In The Ghost's Shadow: Children Of The Field, #1 2j5948

In the Ghost's Shadow

Children of The Field, Volume 1

CB Arnold

Published by CB Arnold, 2021.

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

IN THE GHOST'S SHADOW

First edition. July 23, 2021.

Copyright © 2021 CB Arnold.

Written by CB Arnold.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Dedication

Chapter One | Loss

Chapter Two | Project

Chapter Three | First Kiss

Chapter Four | Zindriya

Chapter Five | Andra

Chapter Six | Messy

Chapter Seven | Conflicted

Chapter Eight | Plan B

Chapter Nine | The Or Something Option

Chapter Ten | Revealed

Chapter Eleven | Catch-22

Chapter Twelve | The Field

Chapter Thirteen | Warrioress

Chapter Fourteen | Tortured

Chapter Fifteen | Invulnerable

Chapter Sixteen | Cycles

Chapter Seventeen | Day Four

Chapter Eighteen | Spilled Words

Chapter Nineteen | Pawn

Chapter Twenty | Entangled

Chapter Twenty-One | Code Key

Chapter Twenty-Two | Betrayed

Chapter Twenty-Three | Destroyer

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About the Author

This book started in an online class. Seven of us formed a critique group.

Because of the from this new group of friends I was able to complete this book.

Because of them, I am a better writer. I dedicate this book to them

Chapter One

Loss

How many more people I love will die because of my bad decisions? When will I start listening to my heart instead of my head? Is that why I shy away from Tish? Because I don’t want to kill her too? How much loss is too much? Brick knew he would never answer the last question until he reached that limit. The only way to even prepare for it was to face it head-on, if such tragedy were something for which he or anyone else could prepare. Mason Redstone, known to everyone on campus as Brick, sat four rows up from the front and near the center of the brightly lit amphitheater-like classroom, lost in thought. Even though he sat in the middle of nearly sixty students, Brick felt alone. The incredibly brilliant and otherworldly beautiful physicist, Professor Sandra Brennan Ph.D., glided into the room, flipped her raven hair, and locked her gorgeous green eyes onto his for one second that somehow transformed into an eternity. Then she smiled and captivated the rest of the class with her opening statement. As potent as they were, Sandra’s eyes had pierced Brick’s melancholy for only a moment despite the secret they shared. Everything after that frozen instant of time dissolved into background noise as most of his mind drifted back nearly seven months to the moment of his blood brother’s death. ❖

*****

❖ Brick despised heat and hated humidity. Seemingly in response to his emotions, the rainforest to the east of Naypyitaw, Myanmar, assaulted him with both. “Fritz, my cover’s blown, bro. We have to leave now.” Brick flicked a mosquito off his forearm, noticing that his already dark mocha skin had deepened at least one shade after spending a month in the glaring sun of the Southeast Asian summer. Fritz had tanned to a dark bronze, making him even more beautiful than he was in high school when they were lovers. The two of them were unattached, non-official cover operatives embedded in a mercenary group hired by rebels attempting to overthrow the first elected government in Myanmar that seemed to have a chance at survival in fifty years. Fritz had spoken for Brick to become a member, and mercies like that tended to blame the sponsor more than the sponsored. But for some reason, Fritz felt that his cover would be fine. Brick’s first thought was to knock him out and drag him away from the camp before all hell broke loose, but that’s what his heart told him to do. His head said that action might destroy Fritz’s confidence, and he wouldn’t do that to his blood brother. “It’ll be fine, Brick. I’ve been with these guys for a year now. They trust me. You should too.” Brick sighed and lowered his eyes, kicking at a mushroom growing from the rotting tree stump next to him. “You sure?” Fritz cupped Brick’s cheek and gazed into his eyes. “You trusted me back in high school. I know things have changed between us, but I haven’t changed. Trust me.” Fritz had always known how to get to him. He’d used a similar tactic to seduce Brick in high school. It still worked. Brick drew in a deep breath and exhaled it into a sigh. “Fine, but I’m stealing a Hummer just in case we need a fast getaway. I’ll be hiding just inside the jungle’s edge next to the lake where you’re meeting your crew.”

“Just leave. I’ll be fine. I don’t want them to get hold of you. We may not be together anymore, but I still care.” “Don’t worry about me, Fritz. You just stay alive.” Brick turned to leave but stopped. “I care too.” He disappeared into the dense jungle, heading for the vehicle depot of the unusually large and well-funded rebel camp. He easily evaded the armed patrols scouring the foliage for him. The rebels may be well-armed, but they really suck at this, Brick thought. There was only one guard at the depot, but she was fifteen meters away across open ground. Time to go hyper. An observer would have seen Brick disappear from the edge of the jungle, then reappear behind the unsuspecting guard in the blink of an eye. It was one of several abilities Brick had acquired from the inherited genetic enhancements forcibly induced in his parents. The sentry offered no resistance as he clamped a hand over her mouth, then plunged his fourteen-inch-long Maasai Panga between her ribs and into her heart. The state-of-the-art all-electric Hummer ran silently as Brick drove into the jungle. Then, suddenly, the skin on the back of his neck tightened, and a hole gaped in the pit of his stomach. He stomped the accelerator to the floor, hoping it wouldn’t be too late. As he approached the lake where Fritz was supposed to meet with his crew, Brick heard the staccato rhythm of automatic weapons fire followed by a scream. He burst into the clearing just in time to see his friend fall backward, arms flailing over his head, clouds of blood misting the air. Brick slammed on the brakes, heart pounding, too stunned to proceed, but only for a moment. He bared his teeth, yanked a grenade from his equipment belt, and primed it. He designed the palm-sized weapon, and it contained white phosphorus, nicknamed Willy Pete, magnesium granules, and powdered elemental sodium with a C4 trigger. The mixture made Thermite seem like a guttering tallow candle. He set the timer for ten seconds then stood on the accelerator, powering toward his friend’s prone body. The armored Hummer easily repelled the weapons fire from the rebels as Brick skidded to a stop between them and Fritz. With three seconds left on the timer, he winged the grenade into the air above the group of twenty rebels, then checked on his friend. Brick heard the enemy shout a warning about the grenade

in flight just before it detonated. Fritz was alive but hemorrhaged from several bullet wounds. He had to stop the bleeding but recognized the need to leave immediately. He carried Fritz to the rear of the Hummer, laid him inside, and closed the hatch. Brick glanced at the results of his handiwork, and it was more than he had hoped. All the rebels were either dead or burning or both. Those who were only on fire predictably jumped into the lake, which ignited the sodium blasted into their skin and clothes, finishing the job the Willy Pete and magnesium had begun. Beyond them, however, Brick spied an Armored Personnel Carrier speeding forward. That particular model could hold up to sixteen troops, but he had neither the time to wait nor the time to kill them. With Fritz’s life in the balance, every second was quite literally blood. He climbed into the driver’s seat and took off. Finally driving on what ed for a road, Brick slapped the Hummer into autodrive and jumped into the back to care for Fritz. When the AI pilot requested a destination, he barked out the first place that came to mind. Brick focused on his ex-lover. He did his best to stop the bleeding but knew there was only so much he could do with a simple first aid kit and a couple of field dressings. Tampons would have been perfect for the bullet wounds, but there were none in the container. Misogynist bastards, Brick thought, women in their crew and no tampons in the kit. The rest he had to leave to the Almighty. Brick returned to the driver’s seat. He disengaged the autodrive and stomped the pedal of the Hummer to the floor. Though the road was relatively smooth and the Hummer flew down it at full speed, the APC still gained on them. Something was up with that APC. At ten tons, even a hovercraft design should not catch up to a Hummer running flat out. Brick calculated that it would reach them in less than ten minutes. He could go off-road, but Fritz wouldn’t survive the punishment delivered by the uneven terrain. He risked a look back at his friend and spied the growing pool of blood. Brick focused on blocking the noise from the strained electric motor, listening for Fritz’s heartbeat, but heard nothing. He engaged the autodrive again and reached for the artery in his ex-lover’s neck. Fritz was dead. He’d lost too much blood, and his heart had just given out. Brick wondered if the soldiers in the APC could hear his scream of rage and pain when he slammed on the brakes, sliding the Hummer to a stop blocking the road. In Brick’s mind, his scream was a Klingon death roar, warning those in Sto’ Vo’ Kor that the great warrior Fritz

would soon them. Klingons did not mourn the death of a warrior in combat; they celebrated it. Brick intended to dance in the blood of his enemies. The APC stopped about fifteen meters away and vomited ten rebels plus one, their leader Leonin Korolev. A mirthless grin stretched Brick’s face as he primed his last special grenade, an antimatter-based implosion grenade. He whispered to Fritz and kissed his forehead before exiting the Hummer. You always wanted a Viking funeral, old friend. Until we meet on the other side, a part of me will always love you. “So, we meet at last, Mr. Redstone,” Koralev’s Russian accent blighted his words, “it is a shame the circumstances could not have been more pleasant. Your combat prowess is worthy of respect.” “I’m surprised you came to see me off, Korolev. I figured you for a behind-thescenes type.” “Does this worry you, Mr. Redstone?” The short, black hair and the mini mustache reminded Brick of a tall, slender Adolf Hitler. Korolev’s soldiers had dispersed into two phalanxes of five in an open, V-shaped formation with their leader at the point farthest from Brick. It was an excellent pattern for combat against an equally powerful force. Perhaps they understood what he was and what he could do. Good. “Not at all, but I think you should have brought more troops,” his mirthless grin widened, “oh, that’s right. They’re already dead. Ready to them?” Korolev’s face contorted into a squinty-eyed, pressed-lipped mask. When he spoke, it sounded like he had to pry his lips apart through the sheer force of his will, though his clenched teeth refused to comply. “You will die now, Mr. Redstone.” “Can’t kill what you can’t catch, Leo.” Korolev shouted at his troops to fire, but Brick was already on the move. A split second before the Hummer flashed into a bright white flare behind him, he went into hyper-mode, reaching the soldier on the far right in three-tenths of a second, just as that first victim squeezed the trigger on his Kalishnikov. Brick snapped

his neck, used the rifle to mow down three of the other four ahead of him, then released it into a slow-motion fall to the ground. He had planned his attack so that the destruction of the Hummer would either distract or partially blind the soldiers. His tactic had succeeded. Before the others could respond, Brick hypered to the soldier at the end of the second phalanx. He drew the Panga from its sheath, decapitated the soldier, then dropped out of hyper for a couple of seconds, just long enough for the others to see where he was. As he had hoped, in their panic, they fired in his direction. Two more fell to their friends’ panicked response as Korolev dove out of the line of fire, rolling into a fighting stance, pistol in hand. Brick went hyper one last time to finish off the remaining three soldiers, reappearing in real-time nose-to-nose with Korolev, the Panga at his side dripping crimson. The rebel leader tried to raise his revolver, but Brick bent the six-inch barrel and batted it away as if it were an annoying fly. Then he grabbed the front of the Russian’s shirt and lifted Korolev a few inches into the air. Striking at Brick’s hand and wheezing like a ruptured bellows, the Russian somehow squeezed out one word. “How?” “Because I’m a Ghost.” Brick thrust the Panga upward through Korolev’s lower jaw and into his brain, twisted it, then yanked the blade out, dropping the lifeless remains to the jungle floor. Brick’s father and sister glided in fifteen minutes later on a hopper, a vehicle he had designed from some plans given to him by the OSRD, Office of Scientific Research and Development. They had turned the schematics over to Brick a few years back so he could work out the kinks. Brick popped his head out of the APC. He needed to see why it had moved so fast. He climbed down and approached his sister. “When you send up a flare, Lil bro, you send up a flare,” Brick’s sister, Marble, remarked. She looked around. “That was one hell of a fight, Brick. Not bad. Not bad at all.” Mara sensed latent energy patterns and could profile a scene if she arrived soon enough. Her face suddenly fell when she turned to what remained of the Hummer. It had folded in upon itself when the implosion grenade sucked most of it into an infinity of nothingness. Not even the scientist who created the grenade knew where the micro-wormhole led. “Oh no, babe, Fritz?”

Brick shook his head and closed his eyes. A single tear darkened the front of his shirt. “I’m so sorry, Brick.” “First Kaylen, and now Fritz, Mara. My bad decisions keep killing the people I fall in love with.” “A bit sloppy, but a damn good job, Brick. Cutting off the head should kill the rebellion.” “Dad,” Mara bellowed, “Fritz is dead.” Flint Redstone picked up a small stone to use as a fidget. In his hands, it became malleable, and he molded it as though it were clay. “Well, sometimes there’s collateral damage. Part of the business.” If Mara hadn’t grabbed him by the elbow, Brick would have pounced on their father. “What was up with the APC, Brick? Why were you inside,” Mara asked, probably to re-direct Brick’s anger. It had worked to an extent. His eyes still tracked his father’s movements as his mind counted the ways to take him down. Vengeance had not eased his guilt and anger. “It moved too fast for a ten-ton mass of armor, sis. I wanted to see why. And I set a booby. Nobody else gets to use that thing.” “We could use it.” “Unless you’ve got a C-5 Galaxy cargo jet in your back pocket, it gets torched, sis.” “Alright, Alright. Ya don’t have to get all cantankerous with me.” Brick snorted, “Seriously? You actually used that word? How long you been saving that one up?” “There’s my Lil bro.”

Mara smiled at him probably because she had succeeded in taking his mind off of their father. “So, what’s up with it?” Brick glared at his dad again, who had checked himself out of their conversation, as usual. He was prowling around the battle scene, looking for anything useful. “Brick. Stay focused on me. You know how he is, and he won’t change. It’s always been just you and me. What did you find?” “G.S. tech.” “Gravity surfing? For reals? No one but us, outside of DARPA and OSRD, should have that.” “Yeah. Looks like somebody’s getting rich.” Scientists at the OSRD, supposedly disbanded in 1947, experimented with antigravity but had been unsuccessful. Some of their theories were revolutionary, but they had neither the budget nor the scientific skills to progress any further, so they shelved the project. When DARPA, the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency, was created in 1958, they re-opened many previously boxed projects, including the anti-gravity research, but they made little progress. Almost ninety years later, an upstart kid, only a sophomore in college at the time, stormed into the facility and changed everything. Brick’s ideas transformed the way the scientists looked at the research. They had chosen the wrong track to develop Anti-Gravity. However, Brick’s innovative perspective and keen insight into Quantum Theory helped them discover a way to use the fluctuations in the Earth’s gravitational field as a method of propulsion. Gravity Surfing technology was born. “Dad. You hearing this?” “I heard Marble. I just sent word to my in the Air Force’s OSI. She’s clean, and she’ll find the leak. I think we’re done here. We should leave.” Brick tossed a remote embossed with Russian Cyrillic script to Mara. “You do the honors. I know how you like blowing things up. Just wait until we’re about a

mile away.” “Awww. You know me so well.” Mara wrapped Brick in a headlock and nuggied his head. “Get off me, you frigging hag,” Brick initiated their daily give-and-take, disengaged from the hold, and stuck his tongue out. “Shut up and get in the hopper, Lil punk-ass negro.” Mara finished their routine but, instead of smiling back, she folded him into a tight hug and whispered, “I gotchu Lil bro. I’m so sorry about Fritz. I know what he meant to you.” Brick returned her rib-cracking hug, released a sigh because of the uncharacteristic gesture, and breathed in Mara’s soothing scent of cinnamon, and turned earth, “Thanks, sis. I love you too.” Mara was his world. Their mother had died when he was three years old. Since then, she had been his loving mother, stern but fair father, understanding but annoying big sister, and asshole older brother. They also had a freaky, twin-like psychic bond as well. Mara always knew when he needed her. The trio climbed into the hopper and flew away, surfing gravity, as a grinning Marble Redstone activated the detonator. ❖

*****

❖ Brick’s mind emerged from the depths of his memory, but he had not fully returned to the present. However, he was aware enough to know he had missed something. Then he heard the voice of Latisha Owusu, the woman everyone at Jarvis University and perhaps all of Colorado Springs knew he loved.

“I choose Mason Redstone.” Brick wondered what the hell was going on for Tish to choose him, a man she despised.

Chapter Two

Project

In most classes, idle chatter formed the constant hum of background noise that Brick typically ignored, but at the moment of Latisha Owusu’s announcement, a pin drop would have sounded like a cannon shot. All of the students in the classroom were looking at him—every one of them. “What? What did I do?” “You ignored me, Brick. I chose you as my partner for the project.” The silence was eerie, like everyone held their breaths, waiting for word from him to exhale. Brick was not used to that kind of attention, nor did he want it. Still, there he was, the center of the enclosed universe of the classroom. The pressure from their eyes seemed to compress all of the mass in the room, weighing him down with his own, very personal gravity well. Brick answered, the snark pulling up the right side of his mouth ever so slightly. “Why me? You hate me.” ❖ “True, but you love me, so it balances. Besides, we’re the top two students in class, we’ve both had a bad semester, our skill sets totally complement each other, and we need the extra credit to graduate Summa.” “Yeah. Still not convinced.” Mostly Brick was stalling, trying to catch up on what was going on. He ed something about a project. “I didn’t hear a denial, Brick. So it really is true?” “Don’t front. The whole campus got the 10-4 on that when my ex-bestie outed me last year.”

“I didn’t hear an answer either.” “Still waiting for a valid reason.” “Dude, seriously? You’re telling me you don’t want to spend some quality time alone time with the woman you love—with all of this?” Tish’s hands moved up and down her body as if she were presenting herself in an infomercial. She tossed Brick a smile that brightened her eyes and almost mesmerized him, but a flash of anger snapped him out of her spell. “Aw hell no,” Brick bolted to his feet and glared at Tish. For that moment, the two of them were the only ones who existed. “If we do this, and that’s a big frigging if, You will not use my feelings against me. Is that clear?” Tish sat there round-mouthed and wide-eyed. Brick figured that must be her astonished face. It wasn’t one he was familiar with, not that they had spent much time together in the past. She was the popular girl, and he was the geek. He looked around and saw similar expressions on his classmates’ faces, and light banter had broken out among some of them. Brick’s actions were out of character. He wasn’t known for standing up for himself, much less emotional outbursts. Everyone thought he was a weak, wimpy, pacifist nerd-freak, which was how he wanted it. No one could know the truth. Brick wanted desperately to partner with Tish, but he had to set some ground rules. The classroom was as good a place as any, even though it might change a few opinions about him. Still, it wouldn’t move the bar too much because the subsequent public beatdown from Tish’s boyfriend and his posse would dispel the reaction to the incident pretty quickly. “Is that clear, Tish?” “Um, yah, Brick. Sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.” Damn, she backed down, he thought, didn’t see that coming. Or is she setting a trap for me? “As long as you stick to that, I’ll partner with you. You do it again, and I walk.” The room exploded with applause; some of them even stood. A nearby student,

Brick couldn’t his name, clapped him on the back and congratulated him for finally standing up for himself. He heard others talking about being witness to the school’s best drama scene so far that year, and another was irritated that she hadn’t recorded the whole thing. “Well, that was quite the show, you two. Let’s hope your project will be even half as interesting as this little showdown we witnessed.” Brick started to apologize, but the Professor interrupted him, “No need to apologize, Mr. Redstone. Yours was a thoroughly enjoyable exchange— enjoyable and revealing,” She smiled at him, which stirred emotions in Brick that had fueled his fantasies when Professor Brennan tutored him during the previous semester’s Quantum Mechanics class. It was more than an ordinary smile because it, as her eyes before, concealed a secret. Professor Sandra Brennan was the head of the newly-formed Combined Sciences department. She was as brilliant as she was beautiful; a raven-haired, greeneyed, bespectacled, nerdy supermodel. Her soft Irish burr simply added another irresistible facet to her persona. Tish must have noticed the smile because Brick watched her eyes squint and her gaze shift back and forth between him and the professor. Thankfully the instructor’s following words broke the spell. “Since you two spoke up first, you may leave. I’ll see the both of you two Mondays from now.” Brick felt his jaw drop, and when he looked at Tish, her mouth hung open as well. The classroom exploded again, but this time with catcalls, complaints, and a few congratulations as well. Hands immediately shot up, likely hoping that the next set of partners would get at least half the deal they had received. Professor Brennan prodded them to leave, so Brick grabbed his belongings and headed for the exit at the rear of the classroom with Tish a step or two behind him. Once they left the Science Hall, Tish called to Brick, “Let’s go to my house and start planning.” Plumes of steam from her mouth evaporated quickly in the cold, dry air of the Colorado winter. “Your place? It’ll take me two hours to ride the bus there, and then I have to get home. Why don’t we set a time and place tomorrow?” “Brick, I’ll drive us to my place, then drive you home after, you goof. We might

as well start getting used to being around each other if we’re gonna do this thing.” “You’re okay with people seeing me riding in the same car as you?” “Yah. I’m not the same person I used to be, Brick. I’m tired of all the BS and posturing it takes to be part of the hip crowd. This year, I’m following my own path. If that means being seen hanging with a nerd, so be it. Come on.” Tish started walking, and Brick shadowed her after a second or two, a part of his mind thinking that she was literally following her own path. He chuckled inwardly at his silliness. He couldn’t think of anything to say in response, so he walked along in silence, slightly behind her. The view was a lot better from that vantage anyway. The parking lot was large, and it was full, being the first day of class in the last half of their senior year, but Tish walked in a beeline straight to where she had parked her electric blue Tesla. She never strayed from her path once. Brick was impressed. He would have been hopelessly lost among the sea of automobiles. “God, what a view. We caught it at just the right time. Have you been to Pikes Peak lately, Tish?” “Oh. You meant the Peak. I thought—,” Tish turned to look at him. “Thought what?” Brick felt his eyebrows rise more than an inch. He figured she had busted him watching her. She spun away to face The Peak once more, “Just forget it. I went before season’s end last year,” Tish paused, “I love this. The air is crystal clear, there’s no wind, and the sun is at just the right angle. Everything looks so close.” “Yeah, I call it the lensing effect. It’s like you can reach out and touch The Peak.” “And Garden of the Gods too,” Tish tossed him a sideways glance, “Is that lensing thing a scientific term, math-boy?” “Nope. My very own creation.”

“So you do have an imagination.” “Stop smiling. It wasn’t that funny.” “Yah, it was. You smiled too.” When Tish reached the driver’s side door, she turned toward him, put a hand on her right hip, bent her left knee, and stared at him. The world melted away as she became his universe for that moment. Brick used that frozen moment in time to ire the woman he wanted most in the world. Tish was what people considered plus-sized or BBW, but she was solid and fit with a glorious hourglass figure. Her cinnamon-colored skin matched her eyes which were deep-set and almond-shaped. Her jet-black, wavy hair flowed over her shoulders and down her back and ended near her waistline. Tish was fivefoot-five, but the way she carried herself made her seem almost as tall as his own six feet. To Brick, she was nothing short of a vision. “We need to make a deal, Brick.” Her statement snapped him out of his trance, “Deal? What kind of deal? What do you mean?” “I need to be able to trust you, so we set some ground rules, okay?” “Okay, I guess your half of the deal is to not use my feelings against me. So, what’s my half?” Tish paused for a moment before answering, “You can’t objectify me.” “Define objectify.” “Seriously? I have to spell it out for you? I thought nerds were supposed to be smart?” “Being a nerd means that I probably don’t have a lot of experience with women, right?” “Yah. Guess you’ve got a point. And if you say something about the top of your head, I’ll hit you.”

“Why so violent?” “Some people just bring it out in me. Now shush; I have to think.” Still maintaining her model pose, Tish raised her left hand to her mouth, one eyebrow dove toward the bridge of her nose, while the other arched high above it, apparently her thinking face. She held that look for a few seconds before answering, “No accidentally brushing against me, no looking down my blouse, no innuendos of any kind, no offer to massage my shoulders or any other part of my body, and no staring at me with those damn puppy dog eyes you had a second ago. Stuff like that. Deal?” Brick stuck his hand out to shake, “Deal.” “Uh-uh. You know that I seal serious deals with a kiss. Everybody knows that.” Brick was shocked. His heart soared at the prospect of kissing his love interest, but his mouth had other ideas and acted before he could stop it. “Why would you want to kiss someone you hate?” “Look. Maybe hate is too strong a word. Yah, it’s the word I say to people, but I don’t really hate you. I just don’t like the way you represent.” “Not following.” “You’re a pacifist,” Tish began ticking the reasons off with her fingers, “you run from trouble; you don’t stand up for yourself or fight back. If you can’t stand up for yourself, how can anyone else depend on you to stand up for them?” “I stood up for myself against you in class just a few minutes ago.” “Yah. Once in, how long?” “Still happened. Look, just because I don’t like to fight doesn’t make me a pacifist. Maybe I’m a different kind of warrior, and, just so you know, I do stick up for others.” “Really? When?”

“Many times, but about a month ago, you were there when it happened.” Brantley, Tish’s on-again/ off-again boyfriend, and his gang of goons had been trolling the Quad looking for a victim and found a prime candidate in a friend of Brick’s. Tish was sitting on a bench in the Quad, talking to a friend. She and Bran were in one of their off-again times. Brick happened to cross the Quad at that time and saw the goons pushing around his friend. He changed course then ‘accidentally’ stumbled, careening into Bran, who immediately turned his attention to his all-time favorite punching bag. At a secretive nod from Brick, his friend bolted. “Wait. You did that on purpose? Why?” “Because I knew I could take what the goons could dish out, and my friend couldn’t. Those guys can’t hurt me. Hell, my sister punches harder than they do.” “Huh. Never would have figured. So, how are you a warrior?” She doesn’t miss much, does she, Brick mused. “I know I’m misquoting, but to paraphrase Sun Tzu, a successful warrior wins first, then goes to battle while the unsuccessful warrior goes to battle first, then tries to find a way to win. When I took the place of my friend, I was the successful warrior.” “How?” “My goal, my plan, was to shift their attention away from my friend. I succeeded in that while causing them to fail in their attempt.” “Which was?” “To cause fear, pain, and panic. I took that away by becoming their target because I’m not afraid of them, and they can’t do any real damage to me. Sure they get in a lucky shot every once in a while, but nothing serious. Like I said, my sister hits harder than they do.” “Huh. It just looked like you blundered into it.” “That’s the way it was supposed to look.”

“Don’t you care what people think about you?” “The only opinions that matter to me are those of my family and the few people I call friends. They know who I am and what I’m about. Everyone else— irrelevant.” Tish and Brick bantered back and forth about opinions, how much they matter, and why her opinion of him didn’t really matter if he was in love with her. After a short while, they resolved most, if not all, of their issues—at least those on the surface. Brick had the feeling that each of them had deeper conflicts to resolve but knew they wouldn’t fix them at that moment if they could even vocalize them in the first place. The first item on the table was to establish trust, then see if they could make their partnership work. According to Tish, to trust him, she had to kiss him. “I think I’m all talked out, for now, Brick. Do we have a deal, or do we go back to class and pick other partners?” “What do you think we should do?” “I think we have a lot to discuss. We need to get to know each other better to work more efficiently, which will take time. I also think that we can be a great team if we work at it.” “Intuition or logic?” “Cryptic much,” Tish rolled her eyes and pursed her lips, “A little bit of both, Brick. Do we have a deal?” “Deal, but who’s gonna make the first...?” “God, Brick, just shut up and kiss me.” Brick floated toward Tish, who tilted her head up, ready for him. He stared into her eyes. He expected to see indifference in them but found something else. Brick didn’t know her well enough to understand what those beautiful, cinnamon-colored eyes conveyed. Whatever it was, it was way better than what he expected.

He lowered his head and pressed his parted lips to hers. Tish opened her mouth slightly and flicked her tongue out, teasing the inside of his upper lip. Brick teased back, and he felt her lips open wider, inviting him in. It seemed as though she smiled ever so slightly. Tish relaxed into Brick, wrapped her arms around his waist, and pulled him close. He responded to her but, despite her apparent invitation, never took more than she offered. The kiss lasted longer than he would have dreamed. When they parted, each was slightly out of breath, foreheads touching. He couldn’t know how Tish felt, but Brick’s head was spinning. Realizing that she could probably feel his physical response, he released her. Tish slowly backed away. “That was—um—surprising and amazing, Brick. That kiss was legit.” “Yeah. It was. So, deal sealed?” He played it cool even though he felt hot, bothered, flushed, and aroused from the kiss. “Yah, we have a deal. C’mon, let’s go.” As they drove away, Brick had a favor to ask, “I’d appreciate it if you’d call Brantley and talk to him about the kiss. There were a few people who saw us, and you know it’ll get back to him. I’d like to limit the chances for another beat down.” “Yah, sure, but me and Bran are kind of on the outs right now. I don’t know if it really matters.” “Does he know that?” “I don’t know. He should.” “We are talking about Brantley.” “I’ll send him a text.” “Thanks. I’d appreciate it.”

During the drive, Tish and Brick’s robust conversation touched many topics and never ceased until they arrived at her home. He found that they had quite a bit in common when it came to interests outside of school. The kiss remained at the forefront of Brick’s mind all the way to the Owusu estate and kept him warm and tingly. That feeling evaporated when they pulled into the gravel-covered driveway.

Chapter Three

First Kiss

An enigma is simply a puzzle most people lack the imagination to solve. From a burning journal at a secret lab ❖ After their brief conversation outside the Science Hall doors, Tish walked briskly to the campus parking lot, then directly to her car with Brick trailing close behind. She thought it was likely that he was watching her butt but refused to turn around to check. She had some thinking to do. Brick had stood up for himself for the first time since she’d known him. He actually showed some spine, Tish thought. She tried to brush it off, but the thought nagged at her. What did she know about Brick? Not much, really, just that he was supposedly a spineless, pacifist wimp. But that’s not what I saw back in the classroom. His eyes were almost literally blazing. Tish stood at the driver’s side door of her car and turned to face Brick, who had stopped a couple of paces behind her. She told him that it was deal time. When Brick asked her what her part of the deal was, she had to come up with something. When she struck her pose and started to think, Tish wasn’t in the least bit oblivious to the way Brick was looking at her, not exactly leering but not trying to hide his feelings either. She had heard a turn of phrase once—he breathed her in. She felt that statement fit perfectly. Tish knew he liked the way she looked. Brick’s gaze wasn’t lustful; at least it didn’t feel that way. She sensed it was more like adoration, and it didn’t feel weird coming from him. Perhaps he did truly love her. Still, it would not do, not if they were going to work on a project together. Both of them needed to remain as objective as possible. That gave Tish the idea for her side of the deal, so she

let him know that he couldn’t objectify her, then broke it down into smaller pieces so he would understand exactly where she was coming from. When Brick stuck his hand out to shake, she ignored it and told him that she sealed big deals with a kiss. Then he asked the question she had expected all along. Of course, he would ask why she hated him. It was a reasonable ask but was she ready to tell him the truth? Did he even deserve the truth? Why not, she thought. He surprised me once; maybe he’ll do it again. When Tish laid it all out for Brick, once again, he had surprised her. She had ed watching him stumble into her boyfriend, Brantley. At the time, she’d thought he was just clumsy. At no time would she ever have believed he was being heroic. The next thing that threw her off balance was when he told her that her opinion of him was irrelevant. She had to get some answers to that. “If you’re in love with me, why doesn’t my opinion matter?” “It’s like with your hatred of me. Maybe Love is too strong a word. I’m irresistibly, irrationally, intensely, and maybe irrevocably attracted to you.” “Cute using all adverbs beginning with ‘I’,” Tish interrupted, lifting the left corner of her mouth into a smirk. Brick ignored her and continued, “I have no more control over it than my cousin has over being gay. It’s not a choice; it just simply is.” Tish noticed that Brick was a little upset. Maybe he didn’t like that he had no control over his feelings. Perhaps he really didn’t want to be in love, or whatever, with her. “The reason your opinion doesn’t matter is that we’ve never had any kind of relationship, Tish. Regardless of my feelings for you, we aren’t even friends. My dad has this thing he says to people, especially when they’re annoying. He tells them, ‘You’re not my friend. You’re not my boss. You don’t sign my paychecks, and we don’t sleep together so why do I care what you think?’ Well, that’s kind of how I feel when it comes to your opinion of me.”

“Alright, I feel you,” was all Tish could muster. She couldn’t even be mad at Brick because he was right. They barely knew each other. Yeah, what he’d said had stung, but she hadn’t perceived any malice in his voice, nor had she seen it in his mannerisms. It was simply the truth. I thought I had him figured out, Tish mused, turns out I don’t know him at all. Brick actually has layers—some real depth and strength, just hidden. “So why do you have to seal major deals with a kiss?” “I thought you’d ask about that. Did you ever watch those old kung fu movies?” “Yeah.” “Some of the fighters used to say that to truly know someone, you have to fight them. Well, for me it’s a kiss.” Brick lowered his eyebrows and sucked in the left side of his lower lip. I guess that’s his speculative face, Tish thought. “Interesting. How’s it work?” “Look, I’m not going to explain everything to you. That would be like giving you the answers to the final exam. Not happening.” “How about a basic outline?” “Okay. Well, the way a man or woman kisses tells me whether or not I can trust them. That’s all I’m saying.” It seemed to satisfy Brick’s curiosity. After a couple more minutes of talking, she realized that they would have other issues that they couldn’t resolve at that time. At least they had a decent foundation for a partnership, as long as the kiss went well. If it didn’t, she had no clue what she would do. She needed him as much as he needed her to nail the project. She didn’t believe there was anyone else who would be as innovative as Brick. He was the idea guy and a master engineer. She decided that no matter how the kiss went, she would still partner with him. If it turned out that she wouldn’t be able to trust him to honor their deal, she would just keep a close eye on him and hold his friggin feet to the friggin fire if things

went south. Brick was hemming and hawing. Then he was about to ask who would start. A little exasperated that he didn’t take the initiative, even though he was supposed to be all about her, she told him just to kiss her already. The kiss started as a simple pressing of the lips, not at all what Tish expected. Of course, Brick wouldn't try anything, she thought, so she thrust her tongue out and tickled the back of his upper lip, just to see how he would react. This was her test. Would he take it too far or show restraint? Brick teased back, and the kiss truly began. He let her control how far to go, never trying to take more than what she offered. But he didn’t hold back either. She relaxed into the kiss, wrapped her arms around him, and pulled him close. Brick’s response was what she’d always wanted. Of course, it had to come from someone she disliked, but damn she enjoyed it all the way down to her—well, past that to her toes. They clung so tightly to each other that there was no doubt Brick was into it too. The two of them were definitely feelin’ it. Tish was slow to end the kiss, part of her not wanting to stop. Brick desired her. That was something new. Her head was a little fuzzy, a warmth spread through her body, and her skin tingled as though a light breeze caressed it. Brick didn’t lust for her; he needed her. He expressed that need not with the raw, animal craving other guys and girls had shown when she had kissed them. He had unmasked himself by respecting her boundaries. Tish told Brick that the kiss was legit. Suddenly it seemed as though he was surprised that his arms were still around her, and he let her go, an apology evident in his eyes. Hate him or not, and she was already leaning towards the not, she felt she could trust him to keep his end of the bargain. The deal was definitely sealed. They got into her car and drove out of the parking lot. “So, what was so good about the kiss?” “That wasn’t your first kiss, was it Brick?” “No. I’m not a twenty-year-old virgin, you know.” “I wouldn’t know. What was your best kiss before this one?” Brick went silent. His eyebrows descended over his eyes, nearly concealing

them. His whole body attempted to shrink into itself, and he pressed his lips together so hard that they all but disappeared. There was something in Brick’s past he still struggled with, and she had inadvertently stumbled upon it. “I don’t want to talk about it.” With a visible effort, he shook off the cloud that threatened to prolong his dark mood, and continued, “Sorry. Thought I was over that, but it hit me like a ton of bricks, pardon the pun.” He shook his head, and it looked as though the move lay somewhere between a denial and a decision. “No, I won’t talk about it. I’ve only told that story to one person, and she outed my feelings for you.” “Alright, Brick. I won’t ask.” “So what about the kiss?” Tish sighed, then took a deep breath. She didn’t know why she was doing it, but despite everything, that was a damned good kiss, and because of it, she trusted him, so she explained. “ how, at first, I teased you on the back of your lip?” “Yeah.” “Well, most guys and girls, for that matter, take that as permission to go all-in. They think that I want them to go for it. They grab my ass and/ or my boobs and basically start cleaning my tonsils with their tongue. Total buzzkill.” “And you don’t trust them because of the old give ‘em an inch, and they’ll take a mile thing?” “Yah.” “So, what was different about the way I kissed?” “Are we going to play twenty questions, or will you let me finish?” “Sorry. My bad.” “I don’t make a ton of deals serious enough to seal with a kiss. This one was

important because what we were promising was going against entrenched behaviors and I needed to know I could trust you to keep your end of the bargain.” To Tish, Brick looked like he was about ready to jump out of his seat, but he held back from asking another question. “You were the only one in a very long time to respond like I wanted. You teased back, but you let me control how far I wanted to go. You didn’t take for granted what I was offering, and you didn’t shy away, afraid that you were taking too much. Out of those who ed my test, you were the best.” “So, you trust me.” ‘Yah. Don’t get any ideas, Brick. I’m still not sure whether I like you or not.” “But I moved the bar some.” “You could say that.” Tish groaned inwardly when Brick asked her to her currently off-again boyfriend, Brantley, so he didn’t get beat down over the kiss. She agreed, but she really didn’t want to talk to him. She was pretty much done with his misogynistic ways, and to call or even text him might give him hope. Tish peeled back a couple more layers of the increasingly complex puzzle named Brick Redstone during the short drive to her house. They liked the same kind of books and both were interested in technology. Music was where their tastes diverged a bit. Brick was more into acoustic, while Tish preferred vocals. The most surprising thing she discovered was that he adored romantic comedies. They shared favorites such as When Harry Met Sally, Something About Mary, and The Wrong Missy. Probably the best thing was that he was a huge fan of classic sci-fi, just like her own family. Two Fridays a month Tish and her parents had a movie night where they watched classic sci-fi movies while eating hot dogs and popcorn. “You are such an enigma, Brick. I thought I knew you, but I honestly don’t, do I?” “An enigma is just a puzzle that most people lack the imagination to solve. You

don’t lack imagination; curiosity maybe, but not imagination.” “I like that. Did you just think that up?” “No. It’s,” Brick paused for less than a second, but it was enough to pique Tish’s supposedly lacking curiosity, “...it’s something I heard from my dad.” “And what do you mean about my not being curious? I ask plenty of questions.” “Asking questions is infinitely different than seeking answers, Tish, or the truth.” Brick’s response stunned her. Not only was this supposed wimpy, pacifist nerdfreak one of the most brilliant minds and skilled engineers in the school, he was also a deeply-layered philosopher. Maybe he’s right. I’ve formed my opinions of him based solely on hearsay and conjecture. Perception is one’s personal reality, but it is not necessarily the truth. Tish opened her mouth to respond as she pulled into the long, looping, gravelcovered, tree-lined driveway in front of her home—where Brantley stood leaning on his Porsche. “Shit,” both Brick and Tish cursed in unison. Instead of driving onto the concrete slab in front of the five-car garage to the right of the sizeable estate-like manor, she pulled into the bend of the driveway, parked behind Brantley’s car, and got out. Brantley approached her, gravel crunching with each step. Brick also exited her vehicle, staying on the enger side, just behind the front tire. “You haven’t called me in weeks and now I find you hanging out with the pacifist nerd-freak who’s got the hots for you. What’s up, Tish?” “First, we’re not hanging out like you mean it. He’s my lab partner for a science project. You know I can’t stand him.” “Right. I heard about the kiss. What’s up with that?” “We cut a deal. I don’t make fun of Brick’s feelings for me. He doesn’t feel me up, okay? You know I seal big deals with a kiss. Why else would I kiss his punkass?” “So why haven’t you called?”

