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“All right, all right,” Nine finally concedes, shaking his head. “Just let it be known, for the record, I’m against this.”
“Yeah, I get that. You put a signpost through his chest just a couple of days ago.”
“Ah, that’s a nice memory.”
“Your reservations are clear.”
“I’ll kill him if he tries anything.”
I glance at Nine. “I know. Why do you think I made you come along?”
Nine and I stop talking when we reach the padded room where we’re holding Five. The reinforced steel door only has a small porthole for a window and opens with a heavy-duty wheel like you might find in a bank vault or on a submarine. There are two guards posted in front, grim-looking marines clutching automatic assault rifles that wouldn’t do them a bit of good if Five managed to break out. They both look surprised to see us.
“I need him,” I say to the guards, nodding towards the locked door.
They exchange a look. “He’s a prisoner,” one of them says.
“I know. He’s our prisoner,” I reply.
“We are definitely not planning to let him loose,” Nine adds.
One of the guards steps aside and mutters something into a walkie-talkie. I let this all play out. Might as well make it look like I respect Lawson’s authority here.
The guard returns, shrugs his shoulders and produces a key ring.
“The general would like you to come see him on . . . another matter,” the guard tells me as he unlocks a mechanism that holds a three-prong wheel in place.
“Oooh, you’re in trouble,” Nine says.
“You can tell him I’ll catch up with him as soon as we’re done here,” I reply to the marine.
I figure word has reached Lawson that Six and the others left the base without notifying him. I’ve got no intention of wasting my time explaining our moves to the general; if he wants an update, he can come find me. I’ve got things to do. Of course, I don’t say any of that to the guard.
The wheel creaks when the soldier turns it, the door swings open and both guards step aside in a hurry.
“Wondered when you would visit.”
Five sits cross-legged on the floor of his padded cell and smiles at me and Nine. His arms are secured in a straitjacket, his legs in a pair of loose-fitting pajama pants and he’s barefoot. The floor underneath him is like one big cushion. There’s nothing in this room for Five to touch that would allow him to activate his Externa. Worst-case scenario, he turns his skin to cotton.
I didn’t supervise Five’s imprisonment. I wasn’t really in an emotional state to worry about him, so Nine and Sam arranged this setup. Looking at the padded room, you’d think it was specifically designed to hold Five. Lucky for us the spies who’d originally built this place were prepared for every possibility, including one of their number losing their mind in a post-apocalyptic scenario.
Five’s face is still bruised and swollen from where Nine decked him right after our battle on Liberty Island. In securing him down here, Sam and Nine even took away the grubby patch of gauze he’d been keeping over his eye. The empty socket stares at me.
“I need your help,” I say. The words leave a bitter taste in my mouth.
Five cocks his head to the side so that his good eye is focused on me. “You saved my life, John. I know you’ll never trust me. Not after everything that’s happened. But I’m at your service.”
Next to me, Nine groans. “I want to barf.”
Five turns to Nine. “You know, I accept responsibility for my actions, Nine. I know that what I did was . . . misguided. But when will you accept your part?”
“My part?”
“Always running your goddamn mouth,” Five growls. “If you only shut up once in a while . . .”
“So my jokes turned you into a psychotic traitor,” responds Nine. I notice his fists are clenched. He looks at me. “This is a stupid idea, John.”
I shake my head. “Look, when all this is over, if you two want to lock yourselves in a steel cage and work your shit out once and for all, that’ll be fine with me. But right now, we can’t waste any more time.”
Nine frowns and falls silent. Five keeps on staring at me like he can see right through me. After a second, he clicks his tongue.
“What a difference a day makes,” Five says. Then he addresses Nine like I’m not even in the room. “Yesterday he was doing everything he could to keep us from killing each other, remember? The Boy Scout. Now it’s all changed.” He fixes me with a smile that looks almost proud. “I see that look in your eyes, John. You weren’t ready before, but now you are.”
“Ready for what?” I ask, inwardly kicking myself for how easily I took the bait.
“For war,” Five replies. “Ready to do whatever’s necessary to win. Maybe ready to do more than what’s necessary, hmm?” He looks at Nine again. “You see it, too, don’t you? He’s like us now. Bloodthirsty.”
