4/11/2079

At the age of sixteen, most girls are busy gossiping about people they are forced into school with, not stuck in the backroom of an illegal fight venue with a gangster monitoring your every movement. “Do you have to be eating that?” I asked, incredulous that he was eating a massive haunch of meat like some kind of savage.  

The thug gave me a confused glance as he ripped another mouthful of meat off the bone.  “Gotta get the smell of meat into that little monsters nostrils,” he said, his voice gruff.  

I felt pity for the ‘little monster’ in question since it was just an innocent dog, one that had been unlucky enough to be bred to fight.  The poor pup was drooling, smelling the meat amidst the stench of shit that filled the room. “Gregor, can’t you give him a little bit?”

My chaperone for the night shook his head, “Dog needs to be hungry.  Needs to be properly motivated. A desperate animal is a more dangerous one, be careful reaching close to his cage.  Ye might smell enough like food to him he’ll take a snap a ye’.”

I withdrew my hand away from the cage as the dog continued to pant and stare at the chunk of meat Gregor was holding.  

The Imperium member was middle aged, his body lean thanks to years of continued violence.  Scars marked the tanned forearms and splits in his skin could still be seen on his face from a fight earlier in the week.  His brown hair was slicked back, and he was dressed in garb one would associate with an old biker gang from Earth: jeans and a leather vest.  

“Lexi,” he said between bites, “I know you don’t wan’ be here.  I’m not an idiot.”

I could have debated the point, but I wasn’t about to lie over this, not if he knew.  

“Your ma and pa have been members forever, and this is their way to include you.  Maybe you should just be grateful that they want you to be a part of their life. Some people aren’t so lucky.”  

Lucky?  Gregor was going to talk to me about luck when I was being forced to watch a dog fight?  

“Gregor, you’re a nice guy, but I don’t want to be a part of this life.  I want to go home and read a book. Hell, I’d rather go home and fucking scrub the floor.  Anything.”

He took the comment in stride, for which I was grateful.  “I understand. But you have to remember, you’ve seen this now.  If cops show up any time soon, we only have one person to blame. Your folks may have a fair amount of pull, but they ain’t got that much.”  

“You think I’m dumb enough to call the cops on Imperium?”

The thug shrugged, “You never know with kids.  Sometimes they get a little stupid and someone should set them straight.”  

“I know that if my parents have said anything about me, it’s that I’m annoyingly smart and you should watch out for me.”  

“Aye, that they did,” he said with a laugh.  “You’re a quick one, they made sure to warn me.  Which is why I’m gonna level with you miss.” While Gregor was as nice as they came–for being a thug–he could get frightening very quickly.  “You’re here because you mom and dad insisted you get involved with Imperium business, see if you belong here. Tonight, you’re going to follow me and do what I say, otherwise I have to make you follow.”  

“I’m not dumb.  I’m not going to get in a fight with you, Gregor.”

Satisfied, he relaxed and set to finishing the end of his dinner, taunting the poor dog who hadn’t been fed in days.  

While he was a nice enough guy, Gregor did seem to have one misconception: he assumed that my parents were decent.  

For fucks sake, they were members of Imperium, a gang whose whole principle was human superiority over the Zari.  They were an exclusive gang that praised humanity and found it faultless, a victim forced into dire circumstances by an oppressive and unjust alien regime.  

That was where their grasp on reality seemed to falter.  

Imperium was convinced that humanity was supposed to carve out their own nook of Tso’got, to resume the old ways and put humanities needs above the local population.  They abhorred the Zari and sought to undermine them at every possible turn: corruption, vandalism, robbery, murder, etc. If there was a crime that would deal a blow to the Zari, they took it upon themselves to act.  

It was just a pride issue that refused to die.  The flames of hate were fueled by a handful of people who brought around drugs, booze, and cheap entertainment.  Everyone was fed a steady propaganda diet of human superiority and told to indulge in carnal and hedonistic delights as often as possible.  

Those who were involved saw no reason to opt out; why should they anyways?  It helped them forget how mediocre life was for humans on Tso’got in most cases.

Cops should have been able to round up most of these losers, but the problem was they had some notoriously strong Adapted in their ranks.  Considering they were basically a bunch of human-centric anarchists, it was a scary thought what some of their soldiers might do if a war broke out between them and the government.  

I was snapped out of my thoughts by Gregor getting off the stool he had been perching on.  Through a door there was a loud chanting and stomping as people waited for the next dog to be brought out into the ring.  

A spike in volume as the door was opened and someone poke their head through.  “Gregor, he ready?”

“Aye, he’s a hungry bastard!”

“Bring him the fuck out!”  

The gang banger strutted over to the kennel, provoking a growl from the mutt in the cage.  “Stand back, Lexi, the bastard might go for you, you’d be the easier meal if he slips out.”  

He seemed lighthearted and carefree, but I was still apprehensive that the dog might run for me; I took a few steps back to be safe.  As the cage was opened, the dog tried to lunge but Gregor was deceptively quick for a guy his size. He snagged the collar and held fast, lifting the dog just enough it wasn’t choking, but enough it couldn’t get traction to bolt.  

“Come on, girl,” he shouted to me as he hauled the dog to the door and flung it open with his free hand.  

I followed, and was hit with what felt like a heat wave from the mob inside.  Everyone was clamoring, shouting, holding money, screaming as they placed bets.  There was a slight rise to the room so people in the back could still see the fight in the middle, but most everyone was pressing to try and be against the circle of fence that constituted the arena  for the dogs. A path was cleared and a cheer went out as Gregor brought the next challenger through; people opened the gate and he tossed the dog through, pitting him against another mutt of about the same size.  

A few steps brought Gregor back to me; while I didn’t care for his presence, he was at least someone I knew and was somewhat familiar with. He was a known evil while everyone else probably just saw me as fresh meat in the crowd.  

If nothing else, he kept me safe in this sea.  

The dogs charged each other after a few barks and a roar of approval went up from the crowd; I was the only person in the room to look away in horror.  This was…wrong on so many levels.

“Don’t look away,” Gregor insisted, “It makes you look weak.  Besides, it won’t be long. My dog is a better fighter.”

He placed a hand on my chin and dragged my face back up to spectate.  

Gregor knew what he was talking about…and that made it almost worse to watch.  He knew the outcome before the contest even started.

My vision began to swim, my ears splitting from all the noise.  The arena smelled like sweat, blood, piss, and shit all blended together in a fetid fog that hung over the venue.  I raised my hands and covered my ears, but the throbbing still sounded as loud in my brain. Bodies jostled against me and I stumbled to my knees as everyone rushed ring side, Gregor’s dog had drawn blood and the tension was amping up rapidly.  

Gregor was distracted and didn’t notice I had been brought down, and neither did anyone else.  Someone stepped on my foot, another my calf, and people walked into me, oblivious. I fell to my hands and knees, my mind going blank as the noise in the room surged though I didn’t know why this time.  The floor smelled even worse with death and decay mixed into that pungent mixture.

I added vomit as my body revolted.  

“Stop,” I begged in a breathless whisper as I continued to shake on the floor.  “Stop!” This time I screamed, but it had the same effect: none at all.

People were absorbed by the fight and it was easy to ignore a sixteen year old girl.  

It was in a puddle of my own vomit the world seemed to slow down, to change to me.  Everyone and everything went silent, impossibly so, except for one solitary clicking.  

My watch.

The tick-tock was thunderous and seemed to eclipse everything in existence, and I understood.  Machines, robots, technology, it all made sense.

But how could it?  I loved living things, biology and ecology; I wasn’t an engineer.

And yet, there were schematics and designs running through my head at a staggering pace.  

I didn’t know all this.  How could I? These were things I had never seen…

And then it all made sense in an instant; I had knowledge that was impossible because I was one of those people who were supposed to be impossible.  

I was an Adapted.  

No sooner had my epiphany come than the world resumed at normal, throwing me back into my puddle of vomit and the cacophony that threatened to perforate my eardrums.  

Gregor finally noticed that I had fallen and he heaved me up to my feet, wiping the vomit crudely off my lip.  “Come on,” he growled, dragging me from the crowd.

“I’m…” I whimpered to myself as I kept looking around, seeing places that things could be engineered, improved upon.  

Repaired most of all.  A recurring theme with every design that popped into my minds eye was that it fixed itself.  

How did I know this?  I didn’t even know what I was looking at!  It just looked like trace outlines of a schematic my brain was drawing with some imaginary pencil.  

“ALEXIS!”  My attention finally snapped back to reality; I hadn’t noticed he’d been trying to talk to me for the last few seconds.

“Yeah, sorry,” I panted, still short of breath.  

“What the hell happened?  I look away for two minutes and you’re face down in a pool of your own fucking vomit!”

Even though he knew I found it deplorable, what people were doing to the dogs, I still felt a strange amount of shame.  “I can’t deal with it. I’m not made for this. I felt sick, I just wanted it to stop.” Tears started rolling down my face as I stopped thinking about the drawings that my brain was erecting; instead I saw the dog and felt that oppressive throng of people cheering as one animal ripped apart the other.  

Gregor’s stern expression softened and he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket, tossing it to me.  “Here, wipe up.”

I muttered a quiet thanks and wiped around my lips and chin, dabbing what I could off the front of my shirt.  

Before I could return the square of cloth, a pair of figures burst through the door, the people I wanted to see least right now.  

My parents.  

“What the hell is she doing back here, Gregor?”

“Your girl threw up, Tom,” he replied honestly.  “Too much for her.”

My mom glared daggers at me, ashamed and angry at the same time.  “Lexi, you’re gonna be a part of this family, and that means learning to stomach this shit.  You understand?”

“No!”

Everyone in the room was startled, me most of all.  I hadn’t meant to say anything, but it was as if my brain couldn’t tolerate her trying to force this.  

“Why you litt-”

My dad grabbed mom by the shoulder and held her back.  “Lex, this is what we do. This is what this family does.”

I shook my head, “I don’t want to do this.”

He frowned, “If you aren’t with us, we risk you being a rat.”

“Your my fucking parents!  I’m not going to narc on my fucking parents!”

Gregor leaned forward, “All due respect, Tom, Mary, maybe Alexis in’t cut out for this.  Maybe you should just trust her.”

“Maybe you should mind your fucking tongue,” my mother snapped, her voice cold.  “How we raise our child is none of your goddamn concern.”

She looked at my dad who seemed to be mulling over Gregor’s idea.  “Lexi, you’re our daughter. We want you to share this with us.”

Tears were streaming down my face, “I-I can’t see that again.  I don’t want to hear that again.”

He sighed, “Then know that if there is ever a rat, we won’t protect you.  If Imperium believes you are responsible, it’ll get messy. Do you understand?”  

“I don’t care, just let me go home,” I pleaded.  

My dad stepped forward and gave me a hug; I could smell the booze on him from about five feet away.  The man was drunk as a skunk and it was probably why he was willing to agree to this. I didn’t care, I needed to leave, to be anywhere but in this cesspool.  

The ride home was silent, uncomfortable.  I could feel my mom’s disappointment, her misgivings and mistrust in me since I wouldn’t participate.  To her, I must have been a threat, someone opposed to her existence and her cause. My dad was a little harder to read, but he certainly wasn’t elated with my choices.  

Once we arrived at our little townhouse, I nearly sprinted upstairs to my room, fishing through my desk for a pad of paper and a pen, hurriedly writing down all the images I kept seeing, hoping to the heavens that giving it an outlet would make them stop popping up.  

I was dimly aware that my father and mother both checked in on me at some point, but my mind was elsewhere.  I jotted down more than just schematics: I started adding notes, questions to the strange bank of knowledge.

Truth be told, I wasn’t sure this fever dream of a night was anything more than a bad trip from something I was slipped.  

Sometime around three in the morning, I fell asleep on my desk.  

A mixture of horror and excitement gripped me when I came to and found the notebook still littered with drawings and formulas with my notes scribbled in the margins.  

There was no denying this anymore: I had Adapted.  Cheap floorboards creaked as my dad walked downstairs to get breakfast, reminding me I wasn’t alone; I couldn’t let my parents know what happened.  Mom would tell me that I was obligated to be on of the chosen few for Imperiums premiere task force. I would be saddled with making weapons for their grunts and helping perpetuate their misguided venture into anarchy.  

No.  My parents couldn’t know.  They could never know.

(9/23/80)

I was entirely prepared for the two of them to be on board with my plan: Murphy was a risk taker and Nicholas was a fan of drastic measures.  Surprising still was the fact that he wasn’t a fan of his own plan.

Stuff with his dad probably skewed his perspective temporarily.  He’d be back to the same idiot in a few days.

“So we get a gang war going,” Nick said, tentatively, “How many people die in the crossfire?  Ciel only has a few places we can really take a fight without risk of collateral, but Imperium doesn’t generally go up towards the industrial side of the city.”  

Murphy shrugged, “Hey man, maybe we gotta break a few eggs for this omelet.  Like you said, things are going to get worse before they can get better.”

Nick seemed to take that like a hit to the chest; maybe that fight with his dad made more of an impression than I was giving it credit for.  

If his head wasn’t on straight, that could pose a problem for us.  There were some people I didn’t like our odds against without him. Goliath and Ironclad were two we definitely couldn’t bring down without Eldrtich helping.  

Truth be told, the longer we could keep Nick in his ‘suit’, the more likely we were to come ahead on any fight.  That form of his was crazy strong, especially if he could endure long enough to have it mutate and give him some freaky biological weaponry.  

“But I lost control for like, an hour, and I still almost killed a guy.  What happens when we push Shockwave and he goes ape shit? He doesn’t give a shit about hurting some innocent bystanders.”

“He won’t,” I replied bluntly.  

Both turned to me, interested.  

“Shockwave and Beleth have been leaders of their respective gangs for years not because they fly off the handle at a moments notice.  They are experienced, used to conflict, used to a fight coming their way. Put simply, both are probably expecting an all out gang war to happen anyways.  What they aren’t counting on is an outside influence helping to tip the scales.”

“You are awfully sure about that,” Nick pointed out.  “You’re betting our asses that they don’t expect us.”  

I rolled my eyes, “You made me leader for a reason, of course I thought this through.  Do either of you know the last time that a group of Reckoners went up against either one of those gangs?”

They both shook their head.

“Surface Dwellers crushed a group called the Karma Knights–”

“What a shit name.”

“About two years ago,” I continued, ignoring Murphy.  “There were about six Reckoners who tried to stack up against Beleth and his crew; they did remove one Adapted from the picture but were otherwise overwhelmed.”

“It’s Beleth, the guy has gone toe to toe with Clemency and won.”

“He is literally known across Tso’got and not just because he has the balls to not wear a mask.”  

“Are you two sycophants done now?”

Both nodded.  

“We aren’t going to try and get a head to head fight with either of these groups.  That would be suicide; all we have to do is distract and destabilize Imperium long enough Surface Dwellers make a move against them.  Beleth and Shockwave will likely end up going for a round two against one another, and by that time we can hopefully have networked out and managed to earn favor with other Reckoners who can help us bring those two down once they have their duel.”

Murphy stroked his chin, still grinning.  “Cut off the head, the body dies.”

“Exactly.  Both Shockwave and Beleth as seen as unbeatable, unkillable monsters.  It is part of why they are reluctant to have a round two. Their first fight was a tie, and even that was a hit to either one’s reputation.  Whoever loses round two loses their stake in the city.”

Nick let his hands fall in acceptance.  “Okay, it seems like a solid framework for what to do, but how do we know where we can hit without getting ourselves killed.  I’d like to point out that either one of those syndicates has more than double the Adapted that Rogue Sentries does; seeing as the three of us had trouble with Shock and Awe, I’d rather not run ourselves into a big stack of murderous super people.”  

Even Murphy gave a solemn-ish nod, “He does have a point, Alexis.  What makes you sure that we can pull this off without getting in way over our head?”

I let out a sigh, “I chose Imperium to go after because…my parents are members.”  

A stunned silence fell over the room as Murphy and Nick tried to process what I had just said.  “But…they seemed so normal!”

“They have as much of a secret identity as we do,” I replied, “Their nights take on a whole different turn.  I actually Adapted because they brought me to a dog fight. It overstimulated my system.”

To my surprise, this seemed to almost make Nick more comfortable but it unsettled Murphy a scoche.  

“Are you gonna be able to keep your head clear?”

“What do you mean?”

He grabbed Nick for emphases, “As mentioned earlier, this guy recently lost control and nearly killed a couple unlucky dorks.  I don’t want you getting us in a place where our backs are needlessly against the wall. The last thing we need to do is get ourselves killed because you aren’t thinking properly.  Nick’s mistake was his own and only jeopardized him; yours WILL put us at risk.”

“For being someone so gung-ho about my plan a second ago, you seem oddly reserved now that you know my mom and dad are gang bangers.”  

Nick looked on, awkwardly, as Murphy and I ran opposite of one another; the only thing out of place was that we were both being serious.  

“I trust you, Alexis,” Murphy exhaled, “But that’s because I know you aren’t super impulsive, it’s why I had no trouble giving you the reigns.  I’d get us into fucking trouble for sure. But for you to want to go after the gang your own mom and dad are in…that’s personal and personal issues make people stupid.”  

I wrinkled my face in frustration; the smug bastard did have a good point.  Murphy was so obnoxiously smart…more infuriating thing was that I couldn’t figure out why he never pushed himself to be anything else.

“Murphy, you aren’t wrong, and me wanting to run their gang out of town might factor into my motivations for shutting them down…but my plan isn’t stupid.”

“Maybe you could tell us why?”  Nick had seemed to find a voice playing moderator.  

“I have been keeping tabs of where my parents have gone any number of nights.  Imperium is an easy target for me because I have inside information.”

“What keeps them from suspecting you and killing us in our sleep?”

“They’ve been proud members of Imperium by night and open with me about it for the last 4 years.  They don’t know I’m Adapted and I make a point to keep them oblivious to the fact. If the cops showed up, that would be one thing, but a group of Reckoners coming in doesn’t really scream ‘rat’, it says that someone found you.  Reckoner groups don’t go to the police because of Suppression, so it should keep my nose clean.”

He seemed to mull it over before relaxing back into the bean bag on the floor, “Alright, good enough for me.  Nick, you happy?”

“I don’t know that happy is the right word,” he confessed, “But maybe I’m just rattled by being three feet away from Goliath and Beleth without any meat to arm myself.”  

“No offense man, you aren’t exactly who I’d want to stack against Beleth.”  

I groaned, “The whole point of this is that we don’t ever have to just fight the man.”

Murphy grinned, “Yeah, but if we were going to, I’m just saying that I’d definitely have the best shot at coping with him.  I’m all bouncy and spry and shit…he’d have trouble catching me. You walk around in a suit made of spaceship metal and Nick’s mobility isn’t his best attribute.”  

“Speaking of spaceship metal,” I said with a snap, “We need to play with your new toy.  Nick, you have material?”

“Yeah, I have about 30 kilos of raw material.”  He stopped for a second, “Are you going to use me like a big ass punching bag?”

“Not a punching bag, but instead a smashing bag!  Very different bags you see,” Murphy pointed out with a snicker.  

Nick grumbled, “My power is being undervalued by a bunch of idiots.”  

“Your just jealous of my new stick,” Murphy replied with a wink.

“Don’t make me regret giving you this,” I groaned as I grabbed a dense chunk of metal from my backpack and tossed it to the Druid.  

Murphy caught it and seemed surprised by the weight.  “This isn’t as light as I thought it would be.”