“I told you I needed a break, Bran, but you keep messing that up by gettin’ all up in my grill before I’m ready.” “Right. I’m supposed to believe you’re not steppin’ out on me on the down-low.” “I seriously don’t care what you think, Bran. You know, I’m tired of all this, just go home. We’re done—for good.” Tish walked past Brantley attempting to escape around the front of her car when he grabbed her arm, spun her around, called her a bitch, and lifted his hand as though he were going to hit her. Tish lowered her head and raised her arm to block. She knew she was way too slow and closed her eyes in preparation—but the blow never came, but she felt a slight gust of wind ruffle her hair. When she opened her eyes, Brick, who had been on the opposite side of her car, was, impossibly, between her and Brantley holding his wrist, preventing him from completing the strike. She moved away from the electrifying and thankfully unanticipated scene. “Let go of me, you fucking nerd,” Brantley growled, teeth bared in a snarl. “No prob, Bran. Just promise to leave, and I’ll let you go.” Tish saw Brantley, who had three inches and fifty pounds on Brick, try to wrench his wrist out of the smaller man’s grip. He could barely move Brick’s arm, much less get free. How is that even possible? “And if I don’t?” “Your posse ain’t here, Bran. It’s just you and me, no backup. You really want to push this while you’re all by your lonesome?” Brick’s voice sounded different—powerful, provocative, assertive, and totally in control. It wasn’t the voice of a pacifist, a coward, or a weakling. Another layer peeled back from the enigma that is Brick, Tish thought, but does it reveal more about who he truly is, or does it add yet another layer to the puzzle? “Fine. I’ll leave. Just know that your ass is mine later, freak.” “No prob, Bran. I’ll see you and your crew after you drink back your courage.”

Tish watched in astonishment as Brick released Brantley’s wrist. His grip had stifled the blood flow, leaving a garish, white handprint. She stared, transfixed as the blood rushed to fill the void while Bran shook the hand as though it had gone dead. Her ex-boyfriend stalked to his Porsche, jumped in, and peeled out, peppering her savior with pebbles. Brick casually brushed himself off and walked toward the front doors of her house. After a few steps, he must have realized that she hadn’t followed him. He stopped and turned his head slightly. “Coming?” “How?” Brick turned to face her, and his voice was cool, calm, and quiet. There was no hint of emotion of any kind, though he sounded like he might be a little tired. “Bran’s a coward, Tish; most bullies are. He’s a frightened child without his posse to back him up.” "That's only part of it. Again, how?" "Book? Cover?" “Fine Mr. Nigma. Why though?” “I told you. When I can, I protect those I care about, and I care about you...” Tish caught up to him as he continued toward the house. Brick said something more, but she couldn’t be sure exactly what he said. He’d been facing away from her and seemed as though he was thinking out loud more than anything else, but it had sounded like, though sometimes I wish I didn’t.

Chapter Four

Zindriya

Zindriya gazed at the vision that was her sister floating in the 3D computer screen. She envied every aspect of her face, from the strong, dimpled chin, to the perfectly shaped Cupid’s bow lips. She loved how Sandra’s elegantly sculpted eyebrows arched over almond-shaped green eyes and adored her magnificent, long, wavy raven-black hair. She coveted that face even though it was her own because her identical twin sister lacked the garish, ragged, keloid scar that ran from the outer corner of her right eye, under her own robust and dimpled chin, ending at the corner of her left eye. It was a gift from an unsatisfied client during the short time she’d had to sell her body to buy food and shelter, a gift the client had paid for with his remaining cash, his credit cards, and his life. Zindriya didn’t know she had a twin sister. A chance encounter at a bodega in New York City a year before had changed their lives forever. Despite keeping her own hair short and dyed bronze, the instant the two pairs of identical green eyes met, they knew. “So Sandra, how’s the plan going,” Zindriya’s high tenor voice displayed no trace of an Eastern European accent, having learned her English in the United Kingdom. “In point of fact, it worked better than I thought. Latisha asked for Brick all on her own, without any urging from me.” “As you thought she would, Professor. Don’t underestimate yourself. You have done well.” “I wanted to be sure of something, sister. I want to be clear about my part of this bargain. May we speak freely?” “Yes, Sandra, continue.”

“You won’t hurt Brick too badly, will you? You know I want him after you’ve finished with him.” “He won’t be physically damaged, sister, but he may be broken psychologically. He will be attached to me if my plan succeeds. Putting him back together again will help him fall in love with you, especially if you isolate him.” “I already have a plan; I do.” “Why do you want him so badly? Surely you can find a man, especially with your good looks. It’s not like Brick is exceedingly handsome, is he? Or is he that good in bed?” “I haven’t slept with him yet, though I have let him know it’s what I want. I like the looks of him well enough, Driya, and he treats me with dignity and respect. When I’m with Brick, I feel desired, not owned as with others. But, what I like most about him is his mind. He will be the most brilliant innovator in the field of Quantum Physics the world has ever seen.” “How do you know this?” Zindriya sat up in her chair, her interest suddenly piqued. Professor Brennan had tutored Brick during her Quantum Mechanics class because he had struggled during the beginning of the semester. It had only taken him six days of instruction to master the material. He then proceeded to sur every student in the class. It was like breaking up a logjam; once it was gone, his mind went into hyperdrive. Within three weeks, his knowledge equaled, then sured hers. She began feeding him unsolved equations and unproven theorems in the guise of school testing standard fare. One by one, Brick solved them with startling ease. The only problem was that she could barely follow the math he used. Sandra was a brilliant mathematician, but Brick’s solutions were on a scale she’d only heard rumors of in high-level think tanks. Average, everyday math uses a base of ten; logical since we have ten fingers. Binary is base-two math. When you solve problems that for infinite dimensions in an uncountable multiverse, or a subatomic microverse where macro-physical laws don’t apply, it is necessary to use math with different bases. Combining base-ten math with base-two math and resolving it into one solution requires a unique skill. Add to that a base-three and a base-six, and it becomes a daunting task to solve even with the most modern Quantum Computers

available. Brick solved those equations with a pencil and paper. “Have you ever heard of the Akashic Field or Zero-point Energy?” “No to the Field, Sandra, and yes to ZPE.” “To put it in layman’s , the Akashic Field is akin to the Force from Star Wars. It is believed to be the fabric of energy from which everything in the universe was created and by which it is still connected. Brick has the potential to discover how to access the Field and be able to literally control the forces of creation and chaos; of reality itself.” “Do you think he could crack the Zero-Point Energy problem as well?” “If he can access the Akashic Field, ZPE would be child’s play, Driya.” “Then he really is valuable. Hmm. Don’t worry, sister; I’ll not damage him.” “I can make it easier for you to get what you need from Brick.” Zindriya pressed her for more information. Sandra and Brick had arranged to spend his graduation night together, finally able to reveal their relationship without consequences. Sandra could extract whatever information from him Zindriya might need without kidnapping him. She could also direct his search for the ever-elusive, near-mythic Akashic Field. “You care for him, don’t you?” “I do, Driya. I’ve never met a man quite like him.” Zindriya reminded Sandra that he would be spending a lot of time with Latisha, supposedly a woman with whom he was in love. With her in the picture, the age difference between Sandra and Brick might make all the difference. Her sister protested that scenario, sure of her hold on the younger man. However, Brick had invented his own method of keeping their affair alive and secret. They met frequently and intimately in an Augmented Reality system he had created. Sandra wouldn’t allow an open relationship with an undergrad to threaten her career, but a virtual affair with Brick’s isolated system was untraceable—except for someone with Zindriya’s resources. It always helped to have a little leverage, just in case Sandra became problematic when it came to the young man.

For the moment, she decided to let her sister hold onto her fantasy. Zindriya had a plan which could yield results a bit more quickly. She had no genuine desire to wait another four months regardless of Sandra’s lustful obsession with her target. She was getting paid a lot of money to capture him. Still, the longer Sandra stayed in with Brick, the better. It would keep him more off-balance, his mind divided between the two women. That could make him easier to either capture or manipulate. She would have to think about it. After a few more minutes of conversation, Zindriya ended the video call because of a scheduled face-to-face meeting with one of her operatives. A light rap on the door to her office preceded Venton Smythe, the leader of the band of mercenaries, or mercies as they ironically chose to be called. She’d subcontracted them for the job. The only reason she used them instead of her own team was that they had shown excellent competency in a previous snatch and grab operation. Venton sat in a chair on the other side of her desk. “Report,” Zindriya barked. She didn’t really like the man. She didn’t like his looks, his behavior, nor his demeanor. The Brit was much too arrogant. She just hoped he would be efficient and effective. “The boyfriend did exactly as we wanted, with a bit of a nudge from us about the target’s little snog with the girl.” “And?” “The target’s definitely a Ghost, mistress. He crossed a span of nearly four meters in a heartbeat, and he proved to be stronger than a man larger than him. I’ve never seen his like. It was as if he disappeared from one spot and reappeared in another.” “Good. I want you to monitor their progress from a distance. I want to give the lovebirds time to get very close. Then, slowly ratchet up the pressure on the boyfriend. Get him ready for the coup de grâce but keep him away until we’re ready for him.” “Already in the works.” Zindriya reiterated the fact that Brick was a high-value, highly-skilled, highlytrained target with genetically-enhanced abilities and to be sure to bring enough troops to guarantee success. Venton assured her that he had the perfect team,

naming three of his soldiers plus himself. She told him to double or triple that number, and then he might have a chance. Venton laughed, claiming that Brick was just a kid. Zindriya reminded him that Brick was a Ghost, and despite their plan, he was likely to lose some of his soldiers. She told him to consider it a warning and threatened that if he failed, or if Brick were harmed in any way, Zindriya would kill him herself. “You hired me because I’m a professional Mistress Zindriya. I won’t fail you.” Zindriya didn’t respond, but like a snake with hooded eyes, she fixed her gaze on him for several seconds, watching him fidget in his chair. Finally, she flicked her eyes to the door then back to him. He mopped at his forehead with the back of his wrist, rose then moved to leave. “Be sure that you don’t, Venton,” she said in a voice barely louder than a whisper, but it must have scared the man because he picked up his pace in a rush to escape from the room. Zindriya smiled as the door closed. She loved making those supposed tough guys squirm. One little stare from her, and the cowards damned near shit themselves as they scurried away to whatever hole they could find solace in or to someone weaker to bully in order to reaffirm their place in whatever toxic masculinity social group they belonged to. Zindriya turned her thoughts back to Brick and ZPE. She didn’t really care about the Oshakic or whatever field-thingy Sandra had been blathering about. ZeroPoint Energy would be an absolute goldmine. That could be the ticket out of her current life. She had millions stashed away in the Caymans, but it wasn’t enough to live the lifestyle she wanted and deserved. Zero-Point Energy was basically power from nothing, potentially enough energy to run a large city for a decade from a module the size of a suitcase. It would be worth more money than she could imagine, and she had quite the imagination. Zindriya had already planned on betraying the organization that had hired her to acquire Brick. They wanted him because of his genetic heritage. He was a Ghost, but they wanted to know if he was the Ghost’s Shadow, a creature infinitely more evolved, and more dangerous than his father and sister combined. Her overseers had no idea how much information her syndicate had uncovered. If they knew, they would try to kill her. At first, she only wanted to control Brick and his potential abilities, but it

seemed as though his mind was infinitely more valuable, and Sandra was a better tool for extracting from him what she needed. Perhaps her way would be better in the long run. Zindriya could be patient if the ultimate payoff were worth it and if her sister could pull it off, and that was a big if. She had a lot to think about, and nothing helped her think better than causing pain. She always kept a prisoner in the lower levels of her stronghold nestled in the rolling hills east of Colorado Springs and south of the town of Calhan. She had acquired her new base of operations from the estate of a family who no longer needed it, having died shortly after refusing to sell. The property had been carved out of the bedrock on one side of a canyon wall. She had expanded the interior to suit her needs. It was now three levels deeper into the bedrock and totally self-sustaining with a direct well to the local aquifer, animals for food roaming the surrounding three hundred acres, a large hydroponics farm, and enough solar s, mini-windmills, and power storage to survive an utterly sunless winter. Zindriya entered the room where cushioned leather straps secured the prisoner to a metal-framed bed. The chamber was lined with white tiles and looked pristine. It would be hard for anyone to believe what went on in such a sterile-looking environment. She had a crew clean the walls and floors every day. They knew that if she found so much as a speck of blood or filth anywhere, even in the thin lines of grout, the foreman of the cleaning crew would become her next muse. She smiled in anticipation as she spied the emaciated body of her subject, fed intravenously by the dangling bags of dextrose infused with a clotting agent at the head of the bed. “The moon is unzipped and is falling into the flaming pit of the moth-eating gorilla boy,” the prisoner babbled, sobbing as he struggled to draw in ragged breaths, staring at her as she entered, and then up and through the ceiling. “Quite creative, Babel.” Zindriya had taken to calling him that, having forgotten his name weeks before. Anyone in her pay or undr her control relinquished the right to their own name. She would call them whatever was easiest to and they would accept it. “The way of the lion becomes the way of the lamb, so who will hunt the lion if the lamb now wears the mane?”

“Spouting worthless prophecy again? No matter. I will release you this night after I finish. I need to think, and you have been the best muse I’ve had in a long time.” His body was remarkably free from overt damage despite the torture he’d endured over the past several weeks. Zindriya had honed her ability to cause pain to a fine art. Unfortunately, she’d found no way to keep them from going quite mad after a time. As long as they screamed, she didn’t mind so much. She actually enjoyed Babel because of his bizarre ramblings. Occasionally, some of them even made a kind of sense. “Let’s see, which tool....” She bit her bottom lip while perusing the set of freshly sterilized medical instruments on the tray next to the bed. It wouldn’t do for one of her muses to die from Peritonitis or some other infection. The prisoner’s eyes closed as torrents of tears flowed down his cheeks. “Dreaming is sleeping, but if you die in a dream, do you wake up, and if you do, are you still dreaming when you die, or do dreams keep you awake even after you die?” Zindriya chose a small hook-like instrument and a scalpel. She bent over and reopened a barely healed, two-inch scar on the outside of Babel’s elbow. He barely flinched. She inserted the other instrument into the incision far enough to hook it behind the tendon attaching the forearm muscles to the elbow. She drew the hook back and forth, scraping the inside of the tendon. Babel’s screams pierced her ears for a few seconds, then ceased. She looked up to see if he had ed out or died, and his chest still rose and fell. His eyes, however, were blank and staring when seconds before, there had been at least a spark of insane life left in them. “Well, I guess our time is at an end, Babel,” she spat, pissed off that she hadn’t had the time to clear her mind. Zindriya jumped back as Babel suddenly heaved upward, every muscle in his body straining against the straps. Rage surged into his eyes as he seared holes into Zindriya’s very soul. “You evil fucking bitch! You whore! You slut! I’ll see you in hell soon, real soon!”

Babel’s voice changed and its conversion sent an imaginary needle of ice into the torturer’s spine, chilling her entire body. “When the lover becomes the liar, the eagle will strike, and your silver tongue will drown you in the Red Sea!” Rage forced the chill from her body. Zindriya snatched the scalpel and plunged it into each orifice of Babel’s face as she screamed, “Never—Ever—Call—Me—A —Bitch—Arsehole!” She left the scalpel buried in his mouth. “Now you have a silver tongue, fucker.” She stalked out of the torture chamber covered in crimson.

Chapter Five

Andra

Tish ed Brick as they climbed the stairs to the front doors of the expansive Owusu mansion. They are seriously loaded, Brick thought, or in some serious debt. He had no idea which it was, and, frankly, it wasn’t his business. He knew that Mr. Owusu was an independent contractor who primarily worked with the Department of Defense. Tish’s mom was a Human Resources consultant with a vibrant, lucrative lecture circuit. Brick caught himself iring Tish’s amazing, big, beautiful body yet again as she punched in her code to the keyless entry lock on the hand-carved ebonywood front door. She wore black tights and a close-fitting, fuchsia-colored, longsleeved v-neck top accessorized by an insulated black leather vest. Brick averted his eyes, ing the deal they had sealed with a kiss. She trusted him, and he had to earn that trust by keeping to his end of the bargain. Tish finished punching in her door code but didn’t open the door. Instead, she turned to him with squinted eyes, hunched shoulders, and fists clenched at her sides. “Someday, I’m gonna want an explanation of how you got around the car so quickly, okay?” Brick hadn’t expected her to let it go. “Maybe I saw what was coming. Maybe you and Bran were so focused on each other that you didn’t see me inching closer. Maybe by the time it happened, I was close enough to step in. Did you think about that?” “No, I didn’t, but I suppose it’s possible. You saying that’s what happened?” “So, you’d prefer to think I had super-speed rather than face the possibility that I

could foresee your angry, asshole ex-boyfriend hitting you? Personally, if it helps my image in your mind, maybe you should go with that?” Brick hoped he had inserted the proper amount of snark to press his point. Tish’s shoulders relaxed, her eyes softened, and she sighed. “I guess you’re right. You with superpowers?” She snorted, “not very likely, right.” Tish turned back to the door, unlocked it a second time, entered the house, and shouted that she was home with a guest. Brick sighed silently, finding it hard to believe that she had let him get away with that bit of evasion. Tish was one of the most astute observers he’d ever known. The incident with Brantley must have seriously rattled her to have missed it. Or did she just let it go to try and catch me on it later? Brick mused. Either way, he would have to stay on his toes. He followed her into the house’s foyer, a room about the size of his bedroom but more elegantly decorated in an art nouveau design with whites, grays, and blacks dominating the scenery. Thin strips of dark-stained maple surrounded the two windows in front and the two behind him on either side of the entry and exit doors. As they ed through the foyer into the house proper, it was evident that the same theme spread throughout the entire mansion. Brick caught a faint hint of lilac. The foyer emptied into what Brick would call a lobby or a hall. He imagined it was large enough to cause an echo if he were brave enough to pierce the silence with a shout. He looked up to find an enormous crystal chandelier hanging overhead. The lobby ended in matching double stairways curving to the left and right up to a second-floor balcony. To his left was a set of open, wooden double doors inlaid with what looked like crystal s. He could see that Tish’s mother and father sat on a large, plush, dark gray, L-shaped sectional. At least they’re smiling, Brick mused. To his right was another set of identical double doors leading to wherever they led. Brick couldn’t see through the crystal well enough to tell. To his surprise and dismay, Tish barked a greeting to her parents, then bolted up the flight of stairs to the right, shouting over her shoulder something about wanting to get comfy. Brick groaned inwardly, but kept his shoulders straight, stretched his mouth into as genuine a smile as he could muster, and walked

toward Mr. and Mrs. Owusu, trying his best not to trip on a crack while traversing the increasingly long distance of tiled flooring. It almost felt like one of those horror movies where the hallway kept getting longer the faster you walked. His worst nightmare almost came true when his toe briefly snagged on the transition from the tiled lobby to the carpeted living room, but he caught it in time and, hopefully, corrected the mistake without Tish’s parents noticing. Brick approached the imposing broad-shouldered figure of the 6’3” tall Amaye Owusu. He was an immigrant from Eritrea brought to the United States as a young child. He had served as an officer in a Recon unit, a special forces branch of the United States Marines. He’d deployed to Afghanistan and Iraq and had earned both the Silver Star Medal and the Purple Heart. He was a real-life war hero. “Mr. Owusu, my name is Mason Redstone, but people call me Brick. Pleasure to meet you.” Brick extended his hand, a little nervous about the encounter. Tish’s father smiled. Brick relaxed a little as he accepted the hand and shook it firmly, but not aggressively. “It is a pleasure, Brick,” his deep baritone rumbled, “well done, but I’d expect no less from Flint Redstone’s son. I met him once, long ago.” “Cool. I didn’t know you knew my father.” “I wouldn’t say I knew him, but we did meet once. You know, most of Latisha’s boyfriends aren’t brave enough to introduce themselves. I’m impressed already.” “Oh, I’m not her boyfriend, sir, just her lab partner.” “I see-e-e-e-e.” Mr. Owusu released his hand, brandishing a knowing smile on his face. Ignoring it, Brick turned his full attention to Mrs. Owusu. He introduced himself to her, noticing the similarities between the 5’4” tall, stockily built, mixed heritage Indian-American Hiral Biswas Owusu and Latisha. Brick saw the light in her eyes as she took his hand in a surprisingly firm grip of her own. “Are you sure about that?”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. Sure about what?” “That you’re not her new boyfriend?” “Oh, I’m positive about that,” Brick chuckled as he responded. “Why?” “Because she hates me.” Their scrunched-up-looking faces were almost comical. Then, finally, Mr. Owusu opened his mouth, presumably to say something just as Tish entered. “Yah, but Brick’s in love with me,” Tish pronounced as she strolled into the room wearing a coral-colored, form-fitting workout suit with a white stripe garnishing the outside of the sleeves and the legs. Brick did a double-take before getting himself back under control. Despite the moment, Brick had to restrain his humor as the parents’ faces morphed from that scrunched look to round-eyed, opened-mouthed visages as her parents’ attention shifted from him to Tish, then back to him, then back again. It was almost like watching a tennis match. “So-o-o-o, Brick. Could you clear this up for us? You it to being in love with Latisha even though she hates you?” “Yes, sir. Everyone at school knows, so I just own it. That way, no one can use it against me.” “So, how can you two work together?” “Because our skill sets mesh perfectly with each other, mom. And we cut a deal so our feelings won’t get in the way of our work.” “A deal you sealed with a kiss, I imagine.” “Of course, dad. It was definitely important enough.” “I see-e-e-e,” remarked Tish’s dad, the astonished look replaced by a smirk that brightened his eyes as it lifted the left side of his mouth.

Yeah, he sounds convinced, thought Brick. “Oh God, dad. Seriously?” Tish exhaled loudly and raised her arms to shoulder height briefly, then let them flap down to her sides. Her mom didn’t say anything, but she covered her mouth presumably to conceal the smile that had begun to creep across it. Tish put one hand on her hip. Brick was fascinated by the entire exchange, wondering if this was how a typical family functioned. He had never had what one would call an ordinary family, so he had no frame of reference. “You know, whatever. Think what you want. Anyway, are you gonna be using your workshop any time soon?” As it turned out, Mr. Owusu wouldn’t need his workshop and readily agreed to allow them to use it for their project. Tish turned to leave, brushing her hand across the crook of Brick’s elbow to guide him away from her parents. The touch sent a wave of pleasure through him. As he turned to leave, Mrs. Owusu winked at him and mouthed the words good luck, pasting a grin on his face. Tish led him through the large, sprawling mansion to what he assumed was the back door. Tish called out room after room as they ed, but Brick was so overwhelmed at the sheer size of the place he barely heard a word. There was no way he would find his own path to the front of the house without going around the outside. The place was a maze. Finally, they exited the rear door into nearly two acres of pure heaven. A modest flower garden flowed down the side of the house to the left. A gazebo covered with what looked like leafless grapevines housed a large, covered hot tub to the right. Wisps of steam curled into the cold midday air from one side of the cover, only to disappear shortly thereafter. The best part of the vast, grass-covered plain was the largish pond with lily pads floating along its edges about a hundred feet ahead. How the grass was still green, and the lily pads blooming in the dead of winter was a mystery for Brick to solve at another time. Across the pond was a house. He asked who lived there. Tish told him it was a guest house. The three-bedroom cottage was just a hair smaller than his own family’s home. About fifty yards to the left of the guest house was a stable and an arena, presumably for horses. Tish turned to the right, walked past the gazebo to a building about the same size as the guest house, which sat behind the five-car garage. She punched in the

code on the keyless entry lock, showing Brick the numbers, so he had access as well. They entered into a mechanical engineer’s paradise. Just about every tool and machine necessary to build whatever you needed, from micro to macro devices, littered the room in a masterfully organized state of chaos. Open shelving and cabinets lined the walls, and several tables of varying sizes carpeted the floor, leaving aisles between them just big enough to walk through. Brick had to touch his chin just to make sure he wasn’t drooling. Everything he saw also revealed to Brick exactly what Mr. Owusu did for the Department of Defense. He designed and built custom triggers and detonators for all manner of explosive devices, from conventional to nuclear to antimattertype weapons. Implosion grenades, too freaking cool, thought Brick. Fortunately, no magnetic bottles capable of holding antimatter lay anywhere in sight, or Brick might have been tempted to play. The faint aromas of machine oil, ozone, and the acrid tinge of C-4 tickled his nostrils. “Ho-ly-shit!” “I thought you’d like this.” Brick couldn’t say anything to Tish about what he knew. It would definitely blow his cover. He’d exposed himself enough when he had saved her from Bran. He wasn’t even sure if she actually believed his attempt at evasion, but he hoped so. “The word like is just not strong enough. This place is like Underland to me.” “Don’t you mean Wonderland?” “Tomato, tomaato.” “Whatever. So who’s gonna be in charge?” “You, of course.” “I think I should... wait, what?” “You’re a lot better at multitasking, and your organizing skills are off the hook. Depending on what we decide to build, it will likely have a lot of mini-projects that will merge into the whole. You have the best skill sets to manage all of that.”

“Huh. I didn’t see that coming.” “That’s what you get for hanging out with guys who suffer from toxic masculinity syndrome. I’m not at all threatened by strong women. Actually, I’m quite attracted to them — to women like you.” “Don’t you mean women like Professor Brennan?” Brick scrunched up his face, hoping it didn’t look like he was affected by her observation, “Huh? What do you mean?” “Uh-huh. I saw that smile she threw you as we left. I know that smile, Brick. I use that smile. What’s up with you two? Are you sleeping with her?” “Don’t know what you’re smoking, but you need to share.” Brick was sure she could see him blushing. He could feel his face heat up and was positive the blood rushing to it would expose him. ❖

*****

❖ Despite the clear and present danger Tish represented, Brick’s mind drifted back to the last day Professor Sandra Brennan tutored him, almost two months before, just prior to winter break. When he entered, all of the blinds in her office had been closed, and the curtains were drawn. He thought that had been odd but ignored it. She closed the door behind him, and he heard a clicking sound as though the deadbolt had been engaged. Brick turned as she approached and congratulated him for doing so well. Professor Brennan usually smelled of seaspray and lavender, but today, something was different. The scent of raw, unfiltered honey overlaid her base scent, and it was intoxicating. He held out his hand to thank her for all of the

work she’d done teaching him. She took Brick’s hand, told him that she would miss the time they had spent together and that she didn’t want it to end, then pulled him closer. Brick had never even dared to dream about what happened next. She slid his hand under her blouse, then kissed him softly and slowly as his hand caressed her bare breast. “Sandra, I...” Words failed Brick. It wasn’t every day a dream came true for guys like him. “I want to be with you, Brick, but the University...” “Then how does this work?” “I wanted, no, I needed to show you how much I want you, hoping it would be enough.” “Enough?” “For you to wait for me.” After he graduated in six months, she could be with him without risk if he could wait for her despite his attraction to Latisha. In Brick’s mind, Tish was unattainable, and this beautiful, brilliant, supermodel scientist wanted him. Frankly, he wanted her too because, other than Tish, Sandra was the most emotionally, intellectually, and sensually stimulating woman he had ever known. Brick’s attraction to the older woman was strong, and unlike Tish, Sandra returned his affection. “Does our age difference bother you, love?” Brick snorted. “Thirteen years? Pssshh, Please. Back in the day, men used to go off and earn their fortunes. Then, once they were set, they searched for a bride ten to twenty years their junior to marry and bear children. We’re nearly four decades into the twenty-first century. Why shouldn’t women do the same?” This conjured a broad, beaming, devastatingly beautiful smile from his supermodel scientist. “So you’d be willing to bear my children, would ye?”

Arousal obviously thickened the professor’s Irish brogue. “Perhaps, if it were possible.” Brick gently rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Her closed eyes and sharp intake of breath urged him on. “It has been so long since I’ve desired someone as I do you, Brick. I really want to be with you.” Sandra slid her hand past his belt, then under his boxers, wrapping her strong fingers around him. Brick inhaled sharply. “But Sandra,” Brick managed to say in between breaths as her fingers worked their magic. His hand delved under her skirt between her parted thighs, causing her breathing to increase. She squeezed him tighter. “Oh God,” Sandra gasped, “right now, love, I don’t care.” “I have a way, Sandra,” her insistent manipulations forcing him to pause, “a way to be together.” “But...” Brick swallowed hard. He could smell her desire for him as though raw honey oozed from every pore of her body. As each moment ed, it became harder to resist her pheromones as well as her very skilled fingers. “Wait, Sandra.” “You want to stop?” “Hell no, but if they found out...” Brick withdrew his hand, and after one last squeeze, so did Sandra. “Ye’ve some self-control, love. More than I do.” She kissed him again. “What is it ye have that can give us both what we’re wantin’?” In the throes of ion, her Irish burr thickened even more, enhancing his desire for her ten-fold. As he explained, she kept gloriously distracting him with kisses to the side of his neck,

just under the earlobe, driving him crazy, and causing him to shiver each time her lips and tongue caressed his skin. “I’ve built an Augmented Reality device with direct neural stimulation.” This piqued Sandra’s attention, and she, unfortunately, stopped driving him crazy. Brick cursed himself for being so damned sensible. He had cobbled together parts for the device from wherever he could find them. The neural s he’d had to build from scratch after reading every word of peer-reviewed medical papers on the subject of neural stimulation, or so he told Sandra. Brick couldn’t tell her, but through his father’s s in the DOD, he had access to research performed by the OSRD, and DARPA, the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency. He had impressed some of the higher-ups in both organizations after helping them overcome obstacles with a couple of their projects, including the Gravity Surfing technology. Since then, they had allowed him access to some classified and discontinued research. At the same time, they worked through the massive amount of red tape necessary to grant him a higher clearance level. The basic design for the neural stims came from a failed attempt at direct neural control for piloting bomber drones. That failure had led to an extremely deadly enhanced interrogation tool called the Neurovex. It made the unfortunate recipient feel as though every nerve was quite literally on fire without causing any physical damage whatsoever. Unfortunately, it had led to several deaths due to improperly designed failsafe devices. Brick had copied the plans for the Neurovex without informing the hierarchy but refused to help them repair it because he would not sanction torture devices. However, he had modified it to use as the basis for the direct neural stimulation aspect of his AR machine. “I knew you were a master mechanical engineer, but I had no idea you were that advanced, love. Does it work?” “As far as I can tell, it does. I need to tweak it a bit, and I need a partner to test the two-way neural transmission...” “I’m all in,” Sandra interrupted before he could finish, “Until then, this moment will have to fuel my battery-operated fantasies.”

“Yours and mine both, Sandra.” “Call me Andra in private, Brick.” After a couple of days, Brick gave Andra the surprisingly compact AR module and showed her how to use it. His Augmented Reality system used neither the Internet nor Cloud technology. They would be safe from scrutiny since his invention was virtually unhackable. It used a section of the electromagnetic spectrum that was typically only functional for deep earth resonance mapping. Brick had improved that design as well. ❖

*****

❖ Nearly two months later, their virtual affair continued to thrive. One of their planned rendezvous was that night. That had been the reason for the smile Tish had seen. He’d have to tell Andra about it so they could be more careful. He had five hours to get home and prepare, but first, what would he do about Tish? “Dude, seriously? You did not just fade out on me, did you, Brick?” She crossed her arms and raised her left eyebrow, “I’m waiting for your answer. Did you sleep with the professor?” Tish stood there, tapping her foot, eyes blazing. She had caught him so flat-footed that he could think of only one word — Shit!

Chapter Six

Messy

Brick needed to do something to cover the reddening he knew had begun to creep across his face. The word distraction burst into his mind. He started violently coughing as though he were choking. Tish asked if he was okay. Brick nodded and thrust out his hand, keeping her at a distance. Then he bent over, placing his hands on his knees while he hacked and sputtered, watering the concrete floor with gobbets of spittle. After a few seconds, he took a few ragged breaths and choked out an answer. He told her that he was just choking on his own spit. It happened to him from time to time. He coughed for a couple more minutes and pretended to try and clear his throat. The workshop had a kitchenette, and Tish poured him a glass of water which Brick accepted with feigned gratitude, drinking it at his leisure. “Thanks for the water. It helped.” “Are you okay?” “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” “Good. So? Did you?” “Did I what?” “Ya know, Professor Brennan?” “Back to that again?” “Yah.” “Persistent much?”

“Not working, Brick. I let you do it before. but not this time.” “Why does it matter so much?” “I don’t know. I’m just going with my gut, now fess up.” “Why would you think she’d sleep with me?” “Why you dodgin’? Got something to hide?” “Everyone has something to hide. I’m sure you do too.” Tish crossed her arms again. He thought that maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned his opinion about her lack of curiosity. He was currently suffering the fallout from his revelation. Tish seemed determined to prove him wrong. Still, he couldn’t be disappointed at her ability to adapt. He was, without a doubt, all about her after all. Brick decided that he wouldn’t get away with not answering, so he told Tish the literal if not figurative truth with a skosh of evasion on the side. But, of course, he had to tell her his side of the same truth both he and Andra would use if anyone ever caught them. “Do you really think I’d turn her down if she offered? That would be insane. Anyway, why would she be interested in a geek like me? I was even too dumb to her class without tutoring. Also, there are plenty of pretty boy undergrads for her to choose from. Why in the hell would the supermodel scientist choose the wimpy pacifist nerd-freak?” “It’s not always about looks, Brick. Sometimes it’s about the way they make you feel. I’d take a guy who made me feel special over good looks any day.” Tish’s voice softened a bit, and the piercing gaze she had previously directed at him melted just before her eyes slowly turned away. “Is that what Brantley did for you?” “What? Oh God, no! Look, the only guy who ever even came close was...,” she stopped in mid-sentence as her gaze floated back up to him, “...look. Let’s just forget the whole thing. Sorry I brought it up.”

Tish turned and stalked off, shoulders squared, toward an office-style desk framed by file cabinets in one corner of the workshop, beckoning Brick to follow. She plopped into a chair behind the desk. Another moment averted. Brick thought. Don’t know how long I can keep up the campaign of evasion. She’s way too savvy and will eventually put things together. Maybe it’s not such a good idea for us to partner up. Tish will probably figure out the thing with Andra, not to mention who I really am.

Deep down inside, Brick knew that the chances of him walking away from this one opportunity to win Tish’s heart were slimmer than those of a microsingularity developing inside his brain. So, he pulled up a stool, and they got down to business. They needed to figure out what they were going to build. Each bantered ideas back and forth for an hour before Brick told her about a personal project he’d been working on. He had been looking for a way to use molten metal in a 3D printer but had gotten stuck with the coding necessary to control the temperature at the printing nodes. The subject of coding piqued Tish’s interest. It was her specialty. She asked if he had built a prototype yet. Brick had, but because of the temperature regulation problem, it didn’t work properly. He pulled up his design specs and notes on her dad’s computer at her request. It took a few more hours, but by the time they finished, they had a working plan for a device based on Brick’s original idea, just expanded to something that was possibly marketable to the public. If they could make it work, the device would take unwanted metal items like tools or jewelry, melt them down and print them into something new. The long name would be The Metal Recycling 3D Printer. They shortened it to Re-D Printer. With the preliminaries complete, Brick looked at his watch. It was already seven in the evening, and he was late for his date with Andra. “So I have an idea on how we should start, Brick.” Tish’s eyes were bright as she sat upright in the chair, leaning forward, and focused on him.

“Tish, I really need to go. I’m already late for dinner.” It was the truth, sort of. His family usually sat for dinner at around 6 pm, if everyone was in town. At the moment, however, his dad wasn’t, and his sister was out on a date with her latest love interest, Katja Anderson. Perhaps love interest was a bit of a stretch when it came to his sister’s proclivities. Sex toy would be a better description. Mara had never been known for her long-lasting relationships. Brick had never really understood the meaning of someone looking deflated until that very moment. Tish’s face, her shoulders, her entire body fell. It even looked like the chair she was sitting in dropped two inches. He had effed this one up, big time. “Oh. All right, Brick. I guess I’ll take you home,” she said in a flat, listless tone. Tish stood up in slow motion, the air felt heavy, and it seemed as though the temperature had dropped ten degrees. Why would she be sad at getting rid of him? Brick was really getting confused at the mixed signals coming from Tish. He’d always been a bit slow on the uptake when it came to women despite everything his sister had taught him. He didn’t know what Tish’s response meant, but he knew it had been a direct result of his wanting to leave. What are you doing, Brick? Like in the old cartoons, Brick heard the voice in his head and imagined it coming from one of the tiny Bricks sitting on his shoulders—one with horns and the other with wings and a halo. This time, though, he wasn’t sure which one was speaking to him. “Tish, you know...” But Andra! “...I’m already late.” Dude, seriously? It’s ANDRA. “I guess...”

This is gonna get messy, Brick! “...another hour or two won’t matter.” Yeah, real frigging messy. Tish’s whole body transformed, and Brick saw what turning the frown upsidedown meant. The smile she beamed warmed nearly every part of him, except for the section of his mind trying to figure out how to explain to Andra what had happened. That part was a lot smaller than he thought it would be. “You mean it? You’ll stay?” “Sure, why not. What’s this idea you have.” Most of what Tish talked about was simply procedural, an orderly progression of micro-projects and how they would fit into the whole. Before she really got started, Brick told her he had to send a text to explain why he was running late. He didn’t tell her to whom he was sending the text, and, thankfully, she never asked. It kept him from actually lying to her. It may have come from an overabundance of caution, but Brick had bought several burner phones for his supermodel scientist so their communications would be at least somewhat difficult to track. He texted that he’d gotten hung up talking over details of the project with Tish but should finish in a couple of hours. He also told her what they had planned as a project, hoping that it would take the professor’s mind off the fact that he’d ditched on her for the first time since they had started their virtual affair. Andra was disappointed, but she understood. She’d stay up until 10 pm, but if he hadn’t ed her by then, she would go to sleep. They could reschedule for the next day. She seemed to understand, but it was hard to tell how she truly felt via text message. Though he and Tish had a good conversation on how they would proceed with the project, Brick kept looking at his watch but only when Tish wasn’t looking at him. The whole time she’d seemed very excited about what they might accomplish. She’d even talked about applying for a patent, going into business together, and inventing even more marketable products. In just a few hours, their relationship had evolved from a tenuous, fleeting one-project-stand to what might be a long-

lasting, permanent partnership. Maybe even a friendship, perhaps even more. Then Brick’s mind dredged up Sandra Brennan, and everything melted into a pool of indecision and chaos. At 8:30 pm, Tish, the primary driver of their discussion, seemed to be winding down. Brick didn’t have much more to add, his mind tediously counting the minutes. When 8:45 came around, Tish itted that she was ready to call it a night. Brick collected his things and even opened the workshop door for Tish, acting the gentleman. When they approached her car, Brick quickly scanned the immediate area as well as the perimeter just in case Bran decided to try something stupid. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, though. He still walked Tish to her side of the car and opened the door for her, glancing inside to ensure no one was hiding on the floor in the back. No one has ever died from an overabundance of caution. Brick’s sister had impressed that on him from the moment she had begun his training. Tish didn’t seem to notice what he was doing and thanked him for being such a gentleman. She filled the thirty-minute drive home with a brief history of her life and hopes for the future. They would be working closely together, and Tish wanted him to know who she was and what she was about. The next day would be his turn. After classes, they would make a list of the equipment they would need and the best places to find all of it so that the day would be shorter. Tish told Brick that she would take him out for dinner after they finished before driving him home. Apparently, he didn’t have a choice in the matter. He found that he was okay with it. He was less OK with the fact that he was getting well and soundly stuck in between his dream girl and the girl of his dreams. Brick had never in a million years dared to think that they would be two different women. “Good night, Tish. Thanks for the ride. See you tomorrow. 10 am, right?” “Right. Night Brick. Thanks for what you did with Bran today. I owe you.” “No, you don’t.” “Yah, I do. It meant a lot to me. You let me peek behind the curtain, and you didn’t have to do that. So I owe you, okay.” “Okay. Later.” Brick shrugged nonchalantly, closed the door, and watched for a few seconds as she drove down the street and rounded the corner.