Nine doesn’t immediately respond. He’s got an uncertain look on his face; and, I realize, despite his hatred for Five, what’s just been said about me has struck a chord. How could I not be changed after what’s happened? If I’m bloodthirsty, if I’m willing to do whatever it takes to end Setrákus Ra, well, I’m not ashamed of that.
I ignore the entire exchange and look Five in his one eye. “I need you to teach me to fly,” I say.
Five concentrates for a moment and then he floats up from the cushioned floor. Cross-legged and with his shaved head, hovering four feet off the ground, he looks like a twisted version of a monk.
“This what you want?” he asks.
I study the way he floats. “It isn’t enough.”
He frowns at me. “You’ve got the copycat Legacy like Pittacus Lore, right? I saw what you did in New York with the new girl and her stone eyes. You just had to observe her Legacy. So, observe.”
It wasn’t as simple as Five seems to think. First of all, I was desperate. That always seems to help when it comes to mastering Legacies. I could also feel the power building when I tried to heal Daniela’s headache. My Ximic tapped directly into her budding Legacy, and I could actually sense how it worked. I think that’s why I was able to copy Marina’s healing Legacy without even knowing what I was doing and why I was able to re-create Six’s invisibility without too many problems. I’ve actually felt those Legacies before, had them used on me, touched the power. Watching Five float around like a sociopathic Buddha isn’t nearly hands-on enough.
“With Daniela, it was heat of the moment. Plus, I could sense how the Legacy worked,” I explain to Five. “Staring at you isn’t going to do me any good.”
“I’ve flown you around before,” Five reminds me. “Back on the first day we met. Don’t you remember what it felt like?”
“Probably like being carried around by a chubby ass hat,” Nine offers unhelpfully.
Ignoring Nine, I close my eyes and try to recall what it was like flying with Five. The feeling of weightlessness, my legs dangling, the idea that he might drop me at any second . . .
I look down at my feet, unsurprised to find them still on the floor.
“I remember what it was like to be carried,” I say. “That’s a lot different than actually propelling myself up in the air.”
Five gets a thoughtful look. It’s almost nostalgic. Not something I’ve ever seen before on his usually rage-filled face.
“Flying is a lot like telekinesis,” Five says after a moment. “Like how you visualize an object you want to move floating through the air. How you imagine making that happen and it happens. You guys did that crap a million times just like me, right?”
Nine and I both murmur agreement.
“Well, imagine you’re d
oing that to your own body,” Five continues. He jerks against his straitjacket suddenly and frowns. He was trying to spread his arms and forgot that they were strapped tight across his chest. “Hold out your arms and imagine strings underneath them, pulling you up.”
“Like a puppet,” Nine says.
“Like an actor in a show,” Five answers, glowering. “Rising up above the stage. Graceful.”
“Even lamer,” Nine says.
“Try it, John,” Five says gently. “Hold out your arms. Imagine you’re safely attached to the wires. Imagine your telekinesis can manipulate those wires and then stop imagining and do it.”
Even though I’m not entirely comfortable taking coaching from Five, I still extend my arms from my sides. I concentrate and try to imagine strings looped around me, connecting me to the ceiling, just like Five said. I pull at those strings with my telekinesis. I picture my feet leaving the ground, my body weightless on the air.
And then it happens. Something clicks, and I feel my sneakers lose contact with the floor. It’s only a few inches at most but still—it’s happening.
“Easy now,” Five says, his voice a whisper. “That’s good. Focus on keeping your body straight. Keep pulling yourself up on your strings.”
Even as Five says this, I can’t help but glance down at the floor to check on my progress. There’s a foot of empty space beneath where my feet dangle, and seeing that is somehow completely disorienting. My instinct is to wave my arms like I’m losing my balance. Suddenly, I’m pitched forward, still floating, but horizontal now, facing the floor.
“Focus!” Five snaps. “Remember the strings!”
The yelling doesn’t help. I do remember my imaginary strings, but instead of gently pulling on them to straighten back up, I give them a frustrated mental tug. I rocket upwards, feel my spine smack hard against the ceiling and then fall onto my face. Lucky for me the floor of Five’s room is padded.
Behind me, I hear Nine trying to stifle laughter. I push myself onto my hands and knees and glare at him.
“You could’ve caught me.”
Nine grins and mimes waving his arms in the air for balance. “Oh man, it was too good. I wasn’t thinking.”