“And I didn’t think you were some kind of bitch,” I shot back.  “I don’t want you swinging it so damn hard that it breaks mid-fight; it’d repair, but not instantly.”

Murphy twisted his hands on the cylinder of metal and it sprung out, narrowing slightly as it went.  The end result was about 5’ in length, and weighing nearly nine pounds. While mostly hollow, the metal I used was dense and built to endure.  And like with everything else I made, it was rigged with the little mechanisms dedicated to nothing but self reapartation.

He gave it a test twirl and a smile.  “Definitely more aerodynamic than that bloody pipe I snagged earlier.”

We all ventured out back; Murphy’s absentee parents had managed to snag a deal with their place since they had access to what neither Nick or I had.

A yard.  

His parents had erected a hell of a fence too, which kept anyone from peeking in – awfully helpful for letting us practice without anyone peeping.  

Nick shed his clothing, a little bashful still, and started to grow a coat of the tendrils, more quickly now it seemed.  After months of practice, it only made sense he could channel things more rapidly.

If only my gift was so easy to train.  

Meanwhile, Murphy twirled the staff, getting accustomed to its weight and heft, focusing intently, his trademark grin gone for a moment.

Nick had asked me a while ago if I had any idea where Murphy learned to fight and I still wasn’t any closer to an answer now.  I could only assume that was what he did when he was truant…but I still didn’t know where he went or who taught him.

“Alright, ready,” Eldritch hissed.  

“How much?”

“Six-hundred kilos,” he replied.  “Should be able to take a decent beating without hitting me underneath.”  

Murphy nodded and sprung forward, bringing the staff down in a swift arc.  Eldritch seemed to be more confident in his body, faster now as he raised an arm to block.  

The staff rang out as it collided with the hardened cells, but the metal didn’t flex or break, Eldritch’s limb instead bent around the weapon.  

Ripping it free of the growths, Murphy turned and let his grip loosen so the staff almost slipped free of his grasp; catching it at the last second, he finished the swing like he was holding a bat.  

It hit Eldritch hard enough to knock him over, and the staff didn’t break.  

“Holy hell this thing packs a wallop,” Murphy said, giddy.  “How are you doing under there man?”

Eldritch growled as he got back to his feet, “I think you broke a rib with that.  Definitely hurts.”

Murphy gave it another few spins around and jabbed it into the ground, using it like a makeshift pole-vault to leap over our gigantic friend.  As usual, his landing was perfect and he rounded quickly, smacking Eldritch in the shoulder.

“Satisfied?” I inquired.  

“Very!  What is it made of?”

“It’s a layer of titanium-carbide over tungsten-steel to give it some extra heft.  I had to use something dense so it could be mostly hollow to collapse. Unfortunately, it means if you break the thing, you’ll have to get both parts next to each other for it to rebuild.  It’s a bit too heavy for my little drones to drag the pieces together.”

“I don’t  think it’s going to break,” Eldritch replied as he began to shed off his coat, “My hardened cells can take some abuse and it cracked the outer layer pretty easily.”  

Murphy gripped the center and twisted, collapsing the staff.  “Yeah, this is gonna be a solid upgrade for me.” He regarded the weapon and looked back at me, “When are you going to upgrade your own stuff?”

I was caught off guard by the question.  “Wait, what?”

“You volunteered to make Murphy something, but you haven’t made your own upgrades.  I know you have made stuff for other teams to help a city over, but not your own suit or weaponry all this time.”

My voice couldn’t escape my throat.  

“Alexis, you gotta make sure you’re staying relevant.  The fighting is only going to get harder from here on, especially if we’re volunteering to take on some big names.  Eldritch has to eat more, I have to keep working on my fighting, and you need to use what you do best.”

“My suit sucks compared to you guys,” I muttered, despondently.  

Nick slid back on his pants and stepped forward to give me a hug.  He had no idea, but my heart nearly melted in my chest as he pressed against me.  “You need to think better of yourself,” he said gently, “Murphy and I need our third member backing us up.  I think you’re Adaptation has the least limitation of all of ours, you’ve just got to be willing to be confident in yourself.”  

While I appreciated the sentiment, something felt off about Nick saying that.

“Xana talked to you about this, didn’t she?”

He blushed and looked away, nervous.  “She…might have divulged to me about me being a simple minded male.”

“Of course she couldn’t keep her fucking mouth shut!”

Murphy just laughed, “Alright, we have a game plan, we have a goal in mind, when do we make a move against Imperium?”

I focused up, “Four days from now, that’s when their next dog fight is gonna be.  Generally kept on the down-low without any Adapted enforcement, should be an easy hit.  Crash the joint, take the money, let the dogs run, interrupt the cash flow for Imperium.  It’ll be a big hit to morale too since it has been a weekly staple for them about 3 years running.”

“Put them on edge, I like it.  What if there is Adapted security?”

“We go over-prepared,” Nick supplied for me, “I come in double-sized and clear out the place.  Alexis’ drones can scout the place and give us an idea of what we’re up against. We have the upside of surprise and environmental support due to the fact that none of their Adapted are going to be able to go too hard without maiming their own members.”

“Nick’s right,” I added, “Imperium is human-centric and very fond of its own members.  They’ll kill a rat without a second thought, but they protect and look after their own like family.  When I was there, the dog fighting ring was a madhouse, chock-full of people; if we throw a two-tonne Neklim in there and he starts roaring, they will probably destroy the place on their own without our help.”  

“I’ll make sure to eat plenty,” he replied.

“And you need to upgrade your suit, just in case,” Murphy insisted.  “Seriously, don’t relegate yourself to a support role, you can do so much more.”  

I could imagine that he knew how I felt about myself prior to this…he picked up from Nick in just a matter of seconds how rough I was on myself.  If only the guy gave half a shit…

“If I do it, will the two of you leave me the hell alone?”

“I make no promises,” he replied.  

Nick shrugged.  “Maybe?”

“Y’all are hopeless.  But okay, I’ll upgrade my damn suit.”  

With that settled, the night seemed to rapidly turn into a time to blow off some steam, to overeat and simply chill, be kids before we took on a more serious mantle.  

As the night wound down, highlighted by Murphy passing out on the couch, Nick sat next to me as I was drawing in my notebook.  “More design options?”

I shook my head, “Going to give my Adaptation a direction to steer itself.  It works better to have a concept in mind than to start from scratch.”

“Sorry about earlier,” he commented, “It was kind of lousy of me to bring up your personal stuff like that.”  

“At least you put on pants though,” I replied as I put down my pencil.  

He blushed, “Yeah, when Murphy had to break me out he gave me a hug and I forgot I come out of my ‘suit’ naked.”  

I was slow to chuckle and he noticed.  

“You gonna be okay doing this?”

“Yeah, I will,” I assured him.  “I’m just…struggling with feeling okay.  You and Murphy both smacked me upside the head with this ‘we need you to fight’ message and it scares me.  I don’t get to be huge like you, or super adroit like him, I’m just a girl in a tin can.”

“Somehow I feel like it isn’t made of tin.”

I rolled my eyes, “You’re sounding like Murphy.”  

“A weekend with the schmuck will do that,” he lamented.  “I wonder if Hosjon will notice tomorrow.”

Remembering school felt like a hit to the chest.  “I think I may take a number from Murphy’s book and play hookey tomorrow.”

Nick almost fell off the stool, “What?”

“When else am I going to get a chance to upgrade my suit?  The dog fight is Thursday night, and Monday is my lightest class load so…that’s as good as I can get.  Gives me about 12 reliable hours to work and upgrade the armor and weaponry.”

“Well, at least your grades can take the hit,” he laughed, “I’m feeding my parents a pack of lies that we are working on a project to help boost standing; what nonsense are you saying?”

“Eh, just that I’m going out with a boyfriend who I am afraid to introduce to a couple of Imperium members.”  

Nick laughed, “And they’re okay with that?”

“Honestly, they are happy to have me out of their hair more often than not.  My mom and I hate each other…and my dad usually sides with her.”

My friend frowned, “I’m sorry you don’t a boyfriend to confide in.”

If only the idiot knew…

“You and me both,” I lamented.  “You want a ride home or you gonna crash out here?”

He shrugged, “I’ll just crash here.  You heading out?”

I nodded, “Want to wake up in my own bed so I can get right to work tomorrow and use all the time I get.”

We said our goodbyes and I gave him a hug, relishing the physical contact as I got into my car and drove away.  

Part of me was terrified and the other part exhilarated: it was official, we were going to take the fight to Imperium.  

But first things first, I had to make good on my promise to the Rogue Sentries.  

Dragoon was in desperate need of an upgrade.  

Previous Chapter _ Next Chapter

(9/23/2080)

“So,” I managed to eek out, “About what happened, are we…okay?”

Xana was sitting across from me back at Mel’s.  We’d agreed to meet there since it was public, familiar, and a neutral ground.  We hadn’t talked since the night that things went sour, and even our exchange of messages to set up this meeting could really only be described as ‘clinical’.

“Nick, I don’t know if we can ever be okay,” she whispered, solemn, her head hung.   

I felt my throat close, “I-I am so sorry.  I’ll do anything to fix this. Please, I won’t let it happen again, just give me another chance.”  At this point I was stammering, trying to think of anything that would get her to reconsider.

And then she lifted her face to reveal that smug fucking grin spread from ear to ear.

I had just been played, so damn hard.  

“No, you didn’t…”

“Oh yeah,” she laughed, “God, did I have you going!  And you took that little bit of bait hook line and sinker!  One little lament and bam!” She reached forward and I was half tempted to slap her hands, my emotions tossed all over the place.  “Seriously though, I get it. I was there, I saw that shit happen. What your dad did was awful.”

“Yeah.”

“But taking it out on me like that,” she added, “Not okay, Nicky.  And especially what you did after. That is a serious problem.”

Guilt welled up and rendered me mute, forcing me to nod in answer.  

“Nick, you’re a good guy, and I know you mean well, but you need to be more careful of things like that.  You had a bad night, and you’re going to have bad nights. Regular people have bad nights, but your new job is likely to push you and give you rougher nights than most will ever have.  But now, if you flip that switch, you get scary. I’m just glad you weren’t any more ‘prepared’ so Murphy could help you see reason before you did real damage. If he’d shown up a minute later…who knows?”

I knew she was trying to help but it still felt like I was having a ton of weight dropped on me.  “So what do I do?”

Xana scoffed playfully, “You gotta figure out your own shit.  I’m a little older than you, but I don’t have it all together!  I’m just a girl who likes her some human D.”

My cheeks immediately turned red as she snickered.  “Fucks sake, Xana,” I hissed, “You have got to stop doing this!”

She wasn’t about to give me such a concession.  

“I think you’re indebted to me for now and aren’t allowed to ask for such niceties,” she replied with a prim raise of her chin.  “I believe that circumstances being what they are…you’re kind of my bitch.”

“Are we really doing this?”

“You may kiss the ring, subject!” she announced as she pushed her hand into my face.

I glared but played along, kissing the back of her hand.  “Are we happy now, my liege?”

“It will suffice…for now,” she agreed with a laugh, dropping the absurd mannerisms.  “But, what are you gonna do about your dad?”

That question felt like a kick to the stomach.  “I’m not sure. I want to just avoid him, but I know I need to go home at some point, if for no other reason than to let my mom know I’m alive.  Question is if he’ll be mad at me running off or be happy when I stroll through the door.”

“Maybe you two will be able to bond over a drink and reach a manly understanding?”  

“It isn’t a bad idea, but I’m reluctant to drink near him.  The guy hits the sauce hard; if I was talked into drinking too much who knows what I might say.”   

She nodded thoughtfully, “Maybe you could meet him somewhere outside of the house?”

“Honestly, I need to man the fuck up and go home, deal with the problem head on.  My dad, as big a pain as he is, will appreciate me being forward. No one will like it, but he will respect me for it in the end.  I’m only hoping it doesn’t lead to another fight.”

“He is still your dad, he has to at least care a little bit about you.”

“Somedays I wonder,” I confessed.  I knew he cared for the most part, but it was hard to remember that when the last thing he’d done was hit you.  “Probably gonna ask you steer clear for this one, I just have to bite the bullet myself and cope.”

My girlfriend wrapped her fingers around my hand, “Hey, I get it.  You gotta do what you gotta do, right?”

I nodded, my face grim at the prospect of seeing him again.  “Unfortunately.”

“Excuse me,” she flagged down a waiter, “This guy needs a vanilla milkshake.”  

“Xana,” I started but she shushed me.  

“Biggest size you got.”  

The man hustled away to relay the order and I glared at her, “Come on, I am not as big a sugar fiend as you are.”

“Hey, milkshakes are a comfort food.  Are you going to honestly tell me that of all days, today is the day you wouldn’t take a complimentary milkshake?”  

I shrugged, “When you’re right, you’re right.”  

There was a pause and she took my hand again, “I love you Nick,” she said in a hushed voice, “And if something happens to you, I don’t know what I’d do.”  

For a moment, I just stared with my mouth hanging open, not sure of what the hell to say.  

“That is the perfect time for you to reciprocate, you immense idiot,” she hissed.  

“I love you too,” I whispered back.  It felt…almost foreign as I said it. Not in a bad way, but like I could hardly believe I had reason to utter the words.  “Sorry, I’m just nervous to actually say it out loud.”

Xana gave me a little glare, “You’re such a dork.”  

“I know.  But I mean, I did take on kind of a risky job; it’s likely that something is gonna happen to me and now you’ll hurt too and that kind of pressure is just,” I trailed off, biting my lip nervously as the waiter came back with my milkshake.  

“Nicky, you’re fine.  There are plenty of people who date cops or soldiers; they have risky positions.  At least you get to wear a lot of armor when you go to work,” she observed with a wink.  “Your buddy Murphy is the one who concerns me.”

“He’s a lot tougher than you think.”  

She cocked an eyebrow.  “I’ve seen him work, that trick of his seems…limited.”  

“Quicker acting than you’d believe,” I assured her.  “If anything, he’s safer on the job than me,” I said between spoonfuls of milkshake.  “Plus, the guy is more clever than he lets on; dude is probably smarter than me but just doesn’t always apply himself like he should.”  

“God forbid he does.  He might actually get something done.”  

I gave her a smile and nodded, glad she had ordered me a milkshake.  Right now, things felt nice, simple, happy. Maybe my macabre strain of thought last night was plain wrong and life could be filled with these little joyful and wholesome episodes.  

As if on cue, my phone chimed.  A new group message from Alexis.  

Alexis: Discussing project stuff tonight, Murphy said his house was available.  

Murphy: We planning on getting any real work done tonight or just doing some planning?

We’d agreed to talk about our Adapted doings in code.  While we could get a second phone, if anyone noticed we’d come under scrutiny.  Ultimately, who was going to check the text messages of a few high school students with no criminal record?  

Alexis: Mostly discussion.  Wouldn’t hurt to be prepared though, we might have some inspiration.  

Me: I’ll show up after I see my dad.  Gotta get a change of clothes.

I put my phone in my pocket and chose to ignore it, focusing instead on Xana who was giving me a rather inquisitive look.  “Work?”

“For later,” I promised, “I don’t want to spoil this.”  

“Gotta admit, I like my men a little dangerous,” she purred.  “Plus, from what I hear, your job has a chance to land you some excellent press.”  

“I wouldn’t hold my breath.  Our camera woman can be a bit shaky.”

“But at least she got up close and personal with her recording.  Gotta admire the ladies grit.”

“Never mind that she could have made a drone to simply do it for her.  I mean, she made a thermal drone to scope the place out and highlight metal.  Why not just make another drone to record us kicking ass?”

She shrugged, “Maybe your lady is shy and doesn’t want to be seen on tape?”

“Her, seriously?  Have you seen her either in or out of suit?  I know girls who would literally kill to look like her,” I hissed, a whisper.

My girlfriend rolled her eyes, “You are such a single minded male.  Poor girl doesn’t realize how well put together she is because she hears that she looks good from the wrong places.  Besides, she fights with her mom enough that she is incapable of hearing anything other than, ‘you’re a mistake’.”

“How much time have you spent around Alexis without me?” I inquired, suddenly fascinated by their relationship.

“I didn’t realize I needed you explicit permission to see a friend.”    

“No that isn’t what I…meant.”  Disarmed, I consumed the rest of my milkshake to mask my embarrassment; all the while, my phone continued buzzing in my pocket.  

Damned people wanting my attention and valuing my input.  Being a part of a team was going to be more time consuming that I had thought initially, but maybe having an excuse to get out of the house and away from my dad would be good.  

Still, I needed to settle up with him before gallivanting off and maybe being gone another day.  If nothing else, I wanted my own clothes.

“Alright, they aren’t going to shut up, so I suppose that we need to get the painful bit done.”  

Her face fell, “Yeah, I suppose we need to rip the bandage off, don’t we?”

We settled the bill and left the diner, both of us dreading what was to come but for rather different reasons:

She was afraid of me flying off the handle again.

I was petrified at the thought of facing down my father again.  

My phone served as a decent distraction on the way home, something to help the dwelling abate for a little while.  

Murphy: Well, that sounds fun.  Maybe you could suit up in front of him, just for effect?

Alexis: Murphy, no.  

Murphy: It would add a nice flair of drama though!

Alexis: No.

Murphy: You suck the joy out of everything Alexis.  

Murphy: Let the guy have a little fun!  

Murphy: Besides, guy was a huge twat.  

Alexis: Nick, whenever you see these, disregard Murphy.  I need to hit him over the head later.

Murphy: Don’t listen to her.  She lies. She’s just jealous.

Alexis: Murph, stfu.

Murphy: Defin no

Murphy: You can’t silence the peeps!

Alexis: We’re supposed to be serious about this

Murphy: You make it too easy to not be

Alexis: Nick, whenever you’re done, let us know.  We’ll meet at Murphy’s place

“My friends are a bunch of idiots,” I lamented aloud as I finished reading their little exchange.  “And to think, I’m supposed to fight crime with these lugs.”

Xana smiled, “I have every confidence in you guys.  Even though Shock and Awe were dumb when they fought you, you guys still held your own.  Those two have had years to figure out their teamwork, and they are siblings who are scary coordinated.  I’m sure you guys will figure it out as you go and improve.”

“Still a dangerous proposition,” I pointed out, “A lot of Reckoners and criminals alike die while trying to figure things out.  And no one is just going to let us get into a groove; people don’t want competition.”

Her positive attitude refused to be dampened.  “I still have faith in you guys.”

“Well, it’s good someone does.  Someone besides just me and the others involved.”  

Sooner than I had hoped, the dreaded moment came to be: we’d arrived at my house.  “I’m gonna head home,” she said sweetly, “But call me if you need anything, okay?”

“Alright,” I replied.  “Hey, Xana,” I called after a second.  

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”  

She smiled sweetly and blew a kiss to me, “I love you too.  You’ll be fine!”

With a nod, I did my best to believe her and turned to the door, ready to face the music.  

As soon as I opened the door, I heard my name called in a hopeful cry.  “Hi mom,” I shouted back, switching to English as opposed to Common. “I’m back for some clean clothes, I can’t keep taking Murphy’s.”  

She rushed me at the door, wrapping her arms around me and giving a relieved sigh.  “Nicholas, I’m so sorry for what your father did, but thank goodness you’re home.”

“Mom,” I tried to interject.  

“Everything is okay now.  We can work through this as a family.”  

“MOM!”  She let go and took a step back, caught off guard.  “I’m only here for some clothes and to let you know I’m alive.  I’m going back out, gotta meet up with Alexis and Murphy.”