Brick needed to talk to his sister, but he knew what her first response would be. She would laugh her ass off at the predicament he’d gotten himself into. Then she’d give him a ration of shit for getting so involved with not just one but two women, then even more for being stupid enough to be in the situation where both women knew each other. Then and only then would she give him advice. That advice would be to follow his head. Use logic to figure out the right thing to do—the path that would offer the least resistance, the greatest gain, and the best chance for them to bring down the organization that had caused the changes in all of them, as well as the death of their mother. Everything was always about the organization. The old adage of following your heart had never been a part of Brick’s training or upbringing. Both his dad and his sister considered emotional attachment a weakness. Anything that clouded the mind hindered their plans to eradicate the organization that had destroyed their lives. Brick was torn between his family’s obsession and his desire to find his own path. He wasn’t so sure that their advice about never following the heart was the right path. Sure, he would work with his dad and sis to take down the organization, but he would do it because they had taken his mother away from him before he’d even had a chance to know her. He had just one memory of her, but it set in his mind so firmly he would never forget it. His mother had smelled of raspberries. To Brick, losing her was a matter of the heart, not the head, and his heart would continue to drive him to that end. He turned to walk up the short path to his house. Behind him, a familiar voice pierced the dark. “Where you going, freak?” Shit. Some covert operative I am, letting a bunch of idiots catch me off guard. Now that his senses were functioning again, he knew that Brantley and five of his posse exited the bushes on the opposite side of the street and walked toward him. They reeked of alcohol and wielded a various assortment of blunt weapons. He could see exceptionally well in the dark and noticed that the posse carried their cudgels like they had no idea how to use them, and they moved as though their feet slogged through molasses. Brick scanned the street to his left and his right. There was no one in sight, no one to see what was about to go down. Brick cracked a smile that went nowhere near his eyes. “Bran. I see you couldn’t wait. Kind of cold out here to be hiding in the bushes, ain’t it? I must’ve really pissed you off.”

“Yeah, and now we’re gonna piss on you, fucking nerd-freak.” “Not tonight, Bran. Walk away, and none of you get hurt.” The six of them laughed. “Whatcha gonna do, call the cops? Cry for your mommy? Oh, that’s right, your mom’s fucking dead!” They all laughed again, stopping about three feet from Brick in a semi-circle around him. Brick didn’t say another word. Three seconds later, the five of Bran’s posse were on the ground moaning in agony from the wounds Brick had inflicted on them with their own weapons, leaving Bran untouched. He stood nearly nose-to-nose with the wide-eyed and whimpering Brantley. “Wh-what the fuck just happened? What the hell are you?” “Talk about my mother again, and I’ll shove my foot so far up your ass that you’ll be clipping my toenails with your teeth.” Brick’s fist traveled no more than six inches before he buried it in Bran’s abdomen. He then stepped back three paces for what came next. The stench of stale alcohol and stomach acid burned his nostrils as he leaned forward. “Bran, It’s a damn shame you won’t what happened tonight, but maybe this will imprint on your subconscious. If you come near Tish or me again, you’ll find out exactly what I am and what I can do.” Brick fired a roundhouse back fist at Brantley’s jaw. He dropped to the ground, his head landing in the lap of one of his cronies. Brick pulled out his phone, took a picture, and then turned to face his sister, who stood a few paces behind him. He’d heard her walk up after he dealt with the posse. “Neat, clean, relatively silent, and you barely used your hyper-speed. You have done well, Padawan Asshole. Friends of yours, Lil bro?” “You could say that. You bring the Rohypnol? And I got your Padawan, you frigging hag.” Marble ‘Mara’ Redstone chuckled, her white teeth gleaming in contrast to her chocolate mocha skin. She flexed her well-defined muscles as she planted her

fists on her shapely hips. Mara was an attractive, thirty-something woman who shared many facial characteristics with her brother and readily showed off her long, muscular legs in shorts. She also displayed her medium-sized bust in a thin, tight t-shirt despite the cold temperatures in Colorado. The faint aroma drifting from her told Brick precisely what she had been doing that evening. He wondered if Katja was still in the house. “Of course. I laced it with a little Lasix just to give them an extra kick in the head for the morning. Hell, they might even piss themselves. This have to do with your girlfriend?” “She’s not my girlfriend, Mara. She hates me. I got no chance with her.” “Yeah, Lil bro. You keep telling yourself that. Someday you might even believe it. Bring the five-ton around before somebody sticks their head out and sees this mess.” “You got it, sis.” “And I gotcher hag, Lil punk-ass negro.” Brick grinned at her and stuck out his tongue, then trotted around the side of the house to retrieve the surprisingly quiet electric truck. He already knew where he wanted to dump Bran and his posse, but he’d let Mara decide whether or not to leave their clothes on or arrange them in compromising positions.

Chapter Seven

Conflicted

Tish took a break from writing code for the master control program on their nearly finished project. She flexed her fingers and arched her back, feeling several vertebrae pop. She looked to her left, hoping to catch Brick iring her breasts as they rose magnificently in response to her stretch, but he toiled slavishly over their invention. It had been two and a half months since that first kiss, and he had rigidly stuck to their deal, somewhat disappointingly. Tish was very conflicted regarding her feelings for him. Brick had turned out to be a much different person than she had initially thought. She had always known he was brilliant as well as a skilled engineer, but she’d had no idea just how imaginative and innovative he indeed was. In the short time they had worked on their project, he had created, literally from spare parts, a miniature, electromagnetic, or EM bottle, EM transfer tube, and EM printing nodes for their Re-D printer. In addition, based on an idea of hers, he’d fashioned a method of melting down the object to be recycled using a micro-sized, low-speed particle accelerator the two of them had designed together. The cyclotron only worked with metal, but Brick was confident he could come up with some ideas to convert the device to use with any non-metallic substance as well. His mastery of the art of creation was not the first thing that attracted her. Their first kiss had started a chain of emotions that just kept building, and Tish had learned so much more about Brick during their time together. Since they had begun their project, they had spent at least four hours working on it every day after school. On the weekends, they would work eight to ten hours each day, and Brick spent the night in the guest house most of those weekends. Her parents treated him like one of the family and after six weeks, Brick even started calling them Mom and Pops. No matter how hard she fought against it, Tish’s feelings for him grew, especially after they began sparring. The person she had always thought of as a wimpy, pacifist nerd-freak was a very skilled fighter.

❖

*****

❖ Tish had been in a playful mood a few weeks before, so while Brick had appeared to be deeply involved in crafting one of the acceleration nodes for the cyclotron, Tish had snuck up behind him, intending to tickle him. She didn’t know if he was ticklish. She just wanted to play. As soon as she touched him, Brick moved with blinding speed. His right hand was only a blur as it snatched hers from his ribs and twisted it into a wrist-lock. He stood and turned toward her, an apology apparent in his eyes. Though shocked, she countered his move, spinning in the direction of the twist, grabbed his wrist, and tried to bend his arm behind his back. Brick used his index and middle fingers to strike what must have been a nerve in between the second and third metacarpal. The shock ran up her arm, weakening her grip, and he slipped out of her grasp. Hoping to catch him off guard, she thrust the same hand forward toward his chest, the heel of her palm out. Moving faster than anyone she’d ever seen, Brick twisted to the side, evaded the strike, grabbed her wrist, and twisted it to her right, forcing her to spin with it or risk dislocating her shoulder. Tish didn’t fight the move but used it, forcing him to follow her spin or lose his grip. Once more in control, she launched a knee at his exposed rib cage, but Brick blocked it with his free hand, twisted her arm to the right again, then pulled her toward him as he backed away, forcing her into another spin, but this time pulling her off balance. He stopped her when she was bent over backward, her arm over her head, teetering on the edge of falling, and entirely under his control. “Tapping out Brick! You got me.” Brick placed his free arm under Tish and helped her stand up straight. “I expected an overhead kick or reverse butterfly kick into a back somersault. You’ve got the flexibility and the skill.”

“Wouldn’t have done any good. You would’ve just blocked it. This wasn’t a life or death sitch, so I figured it’d just be a waste of time and energy. “Good point. You’ve got some serious skills, Tish. You don’t move at all like a big girl.” Tish smiled at the compliment. She had always known that Brick ired her body style. He was one of those guys who liked his women thick. “And you don’t react like a pacifist, wimpy nerd-freak, Brick. You can fight. Show me that move with the hand-strike. I didn’t know there was a nerve there.” “I just got lucky. I don’t know what you’re talking about, Tish.” “Don’t bullshit me, Brick. I know you a lot better than I used to.” Brick sighed, lowered his head, and slumped his shoulders. Short seconds later, he shook his head as though he’d made up his mind about something. Then he stood up straight, shoulders back, almost at attention. His entire demeanor changed. She imagined she could feel strength and confidence radiate from him. Tish realized that she had gotten her first glimpse of the real Mason Redstone. “This is one reason I don’t get close to people. I’m an open book to anyone who really knows me. Yes, I can fight.” “Who taught you?” “My father, until I sured him, then I spent some time in a monastery in the Sierra Nevada’s called Nil Parity, and after that, my sister.” “That explains it” “What?” “Why you’re always saying that your sister hits harder than Bran and his posse.” Tish wanted to see how good he really was. She’d also been trained by her father, and when she’d gotten too good for him, he’d hired Krav Maga masters to continue her training. In addition, she’d trained in the Brazilian martial art, Capoeira, and acrobatics as well. Tish all but dragged Brick to the expansive,

climate-controlled, five-car garage, which happened to house a gym with a padded blue floor and assorted workout equipment for strength, martial, and flexibility training. It was all in the last two car stalls. The place smelled like sweat mixed with motor oil and a dash of hydraulic fluid, so she turned on an exhaust fan to clear out some of the stink. Tish told him that there was a shooting range underneath the garage as well. Brick was good—a lot better than she was, and she was sure he was holding back. Why would he let a bunch of jackasses beat on him when he had such advanced fighting skills? He could be running the damn school. No one would dare to challenge him. Everyone would know who he was, and the ladies would be hanging all over him. Tish caught herself there, knowing that she would likely have been one of those ladies. She didn’t understand, so she asked him after they finished sparring. “Because it’s not who I am, Tish. I don’t need adoration and don’t want the attention it would bring. I like staying as far under the radar as possible.” “Did you ever think... I’m not trying to break our deal, okay, but I have to know.” “Of course, I thought about how it would change the way you thought about me, Tish, but I’m not that guy. I won’t be who I’m not just to impress someone— even someone I have feelings for.” She noted how they had started finishing each other’s sentences or answering questions only half-asked as he’d just done. Was this thing getting serious between them? “You’re making it really hard to keep hating you, Brick.” “Don’t worry. Just wait till you really get to know me. I can be quite the asshole. Just ask my sister, she pretty much raised me, and I pretty much grew up thinking that asshole was my first name.” He’d said it with such a straight face that Tish wasn’t sure whether or not he’d been joking, but she chuckled anyway just in case. ❖

*****

❖ After that day, they sparred at least twice a week, usually three times. Brick turned out to be a better instructor than the ones her dad had hired. Her skill grew over time at the same rate as her feelings for the man she once despised. He began to reveal more and more of his true self after that day, tearing off the layers one-by-one, but Tish had the feeling that she’d never truly know everything about him. It always seemed as though he held back. Every time their conversation turned to the company his father and sister owned, Brick would clam up or change the topic to something else. She decided to try to get him to open up about another issue she’d been curious about. So one day, after a somewhat intimate sparring session where they had worked on grappling maneuvers, she felt comfortable and frankly aroused enough to ask. “Are you ready to tell me who she was?” Brick’s whole body went rigid. “Tell you who who was?” “Your last good kiss.” His body relaxed, but only slightly. When he glared at her, Brick’s eyebrows were nearly touching, and Tish saw pain etched on his face—pain and something else. What am I seeing? Is it guilt, maybe? She wasn’t sure, but perhaps she was onto something. He turned away and spoke. “I guess there must be something to that knowing someone if you fight them, thing.” “Or kiss them?” Tish didn’t know why she had brought that up. Yes, you do, girl. Stop denying it. Brick’s eyes met hers briefly, but the curve of his lips never even approached a

smile, “Yeah, that too.” His voice was different. He sounded tired—no, not tired. He sounded weary, weary, and sad, almost tortured. He collapsed onto the padded floor of the training room. Tish sat directly in front of him. Both crossed their legs, Native American style. Brick told her a brief but tragic story. He’d been in love with a girl named Kaylen in high school in some other city his family had lived in and had offered her a promise ring just before their summer break. She didn’t say no to him but did tell him that it was a big decision, that she needed time to think about it, and she’d let him know after she and her family got back from vacation. Brick had taken it as a rejection. Later that day, he’d seen his girlfriend laughing and joking with another guy and had gotten jealous. Instead of talking to her about his feelings, he decided to get back at her. Kaylen always let him know when she returned from vacation and would come over to his house so they could have some alone time to renew their relationship. Brick’s gorgeous cousin, Hannah, happened to be in town at the time. The two of them were very close and had joked that they would be a couple if they weren’t first cousins. He invited Hannah over for a visit and snuggled up with her on the front porch swing. Kaylen had never met his cousin and found the two of them cuddling on the swing. As soon as Brick saw the pain in her eyes and his promise ring on her finger, he knew he had effed up. Kaylen ran back to her car and sped off. A block from her house, she lost control of the vehicle. She died in the accident. Hannah never forgave him for using her. In one day, he had lost two people he loved most in the world. In his mind, though, he hadn’t lost anyone. He had killed one and had driven the other away. “God, Brick. I’m so sorry.” “Thanks. That’s the other reason I don’t get close to people.” “What do you mean?” “I’ve been in love twice before, and I killed them both with decisions I made

with my head instead of listening to my heart.” Tish, stunned at his confession, found no words to offer, choosing silence over a verbal misstep. She reached a hand out in an attempt to comfort him, but he moved out of reach. Her heart felt for him as the guilt and shame drew lines across his forehead and at the corners of his squinted, tear-filled eyes. “Told you once you got to know me, you’d see how much of an asshole I am.” Brick stood up in one, smooth motion and walked out of the garage. ❖

*****

❖ When he’d exited the training room that day two weeks before, Tish hadn’t been sure whether or not she’d see Brick again. The chasm that thought opened in her heart shocked her, and Tish’s heart pounded, threatening to burst from her chest. The next day she found him waiting at her car. Brick had skipped school, and red-rimmed eyes told the story of how he had ed the time. Brick apologized for just walking out on her, then opened the enger door and slid in. When she first saw him, Tish squashed the urge to leap into his arms. The pressure that had encircled her heart vanished, and her stomach finally stopped its hours-long gymnastics routine. She didn’t know that such strong emotions could sneak up on you like that. Tish had never really been in love before and wasn’t even sure that she was capable of strong emotions at all. No one else had stirred such feelings in her. Upon seeing him, doubt fled her mind and heart. At the very least, she needed Brick to stay in her life; at most, she was in love with him. Tish sat behind the wheel, and the two of them drove home in comfortable silence. She felt no urge to begin a conversation. Out of the corner of her eye, Tish spied Brick looking at her; a half-smile pasted on his lips. Warmth spread

through her body, and somehow she knew they would be okay. When they arrived at the workshop, Tish and Brick went back to work and never spoke of it again. Their relationship settled into a new normal. There they were, still working together on their grand project, with Tish’s growing feelings for Brick fueling her confusion. They would finish their device in a few weeks, two months at the most. Then their class partnership would be over. It looked as though their machine would be marketable. Sure, they might be business partners, but that might not be enough for her—not anymore. One reason she had asked him about his last, best kiss was that Tish wanted to know what kind of competition she faced. Little did she know that she would be up against two ghosts and an Olympus Mons of guilt, the emotion she had not recognized in his face until after he finished his story. The other reason, and the main one, was that their grappling session that day had been intense, intimate, and erotic. She’d finally beaten Brick, ending up on top, straddling him, and pinning him to the floor, face inches from his. She’d felt his erection pressing against her. A small part of her mind wondered if he could feel her throbbing down there as well or if he noticed her nipples stretching the thin fabric of her workout gear. She’d been out of breath, and it hadn’t all been from the exertion of their sparring match. She’d wanted to kiss him but instead stood up and extended a hand to help him stand. If she hadn’t asked that question about the kiss at that moment, she probably would have jumped his bones right then and there. Part of her wished she had. That moment had seemed like a turning point for both of them. As the days ed, Brick grew closer to her, and she to him. Before, he’d turned down every invitation to her family’s scifi movie night but had finally accepted for the one coming up on the following Friday. Tish was happy about that, but it posed a bit of a dilemma. Should she tell him about her growing feelings for him, or would he take that as using his emotions against him, breaking their deal? What would he do if he thought that? Would he just walk away, or would he give her a chance to explain? It was easy to figure out most guys, but Brick was the most complex person she’d ever known, and it was all at once incomprehensible, infuriating, intoxicating, and irresistible. She ed how she had teased him when he had used four ‘I’ words to describe his feelings for her.

With so much doubt and confusion coursing through her mind, clouding her judgment, she decided it would be best to travel the safe route, to keep things as they were. Once they finished the project and fulfilled the deal, she could safely talk to Brick about how she felt. Until then, she would show her feelings for him in subtle, non-threatening ways that wouldn’t break their deal or drive him away. Tish hadn’t realized that she’d been staring at Brick the whole time her mind had strolled through the past. He looked up from his work, stretched, and turned around, catching her staring. She didn’t look away this time. He beamed a broad smile at her. “What? Was I snoring or something? Do I have a booger hanging out of my nose?” “No, nothing like that, silly,” she answered, barking a short guffaw at the dumb joke. “Then what, or do I want to know? Planning on the best way to slide a dagger in between my ribs now that I’ve shown you where to strike?” “Brick,” she replied softly, “I would never do anything to hurt you. Not now that I’ve gotten to know you better.” “Whoa. It almost sounds like you actually like me.” Tish fired what she thought would be a sarcastic smile at him, though she realized that she didn’t feel the right amount of snark to pull it off convincingly. And maybe that’s okay, she thought. This might be an excellent time to toss some hints his way. “Stranger things have happened, Brick. They say that time heals all wounds.” “They also say that distance makes the heart grow fonder, and we’ve spent a grip of time together lately.” “Absence.” “Huh?” “Absence, not distance, and not all of the old proverbs fit every situation.”

Tish rolled her head from left to right and sighed, trying to ease a slight pain in her neck. “Would you mind massaging my neck and shoulders for me, please?” “Uh, isn’t that against our deal?” “Only if you ask me. I’m the one doing the asking. So. Will you?” “Of course.” “Just don’t let your hands ‘accidentally’ slip. I don’t need a breast exam, all right?” “No problem, Tish. I’m not gonna mess up what we have.” Did I hear what I thought I just heard or is it just wishful thinking? Does he sense that my feelings for him are changing, or is he just letting me know that his haven’t changed? She closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip to stifle a moan as Brick’s hands gently but firmly eased the tension from her neck and shoulder muscles. Oh, God. Such amazing hands; gentle, strong, and firm. It feels so wonderful. Four minutes into the massage, and she was about ready to fall into his arms. Tish sat upright suddenly and asked him to stop, thanking him for the incredible massage. He complied. If he hadn’t, she probably wouldn’t have objected to and may have even encouraged that breast exam. She turned her chair around to face him. “Brick, I wasn’t thinking. I mean, does it bother you to touch me like that feeling the way you do?” “Are you kidding? That was the bright spot of my entire week,” Brick responded as a devilish grin creased his face, then vanished, “I’m fine, Tish. I’ll provide all of the massages you want, on-demand, no problem. I’m good at keeping my emotions in check around you.” “I mean, neither of us is in a relationship, and you know how it can be when you

work closely with someone.” “To be honest, I was in a relationship, but I broke up with her two weeks ago after I told you about—you know.” “Oh. You never said anything. Who was she? Did it happen because of our project and all the time we spend together?” “It doesn’t matter anymore, Tish. I know who I am and who I want to be with, and as amazing as she is, it isn’t her. I never hid anything, but she agreed to take a chance on me anyway. She didn’t deserve to be hurt, but I thought it was better to end it before she became even more invested in me. I didn’t want....” Brick trailed off without finishing his sentence. “You didn’t want her to be in the same situation as you are with me.” “Right.” “You’re not an asshole, Brick,” Tish put her hand on his arm, “We all make bad decisions, but very few of us have the wisdom to recognize them, and even fewer have the courage to correct them. You’re a good man.” And I should tell him how I’ve been feeling right this instant, but for all the time I thought he was a coward, I find that I’m the one who’s afraid. “We’d better get back to work,” she said flatly. Tish swung the chair back around and began pounding out code on the keyboard, punishing it out of frustration at her own weakness.

Chapter Eight

Plan B

We need to talk. Brick’s words burned into Professor Brennan’s memory. That phrase had been used in countless movies and almost always portended doom for a relationship. When he had shown up on her front porch two weeks before, she’d been happy to see him. Their virtual sessions were satisfying, but they only went so far, and she could feel him gradually slipping away from her. She knew he wasn’t in love with her any more than she was with him, but Sandra also knew that they could have been happy together. They would have been a power couple in the science community and could have done great things together. History teemed with those who remained a couple because of the power and influence they wielded. With her as his guide, she was sure Brick would have unlocked the keys to the universe someday. She believed he would eventually be capable of accessing the nearly mythical Akashic Field. She had discovered his potential, and she should be with him when he finally realized it. The night he broke up with her, Sandra had decided to evolve their relationship from virtual to physical to endear him to her more solidly and damn the consequences at the University. She wasn’t entirely sure it would work, but it would have been worth a try. Brick’s decision had made it all moot, though. When he didn’t call her Andra, she had tuned out nearly everything else he said as irrelevant. Funny how one single letter could speak such volumes. She had always known there would be a chance to lose him, working so closely with Latisha, but she had hoped. At first, Sandra thought that the girl had finally given it up to Brick, but she hadn’t. He just wanted to let her down before she had a chance to become anymore invested in him. Fucking noble bastard. Sandra couldn’t stay mad at him. At least he’d had the courage to face her,

unlike the men before him who had dumped her by text. Now that they were over, the only way she would have access to Brick and his beautiful mind would be through Zindriya. Sandra sat in front of her holoscreen, entered a code for secure access then dialed Zindriya. Her twin answered as though she’d been expecting the call. “You were right. He chose her over me.” “For what it’s worth, dear sister, I am sorry.” “I really did care for him, Driya.” “So we’re back to Plan B.” “Right. What do you need from me?” “Glad to have you on board. Tell me everything about your virtual encounters.” “You know about that? Brick said it was unhackable.” “It is unless you have access to one of the modules. I planted a cloning device on yours.” “You were spying on us,” Sandra paused and furrowed her eyebrows, “you were spying on me. You wanted leverage in case I wouldn’t help you with Brick.” “Of course. I needed to make sure you wouldn’t run off with my prize asset. I suspected something when your sessions ended two weeks ago.” “You’re a real....” “Watch it, sister. never to call me the B-word.” “I was going to say piece of work, Driya,” She paused, “I want her dead.” “Who?” “You know who the fuck I’m talking about. Kill her for me.” “Such language, and from a college professor no less.” Zindriya’s flippant tone

made Sandra want to strangle her. “Yeah, well, we’re people too.” “No. Latisha has to live for now. If my method fails, I will need her as leverage.” ❖

*****

❖ Seeing her sister’s beautiful face contorted into the mask of rage that now floated in the holoscreen filled Zindriya with a foreign emotion, familial affection. It was the first time she’d truly felt that she shared something with Sandra, and it was fitting that it was the thing that had driven herself most of her own life— rage. “Will this be a problem, sister?” “No. Not as long as I get him after you’re finished, Driya. That was our agreement.” “Then I will kill her, Sandra, to make it easier for you to make him yours.” Zindriya watched her sister’s face relax from pinched, contorted rage to a look of forced complacence. She knew Sandra would be a problem regardless of her answer. Sister or not, with Brick having chosen the girl over her, the good professor had outlived her usefulness. If problems arose, Zindriya would have to eliminate that problem, familial affection aside. Suddenly feeling the need to be somewhere else, she ended the call with Sandra and sent for Venton Smythe. When the mercie walked in, his scruffy, half-bearded chin leading the way, her disgust for the man transformed Zindriya’s face into a sneer. At five-foot-seven,

he was too short for his fourteen and a quarter stones. His broad face, broad body, and shaggy, unkempt black hair made her think of one of the seven dwarves named Quee from the 1912 Broadway play. She thought the name fit him because every time he was near, she felt a bit queasy. Zindriya wondered how many people knew that the dwarves had not been named in the original 1812 Grimm’s fairy tale and had remained unnamed until the Broadway play and then renamed in that outlandishly childish Disney revision. “You called Mistress.” What made it even worse was his nasally, upper baritone voice. He sounded more like a talking foghorn than a human. Zindriya clamped down on the urge to end the creature sitting in front of her. He still had his uses, at least for the moment. “Get the boyfriend ready and deploy him next Friday at the family scifi night. I do not want anyone harmed in any way and take the boy, Brick, alive. Is that understood?” “Yes, Mistress. You can count on me.” Zindriya leaned back in her chair, elbows on the armrests, hands steepled in front of her emotionless face. “I hope so, Venton. My lower dungeon is currently empty. I’m sure you wouldn’t want me to, um, hire you for that vacant position, yes?” She lifted the right corner of her mouth. Venton looked as though he might pee his pants. When he shifted in the chair, Zindriya noticed the faint aroma of stale garlic. She wondered if he wore cloves of it about his neck to ward her off, as though she were a vampire. “Understood, Mistress.” “Dismissed, Quee.” “Mistress?” “Get out!” Venton all but flew from the chair and out the door, leaving Zindriya with a

parting whiff of garlic and piss. She pulled a can of air freshener from her drawer and chased away the foul scent. She called in one of her regular soldiers. Bruno was the name she had given him, not bothering to take the time to his actual name. They all worked for her, so Zindriya would call them whatever she wished. Bruno entered and stood at attention. Bruno she liked. He was tall, bald, big-boned, and fit. He was also hung like a donkey and didn’t mind a little pain with pleasure. He wasn’t the prettiest thing to look at, but he had satisfied her needs on several occasions. He still wore a few healing bites and scratches from their last encounter the week before. And for all the looks of a brute, he was, surprisingly, quite intelligent, competent, and efficient. “We shall have a guest soon, Bruno, perhaps two, maybe even three. Is everything prepared?” “Yes, Zindriya. I’ve prepared everything according to your specifications, in both the upper and lower chambers. The possible third, upper or lower chambers?” “Lower, I think. Prepare one of both just to be sure.” “As you wish.” Bruno didn’t cringe in her presence. She liked that he didn’t fear her as much as the others in her crew, yet he still respected her. Zindriya felt energized now that the waiting was over. She would have Brick in her clutches in a little over a week, and she could start programming him with pain, then pleasure. Bruno would supply the pain, and she would ease his pains with sex. She’d used the technique before and had been quite successful with it where full-on brutality and torture produced nothing but crap intel. When you tortured someone, they only told you whatever was necessary to stop the pain. Zindriya thought of Babel and his final, blood-chilling prophecy. It hadn’t sounded like his usual ramblings. Maybe she should have written it down because, for the moment, the exact words escaped her. “Anything else you need, Zindriya?”

She had forgotten Bruno was still there and dismissed him. After he left, her mind drifted back to that moment just before she ended Babel. The prophecy went something like this: When the lover becomes the liar, the eagle will strike, And your silver tongue will drown you in the Red Sea. Zindriya scribbled it down on her notepad. For some reason, chills ran up and down her spine as she wrote the words into her memory. No matter how much she told herself that they were just the ramblings of an insane man teetering on the ragged edge of death, her blood still ran cold. Something about it felt far too real. ❖

*****

❖ After the holocall ended, Sandra had a feeling that she was going to get cut out of the whole deal with Brick. Maybe it was time for her to start making plans of her own. Where would she begin, though? She didn’t have the underworld connections that Zindriya did, nor did she think the same way. Her genius leaned toward science, not criminality. Though navigating through a world dominated by fragile men with fragile egos had honed her negotiating skills. How would she go about creating her own syndicate? Would she even need one? Could she deploy the same type of power her sister did, or should she try to use her cunning to keep herself relevant in Zindriya’s eyes? The only other choice was to stay out of the whole thing and wait for Brick to outlive his usefulness to Zindriya if he ever did. Sandra had to it that she was still attracted to the younger man more than she had been to anyone in a long time. He had proven to be generous and inventive sexually, which she had enjoyed immensely, even if virtual, but his mind was what had always attracted her the most. Brick had a unique way of looking at both the macro and the micro

universes, math and technology-related issues, and, most importantly, the Quantum Field. He could see past obstacles like no one she’d ever met. Take those ‘unsolvable’ equations she had given him during their tutoring sessions. No one had taught him how to do that type of advanced math; he’d just intuited it. It came to him as naturally as flying did to a bird. At least that’s the way he’d explained it when she had asked him where he’d learned the craft. It simply made sense to him that the math should flow as it did. That was why Sandra was sure he would someday open wide the doors to the mysteries of the universe and show everyone that magic truly existed in the form of science and technology. Arthur C. Clarke’s third law told us that if technology were advanced enough, we wouldn’t be able to tell it wasn’t magic. She had begun introducing the unsolvable equations to Brick because of Clarke’s first two laws. Scientists were supposed to seek out the impossible and make it possible, not be blocked by walls erected by others. And there was the answer to her problem, find a way around the wall. Or be the keystone, ready to either the wall or bring it down around her ears. With Brick, Zindriya was the keystone, and her minions were the bricks forming that wall. Sandra would her sister’s syndicate, become an invaluable part of the wall, replace Zindriya as the keystone, and if her twin tried to betray her, she’d collapse the whole damn thing right on her dear sister’s head. Brick would be hers even if she had to take down her own sister to get him. Professor Brennan chuckled at the fact that they shared many of the same traits despite growing up in entirely different environments. Ruthlessness must have run in the family.

Chapter Nine

The Or Something Option

Three weeks had ed since Brick had broken up with Sandra. The Monday after the breakup, he had finally accepted Tish’s open offer to the fam for their classic scifi movie night. Ever since he had agreed to attend the Owusu family event, things between him and Tish had warmed up significantly. She had a spring in her step, she smiled more, cracked on him less, and their talks became more personal. Tish openly discussed her past relationships, what she liked and disliked about the men and women she had dated, and what she looked for in a partner. Brick felt that she offered him a roap to her heart, but part of him sensed that she wasn’t ready to give up on her position regarding him completely. He did feel, however, that maybe he had put a few cracks in that ceiling. Brick had all but completed constructing the Re-D Printer, and on their first few manual test runs, it had performed marvelously. So, the technology worked, but it took an engineer to operate the manual controls. That might win them first prize in the contest, but they also wanted marketability. That part was up to Tish and her skills at coding. Brick had watched Tish slave over the coding for the control program for the last few weeks. He wished his skill with coding could have even been a fraction of her level, but it wasn’t. He kept himself busy by fine-tuning the Re-D unit, adjusting specs, and sketching designs for additional modules to melt and reprint alternative materials. The whole time he held himself back from an increasing desire to wrap his arms around Tish and hold her tight to ease her growing exasperation. During the initial software run three days before, a significant checksum error occurred. Since then, they had both ditched school to focus on their project. It had taken Tish until the current day, a few hours before scifi night, to narrow it

down to one section of code. She had been over that section a hundred times looking for her error, but it remained hidden. Brick watched as her irritation grew exponentially. Four hours before scifi night began, Tish grabbed her wireless keyboard and started to wing it across the room, but Brick had been close enough to snatch it out of her hands. At first, she glared at him, opening her mouth, likely to tear him a new one, then she closed it as her eyes softened and drooped slightly. Irritated Tish was just as attractive as happy or sad Tish. Over the last couple of months, he’d seen just about every manifestation of her persona, and he was utterly and hopelessly hooked on every aspect of the woman, good and bad. “I can’t find it, Brick, and I’m tired of looking. Maybe I should take a break until tomorrow before it really drives me crazy.” She rolled her head in a circle. Brick heard the vertebrae crack. She turned her back to him and pointed at her neck and shoulders. “Would you mind?” The longer Tish worked on the coding, the more she had asked for massages, and Brick had been happy to oblige. The day before, she had leaned into him. It was challenging to continue her massage, but there was no way he would ask her to move. “No prob, Tish.” “Thanks, Brick. You have great hands, and your massages are a-ma-zing.” She moved her long hair out of the way, turned the office chair around, and straddled it, leaning forward onto the backrest, laying her head on her forearms. He began the process of working out the kinks in the tight muscles of her neck and shoulders. “A little lower, please. My middle-back is seriously killing me,” Tish paused, “I know you keep telling me not to slouch. I’m trying.” “You know what Yoda said about trying.” “Yah, Yah. You either do it, or you don’t. No such thing as try.” Brick cringed but squeezed out, “Close enough.”

Tish had taken to wearing loose-fitting shirts and no bra while they were working. The light blue shirt she was wearing had a droopy, wide neck offering him access to a significant amount of skin. “It’s okay to massage under my shirt, Brick. I trust you, and it always feels better when your hands are touching my bod-, uh, my skin.” She pulled her shirt up, tucking the front under her ample bosom. This was the first time Brick had seen so much of her skin at one time, and it was, in a word, stimulating. As his hands worked their magic, Tish made mixed moaning and groaning sounds. He could see a smile spread across the left side of her face as she turned her head to the side. Everyone had a unique scent, but not everyone could distinguish it from all of the other ambient aromas that assailed the senses at any given moment. But, because of his mutation, Brick could identify nearly anyone by their smell. Tish’s base scent was earthy and pleasant, like a meadow of flowers. Even when they sparred, her musk was pleasing, reminding him of bales of hay stored in the loft of a barn. Her aroma summoned pleasant memories of afternoon naps in the hayloft at Nil Parity. As he continued to massage Tish, her scent succumbed ever so slowly and subtly to the musky vanilla aroma he’d noticed three weeks before during their extremely sensual grappling match. He leaned in closer as his hands dug at the base of her spine and tracked upward to her shoulders. Tish’s breathing became a little heavier as his hands moved higher. When he repeatedly caressed her neck with gentle but firm fingers, that musky vanilla scent became sweeter and more intoxicating; nearly irresistible. His breathing grew heavier, and he leaned in closer, responding to her, hands now caressing her back gently inching farther toward the front of her well-toned body. Her hand reached for his, guiding it forward and upward until his fingers brushed her breast, and she whispered, “Brick...I want...” He glanced at the screen at just that moment, and it clicked. Brick jumped up, shattering the mood because his damned mind had located what Tish had been looking for. “Tish! I think I see what’s wrong!” As though she were dragging herself from a trance, Tish stammered, “Wha-

what? What are you talking about?” Brick pulled her shirt down, cursed his brain, and pointed to the code on the screen. “Right there. That section of code. I’m not even gonna pretend to understand what it does, but patterns come naturally to me. That section is inconsistent with the pattern I see all around it. It’s off somehow.” “Holy..., Brick, I think you found it!” She seemed excited and fully engaged after he pointed out the code. “I want your hands on me while I fix this,” she turned away, then turned back, “and next time, if I want to be covered up, I’ll tell you, Mr. Redstone.” Brick slid his hands under her shirt and went back to work on the tense-again muscles while Tish banged away on the keyboard. Ten minutes later, she seemed to be finished and squeezed his hand as he massaged her neck. “Thanks, Brick. Let’s test it out now.” She pulled up one of her checksum programs, ran it, and it came up clear. She ran it a second and third time just to be sure. No problems. Tish made a sound Brick couldn’t even begin to describe, leaped into his arms, wrapped her legs around him, told him he was amazing and kissed him on the lips. She jumped back down quickly, though. He could feel the smile stretch across his face. “Let’s test it on the Re-D now.” Brick changed the interface modules from manual control to automated control, linked it to the computer, then Tish ran a simulation. The first one finished without an error. The second, however, revealed a minor discrepancy. They found some simple measurement errors, adjusted specifications, and the next ten sims worked fine. “We can run sims all night and check the results in the morning.” It had been a long time since Brick had seen Tish so excited. Her exuberance infected him.

“If all goes well, we can try a practical test tomorrow. You’re spending the night in the guest house, yah?” “That’s the plan. So we can get an early start.” “Cool,” Tish looked at her watch, “We have a little over an hour before scifi night begins. Wanna grab a bite — or something?” The smile she beamed at him and the slight hesitation before the or something wasn’t wasted on Brick, but he still wasn’t sure it was the smile. His head told him to play it safe. “I am kinda hungry but aren’t we having hot dogs and popcorn tonight?” “Yah, but I want a snack. Let’s go.” Tish’s smile seemed less provocative than a second before, but she grabbed his hand and almost literally dragged him to the kitchen in the main house. Brick mentally slapped himself for not choosing the or something option. When they got to the kitchen, he pulled on his big boy pants and forged forward. “So, what was the or something option.” “You chose the grab a bite option, so the or something is off the table — for now.” Tish beamed another smile. Lots of smiles over the last few minutes from both of them. Brick still wasn’t entirely sure it was the smile, but it probably was. He felt so hopelessly lost when it came to nuance. He was confident in so many things, but he felt woefully unarmed and inept at deciphering what signals women might be sending. When it came to Tish, well, with her, he was so scared of making the wrong move he chose inaction over action. That’s what his head told him to do. His heart, though, told him otherwise. It had told him to take the or something option, but he had listened to his head instead, unlike when he’d broken up with Sandra. With Tish, however, the head thing still dominated. He guessed that after two decades of propaganda from his father and sister, overcoming that programming would be difficult. It would take a conscious effort, and for Tish, he would make that effort. “When will it be back on the table?”

“Note to Brick. When I offer you an or something, take it. It’s often fleeting and dependent on circumstances. I can’t tell you when, but I can tell you that it’s more likely than not to happen in the very near future.” “That almost sounds like....” Tish interrupted him, “Don’t paste a label on it, don’t quantify it, don’t plug it into an equation math-boy. For once, listen to this,” she placed her hand over his heart, “instead of this,” she touched her fingertip to his forehead. Brick wondered if she could read his mind. At that moment, Tish’s mother, Hiral, swept into the kitchen. Both Brick and Tish greeted her as Mom. “It seems as though I’ve interrupted a moment.” Brick was leaning against a counter, and Tish was well within his personal space. She had placed her hand back over his heart, and she didn’t move away when mom swooped in. “I take it you don’t hate Brick anymore.” “Of course not, mom. We’ve become friends.” This was news to Brick, sort of. He’d sensed changes in her, but he’d not assumed their relationship had progressed that far, at least not openly. “From what I see, close friends.” Mom flashed a grin that brightened her eyes. Tish still didn’t move, and her hand remained in place. Brick stayed silent, totally entranced by the ongoing conversation. “So?” There goes the snark, Brick thought. “You know that your father and I think of Brick as the son we never had. The issue doesn’t lie with us.” And Mom tossed it right back. Gotta stop volcano time.

