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Authors: Robert J. Crane
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better world just by imposing his will on all of us. I politely disagreed, telling him that you can’t stomp on a person’s free will and freedom like that. Then I disagreed less politely. With punches to the face.”
“You have a real wit,” Gail said, and it didn’t sound entirely like a selling point the way she said it.
“As you pointed out, I’m nineteen,” I replied. “You’re just lucky I’m not answering, ‘Totally!’ and ‘OMG!’ to everything.”
Roth turned her head down to look at her notes at that point, leaving about a half second of dead air. I remembered taking that moment to catch my breath. I could feel the sweat rolling down my back from the nervousness. “How long had you known this ‘Sovereign’?” She frowned. “Did he have a real name?”
“Marius,” I said, nodding. “His name was Marius. I’d known him for about a year, on and off? He came to me under false pretenses.” Very, very false pretenses. “He’d introduced himself as an ally, as a friend. It was only later I found out he was behind everything—”
“You realize that the concept of a giant conspiracy to keep this secret of metahumans under wraps is… well, it defies most peoples’ ability to believe?” Gail asked me. She did it a little haltingly.
I was ready for this one. “I know how they feel,” I said. “I felt the same way myself when I learned about the secret. I was raised as normal as anyone.” You know, except for being locked in my house until age seventeen. “When I found out the truth about what I was, it was an eye opener. But I quickly found out that not only were there people out there with powers beyond those of normal humans, but there was this whole other world under the surface, and there were bad things brewing in it that wouldn’t just go away if I ignored them.”
“Back in January of 2012 there was an incident in the city of Minneapolis,” she said, looking back to her notes. “A man—”
“A beast,” I said, ignoring the growls of protest in my head.
“—killed two hundred plus people while putting the city under a kind of siege,” she finished. “Was that a metahuman incident?”
“Yes,” I said. It had been. I took a breath, hoping her follow-up didn’t go in the direction I didn’t want it to.
“A week later, the city of Glencoe, Minnesota, was destroyed in a blast not dissimilar from what you unleashed in northern Minnesota at the close of your war.” Now she was turning toward accusing. “Was that you?”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “That was Aleksandr Gavrikov, a meta with a very similar power.” Exactly the same power, in fact. Because he was in my head, too, now.
“Another incident in western Kansas a few months later,” Gail said, flipping through her notes. “Hundreds of square miles on fire. An incident in the British museum, where the security camera footage shows you fighting with undisclosed adversaries—”
“I can explain that one,” I said, feeling like I was rapidly losing control of the situation, “those were Sovereign’s allies. Well, some of them were, at least, and—”
Gail’s voice overpowered mine. “You seem to have been involved in a lot of… incidents. Orlando Airport. A plane crash outside Bloomington, Minnesota. Some sort of battle on the freeway. The destruction of a warehouse—”
I felt my fingernails dig into my palms, drawing me from that moment, the moment when I could feel all control slipping away, back to the present, and a bullpen in New Scotland Yard where I was watching it all unfold on a screen. There was a tightness in my chest as I remembered the moment, and I looked away, trying to clear it out of my mind. I didn’t to be reminded of that interview, of what had happened during it. Because of it. Not now.
“Hey,” I said, ripping Detective Inspector Matthew Webster out of his interview-induced coma with a tap on the shoulder. He fumbled, the headphones popping out of his ears
“You have a real wit,” Gail said, and it didn’t sound entirely like a selling point the way she said it.
“As you pointed out, I’m nineteen,” I replied. “You’re just lucky I’m not answering, ‘Totally!’ and ‘OMG!’ to everything.”
Roth turned her head down to look at her notes at that point, leaving about a half second of dead air. I remembered taking that moment to catch my breath. I could feel the sweat rolling down my back from the nervousness. “How long had you known this ‘Sovereign’?” She frowned. “Did he have a real name?”
“Marius,” I said, nodding. “His name was Marius. I’d known him for about a year, on and off? He came to me under false pretenses.” Very, very false pretenses. “He’d introduced himself as an ally, as a friend. It was only later I found out he was behind everything—”
“You realize that the concept of a giant conspiracy to keep this secret of metahumans under wraps is… well, it defies most peoples’ ability to believe?” Gail asked me. She did it a little haltingly.
I was ready for this one. “I know how they feel,” I said. “I felt the same way myself when I learned about the secret. I was raised as normal as anyone.” You know, except for being locked in my house until age seventeen. “When I found out the truth about what I was, it was an eye opener. But I quickly found out that not only were there people out there with powers beyond those of normal humans, but there was this whole other world under the surface, and there were bad things brewing in it that wouldn’t just go away if I ignored them.”
“Back in January of 2012 there was an incident in the city of Minneapolis,” she said, looking back to her notes. “A man—”
“A beast,” I said, ignoring the growls of protest in my head.
“—killed two hundred plus people while putting the city under a kind of siege,” she finished. “Was that a metahuman incident?”
“Yes,” I said. It had been. I took a breath, hoping her follow-up didn’t go in the direction I didn’t want it to.
“A week later, the city of Glencoe, Minnesota, was destroyed in a blast not dissimilar from what you unleashed in northern Minnesota at the close of your war.” Now she was turning toward accusing. “Was that you?”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “That was Aleksandr Gavrikov, a meta with a very similar power.” Exactly the same power, in fact. Because he was in my head, too, now.
“Another incident in western Kansas a few months later,” Gail said, flipping through her notes. “Hundreds of square miles on fire. An incident in the British museum, where the security camera footage shows you fighting with undisclosed adversaries—”
“I can explain that one,” I said, feeling like I was rapidly losing control of the situation, “those were Sovereign’s allies. Well, some of them were, at least, and—”
Gail’s voice overpowered mine. “You seem to have been involved in a lot of… incidents. Orlando Airport. A plane crash outside Bloomington, Minnesota. Some sort of battle on the freeway. The destruction of a warehouse—”
I felt my fingernails dig into my palms, drawing me from that moment, the moment when I could feel all control slipping away, back to the present, and a bullpen in New Scotland Yard where I was watching it all unfold on a screen. There was a tightness in my chest as I remembered the moment, and I looked away, trying to clear it out of my mind. I didn’t to be reminded of that interview, of what had happened during it. Because of it. Not now.
“Hey,” I said, ripping Detective Inspector Matthew Webster out of his interview-induced coma with a tap on the shoulder. He fumbled, the headphones popping out of his ears
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