Her face fell, “I see.”  

My heart broke to see her sad, but I put on a smile, “Mom, I’m gonna be home tonight…probably.  We’re doing extra work to get our standing adjusted.”

Zari schools were very dependent on standing within the class ranks as it informed the administrators who they should enable for future success and who should be left behind.  Often times the best way to adjust standing was side projects or assisting a teacher directly with their own project to earn additional reputation and favor.

News of me taking on an extra-circular project seemed to almost shock her, and then give rise to suspicion.  “Your perpetually truant friend is looking to actually invest time in classwork?”

I rolled my eyes, “Mom, Murphy is way smarter than he lets on.  Trust me.”

“You’ve never been one to take on some extra work either,” she pressed, still not entirely convinced.  

For dramatic effect, I let out a sigh, “It gives me an excuse to get out of the house and away from Dad.  Murphy needs to get his shit together, it certainly wouldn’t hurt me any, and Alexis is a perpetual over-achiever who is far too eager to help.”  

“I see,” she whispered, her eyes betraying a melancholic understanding.  It made sense to her, but it still hurt knowing I needed it. “ Just, do me a favor,” she implored.  “Please let us know when you’re going to be home. I know this is partially an excuse to get away from us and be independent.  But kiddo, we are still your parents and want to spend time with you.”

“Of course,” I agreed, “Right now, I…don’t want to see dad.  But, I wanted to be straight with him, tell him like a man. He’ll respect that.”

She nodded, “He will.  It’ll mean a hell of a lot to him that his son has the balls to be honest with his old man.”

I wasn’t about to correct her logic.  While I didn’t think they would rat me out if they discovered what I was, I couldn’t imagine that their response would be particularly pleasant.  And I wasn’t sure if the fallout for my growing web of lies would be worse than the discovery of my secret.

There was an awkward silence that fell between us; my mom and I got along but never had much to talk about.  It was further complicated by the fact that the most interesting development in my life was something I couldn’t tell her.

Apparently some of my nervous energy was noticed.  “Sweetie, what’s wrong?”

“Dad.  I’m not exactly thrilled and so I’m dwelling a bit,” I confessed.  Another half-truth, but one that was very easy to believe. “Has he always been so angry at everything?”

A sorrowful smile crossed her lips, “No, no there was a time when we were much happier.”

“You guys never talk about it,” I observed.  “Why?”

“It hurts to think about,” she admitted.  “Your dad and I used to be a well-off couple.  I was a successful writer, he was helping develop new medications…and then one day everything had to change.  There was no warning before an alarm sounded across the city; nothing we could do but watch in horror as the sky changed color and feel the air heat up and energize around us.”  She shuddered as she recollected that fateful day. “It feels like a lifetime ago, but still so fresh, so vivid. Your father has trouble letting go of what we used to have, and he feels like the universe cheated us out of our old life.  He’s upset, in part, that he didn’t get to give you the life he feels you deserved.”

“He has a funny way of showing it.”

My mom frowned, “He changed after that day and his temper became a short fuse.  Having to do simple labor for him is humbling, almost insulting. Adam used to be so gifted and feel so useful but now…he feels common and disposable.  It’s enough to make anyone nasty.”

“But you stay with him,” I pointed out.  

“I do.  I said ‘for better or worse’ and I meant it. Up until I die, I’m going to be a lady of my word,” she vowed to me.  “What he did, hitting you, was a tremendous slip. ”

“A bit more than a slip if you ask me.”

“Fine.  It was a catastrophe and your father was an idiot.  I understand if you need time away from him, from this house to feel more safe and grounded, and that’s fine.  You run with good friends but I had better not hear from a teacher you’re failing a class.”

“And you never will.”

“But promise me something, Nicky,” she begged, “Work to make things right with your dad.  It won’t happen overnight, I understand. But don’t quit on him. He was a damn good man when I married him, and I believe that part of him can come back.  Sometimes the people who need the most help are the ones who push away the hardest.”

I digested that thought and began to nod.  “I promise. I won’t just quit on you losers.”  

She grinned but still reached up and flicked my ear, “No need to be lousy.”

“I never said I was going to be decent about it, only that I would follow through on my end of the bargain.”  I weaved my head away from another flick at my ear with a smile.

Our good humor was immediately quashed when the door opened.  My dad walked through and looked up, shocked to see me in the living room with mom.  “Look who decided to come home.”

I felt all that rage and anger immediately start billowing up, building, remembering the last time I talked to the man.  

But I had promised mom that I would be patient.  Besides, I didn’t want Murphy holding it against me that he’d had to stop me from killing someone…or the fact that I had attacked him like a madman; if I was being given a chance, my dad deserved the same opportunity to redeem himself.  

“I came to get some clothes and let you two know I was alright.  Gonna go back to Murphy’s with Alexis, do some project work to boost our class rank.”  

“This your way of saying you don’t want to be around your old man anymore?”

Of course he wouldn’t make this easy.  

“I’m saying I’m gonna be gone tonight, and every now and then I’m going to see them to work some more.”

He glared, suspicious.  “You’ve never worked on boosting class rank before.  Why the sudden want to do it now? And why can’t you do it here?  We’re not good enough?”

“Adam,” my mom cautioned.  

“No, I wanna hear it.”

I steadied my breathing, fighting away the alien intentions that told me to simply tap into my Adaptation to make this a one sided fight.  When I was calmed down enough, I met my father’s gaze defiantly. “You’re an angry jackass who hit me, in front of my girlfriend. I don’t want to bring anyone around you, let alone my friends.”

Fear gripped me as I let those words tumble out: was this going to be a repeat of our last encounter?

The uncomfortable stillness lasted what felt like hours even though it was probably ten seconds at most.  “Alright,” he finally conceded, “Fair enough.”

“Wait…what?” I replied, flabbergasted.  “You’re okay with this?”

He shrugged, “You’re seventeen and Zari have longer years than Earth did; at this point you’d be considered a man.  You want this, fine. As long as you keep your shit together, you’re allowed to make your own choices. If you wanna run along with your friends, fine; you get in trouble or fuck up at school, everything changes.  Understood?”

“Y-yeah!” I was overjoyed that this was going off without another incident, and that neither was pressing too hard into my cover story.  I turned to go to my room but a hand on my shoulder stopped me.

“Be careful, Nick,” he said slowly.  “And don’t forget that your mom and I care a lot about you.”  

“I know.”

“And…well I’m proud of you son.  It took guts to stare me in the face and say that; I’m proud my kid has the nerve to be his own man.”  

My original anger seemed to conflict with how I felt now; my mom wasn’t just lying or trying to cover for an oppressive spouse.  There was still an echo of a good man within my dad, just beaten down hard enough it took a lot to bring it to the surface.

For a moment, I wanted to just be upfront with him, tell him what his son was; memory of our last discussion had me hold my tongue.  Still, my indecision and silence was telling enough for him to know I was trying to say something.

“Sorry, not totally sure how to react here.  Kind of overwhelmed. I don’t think you’ve ever told me that you’re proud of me.”  

He shrugged, “I probably should say stuff like that more and not be such a piece of shit.”

“Will I be pushing my luck if I agree?”

For the first time in weeks, I witnessed an actual smile creep across his face, “Definitely.  Nicky, you’re going to be too clever for your own good one of these days.”

“My teachers tell me the same thing.”

“Well, at least listen to them if you won’t listen to me.  They are supposed to be the experts.”

I gave a soft chuckle, “Can do, dad.”  I left things where they were and slid into my bedroom, changing clothes, glad to be in my own clothes as opposed to something Muphy lent me.  Grabbing a change of hoodie and a notepad—per demand of Alexis—I headed back out and nearly jumped when my dad was loitering directly in front of my room.  

“Holy shit!  Don’t do that!”

“Tomorrow night we’re having dinner as a family.  I am gonna insist you be home for that. Deal?”

I nodded, “Deal.  I’ll probably be home tonight.”

He frowned, looking outside, “It’s nearly dark now as is.  Unless you’re getting a ride from Alexis, don’t come back. I wouldn’t want you walking late; don’t want you getting caught up in it.”    

It struck me as an a hilarious sentiment on his part; I’d soon be contributing to the trouble of the night.  

“And if you stay out, I better not hear about you missing class!  I know your friend Murphy has a lousy attendance record; why his parents let him get away with it I’ll never be sure.  Damned kid is wasting his potential.”

I rolled my eyes, “I have Hosjon’s class tomorrow morning, and I’m not going to miss his class.  Don’t worry, I’m not Murphy; I’m not going to start just skipping classes all the damned time.”

My dad gave me a glare, “You’d better not.  Now hurry up, don’t want to keep people waiting.”  

That was all the invitation I needed to head out into the cool evening.

Nightlife in residential areas of Ciel differed dramatically from the industrial zones where the Rogue Sentries had been days earlier.  While people around the slums hid inside, people around a more middle class part of town milled in the streets or could be seen heading out for a night on the town.  One thing humanity had brought with it from Earth was their massive affinity for alcohol and methods of production.

Before us, Tso’got didn’t have much in the way of controlled substances and instead sought more entertainment with violence and carnal indulgence; twenty-six years of human influence had adjusted that culture dramatically.  

Nightclubs popped up everywhere, and if people couldn’t get in, they simply drank outside.  Generally you would find cliques of Zari on someone’s doorstep indulging themselves whereas others would go all the way out to the curb, just to be irate assholes who wouldn’t leave you alone.

Thanks to liquor and drugs keeping people subdued, the industrial tycoons who really ran the government didn’t see any need to limit them or put any kind of stipulations on consumption.  Instead they let things be as is; drunkards never were ones for thoughtful political discourse after all.

Unfortunately, being human meant you were generally the subject of scrutiny and often ridiculed; a lot of people blamed us for the economic hardships of the city and every drunk and jaded Zari would let you know.  I would have loved to wear headphones and ignore them, but that meant you risked being snuck up on and plenty had been beaten to death in the street because a group of rowdy Zari felt slighted by someone ignoring them.  

Walking also served a secondary purpose: I needed fresh meat.  My storage had spoiled and I was banking on someone having hit some poor animal with their car.  I wasn’t sure if Alexis was going to send us somewhere tonight, but with no meat at my disposal I was a worthless tag-a-long.  Keeping my head down, I navigated the streets and managed to avoid any real heckling from the intoxicated Zari I wandered past.  

But my luck didn’t last.  

“Hey, kid!  Yeah, you!”

I could feel a number of eyes staring at me; I was dumb and stopped to acknowledge.  If I had been smart enough to just keep going I probably could have pretended not to hear.  Hell, even just ‘answering’ my phone would have been enough to buy me some excuse to ignore them.  But no.

“Come here.”

Four Zari guys, all drunk from the looks of it and leaning against the wall of an alley.  Each one was probably half again my size, and all had the same look in their eye like they were up to no good.  

With no meat to consume, I was just a normal human.  If they wanted to beat me to death, I wouldn’t be able to stop them.

“What’s up?” I asked boldly as I walked over, trying to put on a good face as the four men formed a semi-circle in front of me.  

“Where are you going little man?”

“Just going to go see a friend.”

The four men glanced at each other, “Yeah, I’m sure.  How about you stay a while and kick one back with us, yeah?”

I frowned, “No thanks.  My buddy is expecting me.”  

“We insist,” one growled, giving away much more of their intention than the apparent leader of the clique.

Taking a step backwards, “Appreciate the offer but I’m gonna–”

A hand shot out and grabbed my wrist, “Your buddy can wait a few minutes, can’t he?”

I struggled, but without my alien strength there was no way to overpower one of them, let alone four.  Still, Murphy’s instruction kicked in and I shot my free hand forward into the Zari’s nose, catching him off guard.  

Soft cartilage crumpled against bone  and he let go; I wasn’t fast enough to get away from another set of hands grabbing me.  

“Little fucker,” the ringleader growled as blood trickled from his nose.  “You’re gonna regret–”

He stopped and I saw all of the Zari looking past me.  Reluctant to look away, I turned my head and my jaw almost dropped.  

The long, brown trench coat and shaved head, that air of authority with the way he strutted forward…it was him.  Almost unrivaled king of the underworld, the head of the Surface Dwellers.

Beleth.  The only Adapted who didn’t wear a mask.  

I knew he wasn’t an emotional manipulator in any capacity, but the confidence and aura he seemed to exude was almost overwhelming; he expected the world to shift around him and it just kind of…did.  

The Zari let me go as he walked closer, regarding the situation with a kind of casual interest.  “Four on one? Seems hardly fair.”

My heart hammered in my chest; I’d attacked his lieutenants days ago, I’d probably cost him hundreds of thousands of dollars in damages.  No one fucked with Beleth and lived to talk about it, outside of a few exceptions. Shockwave and Clemency had encountered him and survived, but neither had done any real damage, they just hadn’t lost horribly.    

People speculated that Titan might be able to take him, but Titan was…enigmatic with his appearances.  

If he knew what I had done, all he’d have to do is think and I would be a stain on the sidewalk.  No one would be able to save me, no one would be able to stop him. The anxiety was overwhelming as he stood only a meter away from me.  

Praise God he was focused on the Zari instead of me.  “He was being disrespectful! Didn’t listen to us when we called him.”

Beleth smiled and it was eerie.  “Were you looking for a little human to pick on?  Feel like a big man?” He stepped forward, putting himself inches from the Zari; even though Beleth wasn’t a big guy–not much larger than me honestly–the Zari still backed up, petrified.  “Don’t lie to me, you must know I can tell.”

All of them were shaking, but one had the good sense to finally answer.  “Y-yes,” he confessed.

“Well then, how about we give you a better fight!  Goliath, come here would you?”

I hadn’t spotted him earlier, but there was an escort who was lingering behind Beleth.  A guy the size of Murphy in a simple red mask…but he rapidly changed.

It was similar in a way to how I enlarged myself, but this was all internal.  Muscle rapidly grew and the shirt fell to the side as did the mask. While the man wasn’t more than 5’6” initially, he was easily 7’ tall by the end of his transformation and he was oversaturated with muscle.  His eyes were just black orbs, no white or iris to speak of and his skin seemed to be almost red, like he’d spent too much time in the sun. Goliath had a very square face with a smile that seemed glued on, much like Murphy’s characteristic grin.  

This was different though: Murphy’s grin was playful and Goliath’s smile seemed bloodthirsty.    

“Shame, I don’t have my hammer,” he lamented as he stepped forward.  Goliath’s voice was exactly what you’d assume: a low and deep rumble that sounded like he’d been gargling with gravel.  

“Now, do you still want a four on one brawl?”

I stood in my place, silent as Goliath slapped a Zari and literally tossed him back three meters to start the  bout. The ‘fight’ lasted seconds and all the Zari were unable to walk away where Goliath seemed almost disappointed.  

Beleth turned back to me, “Should I kill them?  They probably would have done the same to you.”

I shook my head, slowly, nervous.  “They were just idiots, they don’t deserve to die.”  

The mob boss seemed to ponder it and shrugged, “Fair enough.”

“Why did you help me?”  It wasn’t easy to muster the courage to ask in the first place, and I wanted to curl into a ball as he glanced at me, curious.  

“Just because I’m a criminal doesn’t mean I can’t take pity on people.  I’m still human, I can’t let some kid get beaten to death because a few Zari are punks.  Gotta look out for my people, right?”

Goliath nodded, “Fuckers were cowards.  We don’t reward cowardice.”

“Elegantly put, Goliath, as always.”  He turned back to me, “Besides, you’re a fighter!  Gotta reward strength where I see it. But, I do suggest you fuck off now.”

I nodded reverently and scurried away as fast as possible.

As quick as I could, I hurried to Murphy’s place, noting the social decline despite there only being three kilometers between our dwellings.  His neighborhood was substantially more dirty and grimy, and had less people outside; everyone was afraid since violent crime was so much more commonplace here.  

Before I knocked on the door, Murphy opened it and let me in, his face falling as he noted my panicked expression.  

“Look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he pointed out as I sat down and caught my breath.  

“Seriously,” Alexis seconded, “What happened to you?”

I explained my run in with Beleth and they both widened their eyes in shock.

“Thank fuck they didn’t have a cognate with them!  I mean if they knew you were the one who beat the shit out of Awe,” Alexis trailed off.

“Yeah, I’m plenty aware!  I was almost pissing myself the whole time!”

Murphy was the only one who seemed to get over his apprehension, “But you didn’t get pummeled to death by Goliath!  So, that’s a win!”

He wasn’t wrong.  

“Plus, you unwittingly got valuable information!”

I was confused, but Alexis tracked his logic.  “Considering what we are going to do, that’s actually very valuable to know they are making appearances around here.”  

“Someone wanna fill me in?”

Murphy waved to Alexis, “You’re the boss, and it was your idea.  You tell him.”

“Seriously, please do,” I begged, tired of being out of the loop.

Alexis gave a nervous grin.  “We know that Surface Dwellers are looking to expand their turf out of the North part of the city, trying to encroach on central Ciel.  Where they have been shipping dart has made that clear.”

“With you so far.”  

“Right now, the other big power player in Ciel is Imperium, and they have a lot of investment in the central part of the city.”  

“Yeah, they have been fighting over control, this isn’t new to anyone.”  

“So far, it’s been a bit of a stalemate,” Murphy supplied, “Beleth knows he’s the kingpin and regarded as king of the underworld.  He’s hesitant to go all in and try to depose Imperium because that might leave them weakened and ready for someone else to capitalize.”  

Alexis picked up for him, “Our job is going to be to make an opportunity he can’t pass up.  If we weaken Imperium and provide him a chance to move in for the kill, we let them kick each other silly and help clean up the rest.”

I frowned, “You’re suggesting we set up a gang war with a lot of heavy hitters.  We’re gonna be way in over our head.”

“Such a big event is going to attract a lot of Reckoners to help contain the damage.  Clemency will make an appearance for sure as well as some other small teams like us.”

“It’s gonna be a nightmare,” I exclaimed.  

Alexis and Murphy smiled to each other.  “You’re the one who suggested the idea in Hosjon’s class,” she replied.  “We talked it over and realized it could work. If we can eliminate two of the big power players, that removes a ton of the criminal presence in Ciel.  Reckoners could actually get established and better network without the fear of a cartel coming down on their head.”

I remembered what I said…I just didn’t think I’d be a part of it.  Staring down the idea, it seemed daunting, terrifying even.

“Perk up big man!  We’re gonna start small and build our way up; we aren’t going to kick in Shockwave’s door first thing.  All we have to do is put blood in the water and entice Surface Dwellers.”

“Okay,” I said, still apprehensive.  I glanced to Alexis, “You’re sure about this?”

There was a fire behind her eyes that I almost never got a chance to see.  This was something she wanted, something she would be taking come hell or high water.  “You’re damn right I am. Rogue Sentries have a war to start.”

Previous chapter Next chapter

“Nick, you need to calm down,” Xana said again, “Please?”

    I didn’t reply, I just sat sullen in the passenger seat.  My face still hurt from where my dad had hit me, my pride still hurt from his verbal assault, and I was so fucking angry with what he’d said.  

    He’d rejected his son, in front of his girlfriend!  What kind of asshole fucking did that?

    My breathing was uneven, ragged.  It felt like I was somewhere between having a panic attack and trying to scream simultaneously.  Except, no sound came out, only this inconsistent and sharp inhale and exhale instead.  

    “NICK!”

    I finally centered my gaze on the woman driving.  “Nick, sweetie, you need to calm down. You need to take it easy.”  