Tension filled the space between mother and daughter yet again. Brick had to do something. He placed his hand over Tish’s. She looked into his smiling eyes, and the blaze in hers diminished. Keeping his eyes locked onto hers, he asked, “Mom, what help do you need getting the hot dogs ready?” Tish’s eyes conveyed her thanks to him. Hiral started firing orders as Tish whispered, “Too bad Mom’s here, cuz that or something option so just popped back up on the table, big time.” For only the second time in his life, Brick listened to his heart rather than his head. He gently placed his hands on her waist, then kissed Tish on the forehead, surprised that instead of backing away, she leaned into him and hooked the fingers of her free hand through one of his belt loops. After a few seconds, she pulled away and opened her eyes. “I’ve gotta go tinkle.” “That was random. Tinkle? You did not just say that.” A grinning Tish responded, “would you rather I say that I gotta go take a piss? I’m not a guy, I’m a lady, and I tinkle. Get over it.” She glided from the kitchen. “Well played, Brick. I think she’s coming around. She’s not quite ready to it it yet, but she’s close. Latisha is a lot like her father. They cling to old habits until their tattered shreds leave nothing else to hold onto.” Hiral walked around the counter and hugged him. “And you’re more like me. You’re all grit and determination. You don’t give up easily, even when someone tries to push you away, and we have the same weird sense of humor. You truly are like the son I never had, Brick.” “It means a lot, Mom. Thanks.” Brick wrapped his arms around Hiral and squeezed. She was the next best thing to having a real mom, and he had developed genuine feelings for her. And her hugs made him feel all warm and cozy. “Okay, enough of that, you lout. Don’t try and get out of helping with the hot dogs,” Hiral spun Brick around and shoved him in the direction of the grill, “We’re using the indoor grill tonight. No boiling or nuking allowed. You handle the dogs, and I’ll warm the buns.” Something in her voice warned Brick what was coming. Hiral grabbed a towel, twirled it, and snapped him on the rear. Brick grabbed one of his own, balled it up, and threw it at her, and the chase ensued. The woman was death incarnate with the towel snapping, so he grabbed

a ladle from the utensils hanging over the stove to parry her attacks. “Oh-my-God! You two are so much alike. I see why you enjoy having him around, Mom. The hot dogs?” Hiral and Brick, out of breath and still giggling, leaned against each other. “Just having a little fun, Latisha,” she looked up at Brick and hooked a thumb in Tish’s direction, “but old stick in the mud is right. It’s almost time for the movies.” The stick comment pried a snort out of Brick’s nose before he could stop it. He glanced at Tish to gauge her reaction, but she just grinned, rolled her eyes, and shook her head. They got the hot dogs done and all the condiments set up on a table in the family room just in time for the first movie. Amaye had it all queued up and ready to go. Tish asked which movie it was. He had chosen At the Earth’s Core with Doug McClure. It was an adaptation of the Edgar Rice Burroughs’ Pellucidar series. Brick tried to stop it, but the groan forced itself out, refusing to be denied. “Oh, you don’t like the movie, Brick?” “Honestly? It’s entertaining, but only a ing representation of Burroughs’ vision is all.” “Re-e-a-a-ly. I suppose you have a better suggestion?” “Sorry, Pops. Not my place to question.” “Nonsense, Brick. You’re part of this family. You have a say. Spit it out.” He asked them if they had seen a movie called The Green Slime, made in 1968, starring Robert Horton and Richard Jaeckel. None of them had. Not even the classic scifi aficionado, Amaye. Brick gave them a brief synopsis without revealing too much of the movie, and they agreed it was a good choice. He told them it was his second all-time favorite classic scifi. Second only to, and they all said it in unison, The Forbidden Planet, 1956, with an all-star cast led by Leslie Nielsen, Anne Francis, and Walter Pidgeon. Even though released long before The Green Slime, the visual effects were far superior.

“I’m glad you finally ed us, son. Yo-o-u-u are most definitely one of us.” Brick thanked Pops and used his mobile device to cast the movie into their local entertainment network. He settled onto one end of the sectional just before Tish plopped down near him. “I could sit over here — or something.” Yeah. That’s definitely the smile. “I’ll take the or something option.” “Finally, a man who learns from his mistakes. I usually snuggle with my teddy or my parents, but you’re here now.” Once Brick got comfy, Tish lifted his right arm, kind of half-leaned her back against him, curled her legs up on the cushions, and settled his arm around her midriff, her right hand over the top of his. Her left elbow rested lightly on his thigh. Tish took a deep breath then let it out slowly, kind of like people do when they relax after a long day at work or school. The whole thing felt right, as though this was always the way it should have been. Tish interlaced her fingers with his. Mom and pops were on the other end of the L-shaped sectional, snuggled up much like he and Tish were, and they were grinning at him as the movie started.

Chapter Ten

Revealed

When the movie ended, everyone had enjoyed it so much they clapped. Mom, Pops, and Tish urged Brick to choose the next film. He suggested either The Little Shop of Horrors or Way...Way Out. The Owusu family had only ever heard of the 1986 version of LSOH, the one starring Steve Martin. Brick began to doubt Pops’ bonafides regarding classic scifi after that. Maybe Mom had a point. He had his faves and always chose the same set of movies over and over, stubbornly holding on to the ones he was familiar with. The second choice had kind of turned off the Fam since it starred Jerry Lewis, even after Brick explained that it was released in 1966, wasn’t one of his slapstick comedy roles and that Connie Stevens and Anita Ekberg were co-stars. He thought those two actresses might gain him a little from pops because it was Connie-freaking-Stevens and Anita-freaking-Ekberg, for crying out loud, but it was a no-go. They had opted for the original Roger Corman, black comedy from 1960 instead. With the movie choice settled, mom had assigned him and Pops to popcorn duty. They strolled into the kitchen to make more. Brick and Pop’s conversation was firmly entrenched in how much butter to put on popcorn, as a general rule. Pops was of the conservative mind, putting on just enough to give the corn flavor while Brick was the ‘drench it till it floats’ type. They had finished with the popcorn and were about to return to the family when Brick clamped his hand onto Pops’ elbow. “Stop, Pops. Quiet for a minute,” Brick said in a soft voice. Amaye was about to say something, but Brick pressed a finger to his lips and tilted his head to the side.

“Shit. It’s Brantley, and he’s got a gun,” he whispered in Pops’ ear as a startled cry from both women reached them. Amaye’s eyes went wide, and he tried to leave, but Brick’s vise grip on his elbow prevented it. Fortunately, the older man’s military training kicked in. He stopped struggling and glared at Brick, who pulled him away from the portal, toward the back door. They spoke in a hushed urgency. “We’ve got to do something, Brick. Our ladies are in danger.” “You know well enough that if we go charging in there, he’s gonna panic, and someone’s gonna get hurt. We have to be smart about this.” Pops squinted his eyes, and he pressed his lips together until they all but disappeared. “You’re right. If we get out of this alive, Brick, you’ll owe me an explanation.” “Once this is over, I’ll explain everything to all of you. For now, will you do as I ask?” Amaye nodded. Pops was gone, and the Marine Recon emerged. Brick would be the decoy. Amaye balked because he felt he would be better for that, but Brick held firm. Bran didn’t see him as a threat. He was the wimpy, pacifist nerd-freak, but the tall, broad-shouldered, decorated war hero would be a significant threat to the unbalanced, gun-wielding moron. Amaye would go out the back door, make his way around to the front and take Bran down from behind. Brick would call 911, then carry the popcorn back to the family room as if nothing was going on and distract him. “Where the FUCK are they,” Brantley screamed. Amaye bolted through the back door at a dead run. It was a long way around to the front of the house. Their cover story was that they were low on sodas, and Amaye had taken his bike to the convenience store on the corner because he’d had a couple of beers and didn’t want to drive. Brick closed his eyes and took two deep breaths, exhaling them slowly, putting his mind into the right frame for what was to come. He called 911, told them

there was an armed assailant in the house, gave them the address, left the phone under some kitchen towels, and kept the line open. He grabbed the two bowls of popcorn and went to the family room, walking through the open door as if he didn’t have a care in the world. When he saw Brantley, he feigned panic, barked out a childish screech, and tossed the popcorn in the air. Bran had a Glock G17 9mm, a semi-automatic pistol that used a cam-lock system similar to the one used in the Browning High-Power. It was a popular weapon for law enforcement, but in his opinion, not as good a weapon as the Sig Sauer P226, 9mm, his preferred sidearm. The action was a hair faster than the Glock’s, giving the Sig the ability to fire three rounds in the time it took the Glock to fire two. It was essential to know the weapon your opponent was using, and understanding its capabilities aided in developing defensive and offensive tactics. “Stop right there, asshole!” Brick had a fine line to walk. It had to be somewhere between panic, manic, and calm. He held his arms in front of himself, palms out. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, man. Don’t shoot. It’s all good.” “Where’s Mr. Owusu? Is he still in the kitchen?” Brantley looked bad. His outstretched hand pointing the gun at Brick was shaking. He was sweating, his eyes darted back and forth from him to the women cringing on the couch, and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. There were sweat stains in his pits and down the front of his red t-shirt. He looked as though he hadn’t slept for several days, and grime coated his jeans, forming a crusty patina. He smelled as though he’d been in the sewers, or a homeless camp, or both. Brick told him their cover story. Bran seemed to believe it. He ordered Brick to close and lock the front doors. Brick hoped Amaye had his keys with him but ed the spare inside the fake stone. Once he had locked the doors, Bran told Brick to sit next to Hiral and Tish, but he stopped a few paces away from the intruder; in between the man and the ladies; in between the Glock and the woman he loved. “I said sit the fuck DOWN!”

“Bran, it’s me, dude, the wimpy nerd-freak. I’m no danger, bro. Just tell me what this is all about.” “It’s about you and that fucking bitch. She fucking dumped me, now she’s fucking you, fucking asshole.” In a weird turn of thought, Brick thought it funny that so many people called him asshole. Maybe it really was his name. “No, she’s not Bran. What the fuck would she want with me? I ain’t shit. We’re just working on this project together.” “I saw you all cozy on the couch.” Brick used all of his senses to tell whether Bran was too far gone to talk down. So far, he still had his finger outside the trigger guard, though the Glock was cocked and ready to fire. His heartbeat was fast but steady. That gave him some time. The scent pouring from Bran was rancid and cloying, like smoking stale clove cigarettes inside a car with the windows rolled up. He smelled as though something evil festered inside him. “Tish is just buttering me up, so I’ll stay and finish the project. You know how she is. She likes to use her looks to get what she wants, right?” “So you two aren’t fucking?” “Shuh. I wish. She just wants to keep me from walking out on the project before it’s finished. She don’t give a rat’s ass about me beyond that, Bran. She’s just using me for the grade. Hell, she didn’t even know I knew until just now.” Brick couldn’t allow his mind to care if what he was saying affected Tish. He needed to stay laser-focused on his target. He had to know if and when Bran would make a move. “Then why’d she dump me?” “Dude, you almost hit her before, and now you got a gun in her face, and you’re asking that? This ain’t no way to get her back. You know that, right?” Bran pressed the side of the pistol against his head, rubbing it back and forth.

“Man, I’m so tired and confused. They told me something was going on between you and Tish, but I don’t know.” They? Brick thought, who the hell are they? Is he schizophrenic? If he is, I can’t take any chances. “There’s too many people telling me too many things. I’m tired. I haven’t slept in days. I just want this all to be over.” “It can be Bran,” Brick softened his voice, trying to cool down the moment. “I’m just so fucking tired.” Brantley seemed to be on the verge of tears. He dropped the pistol to his side. Things seemed to be calming down, then the front door swung open, and everything went to hell. “Asshole! Trying to trick me? They said you would...” Brick went into hyper mode as Bran began to lift the pistol. It had barely moved an inch by the time Brick covered the roughly fifteen feet between them. He curled his fingers into an open fist and drove his knuckles into Brantley’s trachea just hard enough to shock it into freezing for a few seconds. He grabbed Bran’s gun hand and twisted sharply. Tendons and ligaments popped and crackled, and the pistol began its slow fall to the floor. Brick lifted Bran’s arm, ducked underneath it, dodging the Glock as he did so; it had yet to hit the ground, and finished the move, twisting Bran’s arm behind his back. Brick then jammed his knee behind his opponent’s, driving him painfully, he hoped, to the ground. He plucked the Glock out of the air, dropped the clip, ejected the cartridge, and removed the slide so it couldn’t be fired. Brick dropped out of hyper mode, his knee planted firmly in Bran’s lower back and arm twisted behind him. He took out the paracord bracelet he always kept in his pocket, unbraided it, and hog-tied Brantley, wrists to ankles. When he finished, Brick leaned over, placed a hand on the floor and his mouth close to Brantley’s ear. “If you ever,” he yanked upward on Bran’s arm, making him cry out in pain, “EVER pull a gun on the woman I love again. I — will — end — you. You feel me?”

Bran squeaked out a feckless reply. Brick gave his arm a really good yank. “I said, do you feel me!” “Yeah, yeah, I get you, man. Please let up on my arm. It hurts.” “Like I give a shit. I’m not done with you yet. Listen up, cowboy. If daddy buys your way out of jail, I’ll come for you. If you try to run, I’ll find you. If you ever come near Tish again, it will take years for them to dig up what’s left of you. You get me?” “Alright, I get you.” Brick stood up, a little shaky and out of breath. It had been some time since he’d used hyper, and he’d lost much of his stamina. “What the fuck just happened, Brick?” Normally Hiral would have onished Tish for using profanity. It was a testament to the intensity of the moment that she remained silent. “I’d like to know the same thing, son. Answer Tish,” Amaye’s deep voice boomed. “Yah. It was like you disappeared from over there,” she pointed to where he’d been standing, “and reappeared where you are now. How’s that even possible?” Brick’s shoulders slumped as his hands shook slightly. Part of it was fatigue. But the rest was fear at what was to come and what he might lose. “I’ll explain everything, but first, I need to finish with Bran, and I need your help.” Brick looked down at Brantley, who had been moaning in pain after the punishment Brick had dealt out. “Bran, I’m gonna do you a favor. What do you think would go over better with your new cellmate and butt-buddy Bubba? That you got taken down by the wimpy, pacifist nerd-freak while you had a gun in his face, or by the decorated war hero who had to take you down from behind? What do you think would be

the better story in prison, Bran?” “Yeah, yeah. The war hero sounds good to me. That’s what I’ma tell the police.” “Good choice, and Bran, you’ve seen what I can do. I suggest you make it easy and confess because if you don’t...,” he let the threat hang in the air, then turned to the Owusu family, “this is where I need your help, but first, nighty-night Bran.” Brick punched two knuckles into the nerve bundle just under and to the rear of the right earlobe and twisted. Bran’s eyes closed, and his body relaxed, but Brick checked his pulse and listened to his breathing to be sure he wasn’t faking. Then he turned back to the Owusu family. Brick wanted Amaye to be the hero of the day instead of him. He needed to stay out of the papers to maintain his cover for the covert work he did for his family business. The look on Tish’s face was priceless. It was stuck somewhere between shock, surprise, and I knew there was something about him. Her wimpy, pacifist nerd-freak just turned out to be a covert operative with superpowers. She and Amaye readily agreed. Hiral was the only holdout. Brick stood by her decision when the other two tried to pressure her. “You two leave Mom alone. It’s her decision, and if she’s uncomfortable with it, then so am I.” “Brick, it’s okay....” “No, Mom, it’s not,” he interrupted, “no one pressures you while I’m around.” “Hun, you sure there’s not something I need to know,” remarked a smirking Amaye, “He’s got your spunk, your weird sense of humor, and he’s protecting you like a lion protects his pride.” “I think I’d know if I’d pushed a baby boy out of my vagina a couple of months after Latisha, Amaye. Blood doesn’t always make family, though, does it.” Hiral put a hand on Brick’s cheek. “Blood or not, you are the son I’ve always wanted, and you just saved our lives. I can do this thing for you.” Brick swept her up in his arms, planted a big kiss on her cheek, and thanked her. He heard sirens in the distance. He only had about five minutes to tell them his

story, and that was not enough time. He promised to reveal all after the police left. The police were quick and efficient, collecting information from all of them after cuffing and stuffing Brantley. One officer commended Amaye for his bravery and Brick for his willingness to be the decoy. It took less than two hours to process the scene, long enough for Brantley’s dad to show up and cause problems. The officers told him that Brantley had confessed. It was in writing and on bodycam after they had read him his rights and back off, or he’d his son in the holding cell back at the station. Brick locked eyes with Bran just before they hauled him off to remind him of what would happen if daddy did buy him out of jail. Once they were gone, Brick thanked the Owusus for helping to keep his secret. Hiral disappeared for a few minutes, then reappeared with a large pot of what smelled like jasmine tea and several cups. She poured everyone a cuppa. Brick sat on the couch. To his surprise, Tish sat next to him and slid her hand into his, interlacing their fingers. He could feel her shaking, so he disengaged his hand, wrapped his arm around her, pulled her close, and kissed her on the forehead. She laid her head on his shoulder. As he began the story, her shaking gradually subsided, and her arms encircled him. ❖

*****

❖ It had all begun with the melting ice in the Antarctic due to global climate change. Scientists had been shouting a warning about it for years, about virulent, prehistoric viruses trapped in the ice, waiting to be unleashed on an unprepared, unsuspecting world. His parents worked for an unnamed shadow organization whose mission was to think of the unthinkable and find a solution before the world needed one. They were supposed to be the vanguard against the unknown, the sword against the oncoming yet unseen enemy.

The organization had established a base in the Antarctic to study ice core samples, searching for biological hazards of all kinds. His father had been head of security, and his mother a virologist. His sister, Marble, had been nine at the time. They had found many viruses, but most were not much worse than the flu, then they hit the jackpot. They found a virus with non-terrestrial genetic markers in ice from the early Pleistocene Epoch before the last ice age had begun. Many believed it had been brought to Earth by an asteroid, maybe even the one that helped bring about the ice age. The discovery was the first indication of life beyond Earth and a significant find, but there was more. When introduced to test animals, the virus accelerated their metabolisms, causing them to age rapidly. However, before they died, they exhibited increases in strength, agility, speed, and enhanced sensory perception. Geneticists eliminated the aging effects from the virus’s genetic code. They surreptitiously injected it into the Redstone family and other of the Antarctic post at the organization’s orders. A couple of months later, people began dying of old age. Brick’s mother, Ruby, had suspected something and had his father break into the genetics lab and copy their notes. The geneticists had not considered just how aggressive the virus had been, and it had reverted to its original form in many subjects, aging them in a matter of days. Ruby had begun aging as well, but not his father or sister. Brick’s mother worked frantically and found a fix for the aging process, but it turned out that all she could do was slow its progression. They found out that she was pregnant with Brick after Ruby had inoculated herself. The Redstones also discovered that they all had enhanced abilities. Brick’s father hatched a plan to escape, destroy the facility and take all of the research for the virus they had found. No one knew if it had been the virus or Ruby’s vaccination that had done it, but, whatever it was, had crossed the blood placental barrier and accelerated Brick’s gestation. He’d been born, a fully developed baby in only three months. Fortunately, the acceleration ended for him with his birth. Three years later, though chronologically thirty-seven, Brick’s mother died at the biological age of eighty-nine. That was when his father and sister had dedicated their lives to taking down the unnamed organization. “In a very small circle of people, we are known as Ghosts. We can move at

extreme speeds for a short time. We call it hyper. We also have enhanced strength, night vision, super hearing, smell, and taste.” “So you were born this way.” “I was, Pops.” “I always knew there was more to you, son.” “What’s it feel like?” “I wish I could answer that, Tish, but I don’t have any other frame of reference. This is the norm for me. I’ve never known anything else. Maybe my father and sister could tell you. They were normal once. Me? I’m the only one of my kind.” Though he had tried, Brick couldn’t keep a hint of sadness from tainting his confession. “I think I truly understand you now, Brick, why you are the way you are.” Tish snuggled up to him even more. She didn’t seem to be afraid that he was different, neither did her mom or dad. He was grateful for that. To lose them all at that point would have devastated him. “You’re not alone anymore. I’m here—we’re all here for you.” “There’s even more.” Each of them had a unique ability. Brick’s father could mold stone as though it were clay. His sister could sense the latent energy patterns of living creatures, able to track them an hour or more after they had left an area or profile events that had recently happened. She also had some weird, freaky psychic link with Brick, as though they were twins. “I can use a larger percentage of my brain than even Einstein or Hawking, and my cognitive abilities are still growing. According to their notes, white coats thought that my having inherited the genetic alterations would make me capable of developing even more abilities. They were right.” Brick reluctantly disengaged from Tish just to be safe, assuring her that it was

for her protection. “No one knows about this, not even my family.” He laid his left hand on the couch, then phased through it all the way up to his elbow. They all gasped as he withdrew his hand, holding a pen that Pops had lost weeks ago. Where his hand had phased through, there was a dark spot, like a shadow. He assured them that it would fade in a matter of hours. Suddenly fatigued, Brick leaned back onto the cushions. Tish, apparently not the least bit bothered by his mutation, was right back at his side; concern, not fear, filled her eyes, and she held him tightly. “I can affect matter on a quantum level, increasing the distance between subatomic particles so they can around and through more tightly-packed molecules. They named me after what they predicted I’d leave when I phased. I’m what the white coats called the Ghost’s Shadow.”

Chapter Eleven

Catch-22

After nearly two hours of answering questions, Brick and the Owusu family were ready for bed. Tish had not been more than five feet away from him, except for the one time she reluctantly detached herself to go tinkle. Hiral hugged him goodnight. “The guest house is ready for you as usual. You know, you are always welcome to move in permanently.” “Thanks, Mom. It’s good to know I have options,” he kissed her on the cheek, “but I think it’s best if I sleep on the couch tonight. “Do you believe we’ll have some trouble tonight?” “No, Pops, but no one ever got hurt by being too safe, right.” Amaye looked at Hiral, then back to Brick. “How can two people be so much alike but had never met before, what, three months ago? You two freak me out.” Pops gave him a big hug as Hiral disappeared down the far hallway. “Thanks for saving our family, Brick. I’ll always be in your debt.” “Naw Pops, no debts with family.” Hiral showed up with a sheet, blanket, and pillow and handed them to Brick as she stood on her tippy-toes to kiss him on the cheek. “Sleep well, my son.”

She grabbed Amaye’s hand, guided him up the stairs and into their bedroom, leaving Tish and Brick alone. “Can I thank you for saving my life tonight?” “Didn’t you already do that?” “Not properly.” Tish took the bedclothes from Brick and set them on the couch. She went back to him and slid her arms under his, hugged him tight, laid her head on his chest, and sighed. After almost a minute, she pulled back, whispered, “thank you,” raised on her toes, and kissed him. His memory of their first kiss must have faded because the current kiss seemed light years better than the first. They were no longer strangers, had shared a few intimate moments, and many barriers between them had fallen. They teased each other as before, but this time they fell into a rhythm more quickly, taking pleasure with their ballet of tongues. Tish smiled, wrapped her arms around his neck, and pulled him down to her, mouth hungrily seeking more. Brick relinquished control, following her lead and responding to her signals. Her musky vanilla scent was overpowering, and he almost lost himself in it, ready to give in to all of her desires, and she wanted him, right then and right there. Somehow he resisted because he had to. Was she doing this because of him or because of what had happened? People reacted differently to lifethreatening events. There was no way to know. After an eternity, Tish slowly ended the embrace with what seemed like a hundred kisses, each decreasing in intensity, like a runner, slowly cooling down after a marathon. Tish finally pulled back. “That was the best thank you I’ve ever gotten.” “You do not disappoint Brick. Two kisses over a couple of months, and both curled my toes. I was beginning to wonder if the first one was a fluke. I’m glad I was wrong.” Brick caressed her cheek. Tish closed her eyes and leaned into it. “We’d better get some sleep. We have a big day tomorrow.”

Tish hesitated for a moment; an unfamiliar look appeared on her face, then as quickly as it had emerged, it disappeared. She sighed again. “I guess you’re right. Good night, Brick.” She kissed him once more, her tongue darting out quickly to caress his before retreating. “Good night, Tish.” Brick watched her as she exited the family room, crossed the foyer, and glided up the stairs. The or something option had been hidden in her kiss, her smile, and her scent. He so wanted to accept that option. He would have if not for Brantley. Life definitely sucked, and the three beotches of Fate really loved to screw with him. The woman he loved was finally returning his affection, but was it because of what her ex had done, or was it because Tish was actually falling for him? Even as Brantley languished in jail, the sonofabitch still tortured him. Brick arranged the sheet and blanket on the couch and slipped into an Alpha Rhythm, a state where his body rested while his mind stayed on watch. It was one of the many lessons he’d learned while he cloistered at Nil Parity. He used it just in case Bran’s posse showed up. He didn’t think it likely, but as he’d said earlier, you could never be too safe. At about two in the morning, Brick awoke to Tish’s scent and the sound of her padding down the stairs, trying to be silent and doing a decent job of it. It might even have worked if he weren’t a Ghost. He had expected her because earlier, his enhanced hearing had detected her muffled cries as though she’d awakened from a nightmare. When she reached the door to the family room, he spoke. “Hard time sleeping?” “Of course you heard me, superhero. Yah. I keep dreaming about how large the barrel of that gun looked. I’ve never been so scared in my life.” “I understand, and I’m no hero, Tish.” “You’re my hero. Can I sit with you?” “Absolutely.”

Brick sat up to make room for her. She was wearing a silk chemise. He couldn’t tell what color, though. His night vision was good but not good enough to distinguish colors in the darkness of the family room. It was, however, tantalizingly evident that she wore nothing underneath. She snuggled up next to him as she had during the movie. This time though, her elbow rested on the inside of his thigh, and her left hand caressed his knee. Already her scent, enhanced by whatever perfume she was wearing, was beginning to affect him. “Can you hear my heartbeat?” “I can. I have your scent, too.” “What’s it like?” “A meadow of wildflowers on a summer afternoon, just after a brief, cleansing rain. That’s your base scent. Now it’s infused with a healthy dose of fresh vanilla.” “Is that for real, or are you BS-ing?” “It’s for real. It’s how I interpret it anyway. Your scent is a pheromone designed to elicit a sensory response, so when I describe yours, it’s how I feel when I sense it. Your base scent never changes, but your mood adds to it.” “Like when I’m angry.” “Yes.” “Or horny?” “That’s the vanilla.” “How often have you sensed that?” “Do you want the whole list, or just the top ten?” Tish giggled, actually giggled, then spanked his knee. “I’m calling BS on that one. I count three times.” Brick couldn’t help but smirk, “You mean I’ve made you horny three times?”

“Who said it was you all three times?” “You just implied that it was at least once. You gotta give me that.” “All right, I’ll give you that,” she squeezed his knee, “It was you all three times, including now.” Their conversation meandered through different topics, then drifted toward martial arts and how much Tish had improved since they had started sparring. Brick revealed that the time she had pinned him, the second time he’d noticed the vanilla scent, he had shifted to hyper because she had gotten so good, but it hadn’t mattered. She had won anyway. She gave him crap ing three ‘I’ words to describe her again when he told her that she was the most incredible, intuitive, and instinctual fighter he’d ever seen. He made it clear that if she could beat him in hyper, she could beat anyone and that she should trust her instincts and intuition. Technical skill made you a good fighter, but it didn’t make you a true Martial Artist. Using a bit of yourself, like intuition, evolved you beyond the technical into the artistry. He told her that she had become an artist that day. Somehow Tish snuggled even closer to him. She asked about different aspects of Brick’s abilities. She seemed to be genuinely interested in learning as much as she could about what he could do. Then she asked him a question for which he did not have a definite answer. It was a question he’d asked himself and his family. He’d poured through the notes they had retrieved from the lab, but even the white coats hadn’t considered the question. He had no idea if he would ever find the answer, and on some level, it troubled him. “Are you still human?” The darkness of the family room did little to hide his facial expression and seemed to cause her concern. She pulled the arm on her abdomen more closely around her until the top of his hand touched the soft roundness of her breast, and she caressed his knee again. “You don’t have to answer, Brick. It doesn’t really matter. It won’t change anything between us.”

“That’s just it, Tish. I don’t even know. Genetically, I have both human and viral genomes. They’ve merged into a new genetic strand, with the human genome dominant and the viral genome in symbiosis. I am truly the only one of my kind.” “That sounds lonely.” “Sometimes it is.” “Who was the other one?” “What do you mean?” “Before, you said that two people you were in love with had died. You told me about one. Would you tell me about the other?” Brick hesitated for a few seconds. “Brick, you don’t have to. Nothing’s going to change things. Not now.” “No. I owe you that. Lord knows you’ve told me about all your past lovers. I can do the same. His name was Fritz, and after you, he was the most beautiful person I have ever known.” Brick told Tish the whole story, all the way to its tumultuous ending. She never interrupted, but she leaned in even closer to him if that was even possible. Brick’s palm now cupped Tish’s breast as her hand pressed it farther up. When he finished, Tish kissed him softly just behind and below his ear, making him shiver. “I didn’t know you were like me.” “I don’t know if I am. Fritz was the only man I’ve ever been attracted to. I’m beginning to believe it was just him. Maybe we were kindred spirits or something.” “My parents have always ed my sexuality. I’m lucky that way.” “My dad didn’t care one way or the other. Mara, though, always had my back no matter what.”

“You know my parents love the shit out of you, right?” “Yeah. I kind of got that. Still, I was shocked when Mom offered to let me stay in the guest house permanently. She must really trust me.” “They do, but what they want most is for us to hook up.” “They’re that cool about it?” “Brick, they couldn’t stop me any more than their parents could stop them, so they made sure I was safe, well educated, and protected. They’ve been waiting for me to bring home someone like you.” “You mean the wimpy, pacifist nerd-freak?” “No. Someone who truly respects their daughter and would do anything to keep her safe. In a way, I guess that’s what I’ve been looking for as well.” “What? You have a daughter?” Tish giggled again, gently elbowed him in the solar plexus, then pressed his hand more firmly against her breast. “This feels right, Brick, doesn’t it?” “It does.” Tish stopped talking and leaned her head against his shoulder. The silence between them stretched into minutes, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. She held his hand in place on her breast, and the hand on his knee was tracing some random pattern. Softly. Gently. Sensually. He felt his temperature rise as the scent of vanilla grew more intense. “Do you still love me, Brick?” “More than ever.” Tish turned toward him, guiding the hand on her breast to her bare bottom. Her elbow lifted from his thigh and her right hand slid across his chest, under his shirt.

“Do you still want me?” “Desperately, but....” he whispered. In a smooth, deft move showing her strength and grace, she straddled him, guiding his hand between her thighs onto her moist softness as one breast freed itself from the bondage of the chemise. Tish moaned as she kissed him and began unbuttoning his pants. Brick stopped her and gently ended the kiss. “What’s wrong, Brick? I know you want me. I can feel your need for me. Make love to me, Brick.” “I can’t.” “Why?” “Mom and Pops are in their bedroom with the door open.” “So?” “All they have to do is walk out on the balcony, and they’ll see us. I won’t disrespect them like that, not when they’ve treated me like family.” “Then let’s go to my room or the guest house.” Brick opened his mouth, then closed it as his eyes dropped. “Wait. That’s why you’re here on the couch, isn’t it? All that safety crap was just bullshit. Did you expect me to come to you?” He sensed that Tish was not so much angry as curious, which, oddly, enhanced the scent of her desire for him. She started kissing him on the lips, on the neck, on the chest. “Suspected, not expected, not until I heard you were having a nightmare.” Her actions continued, and Brick felt his resistance waning, almost in full retreat. His hand that she kept pressed against her moved almost involuntarily, teasing the sensitive bud of flesh at the apex of the labia minora. Tish gasped and nipped

his lower lip, drawing a bead of blood that she lapped up, inserting her tongue into his mouth immediately afterward. Brick’s resolve nearly evaporated after that. “So why won’t you make love to me, Brick. I need you,” Tish gasped. “Catch-22.” In a last, desperate leap for logic, Brick had been intentionally enigmatic in hopes that his puzzling response would snap them both out of their emotional immersion. It worked. She still straddled him, and she still held his hand in place between her thighs, but her eyes were clear, focused, and drilled into his. She is magnificent! “What do you mean?” Gathering whatever reserves of resistance he had left, Brick explained, though a part of his mind remained fixated on where she still held his hand captive. “Whatever choice I make, you’ll probably still end up hating me again.” “I don’t get it. Why would I start hating you again?” People who have had a close brush with death react in different ways. Nearly all of them seek a way to validate life. They need to know if they can ever feel anything but fear. Sex validates life and dispels the fear of death, but it rarely works for very long. Brick was concerned that Tish was reacting more to her brush with death than to her attraction to him. He didn’t want her to think he had taken advantage. “So you think that’s what I’m doing now?” “I don’t know if it is or not, Tish, and if it’s not, you’re going to hate me for rejecting you.” Brick was sure that if her desire for him was genuine, she would get over her anger at his rejection in a few days and would realize that he had been acting in her best interests. That was his catch-22.

“This is real, Brick. I’ve wanted to be with you for a while now. I just never did anything because of our deal and our project.” “How can I be sure, though? To have you and then lose you would devastate me, Tish. I can’t go through that again.” Tish’s gaze softened a little more. Brick knew that she ed the story of the love he’d killed through his own stupidity. “What can I do to convince you that this is real?” She pressed his hand against her sex, head back, eyes closed, shivering at the . Then she let him go. “Give me three days. If you still feel the same way,” Brick raised the hand to his mouth and tasted her, “I will never, ever, turn you down again.” Tish closed her mouth around his index finger and slowly pulled it out, her tongue caressing it lovingly. “Sounds like a deal,” Tish said, licking her lips. “What’s your half of it?” Tish placed his hand on the breast that refused to remain sheathed by her chemise. Brick’s thumb and forefinger immediately went to work on her erect nipple. Tish leaned in close, her breath tickling his ear. “On days four and five, we skip school and spend them in the guest house. You’re going to have to pay for making me wait, Brick, and after I’m finished with you, you won’t be able to walk straight.” “Deal,” Brick responded. They sealed the deal. Tish slid off of Brick and sat at his side, facing him, left leg folded under, the other hanging over the side of the couch, her breast still enticingly unsheathed. “Can I at least stay down here with you?”

“I’d love that, but there’s not much room unless you sleep on the L-shape.” “Uh-uh. I want to sleep in your arms. It’s the only way I’ll feel safe.” Brick thought for a moment. He heard movement up on the balcony. “Here, let me lie down and get comfy, and you lay on top of me.” “Be real, Brick. I’m not a small woman.” “To me, Tish, you’re as light as a feather.” “For a nerd, you got some serious game.” After they got situated on the couch, Tish kissed him lightly. “I love you, Tish. I only thought I loved you before, now I’m sure.” “I know, and it used to bother me. Now it makes me feel warm, and welcome, and wonderful. I’m happy that you love me. I love that we’re together right now.” “Me too. Good night.” “Night, Brick,” Tish laid her head on his chest, “I can hear your heartbeat, and you’re very comfy. Who said a mattress made of Brick would be too hard to sleep on.” They both laughed softly. “That was a terrible joke. You know that, right?” “You still laughed at it.” “True-dat.” Brick kissed her on the forehead, then settled into the sofa cushions as Tish nestled her head under his chin and wrapped her arms around him as she moved farther to the side, partially ed by the cushions on the back of the couch. He covered them both with the blanket. Brick looked up at the balcony where he’d heard Mom’s and Pops’ heartbeats. Brick heard them walk out onto the

balcony after Tish had dismounted and sat next to him, but he was sure they had heard enough. Mom blew him a kiss, and Pops gave him a thumbs up before they returned to their bedroom. He had their blessing and was very glad that they had a healthy attitude regarding their daughter’s sexuality. Tish’s breathing told him she was already asleep, so he closed his eyes and slipped back into an Alpha rhythm.

Chapter Twelve

The Field

Three hours later, about 4 am, Brick’s mind woke him up. He knew something was wrong, but he couldn’t tell what. Field training had taught him that you never opened your eyes when roused from sleep and let an enemy know you’re awake. You lie still, maintain your breathing in a resting pattern, and use your senses to figure out what was going on. He calmed himself and turned his focus inward. He’d learned that this improved his already enhanced senses. Heartbeats. I hear heartbeats—five of them, very close. Brick tried rolling toward the cushions on their right, but it woke Tish up. “Oh. Change your mind already, Brick? Good, I...” He pressed a finger to her lips, leaned in close to her ear, and whispered, “We’re in trouble—invaders in the house. I don’t know where yet. I’m listening for their heartbeats. Keep your eyes closed and use your senses. If I have to act, stay still. I know you can help, but only as a last resort, my ace in the hole, okay?” Brick expected her to resist his request, but he had asked her to wait for a reason. Tish had never been in a real fight, and he couldn't afford to risk her freezing at the wrong moment. That would doom them all. To his great relief, Tish nodded her head and remained silent. Brick continued his roll as Tish helped. Her back was now against the cushions. Their arms and legs were no longer entangled, so Brick was free to maneuver. He sensed six sets of heartbeats now, two upstairs and four downstairs, approaching slowly. He caught a whiff of their scents. They weren’t Brantley’s posse as he thought they might be. The fact that they moved with practically no sound told Brick that they were professionals, but why did they all smell of garlic? Who were they there for? What did they want? Were they there for him? Did the organization finally

make its move? Did they want Pops for his trigger tech? Then he settled on the gist of it all. It didn’t matter. These people were there to hurt his family and the woman he loved. The four downstairs took positions in the four cardinal points around them. Stupid. The idiots can’t fire without risking hitting each other. Maybe they aren’t as professional as I thought. Or they were just that overconfident. Brick readied himself for hyper mode. He heard the unmistakable cough of a tranquilizer gun firing, presumably in Mom and Pops’ bedroom, upstairs. Time was up. First was the intruder to their left, across the coffee table. He went hyper, launched himself off of the couch, and flew through the air, twisting, just a blur of movement. His scissor kick landed on the bridge of his target’s nose, shattering the bone and cartilage, sending shards of both into her brain. Before she had even begun to fall, Brick snatched her foot-long Bowie knife from the thigh sheath. One second. He landed in the classic three-point hero stance for an instant, then lunged toward his second target, the one at the L-shaped end of the sectional. Brick held the knife blade out, flat side against his forearm for as it bit into and through the neck of his next victim, a large man who looked to be in his forties. He pulled his knees up and used the man’s falling body as a springboard to launch himself toward target number three behind the couch, near the balcony. Two seconds. Brick didn’t have enough momentum to reach his next target, so he grabbed the back of the couch and levered himself into a spin, delivering a devastating roundhouse kick to the left side of the number three’s chest, stopping his heart. He rode the body down to the floor, where he helped himself to the dead man’s Glock. Four seconds and counting. He was seriously out of practice, too damned slow, and one more to go at the head of the couch. Brick rolled, then threw the heavy knife, thinking that with its terrible balance, he’d misjudged the proper release point. The knife went almost entirely through the woman’s sternum, severing her spine. One man had been watching the events from upstairs, and Brick saw him draw his own Glock in extreme slow-mo. Brick wondered if they had cashed in on a special. Hey, assholes for hire. Get your hot Glocks here for half price, literally a buy two, get one free. Buy them in

bulk, and we’ll throw in an extra magazine and a live human for target practice! Five seconds. Seriously, dude? Right now? The little Brick on his shoulder said. There was no way Brick would make it up the stairs in time. He’d been in hyper for five seconds and was already feeling it. He dropped out after snatching two leaf-bladed throwing knives off of number four. He heard the cough of an air gun but couldn’t tell from where. “One more move, asshole, and that fine piece of ass dies.” Tish was immobile on the couch, and a tranquilizer dart sprouted from the side of her neck. The sixth heartbeat was upstairs with number five, who pointed his pistol at Tish. “Who are you, and what do you want?” “Venton Smythe’s the name, and we come for you, asshole...” Again with the asshole? Do you people know any other words to use? Little Brick railed again, Asshole—focus.

Et tu Bricktay? Not funny, shithead. “...You killed four of my best. Pray that my employer keeps wanting you alive because the second she don’t....” “Shut the fuck up, lap dog. Tish is the only one keeping you alive, and we both know it.” “Actually, I’ve got her mum and daddy up here too. Wouldn’t want anything to happen to them, would you?” Number six had been against the wall behind Venton on the balcony. He moved into sight.

