 'Nehushtan,' is in the Ark of the Covenant."

Greg asked, "But legend says it's the other one that's in the Ark?"

"Exactly," Lance replied in a bright tone. "A rumor has been started to claim that Aaron's staff is within that. But they were switched. Jaye is like Moses to a degree. He denies his heritage of a thief the way Moses denied being the acting adopted prince of the Pharaoh. He embraces his power but only uses it for good. He would be able to handle that rod. He will need it to stop Falcon."

Greg replied with a sour face. "So only Fara's son should handle it?"

"I imagine he would be a good candidate. But I'm sure anyone can handle it if necessary. To be safe, it would be best in James' hand when he comes of age."

"I see," Greg said, softly. "So what happened to Aaron's rod? Asclepius or whatever it was called."

Lance grew silent for a moment. "I believe Falcon has it. I believe he used it to bring the coast of America out to sea."

"Why the fuck would Falcon want an entire coastal strip of land brought this far out to the Atlantic?"

"Because, Gregory, the Capital City of the First Age was a city that became buried beneath the Atlantic. Presumably with Aaron's rod in the hands of someone powerful. It's a piece of technology. The town you saw beneath Richmond Virginia in August of 2011 is ... was part of that city. When humans discovered that city by means of super-deep boring, they studied it. I'm sure you remember August twenty-third, 2011. That's when you met Steven Milford."

"And Krys was fatally injured down there. What's so special about that stupid little underground town?"

"Falcon wanted it to line up with the Capital of the First Age. They're connected again. He used the rod of Aaron to pull the town and everything connected to it, so that it was lined up with the Capital City. It's akin to driving through the suburbs to get into a city. That town is now connected to the south gate of the Capital. It's the only way he could indirectly gain access to the Capital."

"God this is getting confusing. Okay." Greg held his hands up. "I get it. I'm getting aggravated. I'm too old to go running around doing all this shit anymore. So let me see if I've got this straight - Falcon used a staff to pull everything east of the Appalachian Mountains so that the whole strip of America's old coast now sits atop of the Mid-Atlantic Ridge. Everything is fucked up. Maine ripped off and became a mountain at the southern tip of Greenland; Iceland connects to Massachusetts, and Falcon can now access the superbore tunnel in lower Virginia, he can return to that town I saw buried in 2011, and he can use that town to access the capital city where you so-called First Age people once lived, right? So what does Jaye need with the staff of Moses?"

"Falcon's dome, he calls it 'New Atlantis,' is a man-made city with an enormous drill in the base. I am unsure whether or not it can penetrate into the heart of the Capital of the First Age people. But he still uses New Atlantis as his home. And it's still out there in the ocean."

"You expect James to part the goddamned Atlantic Ocean to get to Falcon?"

Lance coughed into his hand. "After all you've seen, is it so difficult to believe?"

"Yeah, you're nuts. You're completely nuts, Patterson. Are these stupid sticks creations of deities, or are they made of technology?"

"Human beings, and all living creatures for that matter, are created from DNA."

Greg rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I know that."

"When their DNA is manipulated, that living creature can change into something else."

"I understand the basis of genetic manipulation. It's how Falcon could imbue himself with the powers of other compatible supernatural people."

Lance nodded. "Correct. To a degree, all objects have, shall we say, a code of creation. For example, if you want a collection of polymers and molecules to become a battery, you only need to learn how to change the object so that it will hold a charge."

"Science doesn't work that way. You can't turn a brick or a stick into a goddamn battery."

"Not with modern technology, no. But if you want to make a staff out of an object that can phase with stone, or pull water up from beneath the surface like a magnet, or to use it to repel water away, allowing access through an ocean ... or if you want to create a stone object that acts as a self-generating power core ... then you only need to manipulate the so-called 'genetics' of that object. I'm dumbing it down for you, Gregory - I do hope you're following."

"Yeah I do, you don't have to be condescending. So, the power core from that town in 2011. The one that Krys died trying to take. Falcon uses Vincent to keep that thing from going critical, right?"

"Yes, exactly."

"I don't exactly see how this crap works. You're talking about techno-sticks and changing the molecular properties of an object to do unrealistic tasks." Greg grumbled then asked, "You mind dumbing it down a bit more?"

Lance seemed only too eager to oblige. "A piece of plastic or a rubber balloon can hold a field of static electricity around itself. Gregory, if that static was focused, a balloon or a child's plastic toy could become a battery. It only needs the technological know-how. My people could create a staff that controlled and manipulated water. The Nehushtan. That staff is in a town called Axiom. When James is ready, he should be the one to retrieve it."

"So if Falcon did all this crap to access this super city, then why does he need Fox and Topaz's child?"

"Fox and Topaz are chimera," said Lance. "They were each created as being genetically two different people. They are Fox and Topaz Parker, twin children of Jon and Sinopa Parker. But they are also genetically engineered to have the same DNA as the father and mother of a man who became the leader of my people."

"Jesus," Greg murmured.

Lance continued. "Using complex biometrics as a lock, our Governor ordered a computer to lock down the inner sanctum of the city. Falcon learned of this fifty years ago."

"And Falcon can't bypass or hack this computer?"

"No. Also, the leader of my kind has died. His mother and father were immortal and managed to live. Falcon found them in the mid-1990s. He took a sample of their DNA and they disappeared. I assume they're in stasis. Falcon somehow obtained the remains of our leader. Using the three samples he obtained, Aris Falcon managed to genetically engineer Fox and Topaz Parker so that their offspring would be born with exactly the same biometrics as our long-dead Governor. Even I am not sure how Falcon was able to make it happen quite that way. Every one of Fox's sperm and Topaz's eggs would have certain instruction sets to..."