    A hand rose to my face, touching where the skin was still red, starting to bruise.  “He hit me,” I snarled. “He called me a freak!”

    “He doesn’t know,” she whispered.

    “Don’t you dare defend him!”  I saw her cringe; she was stronger and faster than me, but still scared.  

She was afraid of what I could become.  

 

    Thirty-seven kilograms ready to consume.

    I could make myself weigh a tonne.  It would be short lived, but long enough to do some damage.  “Let me out of the car,” I growled.

    “Nick, what are you going to do?”

    “Just let me out, Xana.”  

    She shook her head, still terrified.  “That isn’t a good idea. I know you’re looking for a fight, you want someone to feel like you do.  But you can get bigger and stronger than anyone else. You’re might kill someone!”

    It felt almost alien as I turned to her and growled, “Then let me out so it isn’t you.”  

    Fear radiated from the driver’s seat, but Xana grit her teeth and kept driving, “I’m not gonna do that.  You’re angry, but you won’t hurt me.”

    My teeth clenched, infuriated that she had the nerve to call my bluff and that I had tried to make it in the first place.  Even with her confident rebuke, I could still see her nervous glances at me, seeing if I was going to shift in her car. I let her worry a little longer, seething.  

But eventually, my conscience nagged.  This was Xana, my girlfriend who had gotten me away from my dad.  She didn’t deserve this. I needed to get away from her, somewhere I could let loose without hurting her.

“Fine, I won’t do it here,” growled.  A slow down in traffic gave me the perfect opportunity to throw myself from the car.  I landed and rolled clumsily, something Murphy would have chastised had he seen it.

    “Nick, wait!” she called after me, frantic.  

    But it was too late, I was leaving, determined.  

    I started walking quickly towards the slums of Ciel, sure I would find someone who deserved a good thrashing.  While the capital had an active nightlife, people living in the slums hid indoors because of the rampant violent crime among the impoverished of the city.   There’d be some common criminal stealing something, beating someone, right?

    My power seemed to almost shift under my skin, trying to weasel out.  It was urging me to grow, to be angry, to show my dad why he should respect me.  

    “Call me a freak,” I growled.  I walked down an alley between massive, run down apartment buildings that all looked the same if you ignored the graffiti.  As expected, it was quiet except for a few people looking to hastily make it back indoors.  A few hushed exchanges–likely for drugs–were happening in the shadows of these monolithic buildings, but otherwise it was uncomfortably quiet.

Still, I pressed forward and listened intently for conflict, for unrest, for anything…

    And finally found exactly what I wanted.  

    “No, listen, I can pay you next week!”

    Leg breakers.  A perfectly punishable profession.     

“Big boss said you needed to pay tonight,” a massive Zari growled.  “You don’t look like a guy who has what we need.”

    I peered around the corner, it was by the back of a corner store that was adjacent to one of these massive slums which made the store look almost child-sized.  Still, two Zari were pressing a human against the dumpster as he shook and threatened to piss himself.

    Clothes fell to the cold ground as I relayed an instruction to my power.  

    Five hundred kilos. Full coat.

    My power was eager to comply, getting some outward expression at 30 kilograms were consumed to make a massive layering of flesh.  I was now seven feet and a half feet tall and coated in a nearly seven-inch layer of growths.  As usual, I donned the humanoid form like the Neklim that had caused me to Adapt.

    “Leave him alone,” I hissed as I tromped around the corner.  

    The two turned to me, initially alarmed.  “The fuck,” they both exclaimed in unison as I lumbered forward.  

Surprise was replaced with frustration quickly though as both brandished a blade.  “Man, ain’t no fuckin’ Neklim in the damn city. That shits a hologram.”

    With a plausible enough explanation, his friend’s confidence rose as well.  “Yeah, and Neklim don’t fucking talk neither! You’re just some asshole with a modulator.”  He turned to the human who was still shaking, “Fucking stay put while we deal with this loser.”

    He nodded, petrified, unable to do more than cower.    

    They were close now and felt it was time to charge.  I let one kick me and the other stab me. Both were baffled as they actually made contact and didn’t fall through what they assume to be a lightshow.

    “My turn,” I hissed.  My arm wrapped around one’s torso and lifted him off the ground, the other I simply backhanded;  he flew almost two meters before he hit the ground, landing in a still heap.

    The Zari I was holding fought and struggled, terrified.  He repeatedly stabbed me, but I hardly even registered it, the cuts all too shallow to threaten any real damage.  “Holy shit, holy shit, let me go! Let me go you fucking freak!” he screamed as he started kicking as well, vainly seeking escape.  

    Freak.  That word again.  

Another dose of rage, like someone heaping fuel onto a fire.  I turned and launched him into the dumpster nearly six meters away; he hit the side hard enough it bent.  

    “You think I’m a freak?” I fought the urge to roar since it would call attention I didn’t want.  “Is that what we are to you, freaks?”  He struggled to get off the ground, so I let my hand flow over his chest, ensnaring him as I lifted and held him aloft.  “Answer me you piece of shit!”

    “Eldritch, put the guy down.”

    Parasite landed behind me, skidding to a stop.  His usual smile was gone, never a good sign. “Come on man, the dude is a leg breaker and you probably broke half the bones in his body.  He gets it. That’s enough.”

    I continued to hold him as my friend nudged the first man awake, prompting him to run.  “Why are you here?”

    “She sent me after you.  Said you were gonna do something stupid.”

    She.  Xana. She must have called him the second I jumped from the car.  I should have been happy she cared, but I was just angry she had ratted on me.  “It isn’t your problem, or hers!”

    He frowned, “I’m your teammate, Eldritch. What you do, affects me.  Come on, put him down or I will make you.”

“Just let me go man,” the leg breaker pleaded.  

“Shut up!” I hissed at him, lifting him higher.  

“Seriously, shut up,” Parasite echoed, “But Eldritch, let go.  Let’s not complicate things here.”  

    I didn’t move.  

    “Eldritch, don’t do this,” my friend warned, deadly serious.

    I squeezed harder on the leg-breaker, feeling his ribs flex as he grunted and struggled.

    “Damn it,” Parasite growled as he bounded forward.  I let go and swung around with my now empty hand; too slow, Parasite ducked under and pivoted, jamming an empowered kick into my midsection and pushing me back a meter.  He snagged the battered man and dragged him away. “Run you fucking idiots!” he commanded without taking his eyes off me.

    Both leg-breakers and their victim were eager to oblige.  

    “Come on, undo your stuff.”  

    It was strange, because I forgot that Murphy was my friend and that Parasite was my teammate.  All I saw in him was that one word from my dad.

    Freak.  

    He was a freak and needed to be gotten rid of.  

    I swung around at him again, still too slow to connect as he leapt away, raising his hands in a non-threatening gesture.  “Goddammit, don’t make me do this.”

Abandoning all logic, I just charged recklessly.  Another swipe came up empty as he bounded away. Blindly I pursued, knowing that I needed to get a hold of him to do any real damage.  Parasite waited with grit teeth, waiting until I was almost on top of him before dropping down, knowing my momentum would keep me moving forward.  He spun and pushed his hand against the ground, launching his feet into my midsection.

The impact was enough to throw me onto my side.  

“Come on, Eldritch, you aren’t big enough to fight me.  I’m gonna be doing damage to you underneath and I don’t want that. Neither do you.”  

I growled, pushing myself back to my feet; my arm dragged across a split in the pavement and scooped up a massive handful of debris.  As I turned back to Parasite, I threw the pile of rock shrapnel and followed behind.

Several chunks found their mark and were disorienting enough for me to catch him.  The end of my arm snagged his wrist and pulled, dragging him in.

My friend responded by going with the movement, driving an empowered kick square into my chest.  Ribs cracked and I stumbled back, my concentration lost as I tried to think about commanding the growths and not worry about my human form underneath.  In that momentary delay, Parasite ripped his hand away, though it looked like he had to break his wrist to get free.

About the time I regained control, he bounded away and snagged something from beside a dumpster: a length of pipe.  

“Alright, fuck stick,” he snapped, “I don’t have any foam to hold you down, but I know that this’ll make a fucking dent.”  Even with the loose clothing he wore, I could see the shift of material into his arm, preparing to swing. “You’re getting the hell out of that, even if I have to make you.”

Don’t attack him.

 

But I still felt myself charging forward, defying my own instructions.  

 

I SAID STOP!

 

There was a stumble as my body tried to halt, my mind at war with the growths I had generated. But Parasite couldn’t tell and swung the pipe, aiming low and slamming my forms foot; he knew that I was suspended slightly off the ground and he wouldn’t be obliterating my ankle.  

Growths still fought against him, the pain snapping them back to attention and quelling my hold over them.  Another swing at his head, another dodge away. This time, as soon as his foot touched down, he leapt back into the fray, coming with a downward swing.  His weapon found my shoulder and crushed alien and human muscle alike.

And back out he leapt, carefully navigating his dance with me.  Parasite knew exactly how strong I was and was cautious; what I wasn’t equipped with was speed, a tool he had two years learning the limits of.  

In and out, each time finding a new place to strike and bruise, crushing muscle tissue and causing some damage to me below.  Several to the arms, one to my side, and a couple to my legs. Each time the organism piloting became more and more angry, flustered by this little whelp causing such damage.  The mounting agitation kept inciting more and more foolhardy and animalistic ideas.

Unlike Awe, I was someone Murphy could read and anticipate as my movements became more and more simple.

Another series of bludgeons and I finally felt something slip, the monsters control wavered and I seized back control, tired of being a passenger.  

“Stop,” I called to Murphy as he readed another swing.  “It’s me, again.”

He relaxed but didn’t lower the pipe and I can’t say I blamed him.  

“Get rid of the stuff,” he demanded.

Dissipate.

The layer of growths over my skin dispersed and I raised my hands, breath ragged.  

Murphy still wasn’t smiling, “Can I drop this now?”

I nodded taking a moment to compose myself, “Yeah, yeah.  Sorry about your wrist.”  

He dropped the pipe with a clatter and visibly relaxed as his posture slumped.  “I’ll heal,” he said, “But, you wanna tell me what the fuck that was about?  You wanna tell me why Xana had to fucking call me?”  

This was the first time I had ever seen Murphy angry.  I had seen him disappointed or sad, even incredibly depressed at times, but never angry.  Frustrated, determined, but never…this. “My dad,” I trailed off, falling to the ground, aware of the rough cement against my bare ass.  

Murphy scooped up and threw the pipe with a little extra juice, “What the fuck did he do that warranted nearly crushing a guy to death?”

“He, he just wouldn’t shut up…”

“And so you were gonna shut up those guys permanently?”

“HE HIT ME!”  I screamed. Murphy closed his mouth as I shook, overwhelmed with the emotional torrent I had tried to deny.  “He called Adapted freaks, and I got angry at him, and so I called him a coward…and he lost it. He hit me in the face, right in front of Xana.  I lost it and just needed to fight, needed to feel respected? I don’t know.”

He stepped over to me and wrapped his arms around me, giving me a hug.  “I won’t make this awkward if you don’t.”

I blushed and shoved him away; I’d almost forgotten I was naked.  “Goddammit man, get my clothes.” As out of place as his heckling seemed, I appreciated how good the normalcy felt.     

He obliged, his smile back in place.  “Damn it, Nick,” he growled as he took his mask off, “Now I feel guilty for hitting you!”   He removed his tunic as well and rolled up his costume, putting it under an arm, confident no one would notice.

“We’ve known I could lose control, and I guess now we know extreme emotional volatility makes it a lot easier to slip.  Thanks,” I muttered as he tossed my discarded clothing at me.

“And we also know a pipe is a good countermeasure for Neklim.”  

I let out a weak laugh, “Please don’t turn it on me again, I hurt so much right now.”  

“Don’t be an asshole and break my wrist next time,” he teased as the organism had already set to fixing the bones.  

My throat felt tight as I started talking, “Xana?”

His grin faded.  “She’s okay, shaken up though.  You’re gonna owe her for this. She said something about your threatening her.”

“I told her to let me out so I wouldn’t attack her.”  

He dropped his jaw, “Dude…”  

“Not my finest moment.  She knew I wouldn’t, but I could still see how much it rattled her.”  

Murphy shook his head, “Man, we have these crazy fucking gifts, of course she is gonna be scared when you start flying off the handle.  And hey, I get it,” he added, “You had reason to be upset. You dad smacked you around and called you a freak; anyone would be upset is that shit happened.  But, this, not cool. We’re Reckoners, and you went way out of line. And this is from me, you know it’s bad when I have to say something about this.”

It stung being the immature one in this situation.  Normally it was me harping on my friend for minding his manners or shutting up after he made an inappropriate joke.  “Yeah. Hey man, you mind if I sleep at your place? Not gonna piss your parents off or anything?”

He shook his head, “Nah, it’s fine.  It does mean we should probably run by a store or something so there is food in the house.”  

I frowned.  Murphy had always been reluctant to talk about his home life; all I knew was that it was lousy at best.  His parents seemed to perpetually be gone and he was left to struggle on his own. Even when asked directly about them, he never divulged much information.  

Come to think of it, had I ever met his parents?  

“But come on, I called Alexis, she’ll take us to my place.”  We stepped out onto the curbside about the time she pulled up in a chrome-colored car.  All it needed was a slight blue hue and it would have looked like a custom vehicle for Dragoon.  

Murphy took the passenger seat and I got into the back, immediately feeling her glare in the rearview mirror.  

“Thanks for this,” I muttered.  

She sighed, “Nick, what the fuck were you doing?  First Murphy calls me and says I might need to help put you down, and then Xana calls me in fucking tears.”  Alexis turned on me, scarlet hair flipping around wildly. “What the hell were you fucking thinking?”

My cheeks felt flush with shame, “I wasn’t.  I was just, angry.”

“And that’s—“

“Alexis, enough,” Murphy said calmly, “He got it from me.  Nick’s had a bad enough night, he doesn’t need you tearing him a new one.”  

She looked at him and he nodded, still oddly somber.  I couldn’t tell what they silently communicated, but her abrasive nature faded as she looked back to the road.  “What happened?” she finally asked.

“My dad called Adapted freaks.  I disagreed with him. He hit me. “

“Whoa,” she replied, caught off guard, “Shit,” she swore, “I’m sorry.”  She frowned, “Xana will be okay with you, just give her a night to cool off.  You really scared her.”

I nodded yes, words failing me.  I was ashamed of my actions and being rash, but the fact that I had threatened her with a power made me feel hollow, despicable.  It reinforced that I was a freak like my dad had said.

“I mean, you can get a little monstrous at times,” Murphy said with a giggle.  

“Are you fucking SERIOUS MURPHY?” Alexis shouted at Murphy as he came apart and started laughing; to my terror, she let go of the wheel entirely to slug my friend.  “I don’t care if that stupid thing won’t let me hit you! You. Gigantic. Ass!” Each word was punctuated with a strike that he simply absorbed, refusing to sober up.  

His bad taste aside, it felt good to feel the vibe in the car return to something more normal.  The two of them bickering playfully, this felt normal.

Normal felt so amazing in light of the last two hours.  

“Hey, Nick,” Alexis called back, “What are you gonna do about your dad?  I hate to kill the vibe here,” she added, “But should one of us make you up a bedroom for a while or what?”

So much for that feeling.  

“He’s gonna stay with me for the weekend,” Murphy replied on my behalf, for which I was grateful.  “I know where my parents keep liquor, and they are out of town. We’re going to engage in some therapeutic teenage hedonism and then he’ll go home and face his dad.  But for the next couple days, that clown can fuck off.”

“That sounds nice,” I affirmed.

A sickening pop was heard as Murphy let out a happy sigh.  “Oh thank fuck, finally! Wrist snapped back into place,” he explained.  

I looked to his hand as the bulge slipped away up his arm.  “How do you actually not feel that thing moving around inside you?”

“Oh and you’re any more normal Mr. I-grow-aliens-on-my-skin?  The only normal one of us here is Alexis, and she dreams of machines all day.”  

“Correction: I don’t dream of machines, I can just kind of flick a switch in my brain and start conceptualizing how I could make a robotic tool based on what I am focused on.”

“Speaking of,” I offered, “I think you should make Murphy a staff.”  

Murphy turned to me and Alexis glanced in the rearview mirror.  “Why?” they both asked in unison.

“Gives you some range, and gives you a little extra punch through against armored targets or bigger targets.  If we run into Goliath for example, you’re gonna want to be able to hit him harder and ensure some of the damage sticks.  Plus, I think you know how to use a staff like a pogo stick and bounce around.”

Murphy scoffed, “I’m not gonna go running around with a big metal staff everywhere.  Plus, what happens if I want to get all acrobatic and bounce around? Can’t do that with a big steel rod in hand.”  

“I can make it telescoping,” Alexis immediately countered.  “I could rig it to extend when you twist your hand in a specific way so you don’t accidentally collapse it mid fight.  Plus, the metal I make should hold up pretty well; at worst it breaks and you have to give it a minute to repair itself.”

“Gives you a way to deal with me that is more dignified than a lead pipe,” I offered.  “Plus, against someone like Awe, you need a way to fight someone stronger and faster; range would help cut that difference.”  

As we pulled up to the store, he clearly mulling it over.  “Do you have time to make me something? I don’t know how much metal you have left.”  

“I managed to get some more ordered.  I actually sold some of my drones to a few other Reckoners over in Manda.  Guys desperately needed some help with surveillance and had the bankroll we didn’t.”  

“We should talk more about the fascinating topic of money later,” Murphy announced as he opened the door, “But for now, he and I need to grab some food and I need to get him sufficiently libated in order to forget tonight.  Come along.”

Alexis and I glanced at each other and I shrugged; it wasn’t like I could exactly say no.  

“Let me know if you guys need anything, like a sober person,” she grumbled.  “I don’t want you running off doing anything else dumb tonight.”

“He gets it, mom,” Murphy groaned, “Come on, Nick, out of the damn car.”  

“I’ll be okay,” I promised as I slid out of the backseat and slammed the door, “We get up to much and I’ll let you know, alright?”

“You’d better.”  She drove off with a scowl, leaving me alone with the miscreant.  

“Alright!  I have a limited budget, but I feel like my man needs a steak.”  

“Steak?  I was thinking something more along the lines of pasta. Nothing I have to fight with,” I did wish I hadn’t missed out of my mom’s spaghetti.  

Murphy rolled his eyes, “God you are boring!  Tell you what, we get some liq steak and add that to a big vat of pasta.  Does that sate his majesty?”

“Why the protein pushing?”

“It all works best when I feed the beast,” he replied casually, thumping his chest.  No one else was going to catch the little ripple under his shirt as the organism moved.  “Besides, when is the last time we got to properly bro-out? Scotch and steaks! Try and tell me that isn’t exactly what you need right now?”

“Alright, fine.  When you’re right, you’re right.”

“Bitch please, I’m always right,” he reminded, widening his trademark smirk.  

Food acquired, we tromped our way through the crisp evening to his home.  Similar to mine in terms of layout, though his was a bit of a mess. There were clothes scattered around the house, and it didn’t seem like anyone had vacuumed in a while.  A few bean bag chairs were tossed around, as well as a cloth sofa. His family opted to put their dining table behind the kitchen in that one nook not visible from the front.  

“Where are your parents?”

He frowned for a split second, “Out, somewhere.  Working late? I don’t know honestly, we don’t keep in touch.”  

I frowned, “You said they were gonna be gone all weekend.”