“Besides, I have a plan B.” Behind him, Brick heard two clicks, then high-pitched whines decreasing in pitch, like power sources winding down. Two heartbeats replaced that sound. Biometric attenuators. No heat, no sound, and no scent. How the hell did they get those? Only a handful exist, and we have three of them. Brick had already developed his plan, and he had no time to come up with another one. There was nothing else to do but go through with it and hope he could improvise to take out the extra soldiers. His remaining hypertime was limited, and he had too many targets in too many places. There was no chance to adapt, no time to do anything but act. So act he did. He ed Sun Tsu’s proverb about the unsuccessful warrior and kicked it to the curb. He was the Ghost’s Shadow. They didn’t exist back then, and like Tish had said, not all proverbs fit all situations. Brick went into hyper. He threw the first knife at number six. The second knife followed right after flying toward Smythe. At the same time, he dropped the pistol he’d taken and powered toward Tish. If his plan didn’t work, he’d need to get her out of the bullet’s path and to safety under the balcony. He heard Smythe pull the trigger in slow motion. Brick careened toward and over Tish, preparing his body for the strain he was about to put on it. Tish was right, she wasn’t a small woman, and she was solid—all muscle. Except in all the right places, his mind interjected. Bricktay shouted, REALLY? NOW? Brick shuttered the irrelevant thoughts and continued. Tish would be sore in the morning, but she would be alive. He looked up and saw his first knife drill into number six’s eye socket all the way up to the end of the taped hilt. The second was the most spectacular. Though he’d missed his target, it had still been the throw of a lifetime. The knife reached the barrel of the Glock just as the bullet exited. It shattered the blade, and such was its velocity that the remaining shards kept flying toward Smythe. Brick wanted to watch, but he had to save Tish. He heard the two tranquilizer guns behind him fire, but he was no longer in their sights as he sailed over Tish. He grabbed her wrists and pulled as hard as he could, focusing all of his strength on the effort. To his surprise, Tish was literally as light as a feather. His mind railed against it because it violated all the laws of

physics—until he saw her phase through the couch. Holy shit! I phased her. I didn’t even know that was possible. God, please let me not have killed her too. Then Brick realized that he had planned on Tish’s mass to help him slow down, the wall was rapidly approaching, and there wasn’t a lot of time left, even for him. He twisted in midair so that his back would take the brunt of the collision. He pulled the now solid Tish against him and anchored her with his arms and legs. Brick relaxed his muscles to limit the damage, dropped out of hyper, and waited. He slammed into the wall and stopped suddenly. It felt like the whole house shuddered because he had landed on a stud. His head snapped back, and he heard a loud crack. He didn’t know if the sound had come from the stud, his skull, his spine, or all of the above. They fell three feet to the floor. His body took the brunt of the force as Tish was still safely wrapped in his arms and legs. Brick’s head rang. Pain racked his body, he tasted blood, and his vision was blurred, but he could tell he wasn’t seriously hurt. His fingers flew to Tish’s neck, pulled the dart out, and felt for a pulse. It was slow and even. He breathed a sigh of relief. The ringing in his head dimmed, and he could hear screaming from the balcony above. He hoped that Smythe was in his death throes from the knife shrapnel. The only two left were running toward him, reloading the trank guns. Brick tried to go into hyper, but nothing happened. Phasing Tish had spent him. He was exhausted and running on adrenaline. He tried to rise, but his legs wouldn’t function. God no. Not again. I can’t lose her too. Rage consumed Brick. They would not harm her. He would save her this time. It won’t happen again. He would not lose her. The anger filled him until something ripped in the fabric of his mind. Did it rip, or was something released? Energy flooded his body. Fury mutated into an emotion he’d never felt, nor could he name. He felt—connected—to everything. He shouted, emphasizing each syllable by hammering the floor, cracking the concrete, “NOT— A — GAIN.” On the third syllable, he propelled himself to his feet and stared at the two

mercies, but what he saw made him pause. An infinity of light surrounded him. It was everywhere except for the shadows cast by his two adversaries. There were billions, trillions of infinitesimally small lights dancing, constantly in motion. They were in the walls, in the floor, dancing through the air itself. He lifted his hand. They were part of him too. He looked at Tish, but, like his enemies, she was a shadow within the sea of light. “Shoot him, you idiots! Shoot him now!” Fucking Smythe is still alive. The inadvertent rhyme made Brick crack a bloody smile, ing the movie Short Circuit with the sentient robot. Number Five is alive, he would say. Despite Brick’s redrum grin, the urgent shout from their leader snapped the mercenaries out of their stupor, and they fired. The darts slammed into what remained of the wall behind him. No way they could have missed at that range. They were loading again, moving shadows against a background of billions of micro-stars dancing in a complex but recognizable rhythm. The rhythm, there was something about the motion of those lights. Then it hit him. The patterns, dear God, I’m seeing subatomic particles. I’m in the Akashic Field! That connected feeling made sense to him now. The power driving him had a time limit, though. Brick could feel it draining from him like grains of sand in an hourglass. He had to take care of the two enemies immediately. That would leave the injured Smythe if still alive, but would he have the time? He wasn’t connected to the two mercies, but he was to the floor beneath them and the air around them. He gestured, waving away the lights under the mercenaries. He wasn’t sure if he was phasing the floor or erasing it. It didn’t matter because the result was the same. They began to fall. Brick waved the lights back into place when the two mercies had dropped halfway through the opening. Their shadows filled with light, and suddenly, he was connected to them, or what was left of them anyway. When the floor rematerialized, or unphased, or whatever, the mercies had literally become a part of it, made of the same material. They weren’t a threat anymore. He had to save Tish with the remaining time. Smythe was undoubtedly on the way, but Brick had few options left. He reached out to Tish’s shadow and

touched her arm. She lit up like a Christmas Tree. He needed her to be safe, and that thought permeated his mind. She must always be safe, always. Brick felt power flow from him into her. The creature of light that was Tish grew brighter, flashed once then returned to her normal magnificence. Somehow he knew that this was a good sign. Next, he partially phased, then lifted her; also good. In Quantum physics, a property called superposition existed, the ability for one particle to occupy two different places simultaneously, and neither time nor distance were factors. Psychics called it bilocation. He and Mara had this freaky psychic connection, but Mara was usually sensing him in trouble, never a back and forth. It was worth a try, especially now. He reached out in the direction of his house. Suddenly, he stood in her bedroom and the Owusu house simultaneously. He wasn’t sure if she could see him. He wasn’t sure if he was even physically there. Mara was also a being of light without his touching her. He wondered if it was because of their mutation. Mara. Mara, I need you. Wake up. Brick? I hear you. How are you doing this? I’m in the Field, Mara. I’m sending you a friend. What? How? Who? No time. My power is waning, and I need to keep her safe. Keep her safe for me. Before Mara could respond, Brick willed Tish to his sister’s room, and she shifted, momentarily in both places at once, then materialized on the end of Mara’s bed. “What the fuck!” Brick, tell me, how? It worked, thank God. I was able to save her this time, Mara. I couldn’t save her before, but now she’ll live. So many years ed, so many times I ran it through my mind. I failed to keep her from driving away, to keep her from crashing the car. I am finally able to save her. I can rest now. Oh God, Brick. I had no idea you still hurt so much over Kaylen’s death. I’m so sorry I didn’t see.

I never told you, Mara. We don’t talk about things like that in our family. Always the head, never the heart. I love you, Mara. I want you to know that. I’m almost finished now. Brick, no. You’re fading. Don’t leave me, Brick, please. I love you, Lil bro. You’re all I’ve got left. Please don’t go. It’s okay, sis. So tired. She’s alive. I finally saved her. I’m all good now, but my power’s—all—gone. Brick pulled himself back, closing the connection with Mara. He was unsure what would happen, but she didn’t need to see it. Only a few grains of sand remained. The lights around him faded as his energy dissipated. The Smythe shadow stumbled toward him. The closer he got, the more he coalesced into a disfigured, bloody, night vision-distorted wraith that stank of garlic and piss. “She’s gone, dickhead, and you got nothin’. Better hurry. Help’s on the way.” “Not close enough to help you, arsehole, and someday, when Zindriya’s done with you, I’m gonna make you pay for what you did to me and the seven friends you chilled.” Brick gurgled. It was supposed to be a chuckle, but his mouth wasn’t quite working any longer. His mind began to drift. He was exhausted. Saliva flowed freely over his chin and pooled on the floor between his feet. He tried to say something about the number seven and how it matched the old Grimm’s fairy tale. How they didn’t name the dwarves in the story, just like his victims had no names, shadows in the night, but it came out as a jumbled mumble. That thought made him gurgle-giggle even more. The thought of Smythe as Snow White almost made him literally choke on his own spit. He ed fake choking with Tish long ago. The lights were gone. Brick was at peace. He was finally able to save his love after so many years. A part of him knew that Tish wasn't the one who had died, but maybe rescuing her would be enough. Nothing else mattered. He was light as a feather, like Tish. The darkness began to envelop him, pressing him from all sides. He thought that maybe asshole, or arsehole, really was his name, and Mara would put it on his headstone. Brick was so tired. He had no clue how he was still standing or even why when the concrete floor would be so much comfier. Was that even a word? Concrete was a lot like brick, and Tish had said he was

comfy. She was safe and alive. He had finally saved her. The car crash would never happen now. Maybe she could forgive him. Maybe, at last, he could forgive himself. The darkness was complete. Brick sank to the floor and slid into the shapeless, formless abyss of oblivion.

Chapter Thirteen

Warrioress

Tish and Brick were flying a spaceship they had designed and built around Jupiter. It was the vessel’s maiden voyage, and they were celebrating their honeymoon. The newlyweds had named the ship Shadow of the Ghost. Tish was piloting, and Brick was navigating, but he just stared at the screen as though he were looking right through it. “You’re safe now, Tish. Nothing can ever hurt you anymore. You’ll be fine without me.” “What are you talking about, Brick? We’re about to orbit Jupiter, for God’s sake.” Brick turned his head toward her. It looked as though it rotated on a gimble, and she gasped. His eyes were gone, replaced by orbs of bright, golden light. He smiled at her, and the light shone through his teeth. “It’s time for me to move on into the Field, Tish. I’ll always love you. I promise you. We shall meet again, my love.” Brick burst into a cloud of billions of microscopic orbs of light. Tish yelled at him to come back, but a loud boom and the hiss of escaping atmosphere dragged her back to the controls. Something had struck the ship, breaching the hull, and it had also damaged the gravitic drive. The craft was going down. Tish fumbled for the switch on her suit collar to activate her helmet. It wrapped around her head but didn’t seal properly. Every redundant failsafe had malfunctioned, the cabin filled with gaseous ammonia, and Brick had abandoned her, disappearing into some damned Field. She would die all alone, her lungs first burned by the ammonia, then flashfrozen, and stuck for an eternity in the upper atmosphere of Jupiter. She started

screaming. “Damn girl, you got a set of lungs on you.” The voice sounded familiar, but Tish couldn’t place it. At first, she didn’t open her eyes, trying to follow Brick’s advice. “You can open your eyes, Tish. You’re not in danger anymore. My brother saw to that.” Her eyes still closed, Tish asked, “Mara?” “Yep, it’s me. You okay?” She finally opened her eyes. “Why are you here?” Tish looked around. “Wait. Where am I? Where’s Brick?” She tried to stand up, but her legs were tangled in bedsheets. “How did I get here? Where’s Brick?” Tish called out Brick’s name, but there was no answer. She unwrapped the sheets from her legs, trying to get moving. She had to find Brick. “Easy Tish. Brick’s not here. I don’t know where he is.” There was pain in Mara’s voice. Sadness. This was not the Mara she knew. Tish teetered on the ragged edge of fatigue and panic, yet somehow she remained relatively calm. She closed her eyes again and practiced breathing as Brick had taught her. In a few seconds, she felt more under control but needed answers. “How did I get here if Brick didn’t bring me?” “He sent you.” “Sent me? What the hell are you talking about?” Mara explained what she had experienced over the last few hours. Tish found it hard to believe, but there she was, sitting on Mara’s bed still in the chemise she’d worn for Brick. What other explanation was there? Then there was her dream where Brick had mentioned the Field. The smell of ammonia in the dream probably came from the bottle of smelling salts Mara was holding. Tish touched

her neck and pulled away a droplet of blood, apparently still leaking from the puncture wound of the dart. She told Mara what she ed, which wasn’t much. She had opened her eyes after Brick had flown off of the couch and had watched the first four go down as a blurred wraith’s shadow ed in front of them. Tish had been on the verge of vomiting at the sight of all the blood when she felt a sting in her neck. Then she woke up in Mara’s bed. “They used ketamine. It has hallucinogenic effects, among other things. Probably why you had the dream.” Mara stood up, grabbed some clothes off of her nightstand, and tossed them to her. “These aren’t mine.” Tish’s mind was still a little foggy. She took a few more deep breaths to try and clear it. “I didn’t have anything that would fit you, so I borrowed them from my dad.” Tish held them up. Olive drab wasn’t her color, but at least they were clean. Still, she hesitated. “Hey, it’s fine by me if you want to walk around bare-assed. Shit. My brother has damn good taste in women, the same taste I have.” Tish watched Mara’s smirk morph into a lascivious smile as her eyes tracked up and down. Determined not to be cowed by the older woman, Tish stood up, dropped her chemise on the floor, and pulled the clothing on as Mara watched. “Your eyes may water, your teeth may grit, but none of my body will you ever get.” “Nice verse, Princess. Let’s go,” Mara turned to leave. “I’m not your frigging princess, hag.” “Maybe not, but you are definitely my brother’s girlfriend,” Mara stated as she left the room. Tish opened her mouth to deny what she’d said but realized that it would have been a lie. She wanted to be Brick’s girlfriend. Even if he didn't know it yet, he

was her boyfriend, but she thought he did understand on some level. Then it hit her. The way Mara had said that she didn’t know where he was implied that she wasn’t even sure he was still alive. What if he’d used all of his life energy getting her to safety? What if he were dead? What if she never got a chance to tell him that she loved him? Her choice to hide her feelings from Brick seemed so stupid. Now she might never get the chance. I have to find him. I will find him. Tish followed Mara through the door. Brick’s dad, Flint, met them in the kitchen. There were several large bags lined up on the floor. “Alright, ladies. Grab a bag or two, and let’s get to the Hummer. It’s a bit of a drive back to the Owusu’s, and every minute ed is time lost from finding Brick.” Tish picked up one of the bags, expecting it to be heavy, but it wasn’t, so she picked up a second. Mara and her dad looked at her strangely, but she brushed aside the odd looks and urged them to get going. They filled the forty-minute drive to Tish’s house by grilling her on as many details as possible regarding all aspects of the previous night, including Brantley’s intrusion. Based on the things Bran had been saying, Flint and Mara deduced that the goon squad that had attacked had been using Bran as a catalyst. The plan had obviously worked, or they wouldn’t have proceeded with the abduction. The whole setup reeked of a detailed and ongoing campaign to capture Brick. It seemed as though her boyfriend had thrown an enormous monkey wrench into their plan and hopefully forced them into leaving some clues. That was the hope. When they pulled into the long, sweeping drive, the Owusu estate looked serene as the sun hung just above the horizon, but as soon as they walked through the front door, what they saw utterly destroyed any sense of normalcy. Blood was splattered everywhere. The four bodies of Brick’s initial victims remained where they had fallen. Tish dashed up the stairs to check on her parents before Flint or Mara could stop her. She kept her senses alert, prepared for enemies to pop out from every nook and cranny. The only things she found were a puddle of drying blood at the edge of the balcony overlooking the family room and the dead body of another intruder laying in a lake of blood with the hilt of a knife sticking out of his eye socket. He had lost control of both bowels and bladder. The sight and the smell stopped her, and she vomited for what seemed like hours until nothing but bile burned its way out of her stomach. She felt a hand on her shoulder and

reacted instantly. As quick as she was, Mara was light years faster and effortlessly countered her attempt at a wrist lock. “Easy, Princess. I’m not the enemy.” Tish shoved Mara away. “I told you, I’m not your fucking princess. Call me that again, and it’s on.” She stalked off toward her parents’ bedroom, stepping over the body of the fallen mercie. Tish breathed a sigh of relief at the sleeping forms huddled under the blanket, their chests rising and falling rhythmically. “You got that smelling salts, right,” Tish asked, sensing that Mara was close behind her. She caught a whiff of cinnamon and turned earth but ignored it as remnants of the ketamine. Mara placed the vial in her hand, then went back downstairs. She used it on her mother first, and then, after a quick explanation, she had Hiral use the vial on her father. She thought it would be better if his wife woke him up. Long minutes later, with her parents up to speed, Tish ed Flint and Mara to see their progress. Tish was about to ask what was going on, but Flint silenced her by pressing a finger to his lips and pointing to his daughter. Mara walked around the family room, arms out at shoulder-width, eyes closed. She reminded Tish of a psychic or a medium in a trance, casting about a room searching for spirits. Tish had not walked into the family room before running upstairs, so when she saw what was left of two of the intruders melted into and merged with the floor, her gorge rose again, threatening to decorate what remained of the carpet, but she held it back this time. Mara came out of her trance. She staggered a bit but leaned on a nearby wall for . “My Lil’ bro is a fucking badass. You won’t believe what I saw, dad. There were eight. He took out seven and severely injured the last one. Trained, well-armed soldiers spread out over far too much real estate. Impossible, but he did it.” “Yeah, but the one left was enough, wasn’t it? Did you get anything useful?” Mara glared at her dad for a second, then walked to a section of caved-in wall under the balcony. Written on the inner wall, in blood, was ‘V. Smythe’ and ‘Zindr... ’. The rest of the second word was unreadable.

“Shit. Zindriya’s got him,” a look of concern clouded Flint’s face. “Who’s V. Smythe?” “Gun for hire. Venton Smythe, British mercenary. He’s moderately capable and specializes in snatch and grabs.” “You two know where to find them?” “Stay out of it, Princess. This is grown-up work.” Tish had had enough of Mara’s smug bitchiness. She ran up to the taller woman, grabbed her by the shirt, and slammed her against the wall. “Call me princess one more time, you dried up old heifer, and I’ll kick your ass!” Mara grinned, but her eyes told a different story. Tish sensed it coming and acted. She leaned back, dragging Mara with her into a backward roll, planted her feet in the taller woman’s center of gravity, and propelled her ten feet away. This gave Tish time to rise, face her adversary and prepare for battle. Flint jumped between them. “Stop this now! This ain’t gettin’ us nowhere. Time’s wastin’ and Brick’s gettin’ farther away.” Tish maintained her fighting stance as Mara picked herself up. “Not bad, Tish. I guess you ain’t such a princess after all. Well, maybe a warrior princess.” Mara stuck her hand out as if to shake. “Peace. I pushed you, and I shouldn’t have.” Tish took the hand warily, waiting for the hammer to fall, but it didn’t. That didn’t mean it wouldn’t later, though. Hiral and Amaye walked onto the balcony and scanned the carnage below. “Oh my God. You told us but...seeing...” Hiral started weeping and buried her head in Amaye’s chest, protected by his embrace. “Brick... did all this?”

“He did, dad, to protect us.” “Where is he?” “They took him, Mr. Owusu,” Mara answered. “Because of what he is?” “We think so.” “What next.” “We go get him, dad, and make the fuckers pay for taking him,” Tish’s lips pulled back from her teeth at just that moment. That proclamation jarred Hiral out of her state of shock, and she reacted at the same time as Mara. “Latisha, language!” “Like hell you are,” Mara interjected. “Sorry, mom,” she turned to Mara, “ And I’d like to see you stop me.” “Oh, it’s on now, bitch.” Mara, at five-foot-nine, squared off with the five-five Tish who didn’t back down one inch. “STOP,” yelled Flint again. “I see you two are bound and determined to have it out. Fine, just not in the middle of all this evidence.” Never taking her eyes off of Mara, Tish told them about the gym. Despite her parents’ warnings and pleadings, Tish took off toward the gym with Flint and Mara in tow. She wasn’t sure if her parents would come and watch, and she didn’t care. Tish needed to put a stop to Mara’s condescension. Even if she lost to the older, more experienced woman, Mara would know she’d been in a fight. The clash between Mara and Tish was monumental. They were both artists, but it was clear that Tish had the advantage, and she pressed it, driving Mara back at every engagement. At one point, Mara had gotten in a lucky shot that had snapped Tish’s head back and dazed her. She tried to press her advantage, but

Tish flew into a back somersault, lashing out a vicious kick, uppercutting Mara, driving her back. Tish finished the maneuver, landing perfectly and crouching into a fighting stance, shaking her head to clear it. She saw rage flash in Mara’s eyes. Brick’s sister was losing and desperate. Every atom in Tish’s body screamed that she was about to go hyper. Brick’s words filled her mind. It was almost as though he were there with her, urging her on. You are the most incredible, intuitive, instinctual fighter I have ever known. Trust that in yourself. Listen to that instinct, and you will become a true artist with the potential to beat anyone. She was ready. Tish closed her eyes and relaxed her body. She smelled that cinnamon and turned earth scent again coming from Mara’s direction, then it changed. An acrid scent like rancid vinegar overlaid the smell, and she knew Mara’s attack commenced. Tish balanced on the balls of her feet and reached her arms out, preparing for the attack. When it came, she was ready. Eyes still closed, she felt a rush of air, knowing it was the leading edge of Mara’s charge. It had been the same with Brick. Tish stepped to the side as Mara’s bulk brushed her outstretched arms. She used a Jiu-Jitsu move that Brick had taught her and turned Mara’s mass and momentum against her, tossing the larger woman to the other side of the gym, where she slammed against the padding on the wall, backward and upside-down. Tish opened her eyes in time to see her opponent fall to the ground, dazed. Flint had been sitting down, watching the fight, seemingly bored, but he leaped to his feet when Tish finished the fight. “What the hell just happened?” He flew to Tish’s side in an instant. “How did you do that? It’s not possible.” “What? That I beat Mara in hyper? I beat Brick once too.” “How?” Tish ignored him, “I’m gonna check on Mara, then I’ll explain,” snark dripped from her comment. She was irritated that Flint didn’t seem at all concerned with his daughter’s well-being. Once she determined that Mara was okay and helped her stand, Tish explained the encounter with Brick, just not all of the intimate details. Then she recounted what he had told her the previous night.

“She’s a natural, Dad, back off,” Mara turned to Tish, “alright Lil sis, you’re in, but you may regret it.” “Lil sis?” “Yeah. Anyone who can toss me around like a frigging rag doll in hyper deserves to be part of the family.” Mara’s acceptance made Tish smile. “What do you mean about regret?” “To get Brick back, you’ll have to do things you never thought you’d ever have to do.” “Like what Brick did last night?” “Probably worse.” “I don’t care. I love Brick, and I never told him. I’ll do whatever it takes. I’m not scared.” “Not now, but you should be because, by the time we get him back, neither one of you will ever be the same again.”

Chapter Fourteen

Tortured

Zindriya’s opinion of Smythe hadn’t improved. In fact, his recent failure had damaged it significantly. The fool had severely underestimated Brick’s abilities and had lost his entire crew. To top it off, he’d left mountains of evidence, some of which could lead back to her. She’d ordered him from the infirmary to explain his incompetence even though blood still flowed from the severe shrapnel wounds that marred his already unpleasant face. At least the smell of garlic no longer wafted from Smythe, though the aroma of piss still surrounded him like the cloud of dust from that character in the Charlie Brown cartoons. “So Venton, you managed to snatch a catastrophic failure from the victory of Brick’s abduction; explain yourself.” “I captured him alive as you asked. I didn’t hurt the family as you wanted.” Zindriya bolted out of her chair, planted her fists on the desk, and loomed over Smythe. “You bungled the whole thing, you idiot! You left a trail of clues any moron could follow. A trail that will lead back to me.” Zindriya carefully put her right foot next to the emergency switch near her desk’s leg when she sat back down. As predicted, the enraged Smythe rose to the full height of his measly 170 centimeters in a futile effort of intimidation. Bruno stepped forward and stood next to Smythe, but Zindriya gave him a barely noticeable nod, and, after a moment, he backed off. Zindriya barely caught what he had done. Bruno was very good at that sort of thing. “You sent me in there knowing what he could do, and you didn’t warn me. I lost seven of my best because of that. I was lucky to get out with my life.”

“I did warn you, you toad. You just didn’t listen, and your people got careless. Still, you did bring him to me. I suppose that’s worth something. How about I add an extra ten percent to compensate you for your trouble. Be happy with that. Your blunder will cost me much more in extra security for the attack I know will come.” “Ten percent. Ten percent? Have you lost your fragging mind? I lost seven people. You’ll double my fee, or I’ll....” “You’ll what, Venton?” Zindriya never raised her voice, yet Smythe backed down. She remained calm on the surface, but underneath she was seething. This miscreant dares to threaten me? “Nothing. I’ll take the ten percent.” “Five.” “What? You’re a real bitch, Zindriya,” Smythe said as he slapped an empty holster. She imagined that to him, the sound was as hollow as the pit that had likely opened in his stomach. Zindriya’s smile was cold and remorseless. “Until later, Venton. Thank you for saving me the Euros.” She hadn’t needed the switch after all, thanks to Bruno’s deft fingers. “And thank you for volunteering to be my muse. I hope you will be even half as entertaining as Babel was. Try not to bleed on my floor on the way out. Cheers.” Bruno grabbed Smythe and dragged him out of Zindriya’s office, kicking and screaming all the way. Zindriya’s mood had brightened significantly after the rather stimulating confrontation with Smythe. She had another muse now, her sister would soon her syndicate, and she had her cash cow and future concubinus, Brick. All she had to do was break him, then bend him to her will. He was young and strong. Once she trained him properly, he would fill her every need. It didn’t hurt that he was also moderately good-looking. She wanted to visit him. Bruno had spent the last three days conditioning the young man, getting him ready for her to ‘rescue’ him from the mean-old torturer. She would feed her own needs

while offering Brick pleasure to ease his pains. As she approached the room where Brick was imprisoned, she heard his screams over the underlying hum of a transformer. When she reached the metal door, she slid open the portal to watch. One of Bruno’s assistants was operating the transformer switch in cycles. Five seconds of power to ten seconds of peace for twelve hours straight, then the boy could rest and eat, only to begin again the next day. As she watched him, Brick looked up and stared her directly in the eyes as though he knew she was there. His eyes snapped shut, and he screamed as the transformer hummed again. Something wasn’t right. Zindriya entered the room. “You can turn off the power, Hugo. He’s faking.” Hugo wasn’t his real name. As with Bruno, she had chosen a name that she could easily . She paid her employees well, so they would answer whatever name she decided to give them. Zindriya approached Brick. “You’re using bio to create a galvanic skin response to minimize the effect of the electricity, using your sweat to complete the circuit. Impressive, Brick, I think I’m falling in love already.” Brick’s eyes grew wide when she entered, but she had anticipated the puzzled look on his face. She knew part of it was the cocktail of medications the organization had provided to block his abilities. The other part was that he was probably trying to reconcile that while her face was familiar, the rest of her was alien. Zindriya wore a black, skin-tight, leather catsuit in classic villain fashion, but minus the penultimate high-heeled boots. She detested those torture devices. She preferred black moccasins instead. Her body was in top fighting condition, and corded muscles stood out on her bare arms, a stark contrast to the sibling he was used to seeing. “No, I’m not your precious Sandra, or should I use your pet name for her.” Brick didn’t speak. He didn’t have to. Zindriya could see the anger burning in his eyes, his tensed muscles, and the rapid rising and falling of his chest. She could hear his heart rate increase. He had definitely been faking before. Who is this boy? Boy didn’t seem fitting for him now. He was a man, more of one than most she’d met. He’d killed seven trained mercenaries, two of them he had literally melted into the floor. Venton had mentioned a flash of light as he’d rounded the corner, and the girl was nowhere to be found. She couldn’t comprehend how he’d disappeared her, but she would find out eventually.

Sandra may have been right about him. Her dear sister might be useful in figuring out what Brick was truly capable of after all. “Twins. Definitely didn’t see that coming. I should have known there was a reason she was interested in me. How stupid can a guy be?” “Don’t beat yourself up too much, Brick. Your Andra actually has feelings for you, though mostly those feelings are below her belt. I even think she wants to bear your children.” “Who are you, and why am I here?” Zindriya stayed near the door as she inspected her captive. He was wearing the same jeans and blue, no-logo T-shirt from the night they had kidnapped him, and he was getting a bit whiff. His wrists and ankles were restrained with titanium shackles through rings on a titanium chair bolted to a titanium plate molecularly merged with the metal floor. Brick was much stronger than the average man. Still, the organization had assured her that with their potent drug cocktail combined with the titanium restraints, he wouldn’t be able to either escape or use his powers. So far, the precautions had held, but it had only been three days. What would happen if, or more likely when, his body overcame the drugs? Bruno entered the room and acknowledged that Smythe was secured. “Turned on Smythe, did you? Hear that, Bruno? When I escape, if I don’t kill you first, you’ll end up like Smythe. Doesn’t pay to work for a psychopath — or is it, sociopath? I get them confused, especially when they’re all wrapped up in the same twisted mind.” Zindriya ignored Brick’s tirade, “I’m Zindriya, and you are here because I want something from you.” Brick snorted, “Well, that’s a fucking waste of time. I’m giving you nothing. You got no leverage. How now, scarred cow?” Zindriya turned to Bruno, “Take Hugo with you, then return with the paddles, alone.” “At once, Zindriya.” “Nice boy toy there, Zindy. Fuck you much?”

“As a matter of fact, he does an adequate job, but I’m really looking forward to having you, Brick. My sister says that even virtually, you are quite the enthusiastic lover.” She had inserted just the right amount of seduction into the tone of her voice. She wouldn’t make any progress with Brick at that moment. The interaction was to simply plant the idea in his mind for him to mull over. “Here’s something else to consider, Brick.” Zindriya approached him, leaned over, revealed one nearly perfect breast tipped by an engorged nipple, then straddled him and began grinding as she pressed her nipple against his lips. Brick closed his eyes. She knew he was trying to hold back, but she felt him responding to her. “I am a very, very willing partner, unlike my sister and your girlfriend. I know many, many ways to please a lover. Think about that for the next few days.” She stood and covered up just before Bruno arrived with the paddles. Brick opened his eyes, and his shoulders slumped. “Ah, you recognize the paddles, don’t you, love. You copied and adapted their design to create the neural stimulation module for your AR devices. Well, I acquired them in their original form.” “Neurovex. I thought you wanted me alive. There was a reason they were mothballed, Zindy.” “I know, but we’ll be sure to keep the field saturation well below maximum. You can’t fake this time, Brick. The paddles will stimulate your nerves to tell your brain that you’re in excruciating pain,” she laughed, “with absolutely no physical damage,” she said almost gleefully, “how’s that for leverage, Brick?” Brick sat stone-faced, unresponsive, eyes closed, and breathing deeply. “Not so sure now, are you, love? Well, I’ll leave you to Bruno’s tender ministrations. He’ll supply the pain, and I’ll be back to ease it with some pleasure for both of us. Cheers, love.” Zindriya left the room but waited outside the door. When Brick started screaming again, she could tell it was for real because his heart rate had increased exponentially.

*****

❖ When Brick saw the paddles, he knew he was in for it. He was in the dark as to how Zindriya had gotten a hold of them. The organization’s connections throughout the military-industrial complex probably played a role in their acquisition of the paddles, underscoring President Eisenhower’s warning nearly a century before. That would also explain how the mercies had acquired the biometric attenuators. He thought it ironic that he’d helped DARPA with an engineering problem their scientists couldn’t figure out, and that very act would, at the very least, cause him a significant amount of pain. At worst, the Neurovex would kill him. No good deed goes unpunished; Brick mused, sourly. The three beotches of Fate were weaving their threads throughout his life, depositing irony here and treachery there. God help them if he ever caught up with them. Brick refocused on the immediate danger of the damned Neurovex. The only way to beat it was to compartmentalize his mind, section off a portion of it to use as a buffer to minimize the pain’s effects on him. He didn’t know if he could do it. Proficiency in brain compartmentalization was the most ardent task presented at Nil Parity. He’d barely ed their test back then, and he hadn’t done the exercises necessary to maintain the skill since. Stupid, but that’s the way it was. Brick could try and escape using his abilities, but he didn’t have a clue where he was or how much phasing the effort would require if he even could phase. It would definitely suck if his stamina ran out as he ed through the last three feet of the wall to freedom. Whatever had released in Brick when Smythe captured him had vanished. He could feel the breech in his mind, but it was shut tighter than a well digger’s, you know what, and nothing he tried would force it or coerce it open again. So no Akashic Field, which meant no superposition transition. If he got out of wherever he was, he had to figure out a better name for whatever he’d done to Tish. Brick missed her already. Almost three months with her in his life every day had been the closest thing to heaven he’d ever known. He had to get back to her. How long had he been their prisoner? Days? Weeks? Months? Definitely not months, but it was hard to tell with no point of reference. They controlled the

light, and the dark and the damned drugs they gave him had dulled his senses, so no internal clock to depend on. The drugs had affected his abilities somewhat, but he’d retained some of them. He couldn’t phase yet, but he had his speed and strength, which he exercised during his downtime from the shock treatments. Damn you, Brick. Focus. If you can’t compartmentalize your mind, Zindriya will eventually break you, then you’re done, and you will never be with Tish. Focus! There was also their family’s Final Option. The Redstones had decided that, if captured, the prisoner would wait for an opening to escape. Every captor got sloppy eventually, especially if you seemed compliant. When the opportunity came, the prisoner would take it, kill as many enemies as possible, try to find the communications room, squawk the location, and finally give the captors no other choice but to kill him or her. That would keep the others safe and free. Brick couldn’t do that, though. He knew how Tish would take it. She would blame herself for allowing him to be taken literally right out from under her. It would fester in her mind and soul until it destroyed her. That was her personality, and he would not let that happen. No matter what he had to do, he would find a way out, even if it meant losing her in the end because of his actions. She’d at least be able to move on without him, and she wouldn’t bear the burden of guilt surrounding his loss. Brick had a plan, but could he actually accomplish it? Could he turn the tables on Zindriya and do to her what she was trying to do to him? Was he capable of that level of treachery? Who would he be afterward? Would Tish even be able to trust him again? Would he be able to trust himself? Would Mara? His dad? Pops? Hiral? Thinking of how his surrogate mother might end up despising him filled Brick with grief. He didn’t want to lose her or Tish, but if he pulled off his impossibly insane plan, at least the loss would be under his control and not Zindriya’s. As he considered his options, few choices remained, and all of them were bad. Brick would have to resolve all of those issues before he proceeded. He had to choose the victorious warrior’s path this time because he ended up as a prisoner the last time. Tish had been both right and wrong when she’d told him that sometimes the old proverbs didn’t apply. Her statement immediately validated that the obverse must also be true; that most times they did.

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, recalling the lessons his teacher had drilled into his mind and soul at Nil Parity. Brick delved deeply into his memory, burying his consciousness so far into his subconscious that when his body responded to the application of the paddles, the screams and the pain seemed muffled and distant. He found his answer, Brick knew what he must do and how to do it, but for a moment, he feared he wouldn’t be able to find his way back out of his subconscious. Then he realized that all he had to do was follow the sound of his own screams.

Chapter Fifteen

Invulnerable

“It’s been three months, Mara, and we know where he is. Why aren’t we hitting that house?” Springtime was beautiful in Colorado and especially out on the rolling hills east of Colorado Springs. Flowers bloomed under the partly cloudy sky and cool temperatures. A soft breeze caressed the landscape, carrying sounds of roaring lions from the nearby wildlife rescue preserve. Tish and Mara lay belly down on newly-sprouted grass, one ridge over from the canyon where Zindriya’s hideout rested. “That house, as you call it, is a frigging fortress, Lil sis. You may be invincible, but I’m not, and we need more intel before we hit the place. It won’t do to get killed before we even get started.” “But Brick has been in that bitch’s clutches all this time. He needs us to rescue him, and here we are lounging on the top of a canyon wall, just doing nothing.” “We’re tracking the comings and goings, looking for a weakness in their security to exploit. The house is built into the canyon wall, Tish.” They had no idea how far into the bedrock it went or how many changes Zindriya had made. They still didn’t know the enemy’s numbers, their weaponry, or their security countermeasures. Mara’s people had scoured the plans of the original home and any upgrades so they could accurately assess any structural complications. “Have you found any EM signals to monitor or hack?” “Not yet, Mara.”