"I don't wanna hear about the Parker twin's sex life, Patterson. I don't wanna hear about their jizz and their eggs. Anyhow, so Falcon made them want to mate, so that their kid would become the reborn leader of the First Age immortals. Right?"

"Exactly right."

"You couldn't have just said it that way the first time?"

"I'm a stickler for details. I'm a mathematician at heart, Gregory. Anyhow, Falcon was duped to believe that Carmen Parker is the child of Fox and Topaz. He abducted her after she turned twenty-one years old. Surely, by now, he's learned that his plan has failed. Or he's learned that Vincent is the girl's father. Regardless, she's useless to him. Falcon is most certainly angry. Using the Staff of Aaron, he's managed to access the First City, but without Fox and Topaz's child, he cannot get into the inner sanctum. The twins have gone to find Carmen and are now missing. It's likely that they've been captured. It's possible that Falcon will force them into a coma and breed them in a laboratory. Then he'll have to wait until the child has gone through puberty, and use that child. This buys us time but it is a band aid, not a solution. So we need to stop Falcon. This means we need a new team. Karla will most certainly go back down there and clean house."

"She didn't last time, what makes you so sure she's the one?"

"Falcon has her daughter and, now, he has her son as well. She is a mother. She will go down there and level Falcon's operation."

"Falcon will make a deal to give her the kids in return for making her return to the surface. Then we lose again! Same as last time!"

"You don't know Karla, do you? At least ... not very well. She'll find a way to kill Falcon to make sure he never comes after her children in the future. It's personal to her. Far more personal than it was twenty-five years ago. I wish to create a new team for Karla. A new generation of people that will blindly trust and follow her into the lion's den."

"Jesus Christ. Okay, fine. You're the one who plans out all the moves everyone makes. So let me ask you this - Falcon cloned Krys Monroe. Why couldn't he just make a clone of this First Age leader?"

"He tried. Apparently the biometrics of my home city can tell the difference between a clone and a natural born person. It didn't work. That's when he decided to make a natural-born version - Conner Parker."

"God, Falcon is insane. He's obsessed"

Lance replied in a pointed tone. "Yes, the man is obsessed and determined to learn the secrets of life that my people buried. I only wish I could understand how Falcon came to be obsessed with the First Age. What does he think he can do with that technology? What is his plan?"

"He thinks he's saving the world."

"Ah, yes, so he claims. I thought he was being manipulated by Sire St. Leonard, but the man is dead and Falcon is more determined than ever."

"So now what?" Greg asked.

"We hide you and your wife in a bunker below New York soil. You stay there until things play themselves out because you need to stay alive."

"What about you?"

"I'm a target. If I die, it motivates the team to win."

"What? You plan to die?"

"I've done the math. I do not wish to die. Regardless, you must go into hiding."

"What about James?"

"He cannot know. It's best to fake your death. That way no one will look for you. If James mourns you, then your death appears legitimate. I'll take you to the bunker first, then I'll fetch your wife and bring her to you. She'll undoubtedly be in the Parker family safe house designed by Jonathan. There's one in Chicago. But she cannot tell her son, else the ruse will not work."

"Fine. I don't like it, but ... when have I ever had the final say regarding your plans, Patterson? Never. What about Steve Milford? He won't handle your death very well. That guy was completely gay for you."

"Our relationship is more akin to family, Greg. And if I die, Milford will stop aiding Aris Falcon."

"What? Milford is helping Falcon? Are you serious!?"

Lance replied with a soft chuckle. "Yes, but not for long. And he will be useful to Karla's new team. So. Follow me. We have a few things to do before you officially disappear."

"I'm not sure this is necessary."

"It is," Lance replied.

"That stupid little bunker you showed me yesterday? That? You expect me to live in that tiny place?"

"I do. We're headed back there now, actually."

"God dammit," Greg groused.

Karla stared at her phone in silence.

Conner glanced at her, brows furrowed. "Say something. You never shut up, so you have to say something."

Karla rubbed her forehead. "What. The. Fuck."

Conner sighed. "We have to call James. He's the one that can handle the stick."

"Fine," Carmen cut in, "But he won't steal it. You heard them on the recording. He's not that kind of person. So we have to steal it for him and give it to him, Conner."

Parker thought about it for a moment then nodded decisively. "You're right. We do this for him, then give it to him. Alright, it's settled. The game plan is still the same. We steal this staff from the Ark of the Covenant. God help us."

Evan looked at his three friends and nodded. "I thought being a superhero was tantamount to the biggest honor. I thought fighting the good fight was the biggest and most important thing I could do with my life. And then I became a father. And then I found out the world might end, and all I wanted to do is make a safe place for my daughter to grow up. I never ... I never thought that..." he trailed off, trying to find the right words.

Karla gently drew Evan into a hug. "You never thought you'd be tasked with saving all life on Earth as we know it, huh?"

"Yeah," Evan whispered. "Something like that."

Carmen gave Karla's hand a squeeze again. "Isn't this where you break the tension with a joke?"

Karla shrugged. "How does one joke about something this ... immense? We're talking about sticks that can move mountains, kill millions in the wrong hands ... a staff that can part oceans and drown millions. I don't want to believe it's true but ... we have to face one very big, glaring fact: in 2025 an enormous section of east America ripped free of the continent, and then it moved almost two thousand miles away from the rest of the country. There's no faking that. And if Falcon has the means to do it again at will, we have serious problems. And all the supernaturals who could stop it have been dead for twenty-five years. It's us - we're all that's left."

"We might die trying to stop this guy," Conner said. "But this guy will kill us and everyone else if we do nothing. He did it before, twenty-four years ago. So, can we all agree here? We have one option. We fight."

"We fight," Carmen repeated.

Evan and Karla looked at each other and, nearly in unison, replied, "We fight."

---

Next Chapter: https://www.sofurry.com/view/780499