“Because they are,” he assured me.  It wasn’t bluster either, he believed what he was telling me.  “Listen man, on another night, we can get into it about my parents.  But not tonight, yeah?”

He was giving me a place to stay and feeding me, I wasn’t going to push boundaries.  Very few existed with Murphy; I’d respect those he made a point to mention. “Sure thing man.”  

“But come on, make yourself at home.  I’ll cook stuff and you can take a drink.”  He dropped the bag on the counter and opened a cabinet, procuring a bottle with a large ‘A’ emblazoned on the label.  “Not the best stuff ever, but still Scotch.”

He poured me a shot and slid it over the bar between the living room and kitchen.  I took it and hesitated for a moment before slamming it back.

Dear Lord did that burn.

My friend laughed as I wheezed and choked from the abrupt burn of the liquor.  He took his own shot with a lot more grace than I managed and poured us a second round.  “Come on, Nicky, don’t quit on me now.”

“F-fuck you,” I choked out as I grabbed the second shot.  God it hurt, but I wasn’t about to be outperformed by my clown of a friend.  

“Cheers!”

A second one down the hatch.  A refresher for the burn ripping through my throat.  “Man that is bad,” I sputtered as Murphy started filling a pot with water.  

“It’s Scotch, the stuff isn’t meant to be gentle,” he laughed as the water was put on to boil.  “Because for some reason, when the asshole on Earth made this stuff, he decided that it needed to feel like you were chugging fire.”  

“Humans are assholes,” I muttered as he thankfully passed me a glass of water.  

“I’ll drink to that.”  He poured himself a third shot and glanced at me.  

“Oh fuck you!  You know I have to take another!”  

He grinned, “Of course you do!  I calculate my actions more than you think.”  As he’d done already, he poured and slid the shot glass back to me with that shit-eating grin.  “Bottoms up!”

This one hurt less, the alcohol already dulling my sense of pain.  That or I was better adjusted now.

Murphy was content to be quiet and focus on cooking for a little bit while I studied the bottom of a shot glass and thought about my night.  “Hey, Murph,” I started.

He shot me a sideways glance as he began to fry the steaks on the grimy stove-top.  

“Do you think we’re freaks?”  

“Nah,” he said with a dismissive shake, “I think we’re a bunch of oddballs.  Freaks? Nah. I think your guilt is talking and that shit needs to stop. Last I remembered, Nicholas Weld was a fun drunk.”  

“Nicholas Weld doesn’t normally do something so dumb,” I replied as the alcohol really began to set in.  “He normally doesn’t threaten his perfect girlfriend with a fucking superpower.”

Murphy groaned, “Oh come on man, everyone has bad days!  Get over yourself already! She won’t hold it against you, and you said some dumb shit after a really bad dinner.  We both know you and Xana are great together; she’ll forgive you, probably give you some shit, and that’ll be that.  Now, get happy damn it! Don’t make me get another pipe,” he threatened.

He mentioned a pipe and I cringed; I was glad the alcohol was masking the pain of the abuse I had suffered earlier.  “I’m down on myself, not threatening to grow. Besides, I only have like eight kilos sitting around, I couldn’t do that much damage even if I wanted to.”  

He stared at me intently, “Could you eat yourself?”

“Pardon?”

“You eat mass right, to convert?”  I nodded. “So, you’re made of meat.  If it was really desperate, could you just steal your own muscle and fat to bulk up for a bit?”

I shuddered at the thought, “I don’t want to start digging into myself, that sets a scary precedent.  Besides, all I can eat is dead stuff. I tried eating living tissues once and it didn’t do anything.”

He shrugged, “You’re the owner, maybe you’re like a weird exception?”

“All the same, I’m not gonna try it out.  Taking kilogram sized chunks out of myself doesn’t sound great.  Plus, if I started devouring myself, idk how I would stop. Generally I eat all of something, not parts.”  

“I’m not saying just do it all willy nilly!  But, like, if shit went very south, it might be an option.  You never know when we might need a little extra kick, ya know?”

“Shut up an’ pour us another round, you lightweight,” I said with a shake of my head, “I’m not nearly drunk enough to find you entertaining.  

His grin turned to a giddy smile, “There’s the fun loving Nick I know!”

“I said pour!”

Murphy obliged and we both slammed the shot.  

Pouring a jar of sauce over the pasta, he cut up the liq steak and threw it into the mix.  “In hindsight, we probably should have had you eat before drinking; you are gonna be so fucking smashed in a bit.”

“Well, you did say you wanted to get me sufficiently libated, right?”

He grinned, “I do suppose I did.”   

We were content to eat quietly for a second, Murphy standing across the bar from me while I perched on a barstool.  

“Hey Murphy,” I started.

The fork hit his plate as he looked up, indignant.  “So help me, if this is another spiel about your melancholy for your actions…”

“No, it isn’t.”

His mood lightened, “Oh, go ahead.”

“I was thinking about the discussion we had in class this morning.  Do we make things better? I mean, I know the gangsters are just causing damage thanks to turf wars.  But Reckoners, do we really help? If we beat down Surface Dwellers, does Imperium just fill the void?  Are there criminal versions of us: small timers who want to be a big name? Is this just bound to be a cycle?”

Murphy mulled the idea over a minute, “I think you’re getting too withdrawn man.  You’re dreaming way too far out, way beyond what we control. There was that old saying from Earth: all that is necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.  We know of some evil bastards, so we’re doing something about it. Simple.”

He was right, but still, something felt wrong to me.  

It may have been the booze talking, but I felt like life was never going to be simple again.  

Previous Chapter            Next chapter 

(9/21/2080)

The day after Rogue Sentries made their big debut picking a fight with Shock and Awe; thanks to the internet and Alexis’ suit recording the event, we were quite the hot topic.  Whenever there were fights between Adapted, Zari and human alike showed interest: everyone loved a good blood sport.

In passing, I saw a few people watching the clips that Alexis had ‘leaked’.  

As my monstrous self, I was slamming Awe into the wall and knocking him down for the count; some of the onlookers gave an ‘oh damn’ and cringed when they saw me hit the gangster to the floor.  

But now, I was back to being Nicholas Weld, high school student.  It was a little painful not being able to declare myself a Reckoner and instead be normal like everyone else.    

Murphy shared my last class for the day; we sat next to each other, passing a smile no one else would understand.  He looked a lot better after a night of letting his organism tend to his injuries.

“See the fight?” I asked.

“I’m familiar,” he replied with a cheshire grin.  

The door closed and my favorite teacher by far stepped in: Mr. Hosjon, the history and ethics professor.  Most Zari instructors, as well as most human teachers, were all intent on sticking to the curriculum and being very by-the-book.  There was no coloring outside of the lines, and very little room for independent thought. It felt a little suffocating frankly.

Mr. Hosjon, however, was thankfully the opposite.  

As he walked to the front of the room, he looked over his shoulder, “I understand there has been a new Adapted fight, but I will have to ask you to put your phones away for now.  Don’t worry, I promise to keep things interesting.”

There were a few groans as people complied and he pulled up a chair to a small table he sat behind.  His class had about 25 people, about eight human and the rest Zari; the room itself was split into six tables, two columns of three tables that faced the front.  I was sitting next to the aisle between the tables in the second row, Murphy immediately to my right.

“So, what did you think of the fight,” Zanpu—a great big oaf—asked from the back of the room.  

“It looks like Shock and Awe were poor about choosing targets,” he replied without a glimmer of hesitation.  The whole room lit up in a clamor, baffled that he was hip on the trending video. “And, whoever that Eldritch guy is, I wouldn’t want to get in his way.  Now come on, simmer down,” he instructed with a smile, clearly enjoying surprising his class.

Murphy kicked me under the table and I had to suppress laughing.  If only he knew.

“But, I’d like to address that video, and so many before it.”  The class quieted as he dragged his finger along the smartboard like one would use a marker.

After writing the words—Embrace the change—he turned back to the class.  “Adaptation, as you all know, is a huge fixture in today’s culture.  There is speculation still about an agency from the Zari government dedicated to abducting these individuals and keeping them quiet.  Equally troubling reports come about a human faction looking to capture Adapted and experiment on them, see if Adaptation is something that can be replicated.  I stress,” he added as a few people started to pile on, “That these agencies are speculative. I’m not here to talk about them or postulate on their reality. We can talk about them later.”

He was referring to Suppression and Snatchers respectively.  Message boards about Adapted were littered with stories about people being abducted or killed by either one of these agencies.  Since neither existed officially on paper, they seemed to have no real limitation to what they could do. It was a large reason that people had secret identities; no one wanted to expose themselves to an organization with no rules like that.  Beleth was so far the only man to go around without a mask that I had heard of, but he was an exception with his absurd power.

Professor Hosjon kept talking, “We have seen plenty of these fights between Adapted, and it begs the question: should we endorse it?”

The class was quiet for a moment, waiting for the other shoe to drop, knowing it was never that simple.  He’d add layers to his debate, give multiple avenues to think through.

He grinned, “I have you all so well trained.  The reason I ask is because I had a thought last night that I would like to discuss.  The Trillodan have stalled any kind of advancement on Tso’got, it’s true. We can deny it if we want, but that’s a discussion for a different day.  No, my question stems from how the Trillodan select their targets.” Everyone shut up quickly; seldom did anyone talk about the Trillodan either out of fear or respect for the galactic tyrants.  “They destroy planets and civilizations they see as being technologically advanced enough to threaten them. While Adaptations may not be a form of technological advancement, it could be seen as a form of biological advancement.”

A few people muttered around the room.  

“What I would like to discuss today is whether or not we should allow Adapted to continue as is since their presence and their publication continue to spread like wildfire.  Could they be seen as a threat by the Trillodan and should we act upon that notion? Should the Trillodan even be considered since this isn’t a matter of technological creation but instead a strange fluke of biology?  My opinion is irrelevant in this discussion. As usual, I am just the arbiter. So, one at a time. Let’s start with anyone who is against the Adapted. Yes, Ranal?” The professor gestured to a Zari in the back of the room who stood up, nearly six and a half feet tall.  

“Adapted are all human anyways, I personally say we should get rid of them.”

Mr. Hosjon frowned, “Unless you have a point to make, don’t waste the classes’ time.  Someone who has an actual opinion?”

His slightly smaller friend Jax stood up beside him, “Let me help my friend articulate.  Zari aren’t the thing that would be attracting the possible attention of the Trillodan. Ranal is right, we shouldn’t just harbor them.  Even if it’s a slim chance that the Trillodan are drawn here, it’s still too much chance. Protocol 37 will wipe out everyone, not just our guests.”  

“Very well.  Anyone vying in favor of the Adapted?  Yes, Nick?”

I was already standing before he had finished saying my name.  “I think that Adapted shouldn’t be persecuted because they’re armed with weird gifts.  Maybe we shouldn’t celebrate them like gladiators, but we shouldn’t kill them for trying to do the right thing.”

“The right thing?”  Kelek, a Zari girl across the room rose, “I’m sorry, but most Adapted in Ciel are in gangs and spend their night terrorizing innocent people.  Supposedly the guy who made Dart is an Adapted chemist; how is that a good thing for society?”

I sat down as Murphy got up, “So you’d aim to judge everyone because of what some of them are doing?”

“Excuse me, but I believe we are forgetting our etiquette.  Murphy, Kelek, I appreciate your passion for the topic, but I must insist you wait until called upon.”  He paused as the room quieted back down. “Now, I would also like to play devil’s advocate for a moment,” he announced, using a markedly human expression, “Reportedly, about 60% of the Adapted in Ciel are known criminals and the rest are Reckoners.  But, I recommend that everyone looks at a larger scale picture. Jax was onto something when he pointed out that if Protocol 37 was activated, it would torch all of Tso’got, not just the human population. But,” he added slyly, “Is it always appropriate to just kowtow to authority?”

I love this about Mr. Hosjon’s class.  Most teachers refused to acknowledge the Trillodan; in his class, we were debating whether they were worth kneeling to.  

It was why no one ditched, not even Murphy, and he was notoriously truant.  

“Let’s start here, who thinks that we should follow our current course, which lets us guarantee survival, and acknowledge the Trillodan supremacy by silencing the Adapted?”  

Seventeen of the class raised their hand.  

“And who believes we should not censor these unique beings and instead incorporate them as a part of our social tapestry?”

Eight raised their hand and one abstained in the back.  

 “Kelek, I believe you were making a point before Murphy interjected.  And for everyone, interrupt and you will have to remain silent for the duration.”  

Silence overtook the room, energy and tension palpable as Kelek rose from her seat to start again, “I don’t like what the Trillodan are doing to people, but the Adapted are a threat to them. I’ve never heard of anything like them, have any of you?”  A collective ‘no’ was murmured. “The Trillodan opt to destroy technology that seems to constitute a threat, and as we pointed out earlier, there are some Adapted that clearly make that list. If we can get rid of them and give the Trillodan every reason to leave us alone, I think we should.  They are only like a tenth of a percent of the population in humans between the ages of 13-25, a pretty small group to get rid of for the good of a whole planet if you ask me.”

Nods, a few mutters of agreement.  

“Now, Murphy, would you like to retort?”

“I would!”  He popped up from his chair, grinning.  “This is gonna be a bit on the nose, but bending over for the Trillodan is some pussy shit.”  

“Murphy,” Mr. Hosjon reprimanded, “Language.”  

“Sorry sir, but cowardice felt like too mild a term.  Yes, Adapted are causing trouble and commotion, and yeah they have made things more competitive and dangerous.  But, when you are willing to throw an entire sect of people under the bus without giving them a voice, that sets a scary precedent.  What happens the next time something questionable comes to light?”

A human girl got up, not someone I recognized.  “Sorry professor, can I add onto Murphy?”

“Go ahead Amy.”  

“I think Trillodan are stifling things from advancing.  The same technology has been top of the line for nearly two decades, and it’s slowly killing the economy of Tso’got.  I think the criminal Adapted maybe should be gotten rid of and the gangs should be persecuted because they are criminals, not because of their weird biology. Reckoners are at least trying to help and many of them have gifts that could be hugely beneficial for the rest of us. But turning them over, that just cements in that the Trillodan own us, and I don’t think I’m comfortable with that.”

Another hand was acknowledged and Jax stood up.  “Sure, but should we allow for vigilantes to go around unchecked?  I mean, what happens if Titan has a bad day or Clemency goes off the handle?”

“It hasn’t happened yet.”

“But if it does, it is going to be devastating!  Adapted just upset the way things flow, make swings in power dangerous.  Besides, even if we narrowed our focus on getting rid of the biggest criminal threats, would that be good or bad?  If someone was to get rid of Beleth and the Surface Dwellers, how many people are gonna fight the fill the spot?”

“Very good point,” the teacher interjected as he waved for Jax to take his seat.  “Power vacuums are an important thing to keep in mind. Abrupt shifts from criminal empires being overthrown have drastic ramifications to everyone, not just the criminals involved.  Even before Adapted were here, there were gang wars that ended up with hundreds injured or killed. I’m not sure how to calculate the destructive nature of Adaptations into the mix, but I know for sure it would up the stakes.”  

I raised my hand to speak after the professors informative moment.  “I don’t think a power vacuum from Beleth dying would be the worst thing.  If we’re talking about Adapted as a whole, deposing a kingpin so the rest scramble and eliminate one another would make it easier for Reckoners to clean up the rest.  It might even end up with a safer place for people to live once the fighting stops.”

“That is markedly optimistic, and it doesn’t account for how many people might get caught up in a crossfire.  Jax raises a good point: there are some Adapted who are simply scary powerful. Beleth, Titan, Shockwave, just to name a few.  Whenever there is serious confrontation with any of those characters, damage is catastrophic. Shockwave and Beleth have fought twice, and I think there were four civilian casualties as collateral.  I am terrified to imagine a full scale war between Imperium and the Surface Dwellers”

“I understand,” I replied to Mr. Hosjon, “But in terms of bigger picture, there has to be an upsetting.  Most of the news about Adapted stems from the criminal side of things. Imagine what good could happen though if that element was done away with.  Yeah, it’d be ugly, but wouldn’t everyone benefit after the initial upset?”

“That may be a rather callous take on things, but you might be right as well.  Not my place to answer, though I’m sure one of your peers can try.”

A human in the back row got up, “I feel like we’re forgetting the possibility of a bigger picture.  If the Trillodan take an interest in the weird biology of Adapted, wouldn’t making the biggest fight in history highlight how crazy destructive they can be?  Wouldn’t that be like a flare going off?”

Eyes turned back to me and Hosjon gave me a nod.  “Maybe we shouldn’t just bend over for them. Maybe someone should stand up against them.  Maybe Murphy’s right, bending over because we’re afraid isn’t a good thing.”

“How’d that go for humans?” Ranal blurted.  

I turned to open my mouth but Mr. Hosjon beat me to it, “Ranal, inappropriate.  That was uncalled for and if there is ever an outburst like that in my class, it will be the last time you come through my door.  Am I clear?”

A hush fell over the room as I continued to stand there, stunned and furious.  I knew other people had been thinking that, but it still felt like a swift kick to the stomach.  Ranal sat down, dejected, but the damage had been done.

I was saved by Murphy standing up beside me, “Well, maybe that’s exactly why we shouldn’t just be cowed.  If humans can grow a spine and stand back up to them after they torched our planet, why shouldn’t the Zari?”

Another Zari I didn’t recognize stood up, “I’m not willing to risk my neck against the Trillodan.  They’ve purged how many planets and cultures out of existence now? Why in the hell would you want to fight them?”  

Before I could give a hot-headed and emotional reply, Mr. Hosjon cut in again, “As Murphy mentioned earlier, there is a slippery slope we teeter on by being content to live underneath the thumb of the Trillodan.  We do allow ourselves to be subject to their whim, and consider we are discussing purging a whole sub-species to appease them. Humanity, historically, fought for freedom, for right of choice and privilege of ideals.  However, one must consider risk vs. reward.  Now, Nick, if you’ll take your seat and let someone else speak please.  You too Murphy, Pols, you did speak out of turn.”

I did as requested and the rest of the class continued to be a heated debate about the presence of Adapted putting people at risk and whether or not they were justified to exist in modern society.  It stung a little bit that the majority of people ended up wanting Adapted gone if they were of interest to the Trillodan.  When the Trillodan were discussed as a non-factor, the opinion was more middling; some people found them fascinating like I did while others believed their arcane abilities just made life more onerous for everyone.

Still, my gripe with the class was diminished knowing that half the campus was watching me smack Awe hard enough to knock him cold.  People might call us threatening, but they were still fascinated with our antics.  

After class, Mr. Hosjon stopped me and pulled me aside.  “Mr. Weld, do you have a moment?”

“Sure, you were my last class anyways.”  

“Good!  Now, while you are an active participant in my discussions, you struck me as someone who had a bit of a…personal investment.”

A lump formed in my throat.  Did he know? Was that even possible?  

“I think Adapted are amazing and I think they shouldn’t be shit on because they’re different.  Especially Reckoners, they’re trying to help.”

“I didn’t ask for a recap of what you said earlier, Nicholas, I’m curious what your personal tie to this is.”  His eyes bored into me, as if he was peering at my soul. There was no way I could lie to him.  

“With all due respect sir, I’d rather not say.  With the activities of Suppression and the law saying that all Adapted are supposed to be reported for ‘registration,’” I said in air quotes, “I’m really not a fan of talking about it.”    

“Fair enough.  Well, you might want to tell Murphy to smile less in costume.”