“That means that whatever they’re using is hard-wired. Old school but unhackable, unless—Come on, let’s go. I got an idea.” They returned to their hotel room for some equipment. Mara had power sensing equipment and an old-fashioned metal detector. If they were running hard-wired countermeasures, there had to be a network hub somewhere. If they could find it or them, they could disable the entire network with a simple pair of bolt cutters. Old school may not be hackable, but it was easy to subvert with the right tools. Mara had learned that from a more senior operative she had pity-screwed. She had told Tish that it had begun as a pity screw, but the oldtimer nearly blew the top of her head off with his mad sexual skills. Tish still felt deflated and leaned on the fender of her Subaru. She and Mara were on the east end of Calhan, in a small park across from the El Paso County Fairgrounds, ignoring their Bulldog Burgers and fries. Neither of them was too hungry because, since Brick’s abduction, all food tasted like sawdust. Still, they forced themselves to eat to keep their strength up, and they sparred together to keep their skills honed for when they either rescued Brick or avenged his death. Tish had changed a lot over the last few months. The light-hearted, snarky college senior had vanished, and a warrior-huntress had emerged. While the trail had been hot, she and Mara had knocked down doors and busted heads, attempting to find out what had happened and who had taken Brick. The investigation fell to Tish and Mara because Flint had checked out, citing some uber-secret project he needed to complete. They hadn’t seen or heard from him in two months, except for the occasional phone call asking for progress or forwarding information from their cyber-hunters. They could access s in several international intelligence agencies through Flint and Mara’s company to track Smythe and Zindriya’s movement. They knew she had come to the Colorado Springs area, and then she had gone to ground. No one had seen neither hide nor hair of her since. Smythe had followed shortly after, and he was much easier to track. He had frequented a dive of a bar in Peyton, Colorado, to the east of Colorado Springs. That was the second place they had visited after dropping in on Sandra Bennet. Through one of their agency s, they received an extremely grainy profile image of Zindriya. Despite the picture’s poor condition, Tish instantly recognized that the woman with the scar on her face bore a striking resemblance

to Professor Sandra Bennett. That grainy photograph coalesced all the clues that had been rummaging around in her mind. The smile she had shot to Brick, the secret girlfriend he’d broken up with, the late-night rendezvous he had to leave for, the impromptu meetings with just him for updates on their project all made sense now. Professor Bennet had been the go-between, setting the landscape for the abduction. It was time to pay her a notso-pleasant visit. When Tish and Mara had gone to the good Professor Bennett’s house, not only was she already gone, she had left a booby trap. Tish spotted the mass of wires and high explosives first and had reacted with lightning speed. A moment before the firebomb erupted, Tish threw Mara from the upstairs window, planting her thirty feet past the edge of the house, ensuring her escape from serious injury. Tish was certain she would die in the flames but found that while the house burned down around her, she was untouched, covered by a golden light, like a shield. She heard Mara screaming for her and crying. Mara was crying for her. Mara? When she exited the house, Mara ran up to her but stopped short of hugging her. Tish assumed that the heat from the inferno still cascaded from the shield. She ed what Brick had told her in her dream, that nothing could ever hurt her again. He’d meant it literally. Somehow he had changed her. That explained her increased strength and her enhanced senses as well. Since that day, she had tested that theory time and again in their futile search for Venton Smythe, who had also seemed to have disappeared. Tish found that her invulnerability automatically activated when she was in danger and didn’t seem to draw on her own energy as the Ghost abilities did for Brick and his family. She had no idea how it worked, how long it would last, or how Brick had done it. While she had this invulnerability, though, she would use it to find him. ❖

*****

❖

Tish had torn through all of Smythe’s known associates at the bar, but no one knew where he was or where he had lived until she had found a man named Krieger over two months into their search. He had confessed to having run with Smythe for a while until his fear of the crazy woman they worked for made him cut all ties to the man. He wouldn’t buckle to any physical pressure from either Tish or Mara. He was willing to be bribed, however, but not with money. He wanted to have sex with Tish, and then he would give them information on where Zindriya’s base of operations was. Tish struggled with the decision. She didn’t want to betray Brick, but time was running out, and if the man had information that would cut the time shorter, she had to do what was necessary. She agreed to his . She would meet him at the bar in Peyton, dressed to kill, then they would drive in his car to wherever they were going to complete the transaction. That part went smoothly. When they arrived at the motel room, she stripped so that Krieger could search her for tracking devices. She kept still, closed her eyes, and shut her mind off while he conducted his very personal and extremely thorough inspection. Satisfied with his search, he let Tish call Mara using his burner phone while he sniffed, then licked his moist fingers. Once he revealed Zindraya’s whereabouts, Tish ed the information to Mara, who immediately drove to the location. It had been one of the recent purchases her team had been looking at as the most likely prospect. The site was prime, and the purchase had been in cash shortly after the demise of the entire family. Mara agreed that it was probably the lair. Tish hung up the phone and turned to face Krieger. She would go through with her end of the bargain. Krieger, however, had other plans. He liked it rough and had brought friends. As the men grabbed her and held her down, spread-eagled on the bed, she remained strangely calm. That scared her more than what the men had planned. “It doesn’t have to be like this, Krieger.” “Oh yeah, it does bitch,” he said, panting, sounding almost like a hyena. Then he slapped her. She barely even felt it. Mara hit harder than this guy. She almost laughed, ing that Brick used to say the same thing. What would he think of her whoring herself to find him? Would he even want her after this? What will she think of herself? If he’s even..., I can’t think like that. I have to believe he’s alive...; when they got him back, at least he’d have the choice of

staying or leaving. Right now, he had no choice. Krieger struggled with the zipper on his pants. Tish looked him in the eyes and spoke calmly, almost soothingly, “Send the others away, and I’ll honor our deal. I’ll do whatever you want me to.” “You’re gonna do what we all want you to anyway, fucking slut,” he looked at one of his buddies, “Whip it out, son and fill her mouth up so she won’t talk so much,” Krieger laughed at his own stupid joke. “Last chance, Krieger. Send them away, and you can have me any way you like.” He’d finally gotten his zipper opened, and he pulled out his limp phallus. “This is your fault with all your jabber, bitch. I’m gonna have to beat it out of you now.” “So be it,” said Tish in a voice that echoed, frightening even her. Her skin flashed golden, and the men began to scream. Once she finished with her supposed rapists, Tish stumbled to the bathroom, washed the blood and gore from her body, then dressed. She took Krieger’s phone, the keys to his car, turned the temperature on the air conditioner down to its lowest setting and left, closing the door behind her. Before leaving, she stopped by the office to pay for another week, telling the attendant that they wouldn’t need any services for the room during that time. Tish made sure she unplugged the poorly placed camera as she walked into the office. There were no others that she could see. They could return later and degauss the cheap security system to wipe any local recordings clean, an easy fix since there was no wifi or cloud connection. Tish walked to Krieger’s car and promptly vomited on the ground behind it. After she finished, she leaned on the trunk to gather her strength. Then the tears flowed as the grief and disgust at what she’d done finally hit her. She couldn’t believe that she was capable of such debauchery, such evil, such violence. She had no idea a human body could hold so much blood. Intellectually she knew that the human body held five liters on average, one and a half gallons, and there had been five of them. She had to use the blankets and bedsheets to mop up enough of it to get from the shower to the door without leaving a bloody trail from the room to the stairs. Tish didn’t even

everything that had happened. It was as though she had partially blacked out, and a demon had taken over her body. She had spared no one and had not held back. Tish recalled scattered flashbacks of scenes and emotions, like watching damaged, incomplete frames from an old reel-to-reel movie. Mostly she ed spending all of her rage on them for every bit of abuse and misogyny she’d suffered her entire life. They used to call it venting one’s spleen or something like that. It had been more like Tish had vented all of their spleens. That thought nearly brought on another round of dry heaves. Not only am I a whore, but I’m also a serial killer. She wasn’t technically a whore because she hadn’t had sex with any of them. Maybe not, but they all got fucked, though, didn’t they? The tears threatened to flow again, but Tish clamped down on it, got in the car, and began the long drive west, back to the Redstone home. She called Mara on the way and told her what had happened. She had expected Mara to be ecstatic about her slaughter of the not so innocents, but the first thing out of her mouth had been, Are you okay? That initiated a crying fit so strong that Tish had to pull over. She hadn’t expected sympathy from Mara; she had expected a suck it up speech or something like it. “Where are you, Lil sis. I’ll come to you. We need to ditch the car anyway.” Tish had stopped at the convenience store on the corner of Willamette and Union, right across from the Olympic Training Center. Mara arrived ten minutes later. She surprised Tish by pulling her from the car and into a tight, warm, and wonderful hug, whispering in her ear that everything would be okay; that she was family, like the sister she’d always wanted, just with one hell of an edge. After what seemed like an hour, Tish felt better. They drove almost a mile down Willamette until they found two car shops across the street from each other. Business must have been good because cars were parked along the road and also down the cross streets. They left Krieger’s car amongst the vehicles parked along the street, knowing it would remain undiscovered for quite a while. Once they got home, Tish took a long, cleansing bath and fell into a fitful sleep in Brick’s bed, where she had been sleeping since they had begun the search. His scent, like being on the beach with just a hint of sandalwood, was deeply embedded in his mattress and eventually calmed her nerves. She dreamed of the

two of them on a picnic in the middle of a closely-cropped lawn that stretched for miles under a lavender sky with a bright, blue sun shining down on them. ❖

*****

❖ Tish and Mara were back at the canyon house, just after dark, wearing what Mara had called biometric attenuators. Supposedly they masked the life signs of the wearer, making them undetectable by every sense except sight. Mara ed an EM field detector back and forth, tracing buried cables. It didn’t take long for them to find the first cable on the canyon floor and track it back to a subsidiary junction box. From there, they followed it back to another box, then another. As they ed each box, the signal grew stronger, indicating that the cabling had increased or grown more prominent as they climbed up the walls to the top of the canyon. They would soon find the primary network box and then the trunk line into the house. Once they discovered that they could subvert the system. Tish had to wear starlight goggles so she could see. She may have been invulnerable and had enhanced hearing and sense of smell, but she didn’t have night vision as Brick and Mara did. She guessed Brick didn’t see that ability as having been necessary. She caught herself in that snarky thought and onished herself for it. The man had literally given everything he had to make sure no one could ever hurt her, and she was being bitchy about not having night vision? Talk about ungratefulness. After another hour, they had located the primary junction box, the central hub, and what had to be the main trunk line trailed off beyond it. Tish and Mara were on top of the canyon wall into which the house had been built. There was a hatch nearby that granted access to the main house. Fortunately, it was part of the original design and had been in the plans the cyber team had hacked. Mara stood guard while Tish unearthed the box and the trunk line to see what they were dealing with.

So far, they had escaped detection, but after four hours, the attenuators’ power cells were getting low on fuel. It took a lot of energy to mask a human body, and they needed to change out their fuel cells or call it a night. Tish was ready to refuel and return. She wanted Brick back as soon as possible, but Mara said no. They had the beginning of a plan, but they needed more intel on what waited for them inside the house. It was likely a maze, and they needed to know how many troops they were up against to assemble a large enough rescue team. If they went in with guns blazing without knowing Brick’s exact location and his current condition, the enemy might kill him before they could complete the rescue. Mara had been right all those months ago. Tish was scared of what they would find when they rescued Brick. He had been in Zindriya’s clutches for a long time. She might have been able to turn him, brainwash him into helping her. Maybe she had messed up his mind and made him fall in love with her. Maybe he had renewed his relationship with Sandra Bennett, the good professor. Tish had worried about it; she had lost sleep over it, but there was nothing she could do but get him back and go from there. Tish covered up the box and ed Mara. They were preparing to leave when the hatch opened.

Chapter Sixteen

Cycles

Brick lay in bed, hands behind his head, Zindriya’s warm body next to him, as his mind drifted back to the beginning of his captivity in Zindriya’s fortress stronghold. ❖

*****

❖ When Brick had begun to emerge from the depths of his mind, he’d heard the screams erupting from his own throat, but they and the pain felt distant, almost detached. Once he resumed control of his body once more, he experienced agony like none he’d ever known or imagined. Brick had encountered torture before, but this went far beyond that. Every nerve in his body told him that fire burned his skin. No level of mental control would help, and nothing else existed outside of that universe of pain. When the agony finally ended an eternity later, Brick felt drained and on the edge of panic. He was having a hard time even thinking. He didn’t know if he could handle more, but what choice did he have? He still couldn’t phase, and hyper wouldn’t help. Or would it? Even titanium had a breaking point, but using hyper to vibrate them would make too much noise; it might take too long, and he’d have to hope all four shackles would break at the same time. Bruno left the room, and Zindriya entered. He was grateful. At least the pain would end for the day. For a second, he thought it was Sandra, but it turned out to be Zindriya wearing the same skirt and blouse Sandra had worn

when they had begun their affair. Then, when she got closer, the scar confirmed it. She leaned forward, braced her hands on his knees, and kissed him lightly on the lips. Then she whispered into his ear in a calm, soothing, almost loving tone, “I’m so sorry Bruno caused you so much pain, Brick. I told him no more than fifteen minutes. Don’t worry, my love, I will take care of you now.” She kissed his neck just where he was most sensitive, and, in his weakened mental state, he responded. Zindriya was there now, and the pain had stopped. Maybe she wasn’t so bad after all. She unzipped his pants, pulled him out, and gently wrapped her lips around him. She had said she was very talented, and Zindriya had not exaggerated. When she brought Brick to full readiness, she straddled, then lowered herself onto him. She hadn’t been wearing underwear under Sandra’s skirt, either. Brick had gone a long time without physical sex, and with the endorphins that were coursing through him, the earlier ordeal had seemed a long way off. The next several cycles, days, or whatever, the process repeated itself. The intensity of the pain had driven away almost all of his will to resist. Brick’s plan to divide his mind was still there but cowered beneath the overwhelming layers of agony from the thrice-damned Neurovex while Zindriya appeared at the end of each session to replace the pain with pleasure. Brick’s captors controlled his day and night, but finally, he had a repetitive cycle to reference, some sort of framework to which his logic could cling. Brick still had no idea how long he’d been Zindriya’s prisoner, but at least he could count the cycles of pain and pleasure from that point on. With it came a better grasp of his artificial, forced reality. He’d clung to fragments of his sanity by his cracked and bleeding fingernails, and the reassertion of logic and some sense of time age helped significantly. As each cycle ed, he assumed more control over his mind despite the wrenching, soul-crushing agony. The memory of Tish got Brick through the day half of the cycle, and the reality with Zindriya got him through what ed for the night. Ten cycles in, he rediscovered what he was supposed to do, but he couldn’t how. Brick had not resisted his captors at all, and they finally allowed him to shower without a bodyguard instead of hosing him down like a wild animal. After twenty cycles, he ed how to initiate his plan and began compartmentalizing his mind, leaving the part falling for Zindriya on the surface

while the rest of his psyche dove deeply into his subconscious and watched from a distance. Brick lay in wait and controlled his doppelganger from the safety of his subconscious, where the pain was at least manageable. At first, Brick and Zindriya’s sexual sessions had been with her in complete control. They had never made love; it was more like rutting, raw and animalistic, and always with a bit of pain mixed in to supposedly enhance the pleasure. It was like screwing a bobcat, with all the bites and scratches to show for it. On cycle twenty-five, though, she had spent the night in his prison chamber with shackles only on his ankles. Brick urged his alter ego to take more control during Zindriya’s pleasure cycles, giving as much as he received. Thirty cycles brought back his ability to phase. His metabolism had finally fought off the drugs they had been giving him, but he still couldn’t access the Field. He was, however, getting through to Zindriya. He could sense the change in her, first through her scent and then through the way she treated him. They had gradually evolved to a give and take but still with her in charge. It was time to make his big move, the one that would end the pain for good. Even though most of his mind remained partially detached, the pain still nagged at him. He felt sorry for what his alter ego was going through and could understand how he could see Zindriya as his savior. However, the part that lay sequestered within his subconscious, his core psyche, despised her for the psychotic human she was and longed to be with Tish once again. When Bruno left after his part of cycle thirty, Brick smiled at Zindriya, then stood up, phasing free from the chains. Zindriya’s fear manifested immediately, and she opened her mouth to scream for help. Brick went hyper, crossed the short distance in an instant, and placed a hand over her mouth, whispering that he had no intention of harming her because he was in love with her. “How long have you been able to phase?” “About a week now,” Brick lied, “I wanted to prove to you that I loved you.” “So, you don’t want me dead?” “No, Zee, I want you in bed—as equals.” Brick had only seen Zindriya truly smile once, and it had been the previous night when his alter had given her multiple orgasms. She smiled that smile again, then

guided him to her quarters as Bruno glared at him, firing psionic daggers from his eyes. That night was like sex with a bobcat while riding a rollercoaster. Brick rethought that. It had actually been more like intercourse with a Klingon woman; porn, WWE, and UFC all wrapped up in the same bundle. From cycle thirty to thirty-nine, Zindriya had brought others into the bedchamber to enhance pleasure for both of them supposedly. However, on cycle forty, everything changed for the better since it was the last cycle he had to survive the Neurovex. When they entered her chambers, she closed and locked the door, then turned to him and said something he’d never thought he’d hear her say. “Brick, all I’ve ever done is fuck. No one has ever made love to me. I want to know what that’s like. Make love to me softly, slowly, and gently.” She kissed him as a lover would, not a dominatrix. He made love to her that night and every night after because she preferred it more than the other way. Brick knew she was falling in love with him, and the part of his mind that remained on the surface was already deeply in love with her. His core, however, was still repulsed by the very thought of what was going on, had always been, so he closed his inner mind to it and let his alter ego, his Alter Brick, or A.B., do what he needed to do. At some point, he would have to resume control and deal with Zindriya when he broke her heart. Eventually, if his plans worked, he would also have to face Tish and try to explain everything he’d done to get back to her. She’d likely walk out on him, and rightfully so, but at least she would have the choice. She wouldn’t have to live with the guilt of his death weighing down her soul. That would be a victory for him, a bitter one, yes, but a victory nonetheless. A quote from one of his favorite Robin Williams movies came to mind; Sometimes, when you win, you lose. And sometimes, when you lose, you win. Sixty cycles had ed, and Brick had access to the vast, underground complex, but not the upper levels. Bruno was nearly apoplectic, but he wouldn’t betray Zindriya. Brick submerged his alter ego during the day and allowed it to emerge at night to deal with Zindriya and her incessant demands. He slowly but surely worked on her to take down the organization that had hired her before they discovered what she was doing. She had agreed to think about it if Brick began work on Zero-Point Energy technology. He immediately said he would.

Earlier, Sandra had informed him that Zindriya would be interested in it and that she would help. She had fully integrated with her sister’s syndicate and was working her way up, slowly gaining the of a portion of the staff. Brick knew that something was going to happen soon between the twins. He also knew that Sandra wasn’t even close to being prepared to overthrow Zindriya. Her sister was too sadistically cunning for that to happen. He wasn’t going to say anything to her, though, because, in his mind, she would get what was coming to her. She was partly responsible for his capture. Brick understood that thought was uncharacteristic for him, at least for the person he used to be. He had grown much harder, and he wasn’t sure he liked being that way. He still had that core of goodness within, but he no longer worried about the methods he would use to achieve it. Someday he would have to ask himself some difficult questions, but the present was not the time, not with what he still had to do. He would need that tough shell to get through it all. Brick wondered what was going on in the outside world and what was going on with Tish and Mara and his dad. He figured his father and sister were looking for him, and maybe they had even found where he was. He couldn’t do anything to help, though. Zindriya may have let go of the collar, but Bruno and his close-knit crew still held the leash. Brick couldn’t make a move without one of them watching, and they were good, really good. Most of the time, he could only detect them by scent. So he remained a good boy so long as Zindriya would help him take down the organization. He would use her to do it and clean up the mess later. Brick had convinced himself that he was okay with that. Occasionally, he actually believed it. Seventy cycles in, and Zindriya finally gave him access to the outside world via the internet, though he remained confined within the complex. That was when Brick had found out for sure that nearly three months had ed since his capture. Though his mind had assumed as much, the reality still rocked him. He wondered if anyone was still looking for him, or had they given him up for dead? What was going on with his sister and his dad? What was going on with Tish? Mom and Pops? Brick needed to make a move. He could escape now that he knew where he was, but that would accomplish nothing. He would lose the advantage of being an insider, and they would simply move their operation or strike back. He would also lose all of the information Zindriya had on the organization. So, as much as he hated it, he would complete his mission. Brick and Sandra had made a breakthrough with the Zero-Point project. They

were close. Some of their tests had been successful, but the module they had created failed within hours. Still, while it functioned, the laptop-sized generator had created enough power to light up a city block. That same day, Sandra prepared her forces to move against Zindriya. She tried to enlist Brick in her coup attempt. He had no choice but to betray Sandra. It was the only way to prevent a civil war within the syndicate. He captured the professor before she could initiate her coup attempt and secretly ushered her to Zee, Brick argued for her immediate execution, but Zindriya ordered her twin sister to the lower dungeon. Smythe had finally died, and she needed a new muse. The look on Sandra’s face devastated Brick. He couldn’t let it happen. He took a chance on blowing his cover and did something uncharacteristic. He offered to participate in the torture of Professor Sandra Bennett. Zindriya had been ecstatic that Brick wanted to take part. She confessed she had concerns that Sandra's infatuation with him might win him over to her side. However, his volunteering to help with her new muse when he had declined with Smythe cemented her feelings for him. She felt that they had truly become partners. She was a master at the art of torture, and though Sandra’s screams tore at Brick’s very soul, Zindriya went about her business with a clinical detachment that bordered on the insane. All the while, she described everything she did as though she were recording her ministrations into an official record for the sake of posterity. After two hours of endless screams from the woman on the table, Zindriya turned Sandra over to Brick and explained what she wanted him to do. Brick submerged most of his psyche behind the protective wall, and, under his control, A.B. took over. When Zindriya turned her back on him to grab another tool from the table of stainless steel torture devices, Brick stuck his heel out just enough to catch Zindriya’s toe when she turned back around. She whipped her hand out to steady herself and, in the process, shoved Brick. His scalpel slipped and opened the artery in Sandra’s armpit. She bled out in minutes despite Zindriya’s attempts to save her. Brick apologized for being so careless, and surprisingly, she was okay with it. Zee had confessed to having second thoughts about torturing her sister and that he had saved her the trouble of dealing with the conundrum.

After they left Sandra’s body for Bruno to deal with, Brick excused himself to go to the bathroom. He threw up everything that had been in his stomach. He felt no more sympathy for what he was going to do to Zindriya. She undoubtedly deserved it. Zindriya had revealed things about the organization, its structure, and who was a part of the hierarchy. There was no central governing body; it functioned as a cooperative with the ultimate goal of world domination, using genetically altered soldiers. The Redstone family had slowed them down, but their plan remained the same. They would have their Eugenics War one way or another. That’s why they wanted Brick. They had deduced that his DNA would be the key to their ultimate army. Did any of these people watch Star Trek? Did they even know who Khan Noonien Singh was and what he almost did? Sure it had been fiction, but as society had seen so many times before, art really did imitate life and sometimes even predicted the future. The organization was a collection of individual cells that kept in touch virtually. None were ever in the same place at the same time. They occasionally collaborated on large projects, like the lab they used to convert the Redstones into Ghosts, but it didn’t happen often. Brick’s family had always worked under the assumption that the organization they hunted had a central governing body and existed as one single entity. With everything he’d learned, there had never been any way his family could ever have taken down the organization that had ruined their lives. He needed Zindriya and her collection of misfits if he was ever going to make any headway against their mutual enemy. The sad part of it all was that they might never completely eradicate the organization. Maybe not, but we can damn sure put a major hurt on them. He would have to keep his defenses up and A.B. in place. His core wasn’t in any danger of falling for the psychotic woman, but what damage was maintaining the A.B. persona doing to him? He had to stand by and let her continue brutalizing people whenever she had the desire or need. At first, he had silently railed against her brutality but had slowly become almost numb to it. ❖

*****

❖ Was Brick losing himself in an obsession? Was he becoming Captain Ahab? Was the obsession more important than even life? More important than Tish? Or Mara? This was one dark frigging rabbit hole he was falling into. He just hoped he could crawl out someday and find that at least a little of who he had once been would be there waiting for him, arms outstretched, welcoming him back. But back to what? To a past that no longer existed or a future as uncertain as the transient whims of the Fates? The only way to endure this was to move forward, cross this last hurdle, and forge a new future from the tattered remnants of the present with Tish. If she’ll have me.

Was redemption just a fantasy seen through rose-colored glass? Was the glass really rose-colored or simply smeared with dried blood thinned by all the tears loved ones shed over the dead who had unwillingly bequeathed it? Who would he be after it was all over? The question weighed heavily on his mind, and the fact that he couldn’t even begin to answer it made him feel as though he were teetering on the edge of the Marianas Trench as the rock crumbled beneath his feet.

Chapter Seventeen

Day Four

Brick collected information from Zindriya’s cyber team about the current whereabouts of the nearest cell. The organization his family had been chasing for years called themselves Cleddyf, which is Welsh for sword. Sword of what? Damocles? Judgment? Vengeance? Insanity? Murder? It seemed as though some idiot plucked a name from the aether and pasted it on a shingle for no other reason than it sounded cool and enigmatic. In his opinion, it fell far short of both. Regardless, Brick was thankful that he finally had a name for the cabal that had destroyed his family. I know your name now, serpent. I’ll be coming for all of you. You’ll pay for what you did to my mother. Historically, knowing someone’s true name gave you power over them. Occultists believed that using a creature’s true name summoned it and gave you control of it. In ancient Egyptian mythology, Isis tricked Ra into revealing his true name to keep him from killing her son Horus and ensure he would one day possess Ra’s power. Likely the most well-known case of a true name equaling dominance over the owner was the Grimm’s fairy tale of Rumpelstiltskin. Brick felt renewed because having a name meant he had a bullseye to aim for instead of some nebulous, nondescript, amorphous mass with no vital organs. As he walked back to the office he shared with Zindriya, he felt a feathery yet familiar touch on the surface of his mind. Brick circled the area, trying to determine from which direction it had come. He followed this signal to one of the fortress’s outer walls, and the touch became a caress. It was Mara, and she was close. They had found him! He could hardly contain his excitement. Brick could phase through the wall and be with his father and sister right that very moment.

But that would mean losing Zindriya’s help with destroying Cleddyf and turning her and her not insubstantial resources into instant and way too proximate adversaries. Colorado Springs would become a war zone. If Mara and his dad were close, they were either about to attack or were surveilling the complex, trying to find its weaknesses; perhaps attempting to subvert its security countermeasures. They had no idea that what they had likely found were cleverly disguised decoys. The actual defenses were a part of the front of the house behind fascia designed to conceal them from even the most skilled observers. They were walking into a trap. He had to do something without tipping his hand to Zindriya. He had only one choice. It was a long shot and depended on Zindriya’s ignorance of the details of his capture. Smythe had been sketchy on the specifics, likely trying to hide the blatant errors he and his team had made from what she had told him. Brick returned to Zindriya’s office and told her what he suspected. She was ready to call out all of her troops to surround the canyon wall and box Mara and his dad in, but Brick had a different plan. The two of them would go through the hatch and confront Mara while they sent a small contingent around behind them to cut off an escape and to make sure their presence wasn’t the vanguard of an all-out assault. If it turned out to be a full attack, sending all of the troops out at once would leave them exposed and defenseless. Zindriya agreed that it was a good plan and followed him to the upper hatch. A simple double slide bolt connected to a ring in the center similar to those you might see on submarine portals secured the hatch. Maintenance technicians regularly oiled the mechanism and the hinges to ensure they would work as smoothly and silently as possible. Brick spun the ring, opened the hatch, and stuck his head out. ❖

*****

❖

When the hatch opened, Mara and Tish had nowhere to hide, so they prepared for battle. Mara was about to go hyper and take down the first person to exit the hatch when Brick popped his head out with a broad smile on his face, one hand on the lip of the hatch and the other holding the lid up. “Well, hello ladies, fancy seeing you here.” “Brick!” Tish was about to run to him when Mara stopped her with a firm grip on her elbow and whispered, “No, Tish. Look at the hand on the lip.” “What about it,” Tish whispered back. “It’s one of our family hand signals. His thumb is sticking out between the index and middle fingers. He’s undercover.” Brick used the thumb to scratch his right cheek. “Hey, Lil bro.” “What’s going on, lover? Who’s there?” Brick told Zindriya who it was and began to climb out of the hatch slowly. “Scratching his cheek means deep cover, Tish. You’re gonna see and hear some things you won’t like, but you have to play off of what Brick says and does. If you don’t, we’re all dead. There will be troops coming up behind us.” “Things? Like what?” “No time to explain, just go with it, Tish, or we’re finished.” Once Brick was out of the hatch, he turned and helped another woman who was the spitting image of Sandra Bennett, with one glaring exception. “Zindriya,” growled Tish as she tried to move forward, but Mara’s grip held, for the moment. Brick stepped in front of Zindriya at the same time, holding his arms out in a plea for peace. “Whoa, Tish. It’s all good. We’re all friends here for the moment.”

“Friends? Are you cra....” “TISH!” Mara was thankful that her shout stopped Tish. This whole thing could go south real fast. She had to find out what Brick’s angle was, and fast before Tish went nuclear on everyone. “So, Lil bro, the chick who kidnapped you is now our friend? How so?” “Because I can help you bring down Cleddyf.” “Who the fuck is Claydeef, Brick,” Tish demanded, ignoring Zindriya. He spoke softly to Zindriya, presumably to ask her to let him handle it because she took a half-step back and threaded her fingers through his. Mara felt Tish tense up. She squeezed her elbow. “Cleddyf is the name of the organization we’ve been chasing forever. It’s Welsh for...” “Sword. Yeah, I got it. Why do we need her,” Mara asked, pointing her chin at Zindriya. “Zee has detailed intel on Cleddyf. It isn’t a single entity as we thought. It’s a collection of cells that can operate individually or as a cooperative.” “Zee, huh? How do you know she’s not lying to you, Lil bro?” “Because I’m in love with Brick, and he with me. I have no secrets from him. He’s essentially been running our syndicate for almost a month now.” “Zat true, Lil bro?” “You heard what she said, Mara. Why would she lie?” He evaded the question. I wonder if Tish caught it? She had her answer when the tension in Tish’s arm diminished slightly. Mara felt it was safe to let her go, then decided against it. Instead, she dropped her hand to Tish’s and grasped it firmly.

“So you’re with that bitch now,” Tish said. Brick held Zindriya back, “No, Zindriya. Leave her be.” “Do you still have feelings for that child, Brick?” “A part of me will always have feelings for Tish. That part may be buried deep inside me,” Brick made a point of glaring at Mara, “but it’s still there, Zee,” His eyes turned back to Zindriya, “Out here, where it counts, I’m with you.” “Then why can’t I.... “ “Because I don’t know how I’d feel if you killed her. That’s why.” Damn, Lil bro. You actually did it, didn’t you? You split your mind and buried your true self. And you made that cow fall in love with you. It’s gonna be hell pulling you back from this one. “Fine. I’ll let it go for you, love, but only just.” “Thank you.” “Don’t thank me yet. The night is still young.” Brick turned and kissed her lightly on the lips. Zindriya clamped her hand behind his neck and kissed him back, hard. Her eyes were open and flinging daggers at Tish the whole time. Mara hoped she would keep it together. The kiss ended, and Brick faced them again. “Here’s the deal.” They would combine their forces and go after Cleddyf. Zindriya had located three cells while the Redstones had located two cells they had thought to be only shell companies posing as cross docks for merchandise. Mara revealed that they had discovered a third facility since Brick’s capture. Zindriya’s more extensive intelligence network had determined that there were likely no more than twenty cells of various sizes and functions. Destroying six of them would be a massive blow to their cooperative as a whole, but it had to be done simultaneously. Cleddyf was organized so well that the rest of the cells would mobilize and go to

ground within minutes of the first attack. While Zindriya had superiority in numbers, the Redstones had the advantage in technology. She would need access to that tech to track large personnel movements, energy signatures, web and radio chatter for clues. Her cyber unit had algorithms for that, just not access to the satellite tech necessary to deploy them. Mara agreed to allow two of Zindriya’s cyber warriors to access their network in the Redstone facility under heavy guard and supervised by their own cyber team. They couldn’t complete specific details of the attack until they gathered more Intel, so they arranged a future meeting in a neutral place to work out the final plans. The discussions were winding down, but Brick acted like he had some unfinished business with Tish. It began with an argument between him and Zindriya in hushed voices. Mara heard him tell her that he had to get it off of his chest once and for all. “Hey, Tish. Been a long three days, hasn’t it?” “Yeah. So.” “After you asked me to screw you on the couch, you turned on me, saying you wanted a piece of my ass over that Brantley shit.” “That was your fault. You knew how I felt about him.” “Yeah, but you still let me, though, didn’t you? Then you got all butt-hurt over it.” “You took advantage of me, you sonofabitch. You knew, and you did it anyway.” “Yeah. And you liked it.” “You’re an asshole.” Both of their faces contorted into masks of rage. Mara couldn’t tell if the two of them were Oscar-class actors or if the confrontation was real. She was worried. “I’m the asshole? You used me to make yourself feel better, then blamed me for taking what you offered. Then all you could think about was getting back at me. You wanted a piece of my ass and challenged me. that?”

“Yeah, asshole, and you bitched out and got kidnapped. Bet you set it all up so you wouldn’t have to face me. You ran off to get with that haggard old sow over there. Can’t handle my young shit, huh? Scared of what I’d do to you?” “Oh no, princess. We can reschedule day four for sometime after we take down Cleddyf. Then you can try all you want to take a piece of my ass.” “I promise you. I’m gonna collect what you owe me for damn sure. When I’m done with you, you’ll regret every minute, every second. I’m not the weak little girl I once was.” “Won’t make any difference, princess.” “I’m not your frigging princess, asshole.” Brick glared at Tish’s and Mara’s clasped hands. “And you, dear sister. Didn’t take you long to move in, did it?” “Somebody had to fill the void you left, Brick, and you obviously weren’t up to it, little punk-ass negro.” “Frigging hag. So much for trust. So much for family.” Brick turned away from them and back to Zindriya. “O-o-o-o. Trouble in paradise, lover? Problems with your ex and your sister? Guess you know where they stand now, don’t you?” “Don’t matter. I got you now. My ex-sister and ex-whatever can go screw themselves and each other.” Brick turned his head to look at Tish. “Guess we have a deal?” “Got that right, asshole. Until day four.” Zindriya piped up, “You won’t be kissing to seal this one, lover.” “No need to, Zee. I’m pretty sure we both know exactly how we feel about each

other. Don’t we Tish?” “Damn straight.” Zindriya fired one last zinger. “So that you know, Brick is oh so very good at filling all of my voids. I suggest that the problem lay more with you than with him.” Brick helped Zindriya climb back into the hatch and followed her in, closing it behind them. “Let’s go, Tish. Too many insects around here.” They traced their way back down the canyon wall, past the retreating soldiers, and got in their car, ready to leave for the Redstone house back in The Springs. Before they left, Mara ed a detector over Tish and then handed it to her for her own inspection. Both of them were clean. Once inside the car, Mara activated a white noise device to block distance surveillance, just in case, then began driving. “Oh God, Mara. He still loves me, “ Tish gushed through sobs, “he totally still loves me.” “How do you know Tish? That sounded pretty legit.” “The reference he used was one that only Brick and I knew about. He used it to tell me how he really felt, and so did I. He knows I love him now.” “Even with what he’s had to do with Zindriya? Doesn’t that bother you?” “Yah, of course, it does, but if I can get him back, we’ll work it out. I’m not saying it’ll be easy, but I’m not letting him go without a fight.” “Yeah, and the fight will probably be with him. Brick will feel guilty about what he’s doing with that feral bitch now and what he’ll do later when he dumps her. He’s gonna doubt everything about himself and wonder how he was capable of doing it. If he can’t trust himself, he won’t believe anyone else can trust him either. The frigging noble bastard’s gonna want to spare you the trouble.” “I won’t let him. We’ve both gone through too much shit to let it all go down the

toilet, Mara. I’ll do whatever it takes. We can accomplish anything when we’re together. I mean, look at our invention. He probably doesn’t know about it yet since it hasn’t gone public. We did that together, and we’re set for life, hell, for several lifetimes. I’m getting him back, Mara, no matter what it takes.” “I believe you, Lil sis. Let’s go home and get some rest. We need to be fresh for tomorrow. We’ve got a lot of long days ahead getting ready for this blitz if we can pull it off.” “You think we can?” “With Zindriya’s help, yeah, ” Mara paused briefly, “just one thing I think you need to know, Tish.” Mara was concerned about Brick. She was sure that he had compartmentalized his mind, but there was a chance that he hadn’t. Mara had never told Tish, wanting to spare her any more grief. Mara sensed that Zindriya had tortured Brick mercilessly because of their pseudo-psychic link. Under that kind of trauma for such a long time, the mind of an average person could fracture all on its own just to escape the pain. She wanted to prepare Tish for that possibility. He might not be faking. Brick might be suffering from Dissociative Identity Disorder, the new psycho-babble for what used to be called multiple personalities. Mara thought of the John Cusack character in the 2003 movie Identity and shivered. She shared her thoughts with Tish, who experienced the very same response.

Chapter Eighteen

Spilled Words

Brick was getting antsy. A week had ed since the meet on top of the canyon wall. Their detail-planning session two days before had gone well, and they had settled on many things, including the distribution of forces and the date of the coordinated attack. That would be in another seven days. Brick had used the time to drag as much information about Cleddyf from Zindriya as he could, citing Sun Tzu and the need to know their enemy. She happily agreed, especially after Brick used his knowledge of her body and had A.B. skillfully apply some very friendly pressure. He’d spent a lot of his free time in the gym, building up his stamina in both phasing and hyper. He would soon need them for the battles to come, both with Cleddyf and then with Zindriya. Something was different about her, and he couldn’t put his finger on it. He knew she was hiding something. What that something was, he did not know. Brick would sometimes hear Zindriya talking to someone, but she would be alone when he walked into the room. Other times, he would scour the fortress looking for her only to find her in a room he had searched a few minutes before. Brick had enough field experience to trust those feelings even without empirical evidence, so he remained on guard, just in case, even though he had no clue what to look for. Brick had begun using leaf-bladed throwing knives since he had regained some semblance of freedom within the complex. As it turned out, when he was in hyper, they were much more effective than slower-than-mud firearms. He kept at least ten of them on his person almost all the time. Brick had practiced throwing for an hour, then took to punishing a one-hundred-pound heavy bag, tossing it around as though it were a paperweight. Bruno sauntered in, used one of the

other bags for a bit, then confronted him. “You don’t run this place, you know, I do.” “Not trying to take your job, Bruno. I wouldn’t want to muck out the stables, bag man.” “What do you mean by that?” “What? Not sure if I mean that either you’ll need a bag to clean up the mountain of shit after this is over or whether everyone will leave you holding that stinking bag when we're finished.” Brick had been having a hard time hanging on to his cover after being so close to Tish. His mind remained split, but he’d been assuming more control over A.B. when Alter-Brick wasn’t screwing Zindriya. He happily relinquished control at those times and let the other guy have at it, blocking as much of the goings-on as he could. It was getting increasingly difficult as the weeks ed. Brick wasn’t in a good mood and needed a relief valve; bag man Bruno would do just fine. “You think you’re smart, but I got your number, asshole. When this is over, I’m gonna take Zindriya back from you and put a fucking bullet in your head.” Again with the asshole? Is there some kind of competition? Brick imagined a carnival barker announcing a contest. Call Brick an asshole five times, and win five dollars. Call him one ten times and win a hundred! Getcher raffle tickets right here at this booth for the low-low price of Free-ninety-nine. He sometimes wondered why his mind went on those mental rollercoaster rides in times of conflict. Brick figured it was his way of channeling his anxiety into a more productive state. “Bruno, if you’re trying to insult me into throwing down, you don’t have to. I will gladly stomp your bald ass into the dirt anytime.” “Right now good for you? Or do you need an audience?” “Let’s do it, cupcake. You want to puss out and wear gloves, or do we go manoa-mano, skidmark?” “Bare knuckles is fine by me. You don’t use that ghost shit on me, yeah?”

“I don’t need ghost shit for a dipshit like you, shithead.” “I’m gonna enjoy this.” You keep thinking that, jackass. Overconfidence only helps me put you down faster. Cushioned mats covered a large area on one side of the gym. They met in the middle, and without any fanfare, the fight began. Brick was true to his word and kept his speed and strength down to an average human level. Bruno wasn’t a match for him even then. Brick hadn’t truly been angry at the larger man. It was just a wrong place at the wrong time situation. The need for perpetual deception wearied Brick. He’d done long-term undercover work before, but this time was different. Having to split his mind into pieces was a whole other thing. The stress on his psyche was horrific, and, at times, it was difficult to maintain. The fight with Bruno was something he needed at that moment. Brick was calm, cool, and calculating. He planned every move, every strike, and every hold. He had already planned Bruno’s destruction, but he was getting bored with how easy it was, even without using any of his Ghost abilities. Bruno, however, grew increasingly enraged at the casual way Brick blocked and countered every kick, every strike. Bruno charged, so Brick used the large man’s momentum, tossed him halfway across the room and into a rack full of sheathed swords. The weapons scattered in all directions. Bruno grabbed a long sword made of Toledo steel. A Spanish inscription glinted on the blade. No me saques sin razón. No me envaines sin honor; Do not draw me without reason. Do not sheathe me without honor. He tossed the sheath across the room and advanced. “That’s the Espada Encantada, the Enchanted Sword, Bruno. You have dishonored the blade, and now it must be blooded to reclaim its honor.” “It’ll be blooded straight away after I finish splittin’ your ‘ead down the middle.” “I’m out. This fight is over. You deal with the sword’s consequences.” Bruno blocked him from leaving, or at least he thought that’s what he was doing.

