Black and White (29 page)

T
aser jumped down first, crinkling his nose under his mask as the smell of the Rat Network drifted out of the grate. “Remind me why we’re doing this again?”

“Dortmunder and Burke,” said Iridium, taking his proffered hand and jumping down. She stumbled a little until Taser caught her, his arm around her shoulders.

“Supervillains distinguished by their silly surnames?” he said.

“Architects. They designed a lot of the new downtown after the flood. They also designed the Academy complex.”

Taser stopped walking. “You can’t think that they’ll have plans for the Academy lying around.”

“If we’re going to hack the Ops network, we have to do it from inside the Academy,” she insisted, moving past him.
“And by law, the firm that designed the complex is required to keep plans on-site.”

“Don’t know if you noticed this,” he said as he caught up to her, “but Corp isn’t bound by any law except how much cash and how many extrahumans it can toss at a problem.”

“I also know that Johann Dortmunder was indicted about ten years ago for conspiracy. He sold
his copies
of the Academy plans to the Everyman Society. They’d planned a bomb, or a raid, or something before Corp stepped in. Dortmunder got off with conspiracy, but …” She threw him a glance over her shoulder. “Would you get rid of an insurance policy like plans to the hallowed halls?”

“No, I surely wouldn’t.”

They walked in silence for a few minutes through the patchwork light. When they rounded a corner that led them farther into the darkness, Taser said, “What do you hope to accomplish by hacking Ops?”

“I don’t hope to
accomplish
anything,” said Iridium grimly. “I hope to show the Squadron that they’re just as vulnerable as the people they’re supposed to protect. That if they don’t have their little voices and Corp behind them, they’re fallible, and nothing for people to be afraid of. I want people to see that. I want—”

Taser held up his hand, and as she stopped, Iri thought once again that he all but radiated military. “You hear something?”

Iridium stilled herself and listened, over the drips and echoes of the tunnels, and the slow sliding trickle of the stagnant stream in the gap in the floor. Voices bounced off the curved walls and came back.

“What did you …”

“Say hello … Lynda Kidder …”

JET

Jet slowly backed up, her gaze riveted on the monstrous form of Lynda Kidder. To Moore she spat, “What did you do to her?”

Moore chuckled wetly, the sound of an old man drowning in laughter. “Ms. Kidder was kind enough to test our defense against your kind. A serum designed to augment the human physique.”

Just what she needed: a mad scientist wannabe. Jet took another step back. “Was she kind enough to volunteer?”

“Under duress, absolutely.”

In front of her, Kidder snarled. She still hovered in the
doorway of her cell, a dictionary definition of violent potential. But as threatening as she appeared, she hadn’t made a move against Jet. Perhaps there was enough of Kidder’s mind left to stop her from attacking.

But based on the way she was frothing at the mouth, and how she kept flexing her bulging muscles, probably not.

“Easy,” Jet said to the hulking reporter. She couldn’t risk hurting Kidder; the reporter wasn’t the bad guy here. Just posing as one. In a very, very convincing manner. “Lynda, I’m here to help you.”

Kidder’s lip curled into a sneer. Saliva leaked down her chin, and her low growls grew louder.

“She can’t understand you, you know.”

Eyes on the huge woman, Jet said to Moore, “So this is your way of opposing Corp? A drug that turns people into mindless monsters?”

“We won’t be easy meat for you.”

Jet didn’t pull her gaze away from Kidder, so she didn’t see Moore as he spoke, but she had no doubt that his eyes were gleaming with the fervor known only to psychotics and religious fanatics. She did, however, see a ripple of tension wash over Kidder’s body.

“We’ll fight back with everything we’ve got,” Moore said. “With everyone we can get our hands on.”

“You’re insane.”

“I’m committed to defending humanity against your kind.”

“My kind
helps humanity.” She would have said more, but Kidder took a lumbering step forward, growling like the pit bull Jet had thought was in the cell. Jet’s heartbeat slammed in her chest. Light, she hated dogs. She hated rabids. She hated Iri for getting her in this position.

Hate later
, she told herself, forcing her breathing to remain steady.
First defuse the situation.