“You…”

My teacher smiled, “Relax.  I’m the only Zari who pays enough attention to know his face by heart and I definitely recognized that shitty grin of his. I’ll admit, I wasn’t quite sure, but your reaction gave me confirmation.”  

“You won’t-”

“Oh God no,” he laughed.  “No, I wouldn’t turn my students over to the government.”  He paused, contemplative as sized me up, “The running theory is that Adapted tend to attract each to one another, naturally forming cliques and why most move in groups.  You are his closest friend, it seems natural that you’d be prone to Adapt.  You’re one as well, aren’t you. And I’m pretty sure you aren’t the person recording,” He smiled like he already knew.

I replied softly, fearing someone might overhear, “Yeah, I’m Eldritch.”

His grin widened, “Can I see?”

I reached into my supply and used a little bit of the thirty kilograms I had laying around.  Tendrils sprouted off my fingers and hand, effectively making a glove of growth. “Not the most powerful, but it does get the job done.”  

“Fascinating,” he muttered as I let the growths disperse into dust.  “Well, rest assured, your secret is safe with me. I’m sure I’ll be hearing about more of your work soon enough though.”  

A nervous smile crept across my face, “Probably.  We might take a day or two off. Shock and Awe were um, no pushovers.”  

Mr. Hosjon laughed, “No, no, I shouldn’t expect so.  I know exactly how Adapted make a name for themselves.”

I bit my lip, nervous to ask, “Sir, about the discussion in class,” I started.

“You’re wondering where I stand,” he surmised.  “I think I’m fairly neutral. Between us, I find your lot fascinating!  I mean, Murphy endured being kicked twenty meters! You were getting zapped by lightning!  The two of you are like people from the old comic books from Earth!” His expression of wonderment faded, replaced with something more somber.  “But, I don’t believe the Adapted are either good or bad. Instead they are….extreme. They highlight what is wrong with Tso’got, with the way the government is being handled, and with our nature as a society in general.  They encapsulate the best and worst aspects, all while being some of the most dangerous people alive. I mean, you broke down a steel door,” he added in a hushed whisper. “What if you had a bad day? You may not be Titan, but I certainly couldn’t stop you.”  

He wasn’t wrong, but it still felt like a sucker punch for my favorite teacher to simply tell me that I was hazardous.  “I get it.”

“This isn’t me condemning you,” he assured, noting my dismay, “Not at all.  I’m simply saying to be careful. The road to hell is paved with good intentions, and I know that if you choose to go the route of a Reckoner, it’s going to be…harrowing.  Stay grounded and stable. Do remember, I’m not going to give any special dispensation despite your extracurriculars, Mr. Weld. I expect the paper I assigned handed in on time.”  

“Yes sir,” I said with a salute.  

“Now get out of here, I know Murphy is waiting.  Make sure to tell him to stop ditching his other classes; he’s smart enough to eek by but could be doing so much more.”  

I frowned, “All due respect sir, but his home situation is…not the best.  I think he’d be better off hearing it from someone like you.”

Mr. Hosjon cocked his head to the side, “Yes, I suppose you’re probably right.  Well, I will make a point to pull him aside after class next time. I was just worried about confronting him directly about…well…this,” he said with a chuckle.  “It isn’t often I can point out a student I recognize because of a distinctive smile. If he got the wrong idea, who knows what he might have done.”

Still, that apprehension.  It made sense, still just stung that he viewed us as scary and possible volatile.  “I’ll let him know to change that.”

I waved goodbye and headed out into the hallway, where Murphy was in fact waiting.  “You took fucking long enough,” he groaned as he got off the floor and filed in beside me.  “What did he want anyways?”

“To let you know he recognized your smile,” I muttered quietly.  

His grin slowly faded as the information sank in.  “Wait, he knows?”

“Don’t worry.  Others won’t.”

“Dude,” he hissed, “Hosjon could turn us in!”

I rolled my eyes, “You think he’d let some of the most dangerous kids in the school know he has their secret while we’re right next to him?  The guy isn’t dumb. Plus,” I added, “He actually gives half a shit about his students. Any other teacher, I’d say you’re right. But come on, he’s a good dude!  Even you attend his class regularly.”

Murphy didn’t seem entirely convinced, “It also means if he noticed, it is possible other people will.  Day one in a costume and someone makes me.”

“Just don’t smile so damn much when you’re wearing that mask and you should be good.”  

His grin crept back onto his face, defiant, “But that would ruin my look!  The trick is to look like you’re not afraid, it keep people off their game.”  

I gave him a glare, “It didn’t seem to help us out too much last night.  We’re lucky they chose to fight dumb. If they had been really intent, we’d have been toast.”  

Murphy shrugged, “You’re probably not wrong, but let’s think about that later, yeah?  Don’t you have a date or something?”

“She’s just picking me up and we’re gonna get a late lunch.”

He pantomimed some pelvic thrusting, “That’s what I hear you suggesting.”

I turned and hit him hard enough it should have hurt; he didn’t even move, the thing under his skin taking the blow.  “Someday,” he promised, “Someday you’ll hit me hard enough to do some damage.”

A glance showed no one around us, everyone either having left the building or sequestered in another classroom.  “I have like 25 kilos on me, I could get big enough to hit you and do some damage.”

“If you can get a hold of me,” he jested as he exited the building.  Outside there were a handful of Zari smoking, most of them giving a fairly wide berth for Murphy as he nodded and walked by.  Even as a human, Murphy had managed to establish himself as a bit of a campus badass, never shying away from a fight. He told me that he’d never used his power to augment his hits, and the only time he used it to absorb impact was if he was taking a hit to his midsection that would do some real damage.  

On his own, he was quick witted and strong enough to fight people who weighed 20 kilos more than him.  I’d seen him do it, and it was impressive. After learning about his Adaptation, I’d still seen him do it and looked for the telltale uses; he never used it against non-powered people, not wanting to accidentally hit someone hard enough to kill them.    

“Someday I gotta figure how you fight so well.  When do you even train?”

He scoffed, “You know how much time I have home alone?”

The conversation was quelled by Xana’s car pulling up to the curb beside us.  “Hey, you two!”

“Our getaway driver!”  Murphy skipped over to the back door and let himself in, his usual giddy demeanor back in place.  “Thank the stars you showed up. Your boy toy was threatening to attack me!”

She glared at me as I climbed in passenger side.  

“What, he was being an ass!”

“Just my usual level,” my friend countered before Xana could even venture to ask.  “I swear, no more than usual!”

“You two need to be housebroken,” she groaned as she put the car into gear and drove away.  “Murphy, am I just taking you home or what?”

“If that’s not too much trouble.”

“Of course not!  Plus, you’re basically on the way to our place.”  

I rounded and glared as he opened his mouth, “Don’t,” I cautioned, “Don’t you fucking do it!”

Murphy visibly fought the urge to say something reprehensible and had to force his mouth closed; the smile lingered as I knew he still wanted to just spit it out.  Our standoff lasted a full minute before I finally turned back around. “Bow chika wo-“

I spun and threw my backpack at him which evoked raucous laughter from the other two occupants of the car.  

A few minutes of immature humor later, we dropped Murphy off and he had to make a parting saucy comment about the couple as I hurled empty threats.  Still, I was smiling; this was our usual banter and I didn’t really want it to change.

“So, my sexy Reckoner,” Xana purred from the driver seat, “How was having a secret identity?”

It was kind of odd to think about; I did now have a secret identity and a life that no one knew of yet.  “I guess, kinda boring. There’s already a part of me that misses that adrenaline from our fight….though I don’t really care for the cracked ribs.  I’d have to reactivate my power to heal and that makes me a little envious of Murphy.”

She grinned and started chuckling.  

“What?”

She waved, laughing harder, “Oh God, you don’t wanna know.”

“Well now I have too!”

Xana took a minute to compose herself, “What if he used that thing…down there?”

My face twisted in disgust as I couldn’t help but picture my best friend using an alien organism to make himself hung like a horse.  “OH WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!?!”

She kept laughing, “I’m so sorry!”

I knew she wasn’t.  I just glared at her and shook my head.  “You have problems. You know that?”

Still beside herself, she just put the car back into gear and drove away, snickering the whole time.  

Our destination was a place built to cater to humans; a nostalgia hit that was like an old-school diner from Earth.  Barstools, colored-leather booth seating, and proper wait staff instead of just an automated ordering process. The menu included dozens of permutations of burgers and sandwiches, offered a soup of the day, and of course they had milkshakes.  

Xana and I had come here any number of times and had grown used to a few of the wait staff, but today got someone new.  

And we both knew as he walked up, he didn’t approve of our coupling.  

His nose wrinkled in disgust as he put his pen to the notepad.  “Welcome to Mel’s diner, what can I get you.”

I saw my girlfriend about to open her mouth, to say something about his demeanor but I kicked her under the table and shook my head slightly.  It wasn’t worth contesting, not worth making a scene over. The majority of people, human and Zari saw crossbreeding as a sick habit that was only practiced by youthful degenerates.  Going around as a crossbreeding couple was an assault on some people’s sensibilities.

The fire slowly dwindled from her eyes.  “I’ll have the shredded beef barbeque sandwich and a vanilla shake,” she said slowly, measured, doing her best not to shout at the man for being a bigoted twat.

“I’ll have a bacon burger and an orange soda please,” I requested.  

He took our orders and left without a word: I wasn’t happy, but Xana was seething.  As impassive as I could be, needing a push often, she took it upon herself to get involved.  

The problem was that it extended into assumed duties like correcting everyone’s world view.  While her hyper-invested way of living might have been better than my detached option, it made her constantly confrontational.  

“He’s an ass,” she concluded aloud, “Fuck him.”

I sighed, “Xana, don’t shit on the waiter.  He can spit in our food,” I said plainly, “And he isn’t worth getting upset over.  So many people just think we’re gross, and that’s their shitty opinion.”

“Yeah, well, they’re wrong.  Someone should tell them.”

“God forbid you ever get any kind of public office,” I sighed, “You’d make so many enemies instantly.”  

She rolled her eyes, “Political people are figureheads anyways.  I don’t wanna be one of them. I’m not being cowed by corporate cunts.”  

“Nice alliteration,” I replied, “But you most know what I mean.”

A sigh escaped her lips.  “I do, I really do. It just blows my mind how people can be so shitty.  Humans and Zari had been in contact for 20 years prior to your planet…” she trailed off.  “And now that you’re here, of course people are gonna be flirting around! Why the fuck wouldn’t we?  I just don’t get why people have to shame something that is a bit different. I’m not making them do it, why do they care?”

“People are dumb?” I suggested with a trace grin.  

“They definitely are,” she concurred.  “I just wish that wasn’t the only rationale that existed to justify why people treat us like garbage because you like Zari pussy and I like human dick.”  

I nearly choked.  “Come on, public,” I hissed, my cheeks flushed.  

She giggled, my embarrassment helping restore her good mood.  “Well, I mean,” she glanced at the other patrons, “They have to know we’re fucking.  Surely someone put two and two together. Maybe I should just announce it so everyone knows!  I mean, maybe more Zari girls should try out human cock.”

My face must have flicked from red to a stark white of panic for fear that she might actually shout to everyone she loved to jump my bones as often as possible.  Fortunately, she just gave me a sly grin and a wink. “You are murder on my blood pressure,” I lamented as the waiter came back and dropped off our order without a word.

Thanks to our asshat of a waiter and a few obnoxious couples we saw glaring at us, we opted to eat quickly and scurry away.  

And of course the second we walked outside, I received a text from my mom, asking me to come home.  “Well, our afternoon is having a pin put in it,” I lamented.

“Parents?”

“Parents.  My mom wants me to come home presumably to help out with dinner…which may well mean family time or just forced bonding time with my dad.”  

In my father’s eyes, bonding meant learning about the world he came from, and reliving the glory days with old cinema and games.  Some of the old card games of Earth were pretty neat, but he was never willing to try anything new and come to grips with the fact that we were living on Tso’got and that times had changed.  

Still, it would mean a lot to my mom if I was willing to just humor my old man.

“You want me to come along as a buffer?”

The thought of it removed a lot of the bad taste from my mouth.  “If it isn’t too much trouble.”

Xana smiled, “Relax, my parents would be just as happy to get me out of their hair for the night.  Just a shame the walls at your place aren’t thicker.”

I rolled my eyes, “Now you’re just trying to get me into trouble!”

“Guilty as charged!”

With the music cranked up, we didn’t talk much as we drove the few kilometers to my families little flat.

“I brought a guest,” I announced as we walked inside.  

My mother popped around from the ‘den’ that curved around to the right of the kitchen.  “Oh, hi Xana!”

“Hiya Mrs. Weld,” she called back happily, “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

“Of course not!  You’re always welcome, you know that.  No, my husband just wanted to have dinner as a family.  You should join us!”

I felt a wave of relief at my mother inviting her.  Now it was official that she could stay.

“We did just get a late lunch,” I confessed.  

“Well dinner isn’t for an hour, and you’re a 17 year-old boy.  I’m sure you’ll be able to eat in another hour. Just a little bit so you’re at the table.”  

As expected, I was obligated to help my mom ready things for dinner, and Xana wasn’t allowed to help because she was the guest.  Instead she just sat around and chatted up my mother, asking about her work life and what she had been up to. I was sure that my girlfriend didn’t give a single fuck about my mom working as an air quality analyst, but it was really hard to tell.     

About the time we had dinner ready, my dad walked through the door and I could feel the room stiffen.  “Family, Xana,” he said in curt greeting as he took off his coat and hung it, walking over to the table and sitting down.  

My mom hurried to grab the pasta off the counter and brought it to the table and the four of us sat down.  

All of us served ourselves, the whole table tense.  From the lack of enthusiastic greeting, we all knew my dad was on edge, but the question for my mother and I was if Xana would be enough of a deterrent for him to remain civil?

“Why the hell are we all so quiet?  You two,” he gestured with a fork, “What the hell happened around school today?”

“My class almost set a chemistry lab on fire,” Xana announced, oddly proud.  “Someone made thermite and didn’t have to good sense to have a crucible ready to catch it.  Burned a hole through a table.”

He gave an amused chuckle and my mother looked concerned.  “Was anyone hurt?”

“Of course they weren’t,” my dad replied, “Otherwise it’d be a fucking tragedy.  What about you boy?”

“I had Hosjons class today, it was a pretty fun discussion.”  

Immediately after saying those words, I regretted it.  “That’s the ethics guy you like so much, right? What the hell did you talk about?”

“Adapted,” I said after a pause, unable to lie.  

His gaze narrowed, honing in on me.  “What did he have to say about those freaks?”

This wasn’t the first time that we’d talked about the Adapted since I had my change and it still hadn’t lost that sting.  I was lumped in with that group of freaks, and he had no idea. Would he even care if he knew?

“He asked if we thought they were helping out around the city or if they were making things worse.”  

My dad was an asshole, and a bit dense in some subjects.  What he did know well was how to read people. He could always tell when someone wasn’t being entirely honest if he really set his mind to it.  I had mentioned Adapted and unfortunately that meant I had his full attention. “What else?”

“We talked about whether they are going to attract the Trillodan and what should be done about them.”  

That word, mention of that species, it had the man seeing red.  “And for fucks sake, did you say those freaks should burn? That they make everything they touch a million times worse?”  I wasn’t sure what he saw on my face but he knew. “You didn’t, did you?”

“No,” I whispered.  

“Mr. Weld,” Xana tried to intervene.

“Xana, this is a discussion between my and my son.”  

She stopped, and I didn’t blame her.  Anyone with a brain wouldn’t want to be under his scrutiny right now.  

“Nicholas Weld, what the fuck is a matter with you?  You would argue in favor of those fucking freaks? Those guys are a menace to society?  Do you know how much damage some of those aberrations have caused?”

“They aren’t all freaks,” I replied, trying to find my voice and my spine.  “Some of them are trying to help people.”

“I think we should talk about this later,” my mom tried to say.  

“No, we’ll talk about it now, Irene,” my dad insisted.  “You think some people are helping? Those fucking Reckoners?  Huh?”

“Yes,” I breathed.  

He leaned forward, “Louder, boy.”

“Yes!”  

My dad nodded, “There we go, talk like a man!”  Another bite of spaghetti and he set down his silverware, removing the only little distraction there had been.  “Now, maybe you want to explain to me how you think those monsters are doing a good job?”

Each little dehumanizing title for Adapted felt like a new slap in the face, ramping up the frustration and anger building in my chest.  “What about the people last night,” I shot back, flustered. “They got rid of a warehouse of Dart and nobody died!”

“And what happens next time?  Do the gangsters get bigger guns?  Does Beleth level a couple of buildings again?  The only names of these monsters I remember are the names that make the fucking news!  You know why they make the news, Nick?”

Hosjon’s class was playing trued, he only knew about the names because the one’s mentioned were criminals of the highest order.  I averted my gaze, “Because they cause problems.”

“Big fucking problems,” he spat.  “And when people make the news, information is broadcast!  And yeah, if your professor thinks that the Trillodan might be interested in these assholes and their weird powers, you’re damn right I want them gone.”  

Them.  An entity.  A mob. We weren’t individuals and I wasn’t even a person to him anymore.  “They are people,” I replied. “You can’t just condemn people for trying to do the right thing!”  

“Do the right thing?”  My father was incensed.  “They are fucking animals!  Those psychos make drugs, kill people, and rig some fucked up games.  They are such a cancer to society the goddamn government made a task force to get rid of ‘em!”  

I knew this was a bad day for my dad, and the fact he stopped eating meant he was still hungry.  A logical part of me knew that I should just shut up and keep my head down, let this boil over without slamming my head against his.

But, I couldn’t let it go.  I wasn’t going to kowtow because he was my dad.  “And what if the government is doing the wrong thing locking them up?”

Silence fell across the table.  “You think you know the right thing to do?  You tell me you think your teacher says they might attract the Trillodan and you don’t want the Adapted all dealt with?  A small fucking price to pay for us to be safe. We’ve already evacuated one planet, do we need to run away from another?”

I saw Xana shift uncomfortable in her seat; she knew how hard this was hitting me and wanted it to stop.  

“I…I think…” I stammered, my words catching in the back of my throat.  It felt like I was having an allergic reaction to something while the biggest headache ever matured.  My whole body paradoxically wanted this to stop and rage burning inside my chest demanded I push through.    

“Spit it out, boy!”

“If we turn on them, we let the Trillodan win!”

Even my mom flinched and looked away, afraid.  There was no taking back what I had just said, no matter how bad I wanted.  

Scarier still, my dad didn’t scream like I anticipated.  He laughed. A snide chuckle and a sly smile. “I see your angle.  You think that if we don’t defy them, we’re just letting them win. We need to always be fighting, is that it?”

“That isn’t what I-”

Now the screaming started.  “Do you remember seeing protocol 37 in action?  No? Oh right, you weren’t fucking alive to witness our sky being lit on fire!  You don’t remember the fucking panic as people saw the world dying?”

I did the smartest thing I could and stayed quiet.  

“Yeah, you fucking don’t.  So you’ll forgive me if I want to avoid that hell at all costs.  I watched our world end, Nick. I got to see the atmosphere turn red and feel the temperature increase by 35 degrees in the first 24 hours.  Your mother and I didn’t know if we’d get off world in time, and we were part of the lucky 20% who escaped with nothing! You can’t begin to conceptualize the terror we felt, can you?”

I shook my head.

He slammed his hand down on the table, “Of course you can’t, you’re a fucking ignorant kid.”  

Xana started to open her mouth, to protest.  I kicked her under the table again. It wasn’t that this wasn’t worth fighting but it wasn’t her fight.  