Brick could have easily gotten around the larger man, but Bruno made one final, fatal mistake. “Your used-to-be bitch, Tish’ll be on my team. Be a damn shame if somefin’ went wrong, yeah?” His words filled Brick with cold fire. Bruno must have seen the change in him from the look of panic in his round, wide eyes as Brick slowly advanced. He shouted at Brick to stop as he backed away from the nightmare that approached. Bruno took several swings at him, but Brick just phased, letting the sword right through. “H-hey. I-I was just j-jokin’.” “Words have been spilled, Bruno. They've poisoned the sea of eternity, and only your blood can cleanse it.” Brick pressed inexorably forward as Bruno tried to get away. “I promise I w-won’t h-hurt her.” “Far too late for that. The Espada Encantada has chosen me to renew its honor this day.” Bruno took one last slash, but Brick stepped inside the arc of the swing and punched his wrist hard enough to break it. He snagged the sword before it fell to the floor. It was vibrating as though angry at being treated in such a dishonorable fashion. Brick drew it across Bruno’s forearm so the Espada could taste the blood of the man who had dishonored it. The sword drank in the line of blood along its edge. After the crimson streak was consumed, it pulsed once, then went quiescent, its honor restored. Brick slid it into his belt, grabbed Bruno’s broken wrist, and squeezed, driving the larger man to his knees. “Please... I don’t want to die,” Bruno whimpered in a pain-shattered voice. “The Reaper comes for us all, Bruno. Today, ‘I am become Death...’,” he didn’t bother finishing the old quote. Brick was surprisingly calm. He reckoned that anger and hatred would fill his mind at the moment, but it did not. Bruno had threatened the woman he loved,

and he felt no pity or remorse. He was simply eliminating a threat, as he would a spider, crushing it under the heel of his boot. “I’ll make it quick, Bruno. What is your true name so I may properly honor your ing.” “Harold Gentry. My name is Harold Gentry.” “May you follow a more noble path in your next life, Harold Gentry. May you find the peace you never knew in this one.” He started blubbering and babbling about something, but Brick ignored him. Bruno began to smell of piss and shit, but it didn’t matter. Whatever shame he might feel would be short-lived. Brick phased his hand into Bruno's chest, wrapped his fingers around the pulsing heart muscle, and squeezed until the pressure reduced the organ to a useless mass of dead tissue. Bruno slumped and fell to the floor as Brick released his wrist and withdrew his hand. He looked at his appendage and saw pristine skin where he had expected blood. Either the phasing had cleansed it, or like the sword, perhaps he had reclaimed his personal honor by absorbing the blood. Bruno spasmed uncontrollably as his brain and body tried to cope with the rapidly diminishing store of oxygen in his blood. He was dead in less than a minute. Brick resheathed Espada Encantada and placed it on another rack but reconsidered and strapped the sword across his back. The enchanted sword pulsed twice then settled into a light but persistent hum. Brick sensed that the blade was pleased. It had chosen him, and he would keep it despite not knowing its origins. Zindriya had been very sketchy on the details of how and where she’d found it, but the location had been somewhere in Mexico. He had a feeling she knew more about the sword and would attempt to draw more information from her. He would also conduct a personal search for answers about the Espada Encantada after the raid was over if he lived through it. Brick walked out and left the body on the mat. He needed to tell Zindriya that she’d have to find a new captain for one of the strike teams. ❖

*****

❖ “What do you think he’s doing now, Mara?” “It’s the middle of the night, three days before the attack, Tish. Do you really want me to answer that question?” “I know, I just....” Tish ran out of words for the moment. “We’ll get him back. I don’t know what shape he’ll be in, but we will get my brother back.” “I was so stupid before, Mara. I should have told him how I felt.” “Yeah, you should have, but it’s all water under the bridge. After the show you two put on, Brick knows you love him. If I know my Lil bro, once this is over, he’ll stop at nothing to get back to you. He might leave again, but the noble bastard will, at least, face you first.” “I miss him.” “Me too, Lil sis. Face facts, though. The person we get back won’t be the same one we once knew. Just like you’ve changed, he will have changed a lot. He’s gonna be damaged beyond belief after what he’s done to survive.” “I know.” “I don’t think you do, Tish.” Mara reminded Tish about Zindriya’s months-long campaign of torture and the danger it represented. She was sure Brick had split his mind into at least two different parts. One part stayed on the surface, endured the brunt of the pain, and had succumbed to Zindriya’s pain and pleasure campaign while the actual Brick remained buried, only taking a peek when it was safe. That would be the only way it could possibly work. A woman like Zindriya, who trusted no one, would have been able to sniff out a pretender. If he flinched even slightly at a kiss or touch, Brick would have to

fight his way out of an unknown situation with a deadly enemy at his heels. Zindriya knew what he was, and she would have some kind of countermeasure to prevent him from harming her or escaping. The only other possibility was that Zindriya had broken Brick, and they were walking into one big trap that he’d set for them. Mara doubted that, though, because she had faith in her brother. He had a strong mind and an indomitable will. She was positive that Zindriya couldn’t break him. Still, there was a chance she was wrong. When Brick was free, he would have to make a choice. He would need to eliminate his alter ego or merge with it. If he chose the latter, Tish would be dealing with not one ghost but three; his first girlfriend, who died in the car crash, his ex-lover killed in combat, and Zindriya. Mara didn’t tell Tish, but she only hoped the split had been voluntary because if it hadn’t been, they might never get their Brick back again. “Sorry to bust your bubble, Lil sis, but you gotta face reality. He did this to get back to you, but he’s fully expecting you to reject him because of what he had to do to stay alive. He won’t believe himself worthy of your love, or anyone else’s for that matter.” Tish’s mood darkened, and she slumped on the couch in the living room of the Redstone house. Tish’s entire world was laser-focused on getting him back. She barely cared enough to eat and had done so only because she needed to stay strong in case that one chance came to rescue him. The only other thing she had focused on was their project. She had finished the device and submitted it to the substitute professor that had taken Sandra’s place. Tish had also put it on the auction block to the highest bidder and had accepted an insane amount of cash for the manufacturing rights and profit-sharing for future sales. Now here she was, stewing over an uncontrollable situation while the man she loved gave the high, hard one to someone whose head she’d rather push slowly into a blender set on puree. Damn. I have changed. A few months ago, I wouldn’t have even thought of anything like that. Was that what it was like for my dad after returning from the war? Maybe. Tish trusted that Brick’s feelings for her hadn’t changed. Her love for him remained steadfast, even as she adapted to the current situation. Three days from

that moment, they would likely be knee-deep in blood, rooting out the festering boils of the Cleddyf cells. The old Tish would have been shivering in her boots at even the thought of such violence. However, the Tish that existed now wished it would come sooner so that she could be in his arms again. So they both had changed, but if they stuck together, they could get through it. She knew they could. She just had to find a way to convince him that she was right. Figures I’d fall for the single most noble man on the planet. Brick’s almost a carbon copy of the old comic book hero trope. Nobility dripped from them, and they would toss their own happiness aside to protect those around them. Not this time, you noble bastard, I’m gonna find some way to make you stay. The idea started as a tiny spark but snowballed into a raging inferno. Tish had to be sure he couldn’t get away from her very easily. There was only one way that could happen. She had to talk to Flint. She had to become a Ghost. Tish stood in front of the locked door that led to Flint’s private, underground laboratory. Neither she nor Mara had been down there for more than a minute or so before Flint ushered them out. What they had seen during those brief times was indescribable and indecipherable. According to Mara, the lab resembled one in which the Redstones had been the subjects of experiments. There were also other people there in white lab coats milling about like ants. Tish could only think of one reason why. They were trying to recreate, repair or resurrect what had happened to them. She believed that Brick would be proud of her for using three consecutive words with the same first letter. She missed him so much. Once she put all of her strength into it, the door offered little resistance. Served Flint right for not answering her knocks and text messages. Tish walked into bedlam. The door had been thick and soundproof because as soon as it stood hanging half off its hinges from her kick, she heard a claxon sounding a warning. Though her view from upstairs was limited, she could see something dark oozing across the floor and a couple of light fittings hanging from the ceiling. On alert, she descended into the chaos one step at a time, knowing that the narrow staircase offered nothing less than a death gauntlet if an enemy stood at the bottom with a firearm. Tish depended on her invulnerability, but in cases like the present, doubt crept into her mind that it would be the one time her ability failed.

Because of that, she always had a backup plan ready. It was a dicey plan but the only one available for a narrow corridor of stairs with no way out but up or down. She slid the nine-inch stiletto dagger from its sheath in the small of her back. Tish reached the bottom of the stairs with no problem, but sweat poured down her forehead and dripped from her chin into the dark liquid that now flowed when before it had only oozed. She figured it could have been an optical illusion from the flickering lights, but she wasn’t sure. The coppery sensation assailing the back of her throat reminded her of the motel room; reminded her of blood. Now at the bottom, Tish could see the wreckage of a lab stretching out before her. Not one table was upright. Not one pane of glass was intact, and bodies lay strewn across the floor. She peeked around the corner to her right and saw more destruction and bodies. She felt danger from her left, dove right, rolled, and came up in a fighting crouch, blade in front, point up, a classic knife fighting stance. The figure in front of her resembled Mara, just older. The woman gestured, and the knife flew from Tish’s hand. She didn’t hesitate. Tish charged the woman, leaping into a flying kick, striking her opponent in the chest. It should have crushed her breastbone, but it didn’t. The woman staggered back a few paces, and then she gestured again in Tish’s direction, which activated her invulnerability. Surrounded by her golden shield, Tish landed in the classic three-point hero stance and used it to launch herself at the woman, ramming her at a full sprint. The collision sent her adversary flying across the room and into a nearby wall, denting the concrete. Shockingly, her opponent was still alive and conscious. The older woman flexed her elbows, prying herself from the hole, then held up her hands in supplication and spoke. “Hang on a minute.” “Why should I?” “Because I’m Ruby Redstone, Mason and Marble’s mother.”

Chapter Nineteen

Pawn

Zindriya awakened at 7 AM on the dot but did not open her eyes because she wanted to remain in the afterglow for just a few more moments. She had honed her ability to arise at any time she chose without using any type of device. She felt wonderful. Brick had been incredibly attentive the night before and had soothed her every worry with his loving touch. She had never dreamed relationships could be like that. All she had ever known was treachery, deceit, and violence. Zindriya reached out for Brick, but yet again, he was not in bed with her. He was likely in the gym working out, honing his skills for the coming battle. She didn’t fault him for his dedication. It was just that she had been in the mood for a bit of morning delight before her shower. She pulled herself out of bed, stood, and stretched, iring her toned body in the wall-sized mirror at the head of the bed. Zindriya looked around the room at the white walls and white bed frame, and white workstation and decided that she would have Bruno bring some color into her living space. Where is Bruno? She looked at the clock on the wall near the front door. I would typically have heard from him by now. Ah well, no matter. Zindriya’s mind drifted back to her new color scheme. The first color that came to mind was seafoam. It seemed to be a good start for someone who had only desired clean, pristine, and sharply contrasted colors. Before she began that project, she needed a shower. Brick seriously stank her up last night. Zee chuckled to herself about how her vocabulary was expanding with more ethnic idioms after being with Brick. Zindriya took a quick shower, hoping to find Brick in their chambers once she had finished, but he still hadn’t returned. She dressed in her typical black tights and leather, but as she clicked the last snap together, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, and the muscles around her ears tightened as though they attempted to pull them back so she could hear something behind her. Zindriya

snatched the pistol from her holster on the bed and whipped around in one smooth motion in time to see a Black woman coalesce from a golden cloud a bit more than a meter away. “Who the fuck are you, and why are you here?” Zindriya cocked the hammer centered over the lower barrel of her modernized LeMat cavalry pistol. The LeMat was a double-barreled, over-under, Civil Warera revolver originally designed with an upper rifled barrel for nine .36 caliber cap and ball rounds and a lower 20 gauge smoothbore barrel for shot. Hers was customized to use modern .38 caliber centerfire cartridges and standard 20gauge shotgun shells. She was puzzled that the woman wasn’t the least bit afraid. Then Zindriya took a good look at her face, recognizing that she resembled Brick and his sister, Mara. “I’m Ruby Redstone, Mason’s mother. I’m here to help you.” “I don’t need your help. How did you get in here? What was that gold shit you just appeared from?” “You do need my help, especially if you want to hold on to Mason. In return, I require your assistance to escape from a prison of my husband’s design.” “What do you mean?” Ruby explained that Flint had revived her from a healing coma and held her prisoner in a secret lab. She needed Zindriya’s aid to escape because the countermeasures used against her were too efficient to override, but they wouldn’t stop someone without her specific DNA pattern. “How will I get there? I’m sure their security is insane, and I can’t spare the time or the labor to overcome it right now. And why should I trust you anyway?” “Because you will lose Mason to that Latisha girl and his sister, Marble. I can help you keep him.” “How?” “By eliminating the threat they pose.”

“You’d kill your own daughter?” “She’s part of the plot to keep me prisoner. She’s no daughter of mine — not anymore.” “Still, if I agree, how do I get to a secret lab?” “Your agreement is irrelevant.” Ruby stepped forward, Zindriya fired the shotgun round into her face at pointblank range, but it went through Ruby, sending golden sparks flying in all directions. Ruby touched her. Zindriya felt a tugging at her abdomen, a moment of disorientation, and a feeling of movement. Then she was in another place, by the smell of it, as golden sparks fell from her body, disappearing before they struck the floor. Zindriya’s head was still spinning, and her vision was blurred, but she tried to react when someone snatched the LeMat from her hand. “Sit down before you fall, Zindriya. You’re with me in my prison now.” She felt a hand shove her backward, her legs struck something that felt like a bed, and she toppled onto it. “I am going to kill you,” Zindriya spoke, with teeth bared and lips pulled back. Ruby snorted and spoke lightheartedly, “Right. I just instantaneously transported you against your will, and you are going to kill me? That sounds like one of those stupid movies where humans take down a race that can cross interstellar space using baling wire and a homemade bomb. Laughable, to say the least,” Her voice lowered and turned guttural, “This isn’t one of those movies, little girl. You can’t lay a finger on me, but I can snap my fingers and end your existence.” To say Zindriya was scared would have been an understatement. The sound of the woman’s voice sent chills up and down her spine. Ruby spoke the truth, and there was no doubt about it. Zee closed her eyes and fought to control the terror that had gripped her. A few seconds later, though the dread still held sway, she had gained enough control to respond. “What do you want from me?”

“That’s better. All I need is for you to walk through the energy barrier surrounding my cell and turn off the switch just over there.” Ruby pointed at a wall to their right, which housed a pad with a biometric security system. “You will need a full handprint and retinal scan. I’m sure you can figure that part out on your own.” Zindriya’s vision had cleared, and she assessed the difficulty of her task. “Will anyone do, or do I have a limited group from which to choose?” According to Ruby, anyone would do. The reason she had chosen that time of day because there were fewer people around, and security would be too involved with the shift change to bother with watching her. Still, time was of the essence, and she would have to move quickly. Zindriya approached the energy barrier and extended her index finger. The closer it got to the wall of energy, the more the hairs on her arms stood on end. She expected a blast of energy to numb her finger, but it ed right through, causing the wall to shimmer where her digit breached. She looked back at Ruby. “I told you I it would be fine. Now hurry. Time’s wasting, and that’s something I can’t yet control.” Zindriya moved toward a door on her right, took a cautious look down both ends of the corridor beyond, then slipped into it, choosing to go left. Ruby’s remark about not yet possessing the ability to control time set up shop in the back of her mind. She would deal with it later. For now, Zindriya’s only goal was to find someone and use them to free Ruby. After that, she would see how things would progress. The next door was ten meters down the hall on her right. No alarms sounded, and she had seen no cameras once she had left Ruby’s cell, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. Zindriya peeked around the doorframe, spying one woman in the room, and she had her back to her attacker. Zee moved swiftly and silently, delivering a blow to the base of the woman’s brain, knocking her out. Fortunately, the unlucky scientist was short and slight, giving Zindriya very little trouble carrying her back to Ruby’s prison. She freed Ruby then laid the woman

gently on the ground. There was no need to kill her since she remained unconscious. However, Ruby had other ideas. “Dr. Geisman. She’s the one who created the energy barrier for my cell.” Before Zindriya could move, Ruby lashed out and slapped the prone woman, who simply disappeared in a flash of golden sparkles. “Wha—what the fuck just happened?” “The first of many deaths, but not yet. We have a week to give you complete control over Cleddyf. That will be difficult even with my help. Come.” Ruby shifted them back to Zindriya’s bedroom. The move didn’t affect her so badly the second time. “How do you know about them? Or me? Or what’s going on outside this lab?” Ruby stared at her for a few seconds. Zindriya could almost hear the wheels of her mind turning, likely determining her fate. She let out a breath she hadn’t ed holding when Ruby began to speak. “The barrier that bitch created held my physical body in place but not my nonphysical form, the one you saw in your bedroom. Speaking of which,” Ruby stuck her nose closer to Zindriya as though she were scenting her. “It’s good for you that you’ve been faithful to my son. Otherwise, you would have ed the good doctor.” Ruby explained that through her access to the Akashic Field, she kept tabs on everyone in her family and others such as Zindriya. Once she had determined that taking down Cleddyf was possible, Ruby decided to side with Zee and would give her control of the shadow organization to do with as she pleased with two codicils. The first was that Zindriya had to stay with Brick and never stray. Ruby refused to reveal the second condition until the appropriate time arrived. “Be ready to accompany me whenever I appear. I will ensure that you are alone. What we do must remain secret. Not a soul can know. Understood?” Zindriya nodded that she did, but Ruby didn’t seem to be listening. She had turned her head to the side like one does when one was trying to hear a very faint

sound. “Well, it appears that I won’t have to worry about you telling a certain person, anyway. Brick has seen to that.” “Who are you talking about?” “You’ll find out soon enough. Well, lots to do and short on time. Must run along, ta!.” Ruby turned away briefly then faced her again. “One last thing, do not tell Brick even the little that you know about the Espada Encantada. He must earn that knowledge to access the sword’s full capabilities. He will need them in the future. “Well, once again, ta. Much to do and many places to go.” Before Zindriya could ask any more questions, Ruby disappeared in a shower of golden sparkles. A rush of air ruffled her hair, rapidly filling the vacuum the mysterious woman had left. Ruby hadn’t been gone for two minutes before Brick casually walked into the room, with the enchanted sword strapped to his back, to tell her that he had killed Bruno. In a rare moment of weakness, Zindriya fell into Brick’s arms. She was trembling. At first, it seemed as though he didn’t know how to handle her. No one had ever seen her like that, much less Brick. After a few seconds, though, he squeezed her tightly, whispering soft nothings into her ear. His warm embrace and soothing voice chased the trembles away. He asked her what had happened. Zindriya lied to Brick. She told him that she had experienced a flashback of the night her mother had killed her father. Then she spoke the truth when she confessed that the shakes consumed her on the rare occasion, but she’d never had anyone who could make them go away until him. Zindriya realized at that moment that she was in love with Brick and told him so. Usually, she would have taken him to bed, but she was content to stand there, basking in the flood of unfamiliar but welcome emotions coursing through her. She relished the warmth of his body and the way his comforting embrace chased away her worst nightmare. That moment she realized the second codicil Ruby required of her. It was the only way to keep Brick from leaving her, not that she thought he would. Still, as with her twin sister, a little bit of leverage went a very long way. Zindriya

smiled, nestled her lips against Brick’s neck, and squeezed him even more tightly. ❖

*****

❖ The next four days ed in a whirlwind of activity, fighting, and secrecy. Between preparing for the battle and working with Ruby to take over Cleddyf, Zindriya barely had time to sleep. To be honest, though, the sleeping part always took a backseat to making love with Brick. She wouldn’t miss that for anything, not even Ruby’s crusade. They had been successful, though. It had been easier than either of them would ever have imagined. Once several of the cells observed Ruby’s raw power combined with Zindriya’s ruthlessness and ability to command, the rest caved quickly. In most cases, the troops took out the resistant hierarchy before the dangerous duo ever set foot within their hideaways. All of them recognized Zindriya as their new leader and Ruby as the strong right arm who would lead them out of the shadows and into a bright future of world domination. Once they tamed Cleddyf, Zindriya and Ruby finalized their plans for the coming attack. They still needed the attack as a smokescreen for the second codicil Ruby had demanded in return for her help. She hadn’t been surprised that Zindriya had already pieced it together. Her cunning was the reason Ruby had chosen her, or so she had said. Finally released from her pact, Ruby would finish what she had started with escaping from her prison in her husband’s secret lab. She bade her goodbyes and vanished in a shower of golden sparkles. Zindriya smiled and collapsed into the chair at her workstation, glad that part of it was over. She knew Brick was getting suspicious at her frequent, unexplained disappearances. Now she could focus on their relationship — try to bring them closer than ever before so they could weather the coming storm. It was still relatively early, but Zindriya sent word over the fortress communications system for Brick to meet her in their

quarters. She had an urgent need for his loving. An annoying alarm dragged Zindriya from a pleasantly deep slumber. She tapped the screen next to the bed just in time to see Brick walk out of a glowing, golden cloud in the gym.

Chapter Twenty

Entangled

“But you’re dead,” Tish growled. She kept her balance even and perched on the balls of her feet. “I was, and now I’m not,” Brick’s mother calmly replied. She was far too relaxed for the situation. Tish had just bulldozed her into a concrete wall, and she stood there as if she’d just taken a sip of tea. “But how?” “Over your pay grade. Where are my daughter and son?” “Why don’t you ask your husband?” This was starting to sound like a conversation with her own mother. Tish guessed moms were the same all over. Except for those who come back from the dead and can move objects with the wave of a hand. “Because he’s dead. I killed him,” Ruby took a step toward Tish, “and you’re next if you don’t tell me where my children are.” Tish’s hackles rose. Something was going on with the woman in front of her, and despite her invulnerability, she needed help. She yelled for Mara. “And by the way, who are you?” Tish yelled for Mara a little louder, but she didn’t think her voice would make it all the way upstairs through the soundproofing. “I’m Brick’s girlfriend.”

“Who’s Brick?” “It’s... it’s Mason’s nickname. Everyone calls him Brick.” “Hmmm. His girlfriend, huh? My son has chosen well. Did he do that to you,” Ruby asked, pointing a finger and drawing a circle in the air, “Can he control the Field?” “Do what? And what field?” “I can’t affect you. It’s like you’re protected, and I mean the Akashic Field, of course.” “He was able to access it once, and that was when he changed me. How can you tell?” “Your glow is different from everyone else’s. I can’t affect you, but I can use everything around you.” Ruby closed her eyes for a second, and when she opened them, they glowed. Tish began to feel heavier, like a weight bore down on every part of her body, slowly pressing her to the floor. She tried to turn and run up the stairs, but she could barely move. She yelled for Mara again, and once more, she didn’t come. Tish tried to focus on Brick, yet she wasn’t able to. She was finding it harder to breathe, and her strength was failing. She had enough air for one last cry for help. Tish concentrated everything she had left on ing Brick. What came out of her was not what she had expected. ❖

*****

❖ Brick was having trouble sleeping. A.B. had been especially active with the insatiable Zindriya, and he’d had problems blocking it out. He felt his

compartmentalization weakening over the last few weeks. He had no idea how much longer he’d be able to keep his mind split, and watching A.B. using his body to pleasure Zindriya was starting to get to him. He turned his head to look at her. She snored softly, and as she slept, her face had relaxed into that of an innocent—a scarred innocent. Not wanting to remain naked next to her, Brick got out of bed and pulled on a pair of lounge pants and a t-shirt, then sat on the end of the mattress. Somehow, his feet found their way into his Crocs. He sat there with his head in his hands and eyes closed, trying his best to block the past few hours out of his mind. Brick felt a tingling begin at the base of his neck. It turned into a rush of warmth that spread throughout his body. He sat bolt upright when he heard Tish singing in his mind. He didn’t know she could sing. But it wasn’t singing. It was more like a siren’s song. He felt like Jason lashed to the mast of the Argo, and he had to go to her immediately. Brick opened his eyes into a universe of light. He was in the Field again. He searched his mind, and the rift he’d been trying to breach was wide open. Tish’s voice was flowing from it, and he got the feeling she was in trouble. She had given him access to the Akashic Field. He stood up, looked in the direction of his house, and saw what was transpiring. He was both there and in Zindriya’s fortress at the same time. All he had to do was step forward, so he did. Brick had no idea there was a lab under his house, but the place looked as though a tornado had just ed through, and there were bodies strewn across the floor. Blood flowed freely down a nearby drain, staining his shoes. An older woman stood a few feet from him, and Tish was to his left on the floor at the base of a set of stairs, her face contorted in pain. The woman glowed like a Christmas tree on steroids, and power cascaded from her in waves. She was the one causing Tish’s pain. “Leave Tish alone, now,” Brick shouted at the woman. “And if I don’t?” “Then I’ll have to make you,” the grin he allowed to spread across his face fell far short of his eyes. “Brick,” Tish barely squeaked out, “careful... Field... “ “I said, let her go.”

“You’re Mason. You don’t recognize me do you?” “Should I?” “I died when you were three, but you had to have seen images of me.” “Last warning. Let her go.” “Fine. I have released her. Whatever you did to change your girlfriend was beginning to compensate anyway. My power would have been ineffectual in a matter of minutes.” Tish was finally able to stand. Brick didn’t move, keeping an eye on his adversary, ready to pounce if she made the wrong move. Tish limped to his side and slid her hand into his. “So you’re saying you’re my dead mother?” “She is Brick,” Mara agreed from the stairs, “You should recognize her from the images I showed you.” Brick finally took a good look at the woman. She appeared to be an older version of Mara. “Hello, Marble. So glad to see you again.” “How are you alive, mom. You died almost nineteen years ago.” “I don’t know what or who this thing is, Mara, but it’s not our mother—not exactly.” “But it is her, Brick. You were just a baby when she died.” “I may not what she looked like, but I how she smelled. Her scent imprinted on my very soul, sis. that, Mara?” “Right. She smelled of.... “ The two of them responded simultaneously with the word, the emotion, and the sensation. Raspberries. Their mother had smelled of raspberries, and it had been emotionally soothing and had felt like home. The creature that stood before them

did have the scent of raspberries, but it was like the afterthought of a forgotten memory. The dominant smell that seeped from her was dank and musty and very, very old. “You’re right, Lil bro. It smells like moldy mushrooms in a root cellar.” “Whatever this thing is, it may have once been our mother, but it isn’t any longer.” “While all of this is fascinating, you do realize that I am still standing here.” Brick focused his attention back on the being that was once his mother. Tish’s presence at his side filled him with hope, courage, and dread all at the same time. He cherished her touch even as it reminded him of the possibility of losing her. “Who or what are you, Ruby?” “And here I was hoping for a family reunion.” “Don’t trust her, either of you. She killed all of these people, including your father.” There was a flicker of regret that gripped Brick’s heart for a moment, but the man who had been his father had checked out a long time before. At least now he knew why. Secret lab. Secret project. Always secrets with him. When he glanced at Mara, he could sense that she was experiencing similar emotions. It was that freaky connection they had. Brick repeated his question to Ruby. She sighed as a look of disappointment pinched her face. At least that was the look Brick thought she was going for. “You need to know the truth about who and what we are. Flint kept that from you and would have continued if I hadn’t intervened.” “What are you talking about, Ruby? What truth was worth all the lives you took?” “That the universe is far more dangerous than any of us ever imagined. If we do nothing, we risk our very existence, Mason.”

“Why should we believe you?” Ruby’s shoulders fell. “You have no reason to, but I ask that you at least hear me out.” Brick locked eyes with Mara, who nodded almost imperceptibly. “Alright, Ruby. Let’s hear it.” Back in Antarctica, what everyone called a virus wasn’t a virus. The organisms looked and behaved much like them, but they were actually individual cells that belonged to a much larger being. Ruby had discovered that shortly after they had found them in the ice core. She tried to tell the other scientists what she had identified and had shown them her evidence, but they had dismissed her out of hand. Even a third of the way through the twenty-first century, the men degraded her with phrases such as You’re just being overreactive; I don’t know why you persist in such outlandish theories; You’re doing your woman thing again. Is it your time of the month? Despite the mountains of evidence she presented, they would not budge. When the lab director dismissed her out of hand, Ruby gave up and began working on her side project as the geneticists attempted to eliminate the aging aspects of the organism. Ruby had not been party to the hierarchy’s decision to infect of their community but had figured it out pretty quickly when people began dying of old age. She had silently predicted that the geneticists, acting on the idea that the cells were viruses instead of pieces of a larger organism, would fail at their attempts to eradicate the aging effects. Viruses were independent organisms whose sole goal was to multiply and mimic already living cells of other creatures by inserting their DNA into the nuclei of those cells until enough of them were infected to try and take over the entire organism. The organism they had found acted in much the same way, but being parts of a larger whole, they communicated with each other on a Quantum level, each cell having a sort of base memory core. This ability to exchange information gave them the ability to resist any attempts at genetic alterations and bestowed them with the capacity to their original DNA patterns from normal cells in the event something did change. Ruby had discovered that aspect during her analysis as well. That was why she had been able to create a vaccine to slow down the aging process for herself. Her serum disrupted each cell’s ability to

communicate with each other, but only temporarily. With each subsequent injection, the serum became less effective. Ruby had also found out the reason for the aging. The cells were trying to multiply, devouring the body’s life energy to replicate themselves. The ultimate goal was to convert every cell in the body into the new cells. The original host would essentially die while the new cells reorganized into a new physical and psychological construct, merging the host and the organism into a new being. The process usually took nearly a century. Flint had found her notes and had devised a method of speeding up the conversion process. He immersed Ruby’s body in a nutrient-rich liquid he had created to give the organism all the nourishment needed to rejuvenate his wife without consuming her completely. That was why she still smelled of raspberries; part of her was still Ruby. “And you killed him for it,” Brick stated matter-of-factly. “Well, they tried to hold me hostage with some ridiculous excuse about keeping me safe. Preposterous. They just wanted to use me as a guinea pig.” “You still didn’t have to kill them, mom,” Mara added, “I mean, you have access to the Akashic Field, so you could have just left. They couldn’t have stopped you, right?” Brick noticed that Ruby hesitated ever so slightly before answering. “Of course not, but I couldn’t have them chasing me all across the planet. I have things to do, and I don’t need distractions.” “Things like what,” Mara asked. Ruby ignored the question and spoke to Brick and Tish. They had something special. Tish had literally used a siren song to summon Brick to her side. She had activated his access to the Akashic Field, where he had failed to do so on his own. Whatever Brick had done to change her had linked them, perhaps irrevocably. Tish was now the key to his accessing the Field. Ruby cracked a joke, referencing a movie from the ‘80s about trapping ghosts. In that movie, the man was the Keymaster and the woman, the Gatekeeper, in classic, misogynistic fashion. With Tish and Brick, the roles were reversed. “All fine and dandy, Ruby, but answer the question. What things do you have to

do?” “Not much of a sense of humor, Mason dear, but fine. That’s for me to know, and you to find out, and I’m sure you will once you get over your anger and think. What is the purpose of a virus? Well, lots to do and time’s a-wasting. So nice to see you two again. Rest assured, this won’t be the last time. Ta!” Ruby vanished in a shower of golden sparkles and a rush of air to fill the vacancy. “That was some fucked up shit,” Mara exclaimed. “You got that right, sis.” A moment later, his sister wrapped a very surprised Brick in her arms and squeezed. Tish had been trapped by the hug as well. His shoulder felt damp where Mara’s head lay. “God, Brick, I missed you so much!” “Mara? You okay?” “I’m fine, Lil bro. I’ve just been spending way too much time with your overemotional girlfriend. She’s starting to rub off on me. I love you, Brick.” Surprised but happy, Brick hugged Mara back with one arm. He wasn’t letting go of Tish’s hand for anything. “I love you too, big sis.” “How long can you stay?” “Not long. Zee is still asleep and doesn’t know I’m gone. I need to get back.” He told them about what had happened with Bruno. He couldn’t afford to shake her confidence in him so close to the strike against Cleddyf. Afterward was a different story. Mara and Tish understood. They talked about Flint briefly. Mara would take care of the arrangements. Brick wanted them to preserve the lab in its present state so he could go over it

later with a fine-toothed comb. Ruby’s hesitation at Mara’s question had him wondering if Flint had come up with some way to restrain Ruby despite the Field. Tish had caught her before she had finished whatever she’d been doing. Brick shook his head at his idiocy. Tish and Mara could go through the lab. What made him think he had to do it? Still shaking off the last vestiges of misogyny, old chap? You, of all people, should know better. “Did you catch the hesitation after your question?” “I did, Lil bro. I think that’s why the lab is shredded. Tish got here before Ruby found what she was looking for.” “You guys need to find it before she comes back. Tish, can you hack my dad’s computer?” “No problem. I’ll get on it as soon as you leave.” Mara hugged them both again then left so that he and Tish could say their proper goodbyes. Brick thought it odd that she hadn’t found it strange that he was there and not at the fortress, but he figured that she had some idea his access to the Field had something to do with it. The impossible had become commonplace in their lives. Before he knew it, Tish was in his arms and her lips pressed against his. He opened his mouth to give her full access. The kiss was short but intense. “I love you, Brick.” “I know. Our tête-à-tête on the mount told me that. You were brilliant, by the way, but what can I expect from the woman I love.” “I won’t pretend that what’s going on with Zindriya doesn’t bother me, but I know it can’t be easy for you either. Am I talking to my Brick or hers?” “A.B.’s asleep right now. He thinks he’s still next to Zee.” “A.B.?” He explained who his alter ego was and how it became more challenging to filter out his goings-on with Zindriya. “I just have to hold out a few more days until the strike.”

“Then what?” “Then we figure out where to go from there.” “Don’t go all frigging noble bastard on me, Brick.” “You’ve obviously been hanging out with my sister,” Brick commented, the right side of his mouth pulled up slightly. “Don’t evade my question, Brick. We don’t have time for bullshit. “I don’t think it would work if I tried. You summoned me here, Tish. I’m sure you can do it again.” She kissed him once more. “You still owe me my two days, Brick, and I aim to collect. It’ll take that long just to get the stink of that feral bitch off of you and replace it with mine. After those two days, if you still feel the need to leave, I won’t stop you. Deal?” “Deal.” They sealed the deal. The two of them no longer needed an excuse to kiss, but this was one of those old habits Tish refused to relinquish, and Brick was happy to oblige. The kiss was sweet and tender yet tainted with a hint of desperation and sadness. She pulled herself out of his arms. “Tish, I... “ “We both have done terrible things to try to get back to each other, Brick, that. Neither one of us has been an angel through this. Honor be damned, and nobility can go fuck itself. This is a fight for our future. Our future Brick, yours and mine. This is no fluffy, neat, and clean superhero movie. It’s ugly and dirty, and raw, and bloody. This is real life.” “You’re right, Tish. We do have a lot to talk about. We both have changed so much.”

“Too much, you think? Am I too different?” “No, but maybe I am. You’re still my dream, Tish, always will be.” “Despite Zindriya, I want you back more than you can imagine. I never knew I could love someone so much. I never understood what love was before you. I don’t know what love or life would ever be like without you.” “I guess we still have a lot in common.” “We do, and we’ll figure it out if you listen to your heart and not your head. scifi night in the kitchen when you kissed me on the forehead? That moment has helped me cope with everything we have had to do over the last few months, Brick. Well, that and what happened later, on the couch,” Tish’s face reddened ever so slightly as her eyes searched his, “We can accomplish anything when we’re together. You heard what Ruby said . We’re quantumlyentangled. You know what that means, math-boy.” The right side of Brick’s mouth curled upward, “Not exactly proper terminology, Miss Thang, but close enough. I suppose we are two particles with identical quantum characteristics connected by a strange, unexplainable attraction.” “Those with access to the Akashic Field can affect subatomic particles. You have the potential to do anything. When you changed me, perhaps you changed us both into something new, something more than human.” “It is possible. Been studying up, have we?” “Ever since you changed me I’ve developed an affinity for math and physics. If it is true, Brick, and I believe it is, you’re no longer alone. Neither of us will ever be alone again. Two entangled particles experience the same events no matter how far apart they are.” Tish kissed him deeply. The thought that he was no longer the only one of his kind lent Brick new hope for the future, one which included Tish if he could overcome his guilt. “But for now, get your head back in the game so we can take down Cleddyf. Go on back to her before I change my mind.”

Tish backed up one more step, just out of his reach. That hurt more than anything else, but Brick knew she had done it not out of spite but out of necessity. He didn’t think he deserved such a strong, magnificent woman like Tish, but she loved him. Now he had to earn the right to that love. Brick looked in the direction of the fortress. He would return to the gym so he wouldn’t wake Zindriya up. He could see her still asleep in the bed. Brick needed time to wash the blood from his crocs and his feet. He turned back to Tish and watched as their impending separation caused wrinkles to crease her beautiful face. Definitely not a foo-foo, everything-will-be-all-right, happy-ending fairytale. This will be a pile of shit we’ll have to muck out for years. Can I seriously put Tish through that? Brick realized that the last question was stupid. He should have asked himself if she’d even let him walk away. Why would he even want to? Would his guilt and self-loathing at what he would do to Zindriya be that strong? Compound that with the guilt over his two dead lovers. He honestly didn’t know. An old saying surfaced in his mind. It was from Fulton Oursler. Something about not letting the two thieves ruin you. The thieves were regret for the past and fear of the future. And I can’t forget Corrie Ten Boom, who talked about how worry wouldn’t stop tomorrow’s sorrow but would absolutely steal today’s strength. Finally, I must Tish’s wisdom. Follow my heart. I lost Kaylen and Fritz because I didn’t. I won’t make that mistake a third time. “I won’t fail you as I failed them, Tish. I will do anything to keep you safe.” “You have kept me safe, Brick. You made sure nothing can physically harm me. The only person on this planet who can hurt me is you; by not giving us a chance. Go. Get back into character, and complete this quest so we can get down to what truly matters, love. Us.” Tish was right. He needed to get his head back in the game and finish this. He stepped away then vanished before either of them changed their minds. Brick imagined what she would see, him vanishing in a puff of golden glitter lights while a slight breeze ruffled her hair and caressed her face as the air rushed in to fill the vacuum left by his departure.

Chapter Twenty-One

Code Key

Brick showered after his workout two days from the strike on the organization that had started all of this. He thought over everything that had happened the night before with his mo — with Ruby. He couldn’t bring himself to call that thing his mother. Part of it was her, but the rest was an alien infestation that had set itself up in her body. That’s it! Ruby had said that I would know what to do when I figure out what viruses do best. They hide and multiply until there are too many of them for an organism to fight without outside assistance. Now Brick had a basis for a strategy, but he could not solve it without Tish’s help, and that would have to wait until after the attack on Cleddyf. He wished he could her. Why can’t I? If his actions had quantumly-entangled the two of them, thinking in Tish’s , then perhaps he could. Brick focused on the rift in his mind. It remained shut tight as usual, but he didn’t try to force it open this time. Instead, he centered his mind on ing Tish. As thoughts of her filled him, the rift opened just a crack, and he projected his psyche through it. Brick felt her surprise at his presence, but she fully activated the Field rift. Brick went golden and partially shifted so that he was in both places at once. Tish was in his bedroom, wearing one of his shirts and filling it out nicely. Her nipples made themselves known. “Brick! You’re here and ready to get your freak on! I’m down!” Tish yanked his shirt off and looked him up and down. It was the first time they had seen each other completely nude. He hadn’t thought of that aspect of his shifting. “Oh. Heh, heh. Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m not. You are one fine man, Brick, and I’m talking damn fine.” “You are very bit the goddess I fantasized about.” His eyes tracked up every wonderful curve of her body as well and felt a stirring down below. The smile creeping across her face was absolutely the smile he’d always wanted from her. Her eyes were bright, and her heart rate noticeably increased. His heart raced at the same pace as Tish’s, but as much as he wanted to pursue this, time was against them. Brick exited the shower and drew a towel around his waist. Tish raised her eyes back to his, but the smile didn’t leave them. That filled him with hope and joy. Brick ignored the urge to pick up his shirt so that Tish could put it on again. He ed movie night when he had found the error in coding. She told him then only to cover her up when she told him to. Brick was happy to oblige. “Oh yah. You are definitely giving me those two days, lover. I’m not letting you out of that deal.” Tish reached out to grab Brick’s hand, but her hand ed through his body. He wasn’t physically in either place, apparently. Instead, his body was in transition, stretched between the time and space separating them. “How did you me, Brick? I thought my siren call was only one way.” “Your siren call is. You control me and my access to the Field. I could only crack the rift in my head because I centered all of my thoughts on you. You obviously heard me and opened it so I could visit.” Tish seemed pleased at that, but Brick never found out if it was because she could control him or because she had filled his mind enough to push everything else out. It really didn’t matter which, not to him. Brick relayed his clue about Ruby, what he thought it might mean, and the need to collaborate after taking down Cleddyf. Tish responded with pleasure that he was so optimistic they all would succeed and survive. She wanted him to superposition to her location so they could, in her words, get busy. But, as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t take the chance. Zindriya’s actions of late had been bizarre. She was up to something, and he didn’t know

what. It wouldn’t do to have Tish’s scent all over him. She had been right before. It takes time for someone else’s scent to wear off of you. “I don’t call it superpositioning anymore. You were right. It’s too clunky. I settled on shifting.” “I like it. So what are you truly worried about with Ruby?” Tish’s crossed arms, cocked eyebrow, and turned up corner of her mouth greeted Brick’s wide eyes and dropped jaw. “How the hell did you know why I called?” “Practice, lover.” “Huh?” “After spending so much time together during our project, I know you almost as well as I know myself. Cliché, I know, but there it is.” “Still in the dark.” “The only reason you would break cover would be to talk about Ruby. I hoped it was because you wanted to get with me, but when you didn’t, she was the only other logical reason.” “I seriously need to listen to my heart more, don’t I?” “You’re getting there, math-boy. It takes a while to get past a lifetime of propaganda, and you’ve made amazing progress, enough to earn my love. Now, what about Ruby?” The whole scenario with Ruby seemed staged to Brick. She could access the Field but didn’t use it to challenge them. Sure, she had tried to harm Tish but had given up far too quickly. Brick sensed that she was manipulating them. To what end, however, he was not sure. Tish placed a hand on her chin and dropped the inside of her eyebrows onto the bridge of her nose. After a few seconds, she agreed with Brick. During the attack, Tish had noticed that her invulnerability had begun to

overcome the effects of the increased gravity. Still, she also felt that Ruby had given up far too quickly. She had too much command over the Akashic Field to press the attack with a single tactic. Ruby wanted Brick there, and she wanted to see how far he would go. It was as though she assessed his abilities and had found them, at the very least, adequate. Brick had come to the same conclusion then took it one step further. “I think she planned the whole thing with dad, his lab, her resurrection, all of it. I just don’t know her motivations. We need to know that to determine her goals.” “How do we find that out?” “I wish I knew. We need to figure out a way to find Ruby and hold her long enough to get some answers.” “I might have a way. I found what Ruby was looking for.” “Really? What was it?” Tish had hacked into Flint’s computer and discovered a plethora of information, including how they could imprison Ruby’s physical form with a tailored energy barrier. Tish held up a three-inch by four-inch rectangular object about onequarter of an inch thick. Black and gold circuitry covered every inch of the exterior. Tish rotated it so that Brick could get a good look. There was a slot impressed in one of the short edges as though it fit onto something. “This is a code key but the weirdest one I’ve ever seen. According to Flint’s notes, the white coats infused it with Ruby’s altered DNA. They used it to sync a standard energy barrier to trap Ruby,” Tish shook the device, “This is what pissed her off and what she was looking for. It’s the only thing that can hold her.” “And we can use it to draw her into a trap.” “My thoughts exactly.” “I’m thinking I should hold on to that.” “And if she comes back for it?”