Moore, oblivious to or uncaring of his own danger, said, “We don’t want your help, freak. We don’t want
you.”

Jet put her hands out, palms forward, to indicate that she didn’t want to fight Kidder. The malformed reporter’s growling increased.
Damn.
“And you’ll destroy innocent people to make your point?”

“There are always casualties in any battle worth fighting.” He paused, then said, “Acceptable losses.”

The growl kicked up into a roar of challenge, and Kidder charged—meaty fists raised overhead, ready to slam them down like sledgehammers.

Jet didn’t dare go on the offense, let alone use Shadow as a weapon. Kidder was an innocent, no matter how freaking huge and insane she was. So instead, Jet threw herself to the left, felt the wind from the enormous fists slicing the air.

She landed on her feet, spun, and dropped to a crouch as Kidder stormed forward, her right arm pulled back for another swing. Jet ducked under the punch, trusting Kidder’s momentum to carry the huge woman forward a few paces.

Careful. Enclosed area. Not a lot of room to maneuver.

Jet spun to see Kidder already charging her, fist already careening toward her.
Damn it, she’s fast!
With a grunt, Jet threw herself to the right. She heard Kidder’s hand connect with the wall, and turned to see the misshapen woman pull her gigantic fist free … Jet blinked at the damage to the tunnel wall.

Fast, and unnaturally strong. Like Earth-power strong.

Oh boy.

IRIDIUM

A spillway door rumbled free ahead of Iridium and Taser, and she put a hand on his arm. “Somebody’s down here.”

“You think?” he said humorlessly.

Iridium created a twin pair of strobes, no larger than marbles, to shed light just ahead of them, and started to walk.

“Maybe we should go a different way,” Taser muttered behind her.

“No,” she said. “Something’s wrong.” Voices were rising, distorted by the tunnel walls but definitely shouts.

“And you say you’re not a hero.”

Iridium smiled at him before peering around the junction in the tunnel. “I never said I was the bad guy, either.”

“Don’t mind if you are,” said Taser. “A vigilante and a villain. That’s kind of hot.”

“My mother thought so.”

“And the mood keels over, dead.”

Iridium poked him on the shoulder. “Shh. Someone’s coming.”

An old man in pajamas rounded the corner, so busy looking behind him that he slipped into the slough. With a curse, he pulled himself up, soaked from waist to ankles. He launched into a run again—and shrieked when Taser stepped in front of him.

“I’m innocent!” he cried, shielding his face with his hands.

“Settle down!” Taser said, grabbing the old man by the arm.

The civilian looked between Taser and Iridium, his eyes going wide. “Oh Christo, not more of you people. What do I have to do to get away from you freaks?”

“Nice,” Taser said. “You don’t see me insulting you about how you just wet yourself, do you? What’re you doing down here, anyway?”

“Getting away. Now let me go!”

“Hey,” Iridium said, staring at his wrinkled face, “do I recognize you?”

He turned to her. “I highly doubt that, freak.”

“I do. You’re that doctor,” she said, placing him. “You
worked in the Mental wing at the Academy. You used to assist with Therapy.” She spat the last word.

“I never worked at the Academy,” he sniffed. “And I’m not some wannabe brainwasher.”

She leaned into him, got in his face. “No? Then how do you know what Therapy is?”

“I do not have to suffer the insults of a rabid girl wandering around in some filthy tunnel,” he warbled. “You’re mistaking me for someone else.”

Taser lifted the old man off his feet by the front of his pajamas, and the old guy squeaked like a trapped mouse. “Want me to beat the hell out of him, Iri?” Taser gritted.

Iridium was about to tell him not to bother when a crash came from farther down the tunnel, followed by the distinct sound of a body hitting brick.

JET

Maybe slamming her monstrous hand into the wall had hurt Kidder, because the woman bellowed and charged forward.

Jet leapt up, landed on Kidder’s massive shoulder, and vaulted off, landing a couple of yards away. Crouching on the ground, Jet was sweating. And Kidder was already turning, getting ready to come at her again.

Forget pulling punches. Take her down, fast.

Jet summoned a floater of Shadow and used it to catapult herself, feetfirst, into Kidder’s chest. Kidder staggered back as Jet landed heavily on her feet, her boots splashing in the debris-filled water.