“So, come on, smart guy!  You had the debate today! What’s your fucking conclusion?  Why the fuck should you risk everyone’s hide on a handful of freaks?”

Anger had me shaking, violently.  I was angry at my dad for getting nasty, I was angry and my own idiocy for mentioning this, I was angry that Xana had to watch, I was angry that my mom hadn’t done more to stop this, and I was pissed at his old world mentality and how nothing could be good again.  

But most of all, I was angry because I couldn’t tell him what a massive cunt he was for calling me a freak.  

In a fit of rage, I opened my mouth to let out the most galling sentence I could think of.  I didn’t want to prove a point, I just wanted to hurt my dad.

“Because I’m not a coward.”

His eyes showed that he had caught my implication.  I should have regretted my choice, but I was too angry and blind to think about consequences.

A hand struck my face without warning.  My dad worked with his hands and was strong, his hands unyielding; the slap nearly threw me from my chair.  His second strike did.

“Call me a coward again!” he bellowed, “I fucking dare you, you little pissant!”

I got up to my feet and glared at my dad, teeth bared like an animal.  I thought of all that Murphy had taught me, all the ways to get past his guard, how to strike, where to hit…

Xana had the good sense to tug on my arm and speak up, not giving me the chance to fight back, to do something I might regret.  “We’re going. I think everyone needs to cool off.” It was more directed at my mom, letting her know.

I saw a silent exchange of ‘thank you’ and ‘of course’ as Xana herded me towards the door and my mom stood between us.  

“Nick, come on,” she insisted, “Let’s get out of here.”

A ball of rage and frustration, I peered into my storage.

Twenty-seven kilograms available for consumption.  

 

My dad wanted to call me a freak?  Time for him to see how big a freak I could really be.

      Previous chapter     Next chapter

9.20.2080

Grow, first layer only, no face.  Don’t tear anything.

Five months.  Five months since my life was turned upside down.  Five months since I learned I could grow these tendrils.  Five months of learning how to control and contain my gift.  Five months of training with Murphy on how to fight and move around with alien limbs.  

Five months, and we were finally ready to make our debut as Reckoners.  

I was just glad that it didn’t take Alexis five months to build me an active cloaking device that masked my horrifying appearance.  

While my contribution had been learning to control my gift–as my Adaptation was the newest and hardest to harness safely–the other two had been snooping around and looking into production of the newest drug craze: Dart.  Hyper-addictive, cheap, and all made by one cartel that operated within Ciel: Surface Dwellers. This was a bold move on our part, especially since it was going to be our first real appearance; Surface Dwellers was led by a man named Beleth, the only Adapted who didn’t wear a mask.  

The man was strong enough he broadcast his face to the public and cops were still scared approach him.  Rumor had it that Suppression had taken a shot at him and lost six agents in the process.

We’d all agreed that if we ran into Beleth, we were running.  

My muscle continued to grow across the top of my skin, weaving into that living mesh.  Grabbing a hoodie and pair of sweats, I covered the vast majority of the stuff. I willed the growth to dial back on my hands as I picked up a change of clothes and threw them into my backpack and headed towards the front door.

Of course, as I headed to the door, a bark stopped me.  

“What do you think you’re doing?”

I turned and looked at my dad who was lounging, watching TV.  Our home was a one-story flat with cement flooring and no yard to speak of.  It was basically an open space between the front door to the kitchen with the living room in-between.  Immediately as you walked in were the rooms that afforded little privacy thanks to the paper-thin walls.  

My father turned and glared at me, his face weathered with hands that matched.  His hair was slowly receding but the jet black color hadn’t greyed at all, which was astounding.  

“Heading out for a little bit,” I replied, “I’ll be home by midnight.”  

“You have class tomorrow,” he reminded, as if I had somehow forgotten.  

It took effort to not roll my eyes.  “Aware. The inquisition done now?”

“Where you heading?”

“Xana wanted to meet up,” I answered in half truth, “Some little place near the school makes drinks and she felt like getting one.”  

Mention of my girlfriend immediately changed his demeanor; while he was a pain in the ass, he was proud that his son was dating someone he liked.  There were so many ways he would be considered old-school but an aversion to cross-breeding fortunately didn’t make the list.

“Well, make sure she keeps you out of trouble,” he heckled.  

I did roll my eyes this time and gave him a weak laugh, “Alrighty, fine.  And yes,” I added as he tried to interject, “I will be home on time.”

With dead air between us, my dad turned back to the program he was watching and I opened the door, heading into the cool evening.  

Ciel was a cesspool, plain and simple.  The government was essentially driven and by a few tycoons of industry who hoarded resources.  They feared that growing technology might attract the Trillodan so any form of creative industry on Tso’got had suffered the tycoons exploiting their lofty position, all in the name of protecting the planet.  

As automation became more common place, the number of people out of work ballooned and homelessness continued to be an ever-growing problem.  However, people in their ivory towers refused to deal with the problem because they were unassailable. They just paid more for police to keep the riff-raff down to a minimum and ensure their industries were protected.  

The horrifying discrepancy in socioeconomic status was one of the huge factors for Dart’s rampant surge.  After all, dealing with this shit, everyone wanted a bit of a pick-me-up.

However, the gang wars that were happening over Dart outside of the Dweller’s turf was causing problems, especially between Imperium and the Surface Dwellers.  The chaos brought the antagonistic and opportunistic group, Vermin, out of the woodwork. They were an odd bunch who didn’t seem to have an agenda other than causing harm and spreading the madness.  Where there was conflict, they found a way to make an appearance and make things worse for all involved.

In an effort to stop these gang fights, we were going to raid one of the Dweller’s Dart storehouses and gimp their supply chain.

Our initial meeting spot was about ten blocks away where Xana was waiting with our ride.  Murphy and Alexis were there waiting by Xana’s car. We’d finally come to conclusions about our names in Reckoner character: Murphy was Parasite, Alexis was Dragoon, and I was Eldritch.  

“Come on,” Xana prompted, giddy, as she waved me forward.  

“And finally, the Druids outnumber the Cognate!”

While Adapted were few and far between overall, there had been categories made to help sort out how powers worked.  Far from a perfect system, it was more like a guideline to know how to label people.

Supposedly Suppression forces had made the listing as a way to know what sorts of threats an Adapted posed when they pursued them but that was just hearsay.  

Druids, the class Murphy and I fit under, were people who could manipulate organic matter or the life around them.  Alexis, a Cognate, had been given some kind of knowledge that was basically inexplicable. Cognates were weird ones too because some of the augmentations to how they thought became odd.  

Enhancers were people who had augmented physical attributes.  Conjurers literally made things out of thin air. Projectors generally dealt with projectiles and making temporary objects like fire or shooting ice from their fingertips. Travellers had some kind of ability to move around supernaturally.  And then there were Peculiars who didn’t quite fit into any category and had strange powers that seemed to warp reality a bit.

Many Adapted had a bit of a crossover between families.  Murphy would be considered a Druid-Traveller where I would be a Druid-Enhancer.  He was light on his feet and had a twenty foot vertical, I was strong enough to lift a car when grown enough.  Alexis fit neatly in one category since all her powers came from the machines she developed.

“Place is about ten minutes away,” Alexis said as she slid on her armored gloves.  Over the last few months she had been designing a combat suit to put her power to work; armor that repaired itself on the fly was valuable and the fact it made her hit three times harder than normal was nice too.  Her final design was a fairly form fitting layer of cobalt-colored metal that flexed easily as she moved around. Her helmet was a smooth sphere of the same cobalt material that was designed to give her a panoramic view like I had; adjusting to the different vision was a struggle for her and she had asked me for tips on staying focused.  The metal of her suit was denser on her forearms and shoulders, places she often found herself getting hit when sparring with Murphy. On the back of her wrist was a lazer gun as well as a small tube filled with a gel that would rapidly expand and solidify.

Designed as a countermeasure should I lose control.  

As complicated as her costume was, Murphy’s was much more straightforward: a red and grey swirl pattern on a mask that covered the upper half of his face while the rest of his body was covered in a loose tunic and trousers, both having the same color scheme as his mask.  In reality, they were made of synthetic spider silk that Alexis had managed to get us; while they would have been more effective being snug to his skin, Murphy insisted the suit he wore be loose so his passenger could slip around unfettered.

“Hey, you seem underdressed,” Alexis, now Dragoon, observed as she nodded to my face.  “Ought to at least grow a layer now.”

“I have most of one, just need a last bit for my base layer.”

Layer across the face, thin.  

Another morsel disappeared from my pile to accommodate.  

Zari held a low value of animal life, many of the younger adults actually making a sport hitting animals with cars.  While I abhorred the practice, it did provide me with a fairly steady supply of meat to consume.

Right now there was 66 kilograms ready to consume.  Over the last five months we had worked to see how much extra mass I grew: the answer was up to a 40 to 1 conversion rate, but that came with some drawbacks.  The more I forced out, the more desperate for additional material it was. My growths would rapidly cannibalize one another unless I continued to funnel them resources.  If I opted for a less efficient growth rate, they were less starved out the gate. I could make my stash keep me at the size of one tonne for about an hour before the growths ate each other.  

Plenty of time.  

“Dear God that is so weird to see,” Murphy cackled as a layer of tendril overtook my face and rendered my unrecognizable.  “Never gonna get used to it.”

“I’ll hold off on the rest because I don’t think Xana’s car would care for a one-tonne passenger.”  Even with just the little bit covering my face, a vocal distortion was in place, adding a strange warble to my voice.    

“Yeah, please no,” she said from the front, “Plus, I’d rather you not shred my upholstery.  Those things have a lot of teeth.”

“Mm, kinky,” Parasite teased; Dragoon reached over and hit him but it didn’t stop his manic giggling.  To her credit, Xana didn’t take the bait and just rolled her eyes.

“Can we be a little serious about this?” Dragoon implored.  “We are about to go raid a storehouse that belongs to the most dangerous cartel in the damn city.”

Parasite grinned and leaned back in his seat, “You worry too much.  It’s a warehouse and most of the Adapted enforcement has moved into Imperium turf to make sure their product isn’t seized.  Plus, we’ll scout it out with your drones and then know what we’re up against. If Goliath or another big hitter is there, we sick our massive monster on ‘em.  If it’s someone slower, I go dance around them. You’ve got crowd control down to an artform, so any extra hired hands aren’t gonna be a threat. Easy peasy.”

I often forgot that despite Murphy’s childish and immature demeanor, he was a clever bastard and a hell of a fighter.  I wasn’t sure how he learned to brawl so well, but even without his gift he was a handful.

Dragoon’s anxiety showed through as the pair continued to bicker. Xana was driving, enjoying the music blasting and I watched the world go by on all sides.  

Ciel was unpleasant to look at most of the time, not because it was dirty or stained, I could look past that pretty easily.  The issue was that so much looked the same. So many apartment buildings sandwiched next to each other. Townhouses sharing walls, like this weird mirror trick.  Only thing to tell places apart was the different pockets of homeless people. Twenty-seven percent unemployment and nine percent homeless. Times were tough for everyone.  

My dad had me listen to an old song from Earth: Little Boxes.  It was eerie how much the lyrics applied to Ciel.

Apartments faded into a more industrial side of things, but still that same layer of uniformity.  Big warehouses were all a similar model, even similar color. Smaller storehouses had a little more variety to them as we turned down a side street, but it was blending together for me.  Without Dragoon’s guidance system, I honestly don’t think I could have found the place.

The destination was a small rectangular building and likely 2000 square meters with no real distinguishing marks other than a half-assed coat of red paint.  

As Xana pulled over a block away, I removed the cloaking device from my pocket.  I activated it and the world took on a strange flicker for me as I was inside the distortion.  For everyone else, I just looked normal although my movements were a little bit out of sync. A hoodie, shoes, and sweats appeared from the illusion as I discarded them, not caring for my clothing to be a casualty.       

As we hopped out, Xana blew me a kiss and drove off, finding a spot to hide as our getaway driver.    

“Alright big guy,” she said, “Suit up.”

One tonne total.  Full coat.

Of my initial 66 kilos, 21 remained, 45 consumed to finish my foot-thick muscle suit.  Like the Neklim that attacked me months ago, I maintained a humanoid shape with a mass of growths like a peculiar ‘head’ that was entirely for looks.  At this weight I was just over eight feet tall and my hide was about a foot thick.

“You good under there?” Parasite asked as dragoon pulled a few orbs from her suit’s belt; she tossed them and they morphed into her little dragonfly probes.  With a pre-programed route, they flew around the building, finding a high window and slipping through a break in the pane of glass.

The building was roughly two stories tall, a metal framework holding the roof in place.  Down below, the probes scanned over a small assembly line where the green powder form of Dart was being cut and bagged up, ready for distribution.  

Dragoon’s display also highlighted where armed subjects were.  

Two at the front, behind the chained up, sliding, steel slab of a door that we were maybe 20 meters from.  Another quartet of armed gunman were at the back, hanging around some pallets and crates where, presumably, the stash of raw product was lingering.  Three humans and three Zari were working the line for packaging, all stripped down to ensure they weren’t skimming. Probably not willing to fight back in their underwear, but I hoped Dragoon didn’t overlook them.  

More concerning was a back room we couldn’t see into.  Thermals from the drone showed a pair of figures, but no other details.  From the size, they looked to be human.

“Maybe just managerial types, ensuring productivity,” Parasite suggested, hopeful.  

“Still a pair of unknowns,” I hissed.  

He shuddered, “Dude, it is fucking weird hearing you talk like that when I’m looking at regular you.”  

I ignored him, “Dragoon, you’re the boss, call it.”  

While initially a point of contention, we had to decide who called shots; we ended up electing Alexis because she was the most likely to keep us out of trouble.  Murphy would be prone to lead us into risky situations and if I lost my cool, I lost control. Dragoon might shy away from a fight, but she wasn’t likely to get us killed.

“I go to the back, wait for you to rip the doors off and make a lot of noise.  Once you do, I throw in a handful of flashbangs to cover my entry. I stun the gunmen and shepherd everyone into the corner.  Parasite goes for the two guys in the office and keeps them in a bottle. Questions?”

“Just tell us when,” Parasite said, an impish grin sneaking across his exposed mouth.  

Dragoon’s suit gave a slight hiss as she took off, running with augmented strides, carrying her around the corner quickly.  With a panoramic view, I was glad to see few people on the street, most people either home for the night or the few that were out clearly had somewhere to be.  

After all, who the fuck wanted to hang out around a bunch of warehouses?  

“Alright,” Dragoon’s voice came over the speaker she built into my cloaking device, “Let’s do it.  Make some noise big guy.”

I let go of the cloaking device and revealed my true self to the world, grateful there was no one to see.  Parasite took the orb from me and put it in a pouch under his costume before bowing and gesturing to the slab of metal in our path.  “After you.”

My right ‘hand’ hardened as I wound back and thrust.  Metal warped as it came off the slide. A second blow from my left hand smashed its twin in as I tromped forward, my weight tearing both doors entirely off the slide.  Everyone inside just stared at me, dumbstruck for a moment, unsure how to process it.

Then I roared.  

In a confined area, a 130 decibel roar was enough volume to induce a migraine nearly instantly.  The mostly empty space had nothing to absorb the sound, and the only people with hearing protection were Parasite and Dragoon.  Alexis had designed earplugs for the two of them that allowed sound to reach a 90 decibel threshold before cutting out other excess noise.    

While we trained, we’d contemplated my ability to make noise as an extra little bonus to my power.  People undervalued how jarring overwhelming noise could be. However, it did stress my body and made it feel like I was out of breath for several seconds afterward.  In our trials, we’d stress tested my growths and found that it actually started to harm my form, weakening the lattice work of muscle; the vibration and strain from the roar fatigued the growths on the outer layer and made them uncoordinated.  If I limited to roaring every now and again, there weren’t such ramifications.

As everyone was reeling from the sound, Parasite sprung forward, smacking the first gunman with a kick that sent him about ten paces back before leaping to the second.  The man tried to raise the assault rifle but was denied the chance. Parasite slapped it hard enough that it went flying and wound up his arm, hitting the Zari in the midsection so hard he doubled over and lost his dinner.  Still not done, he grabbed him by the collar and launched him towards the assembly line.

The men at the back tried to return fire, only for a dizzying shockwave and blinding flash to envelop them.  The door was thrown open and Dragoon sprinted in, hitting the one gunman who was still on his feet. As we discussed, Parasite vaulted across the room to the office while Dragoon tossed out her largest drone: a weird spider looking bot who’s whole purpose was to bind people with a plastic wire that could withstand crazy amounts of force.  

I lumbered towards the center of the room, letting my voice ring out for the terrified and mostly naked people on the line.  “Don’t fight and we won’t hurt you. Just let-”

Parasite cut me off by being launched across the room.  He flew nearly five meters and slid along the ground for at least that far again.  A bolt of lightning flew from the doorway and hit Dragoon’s gizmo, blasting it into smithereens.    

“Oh boy, you kids have stepped in it now,” a condescending voice called out.  The two unknowns stepped out and I felt my heart stop a moment. Matching tracksuit-looking costumes, one blue with a white lightning bolt in the center, the taller one with the inverse color scheme.  Both wore what looked like slimmed down motorbike helmets, the face plate with the same lightning bolt color scheme.

These two were Shock and Awe, Beleth’s lieutenants and enforcers.  The shorter one, Shock, shouted to the room, “Everyone, out!” People sprinted for the closest exit and Dragoon didn’t try to stop them; they were no longer the threat.    

All three of us had been nerds about this Adapted stuff, even before we changed; while we might have been in over our heads, we at least knew the mountain to climb.  Most Adapted who were in a big name gang for any amount of time were figured out, their powers posted on the internet for all to see. But, most of the people who lived that long were badass enough that knowledge didn’t give you enough edge.  

Shock and Awe worked in perfect tandem taking a front line and support role respectively.  Shock was a projector whose power was to collect energy he could output in the form of electric discharges which took on all sorts of shapes.  His twin brother, Awe, was an enhancer who was normally stronger and faster than the average human. However, when he was given a charge of electricity, it raised the ceiling on his strength and speed dramatically as well as granted a healing factor.  They worked as a great duo: Shock could remain a turret and a battery while Awe chased targets down and intercepted fire for him.

Parasite hopped up to his feet, his trademark smile wiped clean from his face.  “Eldritch, get Awe’s attention, we’ll handle Shock.”

As they stepped out into the room, none of us missed the bolt of blue electricity hitting Awe in the shoulder and arcing across his skin.  

“What the fuck, a Neklim?” Awe growled, his helmet turning towards me.  “Which do you want?”

“Give me the little two, you go for the big guy.”  

While I was glad they played into our plan, they’d survived fights with Imperium, Vermin, and the Yellow Maniacs–and the last was no longer a gang.  Their lack of concern was daunting.

Was this a fight we could win?

Taking the initiative, Awe charged, giving me little time to react and harden my exterior.  A gloved hand met my wall of muscle and drove me back. Before I could find my footing, he pressed forward, striking again and again rapidly.

In reply to his onslaught that pulverized my midsection, I threw an arm around like a big hook.  My lumbering swipe was easy for him to dodge; even before I could put my arm back to a neutral position, he kicked and made me stumble to the side.  Another swipe, another egregious miss. Skirting around my flank, he put a rapid quartet of punches into where my oblique looked like it ought to be.  Even with the hardened exterior to my tendrils, he was causing internal bleeding, demanding repair and taxing my reserves.