“Tell her I have it. Let her try to come and take it.” “I have to be there with you. Why don’t I keep it? She can’t hurt me. She tried before, ?” “But she can hurt Mara, and she will to get you to turn it over to her. If I have it, Ruby will have to face me directly.” “And you’ll call me for help, right?” Brick hesitated. “Right?” Tish raised her voice and seared him with her gaze. He knew he had no choice but to agree. This new Tish was awesome and a bit fearsome as well. She wouldn’t take any BS from him and would likely detect it if he tried. “I will. Damn. I love the new you as much as I did the old.” “Did?” “I misspoke. I meant to say as much as I do the old you.” “Better,” her voice softened, “I don’t want to lose you Brick, anymore than you, me.” “I can’t lose you, Tish. If I do....” Brick trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence but Tish did it for him, proving, yet again, how much they truly belonged together. “If you do you would tear down the fabric of all creation and cast it into the abyss.” “Something like that.” “Kinda how I feel too. Scary knowing we’re capable of doing it. I can see how supervillains can be seduced by the power and how important Peter Parker’s uncle’s saying was.” “Now I’m really impressed. You are, officially, the wimpy, pacifist nerd-freak’s

girlfriend.” Tish chuckled at his statement, “How do I give this thing to you? You’re not here.” Brick reached out his hand, “Touch it to my hand. I’ll try to absorb it into the shift.” Tish did as he asked, and it worked. Brick was able to grasp the code key. That was a good indication that his control over the Field was improving with usage. Such a skill might be useful in certain situations. In this case, however, it proved to be irrelevant. He witnessed her face relax into a half-smile and soft eyes as her next question validated his deduction. He was getting to know Tish much better. “I want one kiss before you go, Brick. Just a kiss, okay?” Brick put the code key in the small of his back under the edge of the towel then shifted into Tish’s arms. Their kiss was brief but intense as Tish took the liberty of wrapping her hands around his manhood. “You touched mine. It’s only fair,” she responded as a devilish grin spread across her face briefly, “I love you, Brick.” “I love you, too, Tish.” Brick reluctantly extracted himself from her embrace and shifted back to the shower room before he changed his mind. He checked to see that the code key was still in the small of his back, just in case. It was. ❖

*****

❖ Ruby’s hand rested on the back of Mara’s neck as they stood beside the door to Brick’s bedroom, listening. Ruby was gently caressing her daughter’s tense neck muscles while golden sparkles dripped from her fingers and across Mara’s

shoulders. “I need that code key, my darling daughter. I want you to retrieve it at your first opportunity.” “Yes, Mother,” Mara responded in a voice that sounded light and wispy, far from the command tone she usually projected, “but why? It’s safe with Brick.” The sparkles increased intensity, and so did Ruby’s voice, “He is not to be trusted with that key, Marble. It belongs to me, and Mason has no right to it, understand?” “Yes, mother. I will do my best to retrieve it for you.” “Good.” “But what do you need it for? You’re free from its influence now.” Ruby was getting frustrated. Zindriya had been so much easier to manipulate. Marble should not have been able to put up so much resistance to her power. Her bond with her brother was much stronger than she had predicted, perhaps too strong. She didn’t want to destroy her daughter’s mind to get the code key. “It is much safer in my hands, my darling daughter. It is of great danger to your brother. The longer it remains in his possession, the more likely it is that the key will harm him. Neither of us wants that, do we?” “No, Mother, we don’t. I will do as you ask.” “Thank you, Marble. Just wait until after the battle with Cleddyf. His guard will be down then.” “Understood, Mother.” “Good. Sleep well, dearest Marble, Mother loves you.” Ruby removed her hand from Mara’s neck and watched as she shambled down the hallway and into her room. She shifted to a nearby Cleddyf hideout, where she had set up a temporary living space. ❖

*****

❖ “We’ve got you dead to rights now, asshole.” Brick phased just in time to save himself from the onslaught of rounds fired from the MP5s aimed at him. Bruno’s posse had been waiting for him to return. Stupid of him to think that they would just give up after he had killed their leader. As four of them depleted their clips, a fifth pointed a device in Brick’s direction. Brick snorted at his ridiculous gesture until an energy beam from the device struck him while phased, immobilizing him. He had known that Zindriya had been too confident in her power over him. He had suspected that Cleddyf had given her an ace in the hole. He’d been right. Brick closed his eyes and filled his mind with thoughts of Tish, but the rift did not open this time. He could feel his phase diminish as the four replaced their depleted clips. If he didn’t think of something soon, he was dead. Phasing didn’t work, nor did hyper or his strength. Resonance. That thought invaded Brick’s mind. They had figured out his quantum resonance frequency and the signal that interrupted it. It would only work for a short time, but it would likely be long enough for them to mow him down with a hail of 9mm from those MP5s. He felt a presence in his mind, a familiar one. Brick had felt it the day he had killed Bruno. It was the Espada Encantada calling to him. Ever since the incident with Bruno, he went nowhere without that sword. It was in the gym shower but on the other side of his enemies. Venga, Brick psychically projected the Spanish command for come. The sword flew to his hand, removing the soldier’s arm holding the resonance device as it whisked by. Brick was free from its influence and felt his connection to the Field resume, but the Espada had saved him and required its due as it flamed with white fire. The sword drank in the blood of the soldiers as their sundered bodies fell to the floor, then settled into a steady hum. Brick smiled, sharing the strange sensation emanating from his savior. The Espada contained a sort of sentience, and it was old, ancient, and not wholly from his Earth. Part of it existed in other Earths, or

did, or will. As with the Quantum Universe, its existence did not conform to the same principles as the known universe. Brick would have to explore the origins of the sword later. They would attack Cleddyf in two days, and this incident might jeopardize that. He needed to disappear the soldiers and the damage to the shower. He didn’t know if he could do it all, but he would need Tish even to try. Brick opened his mind and filled it with thoughts of his beloved. She answered readily, and together, they got to work.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Betrayed

Brick meditated on the floor next to the bed as Zindriya snored softly. He’d had a hard time sleeping after watching her and A.B. go at it for hours. Apparently, the night before an operation, she got incredibly horny, more so than usual. He’d been surprised that she hadn’t reverted to her animalistic ways. She seemed to have genuinely changed because of him and A.B. She hadn’t had any more of her muses in the dungeon, and she’d even been less cruel to the Cleddyf prisoners her minions had captured during their reconnaissance missions. Sitting in a full lotus position usually relaxed him, but this time it was less than helpful. Still, it was better than sleeping next to Zindriya. He tried to empty his mind, but none of the techniques he’d learned at Nil Parity worked. Managing more than one psyche for so long was wearing down his mental abilities. He’d already decided to erase A.B. instead of merging with him. He had enough memories of the depravity he’d endured before Zindriya had changed. She’d invited others into their bed on many occasions, men and women. He had complied with her wishes though it had gone against his proclivities. There had only been one time Brick had been attracted to a man. It had been in high school, before the girlfriend who had died, and he’d been the most beautiful creature Brick had ever seen. They’d had a brief and torrid relationship that ended with the school year when his parents moved to New Zealand for work. For a time, Brick wondered if he might be bisexual, or at least bi-curious, but he’d never been attracted to another man since. He also thought he might participate in what used to be called the Down-Low culture, where straight Black men secretly sought out gay men for sex. Brick had never acted on that because he saw it as a betrayal to the memory of his ex-lover. Until his time with Zindriya, that had been the only time he’d had sex with another man. He had put his foot down when she’d wanted to bring animals into their bedroom.

Who am I kidding? I’m never gonna get any sleep. I gotta walk this off. As he walked through the fortress, he wished that the rift in his mind had stayed open so he could leave. And go where? Perhaps to Sunlight Peak in the mountains near Durango, Colorado. It had one of the most breathtaking views in the entire state, and he’d always felt at peace there. As he continued walking the empty, sterile, whitewashed halls of the expansive base, another thing that had been nagging him rose to the front of his mind. It had to do with phasing Tish through the couch and again when he used the technique to lift her. Phasing should have just re-aligned her quantum structure so that it would through another object. Widening the spaces between subatomic particles should not have affected her mass. It didn’t make sense that she had been lighter. Then there was what Ruby had done to Tish. Like running into a wall at full speed, it hit him. In an episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation, a nearly all-powerful being had explained how he would stop a Blackhole from destroying an inhabited planet. It was too massive for the crew to do anything about it. The being would just change the gravitational constant of the universe, which would alter the Black Hole’s mass, allowing him simply to push it out of the way. That was why Tish had been so light and why he could lift her so easily. He and his mother were able to affect the gravitational constant in a limited area. That was also how Ruby crushed Tish to the floor. She had not directly attacked Tish, just the area immediately surrounding her, by multiplying the force of gravity. Brick’s theory also explained why Tish’s ability had been able to slowly overcome his mother’s attack because Tish had acquired her power from him, directly from the Akashic Field. His hypothesis explained everything, but it seemed unbelievable. If that were true, together, he and Tish really could accomplish anything. That scared him, really scared him. So much power in the hands of two people. Was it a good idea for the two of them to be together? Would it corrupt them as it had Ruby? Too many questions, not enough answers, and no time to figure it all out. During his meanderings, Brick stopped by the lab to check on the status of the latest version of the Zero Point Module he had crafted. It had been running continuously for three days, and none of the imbalances that had driven the other models literally into dust had manifested. He ran an ultrasound to check for

microscopic stress fractures in the casing but found nothing. An analysis of the power flow showed none of the fluctuations of the previous models, and there was no degradation of the containment field. It appeared that the upgrade from a magnetic containment to a gravitic one had made all the difference. He had gotten the idea of a gravity-based containment field from a strange dream he’d had the night Zindriya’s now deceased goon, Venton Smythe, had kidnapped him. In the fantasy, he and Tish orbited Jupiter in a ship they had designed. The vessel utilized a gravitic drive that he and Tish had designed and built. The dream had also provided Brick with specific designs for circuitry and modules that directly translated to functional devices in the real world. It felt just like the old 1980’s movie Explorers, where extraterrestrials sent designs for building a spacecraft to a group of kids in their dreams. He ed a snippet of free verse he’d read somewhere, written by someone named Mirna Maldonado fifty years before. It was in Spanish and was titled “Si Lo Sueñas,” which loosely translated to “If You Dream It”: ❖ If you dream it, believe it, Work for it, achieve it. For what are dreams but realities Your waking mind has yet to discover, ❖ Knowing that he and Ruby could affect gravity had changed his thinking about a great many things. The possibilities were literally infinite. He’d decided that if his dreaming mind could invent a gravity drive for a spacecraft, his waking mind could at least create a gravity field to contain the necessary components for Zero Point energy generation. It had taken weeks, but he’d done it. Since then, his mind had begun analyzing the technology for possible conversion to propulsion for all sorts of vehicles, including spacecraft. He’d need a master coder to go that far, though. He’d need Tish. A stab of pain pierced his heart at the thought. He missed her so much, but it wasn’t time for that, not yet. He shoved the desire deep inside his mind where he could experience it when he hid from A.B.’s

subsequent encounter with Zindriya’s sexual demands if that time ever came. In a few hours, with any luck, they would have struck a severely damaging blow to Cleddyf, sending the rest of the cells into hiding. Then they would hunt each of them down one-by-one until the entire organization was only a rumor of a vague recollection in the scattered remnants of the few who would remain. After the main attack, Brick would take Zindriya to their headquarters that Mara led now that dad was dead, debrief her, extract as much information they could, then—then what? That was the question with which he must grapple. She’d had the same thing planned for him. She was going to seduce him, use him, then him off on Sandra. At least that had been the plan before her sister tried to take her down. Sometimes Zindriya’s idea of pillow talk was disturbingly enlightening. Actually, it was mostly disturbing. After Brick dealt with Zindriya, he would have to face Tish carrying all that baggage just to lay it on her shoulders. Add to that the gravity-affecting thing, and God knew what other abilities he had yet to discover. She shouldn’t have to carry that burden. This was his mess. Yeah, he’d agreed to give her two days, but some deals needed to be broken. At least that’s what he told himself. Brick didn’t believe it, deep down, but his guilt forced him to think it was a plausible excuse. In his heart, he knew it was a lie, and he’d burn for it. Tish’s words still rang in his mind “...we’ll figure it out if you listen to your heart and not your head...We’re attached at the heart.” Maybe it was time Brick listened to her and stopped burying himself in his ridiculously arcane notion of nobility. Perhaps the thing he once thought of as a shield had become a crutch. He’d ended up on the top floor of the house, in front of a window that faced the southern canyon wall. False dawn had broken, and he could see figures below him getting ready for the attack. Cleddyf had a cell in one of the abandoned mines near Leadville, Colorado, in the mountains west of Denver at a lungbursting 10,000-plus feet. It would take five hours to get there, and then they had to set up for the attack planned for midnight. They had also found an additional cell, bringing their total to seven. The other six teams were already in place all across the globe. Tish and Mara were together and commanding one team comprised of their own people ready to attack a cell in the northwestern part of Wyoming.

Brick returned to Zindriya’s quarters. She woke up when he walked in. “Hello, love. Couldn’t sleep?” “No. I always get butterflies before a big operation. If I force myself to sleep, I end up being more tired than if I just stayed awake.” She got out of bed, hugged, and kissed him. “I’m sorry. You know, you could have awakened me. I would have found some way to tire you out.” Zindriya really had changed. She was kind and comforting, where before, she would have been cruel and unyielding. If not for the history branded on his brain, he might have even thought about staying with her. However, something told him that the beast still lay just under the surface, waiting for the right catalyst. She took him by the hand and led him to the shower. Brick brought A.B. to the surface for what would likely be the last time. ❖

*****

❖ Brick and Zindriya felt lucky that the cell nearest them seemed to be a central hub. Taking it out would hurt the organization and put them on notice that they were no longer operating in a shroud of anonymity. Someone knew who they were and was coming after them. The hunters would become the prey. Any more euphemisms you can think of? Shut up, Bricktay. At first, Brick had been concerned with the increased appearances of Bricktay

until he realized what it was. Balance. There had to be consequences for splitting your mind into pieces. It took an unimaginable amount of will and energy. All of that power had to come from somewhere, and the excess had to be ed for somehow. The universe was balanced, or so said the Law of the Conservation of Energy. No energy was ever created or destroyed, simply shifted from one place to another or one form to the next. Bricktay was the counterweight that sat on the opposite side of the scales of his mental stability. He was there to keep Brick precariously balanced on the razor’s edge between sanity and insanity. So far, it worked, but for how much longer? Brick shut down the brief exchange with his second, far more annoying, alter ego. It was thirty minutes before midnight, and their units were in place, all across the world. The coalition forces synchronized their attacks to midnight, mountain standard time because all but one of the cells hid in locations that would be dark at the time of the attack. ❖ Brick, Zindriya, and their shock troops of twenty of their best fighters were on top of a hill, directly across a shallow creek from the entrance to the cell’s hideaway. The area was densely forested, and you would miss the opening if you didn’t know exactly where it was. He would take one of the soldiers with him, phase into the facility, deactivate whatever countermeasures they could, and open the entrance. Two days before, he’d infiltrated the base and located everything he would need to render the facility accessible. It was time. Brick and his partner, a soldier named Naomi in her mid-thirties, pressed the buttons on their biometric attenuators then stood to leave. Zindriya stopped them and kissed Brick. It was an urgent, ionate kiss and, despite his attitude toward her, was stimulating. She whispered, “Please come back to me. Everything I’ve done is because I love you, Brick. After tonight, no one will ever take you away from me.” Brick thought that her confession was odd but pushed it aside and forced himself to lie to her, responding in kind. Guilt threatened to invade his mind, but he crushed it. There was time enough for that after everything was done. When Brick and his partner reached the rock wall about forty meters to the left of the mine entrance, he grabbed Naomi by the forearm, phased them both, and

walked through the wall. It only took a few seconds to traverse the ten feet to the storage room Brick had scouted the day before. No one waited in the roughhewn rock walls of the small chamber. The first stage of their plan was a success. The security room was fifty meters to the left, down the mine-like corridor outside the door. It was ten minutes to midnight. Naomi stayed in the storage room as he made his way to the security room. Something had been nagging at him ever since they had entered the facility. He shoved it to the side, thinking it was just a case of the jitters, but it exploded in his mind when his hand touched the security room door. There were no noises in the facility other than the soft susurration of the air circulating system. There was no radio chatter, no banter between soldiers, no coughs or sneezes, none of the noises a large group of people inevitably makes. Guards should have occupied the security room, but he could hear no heartbeats, none at all. Midnight fell in the deafening silence of the empty hideaway. Brick opened the door to the security room just to confirm that it was empty. It was. He walked back to the storage room, where Naomi still waited for him. Apparently, she wasn’t a part of whatever was going on. What was going on? Why was the hideaway empty? An arctic chill gripped Brick’s abdomen, and Zindriya’s words exploded in his mind. No one will ever take you away from me.

Brick had expected a trap. He thought that maybe there had been a leak in Zindriya’s organization, and Cleddyf had gotten word of their attack. It was a trap, alright, and there was also a leak. Zindriya was the leak, but the noose wasn’t for him. He left Naomi in the storage room without saying a word and strode confidently to the facility’s front door, activating the opening sequence for the massive blast doors. He went hyper and sped toward Zindriya, who was, predictably, still in the same place he’d left her along with all of her troops. “What have you done, Zee?” “What I needed to do, Brick. I’ve already nearly decimated Cleddyf’s hierarchy, and most of the remaining soldiers work for me now.” “Then why are we here?”

“The only way to ever be safe is never to have any more enemies, love.” “But we both still have enemies, Zee.” “None alive. Not after tonight.” “Wha...” Brick never finished his sentence. A massive wave of sound pummeled his mind and drove him to his knees. It was all he could do to keep from screaming. The pain was mind-numbing. He was on all fours when it began to subside. It was Tish’s siren song. Zee had set the trap for her and Mara. Zindriya’s words, No one will ever take you away from me, rang in his head once again. The rift in his mind was wide open, flooding him with power, eradicating the initial effects of the siren song. Brick stood and faced Zindriya. “This is your idea of love, Zindriya?” “You’re not going to her again.” “So you did know.” “I have cameras everywhere, Brick,” With the speed of a ghost, she drew her Browning High Power 9mm, “you’re not going anywhere, lover, you’re staying with me.” “You’re a Ghost. How?” “Connections, lover. Power down.” “You first.” Brick whisked the Espada Encantada from the sheath strapped to his back even faster than Zindriya could act. The blade glowed green as it sheared the barrel from the pistol. “I’ll be back to deal with you later, Zee.” He turned in the direction of the siren’s song and saw Tish and Mara pinned down by enemy fire behind a hastily-made barricade but safe for the moment.

Brick transformed into a mass of golden light existing in both places at once. He looked back at Zindriya. “Those two are the only ones keeping me tethered to this world, Zee. Pray that they survive because if they don’t, you will become my muse, and I promise you that I’ll make you last for years.” He turned and stepped into the battle on the plains of Wyoming, ignoring her screams for him to return.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Destroyer

In the Ghost's Shadow lay the truth of its ing. In the Ghost's Shadow lay the path it has trod. Could the Ghost's Shadow hide the lie everlasting? Could the Ghost's Shadow hide the power of a god? From a burning journal recovered from a secret lab

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“It’s about time you got here,” Tish teased as the golden, Brick-cloud coalesced into humanoid form. “Next time, try and tone down the siren call, babe. You nearly blew my brain out of my skull.” Tish was in his arms in an instant, kissing him, despite the imminent danger of the enemy horde that approached. In the distance, he heard Mara say something about waiting until later, but both of them ignored her. There might not be a later, and they had waited long enough. “You done with her now?” “No. We have some unfinished business after we scatter these clowns.”

Mara chuckled, presumably at Brick’s comment. She told him that over two hundred soldiers were out there and that those clowns weren’t carrying oversized guns that shot out flags that said ‘Bang’ on them. Those clowns had killed or captured their entire team, and she and Tish had gotten out only because of Lil sis’ invulnerability. Brick loved the fact that Tish was now family to Mara, ad wondered what she had done to earn such an honor, but there was no time to dwell on it. They were in some trouble. Tish and Mara had their backs against a rock wall and had built up a makeshift fort using a few burned-out armored vehicles and scraps of thick metal shrapnel blasted from some other type of craft. It was effective enough to hold off the horde that approached until that horde got some troops above them, then it would be all over. Mara's periodic hyper-mode forays into the frontlines of the enemy kept them at bay, but Brick could see that the effort fatigued her. Tish carried the German Heckler & Koch G11, an odd-looking, rectangularshaped assault rifle supposedly canceled in the 1990s. It fired a 5.56mm caseless ammo, which meant no hot brass casings to trip over, and it was very light. Likewise, Mara wielded the Belgian-made FN P90, a submachine gun that fired both caseless and classic brass casing rounds from a top-loaded, horizontal-feed cartridge. Both weapons were highly effective, dependable, and extremely deadly. A plan brewed in Brick’s mind. “I have an idea, but you’re not going to like it.” “You know, I’ve heard that line in too many movies, Brick. You should think up your own material.” “When did you get to be such a comedian?” “Since I got my boyfriend back. You are back, right? For good?” “Not going anywhere, love. First, we gotta get out of this mess.” “So, what’s your plan?” The army had regained some of its composure from the last time Mara put the fear of the Ghost in them, so Brick took the liberty of reminding them why they were afraid, just to keep the enemy at bay for a few more minutes. He returned several seconds later, then cleaned and resheathed his sword.

“Where did you get that sword, Lil bro? I’ve seen images of something similar before.” “It’s the Espada Encantada, and I got it from Zindriya’s collection.” “Dude, is it for real?” “Yeah, sis, it’s the real deal—blood, honor, and all.” “You figured it out yet?” “Somebody want to clue me in on what you two are talking about?” “Sorry, Tish. This sword I have isn’t supposed to exist outside of myth and legend. For lack of a better word, it’s got magical properties that I don’t quite understand.” “Yeah, lover, we know what Arthur C. Clarke said about magic. You’ve heard of the sword before?” “Just through stories and innuendos. I didn’t truly believe them until the Espada chose me after killing Bruno. It’s a long story, and we ain’t got the time right now.” “It chose you, Lil bro?” “Like I said, it’s a long story. Look, we gotta deal with the horde out there. Here’s my plan.” Brick quickly outlined his idea. “Lil bro, you have lost your damned mind. How do you think that’ll work?” “You saw what happened to the two at my house, Mara. From that high up, why wouldn’t it work?” “You’re on board with this, Lil sis?” “You got a better idea? Some secret cavalry we don’t know about ready to ride over the hill to rescue us? We’re it, Mara. The rest of our troops are spread across the world raiding empty bases because Cleddyf sent all of those soldiers

here to take us out.” “It was Zindriya. She did it to keep the two of you from taking me away from her.” “I am going to kill that bitch,” Tish growled. “No. This is my fault, and when the time comes, I’ll fix it.” “Brick, we’re partners in all of this. We’ll do things together from now on; no more cowboy shit, okay?” Tish smiled, took his hand, squeezed it, and Brick nodded his agreement. The women climbed onto Brick’s waist from either side and held on for dear life as he wrapped an arm around each of them. He phased them all and asked if they and their weapons were ready. When they agreed, he began. Brick hypered into the middle of the horde of soldiers, phasing through everyone between him and his goal. It felt indescribably weird ing through all of those living bodies, and he hoped that his ladies were doing okay. After four seconds, they arrived as near the center of the army as Brick could figure. He stopped, then jumped as hard and as high as possible, shooting the trio forty feet straight up. As they climbed, Tish and Mara let go of Brick’s waist but held onto him with one hand while pointing their weapons down at the crowd. Part one of the plan was a success so far. Part two was all Brick, and he didn’t know if it would work. As they rose, he looked down into a universe of light covered by a mass of shadow. The only break in the shadow was the path they traveled from their makeshift fort to the army’s center. Everyone they had phase-touched glowed, looking like a river crashing through a black canyon. As he had done in Tish’s house, he waved the lights beneath the shadows away. The area he covered was far greater than he’d calculated, and it looked as though half of the soldiers below had vanished into the abyss before he waved the lights back into place just as the trio reached the apex of the jump. Dear God, what have I done? It was time for part three of the plan. Brick grabbed onto Tish and Mara and

started a slow spin as they floated downward. The ladies opened up with their firearms, picking off as much of the retreating army as they could. The bullets unphased as soon as they left the rifles and rained down on the startled masses with devastating effect. The result was staggering. Brick had experienced fear in nearly all of its forms, but what he felt at that moment was stark, raving terror at the raw power he’d just displayed. He thought he had it all figured out before, but it turned out that he knew nothing. He had thought that the mark he left when he phased was what made him the Ghost’s Shadow, but it wasn’t. The last two lines of the verse that his father had found in the lab said it all, and he’d finally pieced it together. What he’d just done was what made him what he was. When they landed, Brick solidified them again as they stood in the middle of the fifty-foot diameter circle of land turned black by his power. Nothing within the zone lived, not a blade of grass, not an insect, and definitely nothing human. What remained of the military force ran as fast as their legs could carry them away from the blasted circle of death Brick and company had wrought. At best, maybe fifty still lived. Brick sank to his knees in the lifeless black dust and wept. “Brick, baby, what’s wrong? We won,” Tish leaned over him, hand on his back, caressing gently. “It’s too much, Tish. Too much power. I didn’t know, not until it was too late. It’s too much for one person. No one should be capable of that much death and destruction.” “But it’s not just you, Brick. I called you, and I opened the Field to you. You’re not alone in this. , I’m the Keymaster, and you’re the Gatekeeper.” “I know, but still...,” Brick pulled himself together, sort of, and stood while wiping the tears from his eyes, drawing black streaks across his face. He told them what he’d figured out on the way back down. “ the last two lines of that verse that dad found, Mara? They were: Could the Ghost’s Shadow hide the lie everlasting? Could the Ghost’s Shadow hide the power of a god?”

“Yeah, I , Lil bro, what does it mean?” The lie everlasting was that there was a difference between matter and energy. There was none; they were the same. It’s one’s perception that distinguishes one from the other. “Schrodinger’s cat, Heisenberg’s Uncertainty Principle, it’s all fucking true, guys, don’t you see?” Tears threatened to spill once again. “No, we don’t, baby. Calm down and explain it in English,” Tish pleaded. She moved closer and wrapped her arms around him. It seemed to help Brick, just a little. There was a phrase from the movie Prince of Darkness by John Carpenter that had stuck with him ever since he’d heard it. He paraphrased it for Tish and Mara. “Everyone assumes that time is linear, that cause leads to effect, that we are born, grow old, then die, but everything we understand about logic, time, and causality becomes little more than ghosts and shadows on the subatomic level. Ghosts and shadows, Mara. I think the white coats named us from what that physics professor said in the movie. The scriptwriter was freaking clairvoyant.” “Keep going; we’re getting there,” Tish urged. Brick took a breath and continued. “Okay. Okay. This is an extreme oversimplification, but to bottom-line it, Heisenberg suggested that you can’t predict a particle’s movement because it is too fluid. You can never pin a vector down because its state depends on you observing it. When you take your eyes off of it, it changes to something different. Schrodinger’s thought experiment with the cat supposes that you can’t know the actual state of a particle until you see it, and until you do, it exists in multiple states. That is why the cat is presumed to be both alive and dead until it fixes in one state over the other when you open the box and look at it. Following that stream of thought, matter and energy exist in both states until someone observes them as one or the other. Sorry, but that’s as simple as I can break it down.”

“I think I understand. Isn’t that somewhat like solipsism, where you can’t trust the reality of anything outside your own mind?” “Close enough, Tish. Quite literally, your perception becomes your reality.” “Kind of like in Heinlein’s Number of the Beast novel, right?” “Correct again, Tish. Whatever the mind imagines could be real on some plane in the Multiverse. Makes Heinlein seem like a prophet.” “What’s the ‘power of a god’ thing then?” “Access to the Akashic Field potentially gives you the ability to manipulate subatomic particles, which means the ability to create or destroy anything— everything. It gives you control over the forces of both Creation and Chaos; Life or Death. It means that someday I...,” Brick looked Tish in the eyes, “... or rather, we might be able to change reality itself. If Multipersonal Pantheistic Solipsism is a real thing, maybe we could visit the land of Oz as the travelers did in Number of the Beast.” “Well done, Mason. I knew you’d figure it out sooner rather than later. By the way, nicely done with the army. Don’t think I could’ve done better. Well, maybe I could have.” Brick swung around to face Ruby Redstone, or what was left of his birth mother, as she and another figure coalesced from a golden cloud. Her hand rested on Zindriya’s shoulder. The look on Zee’s face was a mixture of shock, horror, and rage, and then it softened as she looked at Brick. “That’s the final piece of the puzzle. You planned all of this, Ruby, didn’t you? What do you want, and why did you bring her?” “Zindriya? Well, the two of you have some unfinished business, yes?” “Your plan could have killed your daughter. Did that occur to you?” “Yes, it did. You have much to learn about the Field, my son....” “I’m not your fucking son, Ruby.”

“As I was saying, I knew you would figure this out. the non-linear aspect of time at the quantum level, Mason. Once you master the Field, you have access to many things currently beyond your ken. You will figure it out, though. I can see your neural pathways expanding.” “Brick, what’s all this?” Zindriya interrupted. “I’ll leave you to it. Make me proud, Mason.” “Kiss my ass, Ruby.” “Brick?” Pressed Zindriya. “You tried to kill my family, and we stopped them, that’s what.” “What has that little bitch done for you, Brick? I betrayed my employer just for you. I destroyed Cleddyf’s leadership and took over for you. I rescued your mother for you. For the first time in my life, I let myself fall in love just for you. This is how you repay me?” “Um, I must interject that without me, Zindriya, you wouldn’t have taken over Cleddyf.” Brick glared at Ruby, then turned his blistering gaze on Zindriya, “then you tried to kill the two people on this godforsaken planet I love most, Zee. Is that what you call love?” “They were the only ones standing in the way of our happiness, Brick. Without them, you would stay with me and love me as I do you.” “I never loved you, never would love you, and never could love a vile, despicable, self-centered creature like you. Ever.” Zindriya’s face morphed into a mask of unbridled hatred. Brick readied himself for anything. He was still in the Field, and Zindriya blazed like a Christmas tree on steroids. Ruby had done something to her; he just didn’t know what. “Then I’ll take a love for a love, asshole.” Zindriya went hyper, snatched a knife from a bandolero on her thigh, and in one,

smooth motion, winged it at Mara. Brick and Tish were just a hair ahead of her. One of Brick’s throwing knives was already whistling toward Zindriya before her hand even touched the hilt of her blade. Tish had previously drawn her .50cal Desert Eagle and had fired less than a quarter-second after Brick unleashed his own deadly missile. After hurling his blade, Brick powered toward Mara, hoping he wouldn’t be too late. He didn’t trust his ability to disintegrate the moving projectile since he’d only get one shot. Mara had, uncharacteristically, been caught flat-footed and had tried to go hyper, but there was no time. Time? Ghosts and Shadows. Brick went golden and shifted himself in front of the knife a fraction of a second before it struck Mara. The knife impaled him in the chest. Brick crashed into his sister; both of them tumbled to the ground. ❖

*****

❖ Tish screamed and ran to the siblings. “No, no, no, no! Please God, no!” She was at Brick’s side as Mara slid from under him, still seemingly in shock at the turn of events. Tish held Brick’s hand and called to him, but he wasn’t responding. The knife still protruded from his chest, and she reached for it. Mara stopped her, saying that it would only make it worse. It didn’t make sense to Tish because how could it get worse than death? “Calm down, Lil sis, and listen.” What the fuck am I supposed to listen to? Then she heard it. It was faint, but it was there. Brick’s heart was beating, and his chest rose and fell. How could that be? The knife impaled his breastbone like a dart on a bristle board. Before she completed her thought, Brick sat bolt upright, opened his eyes, and gasped for

breath. ❖

*****

❖ “Fuck that hurt, and why does everybody keep calling me asshole,” He shouted, yanking the knife out of his chest. It made a sucking sound as it came free. Tish held his hand and looked as though the dead had just come back to life. Mara was damn near choking him, and he swore he heard her crying. This was verified by what were probably tears drowning the collar of his shirt. Ruby was in the same spot as before, smiling as though she’d predicted the whole turn of events, and Zindriya lay dead in a sea of her own blood. Brick started laughing but had to stop because of the pain it caused in his chest. “Don’t make me laugh, don’t make me laugh.” “What’s so funny, and why are you still alive?” Brick gave Tish a quizzical look and laughed again, cringing in pain at the same time. “Oh shit. Sorry, I didn’t mean it the way it sounded.” Brick took his hand hers, “I know.” He was beginning to feel the effects of what he’d done. He guessed the adrenaline was wearing off. Brick told them about the prophecy of Zindriya’s death made by one of her muses she’d named Babel: When the lover becomes the liar, the eagle will strike, and your silver tongue will drown you in the Red Sea!” Brick was the lover that had become the liar; his knife had wedged itself in the

roof of her mouth, giving her a silver tongue and undoubtedly caused blood to cascade down her throat, drowning her. The round from Tish’s pistol was the eagle’s strike and had torn through Zee’s femoral artery, spilling almost all of her blood on the ground. She had died in the Red Sea of her blood. Tish looked at him strangely and asked, “don’t take this the wrong way, but how are you alive?” Brick had a hard time keeping his eyes open. The events of the last hour or so had nearly drained him, and he could feel his control of the Field slipping. Before he could answer, Ruby sauntered over and interrupted. “He phased solid. That’s why the knife only went in part of the way. It takes a crap-ton of energy, though. It's much more difficult to compress subatomic particles than to expand the distance between them, like regular phasing. Damned impressive, my son. The two of you have done better and have come much farther than I could have ever imagined in so short a time. I’m proud of you both.” “Fuck you, Ruby. You almost got my boyfriend killed.” “The active word is almost, yes?” She raised her hand in supplication as fire flashed in Tish’s eyes. “I’m leaving. Look, there may be times ahead where we will be at odds but trust me when I say that we are working toward the same goal. The two of you and the Espada may be the only ones that make the difference between this planet living or dying. The thing that created us is coming to collect, and we have to be prepared.” “What thing?” “I wish I knew, but I guarantee that when it gets here, there will be no mistaking it.” “What does it have to do with Brick and me?” “Have you read the Bhagavad Gita, Mason?” “Yes,” Brick said weakly, having a hard time keeping his eyes open. He was so tired. He also wondered why Mara was staying out of this whole thing.

“Don’t be like Prince Arjuna. Don’t make a god convince you to do your duty.” “What duty?” “Prince Arjuna balked at warring against those who were family and friends, but if he didn’t, everything his family had done to improve the lives of their people would have been destroyed. Krishna morphed into his true form as the god Vishnu to convince Prince Arjuna to do his duty and go to war for the good of all. You and your girl may face the same decision, and the fate of everyone may lie in your hands.” Ruby departed in a flash of golden light. Brick ed out. ❖

*****

❖ Brick woke up in a hospital bed. Mara was holding his hand, staring at him. “Hey, sis.” She pounced on him, wrapping him in a bear hug. He groaned in a mixture of pain and joy. “Sis, I’m happy to see you too, but your boobs are digging into my chest, you frigging hag.” “Oh, sorry, I didn’t even think. You okay, Lil punk-ass negro?” “Yeah, I’m fine,” Brick swallowed hard. His throat was dry, “about that time, how long?” “Three days, lazy butt,” she paused and handed him the cup of water next to his bed, “man, Tish is gonna be pissed. She hasn’t left your side since we brought

you here. I forced her to go shower and grab a bite to eat a half-hour ago. She was getting a bit whiff, if you know what I mean.” “Hand me my clothes, please.” “Before I do, you need to know something.” “Don’t preach, sis. I’m in too much pain.” “Brick, that woman loves you. I have never seen anyone do the things she did to find you, Lil bro. It was because of her that we found Zindriya’s fortress. She deserves a chance before you go all noble on her. She’s the strongest person I know, and she’s family. Think about it, okay?” Tish walked into the room carrying a book about that time but tossed it on the bed and flew to his side. “Brick! You’re awake. Thank God, I was so worried.” “Me too. Somebody hand me my clothes. I need to get out of here.” Brick looked at the book, noticing that it was the Mahabharata, the longest poem ever written, and within it was the Bhagavad Gita. “Uh-uh. You’re not going anywhere until the Doc releases you,” Tish commanded. Mara stood up to leave, citing the fact that she wouldn't get sucked into a lover’s quarrel in a hospital. She exited the room, closing the door behind her. “So, you plan on going all noble bastard on me and flaking out?” “I just don’t know, Tish.” “Don’t I get a say? I mean, I am involved and all.” “The things I did, Tish, how can you still love me?” “You mean, how can you love yourself. As mom once said, the problem doesn’t lie with us.”

“I know.” “Do you still love me?” “I do. I never stopped.” “Then stay, Brick. Even your moth... even Ruby knew that together we could accomplish anything.” Tish reached into her bag on the floor at the foot of the bed. She pulled out fresh clothes and tossed them to Brick. While he dressed, Tish told him that their invention for the science project had gone global and that she had sold the manufacturing rights, though they still owned the patent. They had more than enough money to live off of for the rest of their lives, and the residual income would just add to that. They had done that together. They had taken down the most dangerous person on the planet together, and if Ruby were right, they would one day save the world together. She didn’t care what he’d done with Zindriya because he’d done it to get back to her. They both had done things that had changed them forever, and throwing it away would make all their sacrifices meaningless. In her eyes, the only way they would ever get through it, the only way to justify their sins, was to stay together. Tears fell from her red-rimmed eyes as she pleaded her case. “We can get through this if we just stay together, Brick.” He gazed into Tish’s weeping eyes and found such emotion in them he melted inside. All of his reasons for leaving turned to ash in the forge of her love. It was time for him to follow his heart. “Together?” “Yes, Brick, together.” A half-smile crept across his face. He still wasn’t sure it would work but living with Tish, no matter how difficult, would be light years better than just existing without her. “Deal.” Tish choked out a half-laugh/ half-sob and leaped into his arms.

They sealed the deal.

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About the Author

I have done a lot of things in my life, but what has brought me much joy, aside from my wife and kids, is writing. It offers me the opportunity to share experiences that I am not really allowed to talk about. Much of what I write about is what I have lived in one form or another, just in different settings. I hope you enjoy my Clifstories! U.S. Navy Veteran with some field experience. 12+ years as a line and middle manager 16 years as a CDL Class A truck driver I currently drive for IN-N-Out Burgers as a shuttle and delivery driver. Best job ever with some AWESOME fringe benefits. We get a meal per day for freeeeee! Read more at CB Arnold’s site.