And then Kidder barked out a laugh.

Uh-oh.

Jet tapped her comlink, about to tell Ops where she was and to request backup, but then Kidder was right there, swinging at her, and all Jet could do was dodge. And again. Still Kidder attacked, punching almost lazily with huge
fists. Jet ducked in and rabbit-punched Kidder in the gut, one two, one two three—

—and grimaced as she backpedaled. Damn, the woman was solid muscle! And the punches hadn’t done anything, other than make Jet’s hands sore. Sparring wouldn’t work; Jet was breathing hard, and Kidder only looked annoyed. The gigantic woman raised her fists overhead, ready to slam them down like the monstrous weapons they were.

With a grunt of effort, Jet threw Shadow at Kidder, shaping it into viselike bonds to pin the woman’s arms to her side. Kidder growled, flexed …

… and snapped the bonds.

Jet gasped from the pain. It felt like something in her head had snapped along with the Shadow, like a hot blade had seared her and cauterized the wound before the blood could flow. Tears blurred her vision, and she blinked them away to see Kidder stomping toward her with murder in her eyes—her fists already raised for striking.

Lips peeled back in a snarl, Jet reshaped the broken Shadow into a graymatter shield, threw it overhead just in time to deflect the sledgehammer blows. The impact sent Jet to her knees, but she kept her arms raised and her shield up.

Kidder slammed her fists down again, and Jet cried out when the shield cracked—a sudden, stabbing pain in her head overrode everything else. She doubled over, clutched her head in her hands. Her body trembled, and her mind screamed that Kidder was
right there, damn it, keep fighting
! But she couldn’t move. Light, she hurt so badly, she almost wanted to die.

Something wrapped around her left arm, brutally yanked her forward.

Jet’s eyes snapped open, and she stared into her opponent’s face. If there was any part of New Chicago’s fearless reporter left, it was buried far beneath the monstrous beast
that possessed Lynda Kidder’s body. Nothing remotely human stared back at Jet; just animal eyes, filled with a mad desire to rend and tear and maim.

“Lynda,” Jet whispered. “Don’t—”

Kidder grinned, and Jet’s words shriveled on her tongue.

Gripping Jet tightly by the arm, the massive woman swung her back. Jet screamed as her shoulder popped from its socket. Kidder pitched her like a fastball, and Jet hurled backward through the air, still screaming as she flew—and then crashed into the wall.

IRIDIUM

“Hey—hey, damn it, get back here!”

Iridium turned to see the old man darting down the tunnel, heading away from the commotion.

Taser let out a snort. “That’ll teach me to get distracted by the sounds of certain death. You want I should go after him?” In the other direction, the screams and grunts continued. The walls of the tunnel shook, and the lights flickered as another crash echoed.

“Never mind him,” she said, turning back to whatever lay ahead. Part of the wall had caved in; a gaping hole, easily large enough for her to step through, yawned between the bricks and plast. Iridium slowly walked toward it. “The Undergoths will find him before he finds the surface.”

“Fine by me,” said Taser, falling into place beside her. “What on the scorched earth is that racket?”

“Jet,” said Iridium in surprise, staring through the hole in the wall. Careful to avoid the ragged pieces of broken brick and pipe, and especially the dangling wires, she watched Jet launch herself out of view.

Iridium turned to see who Jet was fighting … and her jaw dropped as Jet impacted against something far too big
to be a person. The creature lost ground, and Jet landed on her feet in front of it, breathing hard.

Christo
, Iridium thought, her eyes wide.
What is that thing?

The monster laughed, then charged Jet—who dodged the enormous fists, then maneuvered close enough to jab the creature with small punches. Jet stepped back, out of the thing’s reach.

Iridium bit her lip to keep from shouting out.
Shadow, Joan. Use your damn superpowers instead of proving how tough you are.

“That … thing is …” Taser shook his head. “What
is
that?”

“Some sort of sewer mutant.”

Taser turned to her, the eye slits in his goggles narrowed.

“What?” she demanded, glaring at him. “They exist. I saw it on
Mysterious Chicago.”