Still, there was one thing he couldn’t outrun.  

I roared again, doing my best to direct it like a cone at Awe.  While it didn’t hit him full on, it was clearly enough to daze and disorient, if only for an instant.  

One of Murphy’s lessons: do not let up if you’re winning, finish the fight.  

My arm flattened to widen out, maximizing surface area as I slapped and caught his arm.  Barbs dug in, tearing through his costume and finding purchase in the skin and muscle beneath.  Awe tried to rip his arm away and drag me with, but I was too heavy. In a sheer strength match, I had him beaten.

What I was not prepared for was him to deglove his upper arm without hesitation.  Stunned, I didn’t react to him stepping forward and driving his heel into where my pelvis was.  The force threw me back and into the table at the center of the room. Instead of chasing me, Awe ran back to the wall and leapt, springboarding off the wall to grab one of the iron beams.  He grabbed and flipped forward like a gymnast, before planting his feet and shooting himself back down at me like a missle.

His un-maimed arm drove through my forms head and – fortunately – not mine.  While the force toppled me, it also made Awe stop for a split second. My growths constricted around his forearm that had gone through me, though this time he was quick to rip free but not quick enough to get out of reach.  One of my limbs stretched towards him, grabbing and ankle and pulling him flat on the floor before he could speed away. He turned, getting to his side as I tightened my hold on his joint; twisting his body, he drove his other foot into my center of mass hard enough my real body felt the impact–and not in a subtle way.  

Still, I held the limb.  

Rolling over, I brought him along for the ride, slamming him against the ground.  I heard bones crack as I hadn’t thought to temper my strength.

A bolt of electricity hit the center of my limb and exploded, killing 25 kilograms of growth and recharging his brother as the electricity traveled the length of the tissues.  Another pair of bolts hit my shoulder and torso, killing 36 and 64 kilograms each respectively. Forced back, I moved to the table, grabbing it and hoisting it like a shield.

Parasite and Dragoon were not doing well against Shock.  The guy seemed to have charged the air around him, making attack nearly impossible for Parasite.  Even thrown objects seemed to build enough friction to create a static discharge, skewing their trajectory.  Dragoon was trying to pepper him with blasts from her lazer gun, but his armor seemed suited to taking those hits and didn’t have any more effect than a light punch would.  Still, whenever she tried to aim for his head and work for some meaningful damage, he could fire back with a much more impactful assault.

Parasite bounced around the walls, bolts of electricity hitting just behind him.  Dragoon had to drop and roll to avoid taking a blast from another bolt that lit up a beam along the wall.  She grabbed a pallet, and a bolt of lightning ripped it apart as she ducked into the office they had emerged from, another blast leaving a burn scar on the doorframe.  Just as quickly as he’d given attention to Dragoon, Shock rounded and unleashed a trio of bolts in rapid succession, one finally tagging Parasite and knocking him off the wall; my friend hit the floor in a heap, staggering forward but not fast enough to avoid another blast to his side that threw him against the wall.  

Dragoon popped up in the window and fired the adhesive in a little tube that expanded mid-flight.  As if he knew it was coming, the smaller twin rounded and put both hands together; a mesh of electricity shot forth and intercepted the wall of adhesive and erupted in a small blast, scattering the goo and leaving him unscathed.  Through the chaos, another streak of energy flashed and caught my armored friend, throwing her against the back wall of the office. While her suit seemed to keep her from getting electrocuted, the concussive hit seemed to have her down for a moment.     

While my right arm regrew, I gripped the table like a peculiar discus and let it fly at Shock, hoping a big enough object wouldn’t be moved by his static field enough to miss entirely.  Distracted by Parasite getting back up, the table clipped Shock in the shoulder, lifting him bodily and throwing him free of his cloud.

For me, there was no time to celebrate.  My let up on Awe had given him enough time to recover from what should have killed a person.  A kick my forms leg made me sink sink to a knee. I swung, but he wasn’t daring to get within my grasp again.  His arm was entirely mended and there wasn’t even any evidence of broken bones; he was a little slower, though he still had enough charge to be faster than a world-class sprinter.  But he wasn’t flanking this time. Instead, he sprinted back to the gun that Parasite knocked away. Picking up the firearm, he turned it on me.

Normally, Neklim were fairly resistant to bullets since they were entirely comprised of the growths; unlike most Neklim, I had a squishy middle that wouldn’t hold up.  I turtled up, pulling my arms in front of my torso to let them take the most of the abuse, keeping me safe.

Unfortunately, it tipped Awe off that I wasn’t a creation or a puppet but that I was vulnerable.  

“Shock, center of this one.  Blast it.”

Before I could turn around, a pair of bolts drilled me in the back, making me lurch forward as another 87 kilograms were cooked.  I forced more growth to cover myself, trying to keep a thick enough coat between me and the twins that I couldn’t have my real body damaged beyond repair.  

Of the initial 66, only 9 kilograms of meat were left in my reserve to build with.  

Another bolt ripped by me, aimed at Awe whose battery was reset, again.  He darted forward, kicking my knelt figure and throwing me onto my back. With his renewed inhuman speed, he zipped to my side and drove a foot down on my center; nowhere for momentum to transfer but into my human body, and I felt a pair of ribs break.  

I roared at him again, this one less directed.  Awe staggered back, and I could see Shock stumble a moment.  Keeping with his own teachings, Parasite leapt in and planted a cross into Shock’s midsection, sending him flying into a pile of pallets that broke under the impact.  Attention drawn away from me, Awe sped across the room; Parasite noticed to late, and couldn’t get enough vertical elevation to escape the enhancer.

A hand wrapped around my best friends ankle and whipped him back into the unyielding floor.  Stunned for a moment, Parasite was helpless to dodge as Awe kicked him in the ribs hard enough to throw him into the far wall, nearly 15 meters away.  

“Parasite!”  Dragoon ran back out the door, firing a pair of lasers that didn’t do more than mildly annoy the enhancer as they forced him to take a step back.  Another shot of the adhesive, but he was far too fast to get caught by that. The goo expanded and solidified on the floor as he sped forward.

I lumbered towards them, but not as fast as Awe could.  A big haymaker slammed into her faceplate hard enough to bend it.  She was thrown down and he stomped on her torso, cracking her armor.  

Murphy had taught us that as people got angry, their fine motor skills suffered.  Behavior became more animalistic, primal, aggressive. Awe fit that description, and his attack pattern was simple, theoretically easy to read.

The problem was he was going too fast for us to stop.

His foot came down again, but was stopped by a blinding flash of light; Dragoon had activated one of the flashbangs on her belt and he had been staring straight at her.  Even with the tint from his helmet, he staggered and held his hand up, trying to alleviate his seared retinas.

Dragoon remembered Murphy’s instruction too; as Awe stumbled blindly, she triggered another gizmo on her belt and tossed it towards him.  Her stun grenade triggered and distorted the air around it and dropped him to his knees.

I blindsided him and grabbed his midsection with both hands, running him into the door where Dragoon had entered, slamming him against the slab of steel.  He thrashed, punching and kicking, but without his momentum, he couldn’t do enough damage to really stop me. Slamming him again, I pressed my body forward, applying as much pressure as possible. Ribs cracked under my bulk as he struggled to breathe.  After I felt six ribs cave under my hands, I let him hit the floor. An arm hardened as I hit him with a 50kg appendage; his helmet didn’t do nearly enough to diminish the impact.

“Brother!” From the remains of the pallets, Shock was furious as he got up.  A pair of bolts hit Dragoon hard enough to throw her back several body lengths and a trio of blue-tinted arcs fried 113 kilograms of mass off.  

My reserves were now gone after having to heal from the slow damage of Awe and the charged onslaught of his sibling.  

In his hand, a little bolt of lighting collected from each finger tip and made an orb he threw at me, like a pitched baseball.  I tried to evade but it tracked me like a homing missile. Once it was close enough, it detonated and a pocket sized electrical storm expanded, shredding and frying 296 kilograms.  The abrupt shift in weight and muscle imbalance made me stagger, having to correct by balancing on one arm. A bolt tore through the center of my arm and had me drop forward.

Dragoon still hadn’t gotten up, and I was going to run out of mass in a matter of seconds; both Parasite and she had means to not being cooked immediately, but I wasn’t so lucky.  If he torched through the external layers, the real Nicholas Weld would die if a single one of those bolts tagged me.

Shock readied another one of those tempest orbs and had it discharge in his hand as something hit him in the head. The distraction made the orb dissipate as he stumbled.  

It had been a piece of wood, thrown with superhuman strength.  

Shock turned around, but not quick enough as Parasite closed the distance and kicked him just above the pelvis, upending him and having him faceplant hard enough to knock him cold, even with the helmet on.  

Parasite, for his dramatic entrance, wasn’t looking too good.  His costume had several holes burnt in it, his skin red and swollen underneath, and he was holding his right ribs, in extreme pain.  It was almost surreal seeing him without a smile; instead he had a deadly serious look that made him almost unrecognizable.

Staggering back up, I felt my growth beginning to eat itself, the metabolic demands I had given it too high for what little mass I had come with.  Dragoon was slowly getting to her feet, her suit working frantically to repair itself, but she was clearly rattled and banged up underneath. Her movements were unsteady, erratic, and made it seem like a strong breeze would have her fall back over.  

“How about we call this a draw, kids.”  Awe had gotten back up, torso seeming to not bother him at all.  More worrisome was the massive taser in his hands. “I can get a good last charge out of this, and we can see what happens, or we can all just walk away.”  No one spoke for a moment as he turned and evaluated the three of us, “You let me grab my brother, we all walk away.”

Dragoon straightened her posture, doing her best to look strong despite how feeble she must be feeling.  “We’re gonna burn your product.”

Awe cocked his head, “You all don’t look so hot, and he looks a lot smaller than when we started,” he said, nodding at me.  “You sure you want to risk another bout?”

“You might be able to kill us, but the big guy can take your brother’s head off before you get close.”  

Parasite looked at Dragoon, both of us caught off guard by her cold gambit.  Admittedly, I wasn’t sure I liked the idea of her bluff; we didn’t become Reckoners to be cold-blooded killers.  

“Fine,” Awe conceded.  “Step away from him, I toss you the taser.”  

“Count of three?”

He nodded.  

I felt an enormous wave of relief when both parties obliged.  

As Awe threw his brother over his shoulder, he gave us a nod.  “Next time, I won’t be an idiot and go for the big guy,” he warned.  “Who are you idiots anyways?”

Again, Parasite turned to face our leader, not wanting to speak for her.  This was something we hadn’t agreed on, but we couldn’t just not have an answer.  Every organization needed an identity, something people could call them.

“I’m Dragoon, he’s Parasite, and the big fucker is Eldritch.  We’re Rogue Sentries,” she finally said.

Awe chuckled, “Alright, Sentries, we’ll call it good for now.  But in the future, stay the fuck out of our way. If my brother and I run into you again, you won’t be walking away.”

I believed them too.  If Awe had opted to call Alexis’ bluff, I don’t think we could have stopped him.  Down nearly half of my mass, I don’t think I would have held up under his assault.  After the beatdown they had endured, Parasite and Dragoon definitely weren’t going to hold up.  

Like everyone else had earlier, Shock and Awe exited out the back.  A woman of her word, Dragoon turned her lazer on the boxes of Dart and set them aflame, the stimulant burning to nothing in seconds.  

“Cloak me,” I said to Parasite.  He nodded and fished the orb out of his pouch.  It took a minute to finish repairing itself from when he was thrashed against the wall and then the hologram flickered to life.  

Disperse.

The rest of the growths turned to dust and fell to the floor like a pile of ash as the hologram took over, hiding my nude form beneath.  Parasite yanked the mask off and wrapped his costume into a ball, his shirt underneath looking worse for wear. “I have a coat in Xana’s car, that should hide me well enough.”  

“Good,” Dragoon muttered as she lead the way out.  Using her own cloaking device, she put on the appearance of herself in jeans and a plain red red shirt.  “Xana, come pick us up. There shouldn’t be anyone else here.”

We didn’t have to wait much longer for her to pull up.  We piled into her roomy SUV and all let out a collective groan of fatigue.  I grabbed my pants and slid them back on, letting the hologram drop.

Another upside of my power was that it functioned as a healing factor while engaged.  For the Neklim I turned into, I became the hive mind and primary vector; the entire entity worked to alleviate injury since all the growths were networked in with my actual body.  

Even so, there was some bruising on my midsection that my growths hadn’t managed to heal.  As Alexis discarded her armor, she had a black eye and lifted her shirt to check a hand sized bruise from where she’d been kicked.  

Murphy had taken the biggest beating of us all though.  Four spots on his torso were burnt from Shock, he had a clear shoe print on his stomach, and his back was mottled with bruises at irregular intervals.  Still, my tan friend seemed ecstatic as he messed up his medium-length brown hair. “Holy shit!” It was refreshing to see his usual immature grin back in place.  

“We’re alive,” I said with a weak laugh as Xana pulled over and turned to face us in the back.  

“Someone gonna fucking tell me what happened?”

Alexis turned to face her, “Shock and Awe were there.”  

Xana’s eyes went wide as dinner plates; she had gotten very into this stuff since she was now dating an Adapted and had learned two friends were as well.  “And…you’re all alive.”

“We called it a draw,” I supplied.  “Awe left on his feet, and I don’t know if we could have fought him with another charge up.  We’re all pretty spent. In my case, literally.”

Murphy gave me a glance as he checked his limbs for extra damage, “You were out?”

“Out.  Shock shredded my growth.  If we fight them again, they will change tactics.  We only made it out of this because Awe wanted to show off, not realizing how bad he matched up against me.”  

Even Murphy sobered up a bit at the thought, but it was true.  They were experts and their carelessness still only gave us a draw.  We had a long ways to go, figuring out how to fit into this arena.

“But we have a name now,” Murphy announced happily.  

“Oh?”  Xana returned his ecstatic smile.

“Stampede,” Alexis announced.  “I hope you like it, it was hard to think of something appropriate.  But, I figure a lot of our strategy is going to involve overwhelming people.”

“And Nick is basically a wild animal,” Murphy observed.  

“Eat a dick,” I said with a chuckle.  

“Maybe I will,” he replied with a faux-competitive expression.  

I laughed at his scrunched up face and laid back against the leather upholstery.  “No one told me it’d be this draining being a Reckoner,” I groaned. “I feel like I’ve just gone running for a day.”  

“Getting hit takes it out of you,” Murphy noted as he stretched his arm out.  I could see the bump of his organism moving under his skin, helping to repair the internal bleeding and circulate blood to alleviate the bruising.  

“Do you feel that thing,” I asked bluntly, “Like, I can see it moving.  Do you feel it just slipping around your insides?”

He glanced at his arm like I wasn’t making sense.  “I mean, I guess? Gotta remember, it’s been a part of my physiology for two years now; I’m just accustomed to it hanging around.”  

Alexis smirked, “You do realize your name is ironic for your power, right?”

“Maybe he named himself that because the rest of his IS a parasite,” Xana offered.  

The entire car erupted in laugher; Alexis and Murphy curled in pain from trying to laugh.  “Oh God, stop with the humor,” Alexis pleaded, “This shit hurts.”

“Well, if I can’t have a laugh at your expense,” Xana thought aloud, “Then I think victory dinner is in order!”

The members of Stampede gave a cheer as she climbed back into the driver seat.  

“Hey guys,” I said as we rode on by the slough of nearly identical warehouses, “We’re fucking Reckoners.”  

“Not just Reckoners,” Murphy added, “We’re the Rogue Sentries.  And this isn’t the last time people will be hearing about us.”  

Alexis turned to face the two of us in the backseat, a fire in her eyes, “You’re damn right it isn’t.  We’ve got a name to make for ourselves.”

Previous chapter      Next chapter

(4/34/2080)

    “Come on, keep up!”

    I huffed as I slipped on the loose hillside as Xana charged ahead of me.  “I’m trying!” It came out as more of an exasperated pant as I felt my lungs burn trying to keep up with the Zari girl who was easily outrunning me.  

    When she looked over her shoulder at me and grinned mischievously, I knew she was enjoying herself far too much.  “You’re human, you’ve gotta get stronger so you can keep up!”

     “I’ll get…right…on that,” I wheezed, silently thanking the heavens that the majority of our ascent was done. I raised a hand and had to stop to catch my breath, my overeager attempts to keep up with my stronger alien girlfriend a decided mistake.  Dirt crunched under her feet as my grey-toned companion came back for me, skin glistening with sweat.  Xana waited patiently as I finally caught my breath.

    “Humans are supposed to be all dangerous and scary,” she teased, “You guys even pissed off the Trillodan, but you can’t climb a hill?”

    “Shut up,” I shot back, sharply catching my breath.  Behind us loomed Ciel, the capital city of Tso’got, a bastion of industry and suffering I called my home. Some people said it felt like cities on Earth used to, but I would never know.  

    “Not enjoying the view?”  Her question snapped me back to reality and reminded me to take another deep lungful of air.

“Occasionally I think about the fact that I’m alien to this planet and also native.  It’s…weird,” I confessed.

A strong arm wrapped around my shoulder as she gave me an embrace that bordered on being too tight.  “You worry too much! Tso’got is your home, so what?”

I frowned, “Less than 25 years ago, Zari and human hardly had reason to interact.  Now tons of us are stuck here and people hate us.”

She flashed an unrepentant smile to me, “But if you didn’t end up here, how else would I be able to have a deviant relationship with an alien boy-toy?”

My eyes rolled, “Do you ever stop being so optimistic?”

“Never!  Now keep up!”  She turned and pushed forward, dragging me further away from Ciel and into the hilly and tree-spotted surroundings.  Another kilometer and I had to stop, my legs pleading for rest.

    I turned and appreciated the rest of what we could see.  Several kilometers away from the fringes of the city, the buildings were replaced by groves and fields.  Some of the more immediate area around the city didn’t have any grass growing, more like a desert with aberrant groves; still, a welcome change from the dreary cement and cold steel structures of Ciel.

The further away you got, the more plant life and vegetation thrived, as if there was a no-man’s-land between the city and the vegetation, warring factions that couldn’t co-exist.  A glance at Xana showed her drinking it in the same way I did; she reveled being outdoors, a place where it felt like you could properly breathe. For me, it was more than just lack of pollution: not being nagged by my dad, not dealing with neighborhood assholes who took every opportunity to remind me Zari were bigger and stronger, and away teachers who graded unfairly because I wasn’t the same.  

Right now, my girlfriend was happy and that made it easy for me to be happy.

“According to people who lived on Earth, a lot of the trees around Ciel look like Sycamores,” I announced.  

“For us, we know them as Vinnel trees.  I wonder if they were ever translated into universal common if they were the same.”  

I shrugged, “I only know English because of my parents insisting I learn.  It seems kind of silly to learn a language so few people speak anymore.”  It took effort to hide a grimace; language was a point of contention between my father and I since the schools taught universal common.  He demanded I learn English as well and that be the only language spoken at home.

Xana frowned, “You guys aren’t going extinct or anything.  You should keep your culture. I mean, there are plenty of blank rocks that could be terraformed in the future.  Plus, no offense to you guys, but I know Tso’got would love to get rid of the humans. I disagree, but I think I might be a little biased.”  

“Dare say you might be a lot biased,” I teased, giving a wink.  

“I said what I said,” she insisted with a smirk.  I threw a light punch at her shoulder and she blocked it, shoving me in retaliation hard enough I had to take a step back to stay upright.  

Zari, the native inhabitants, looked like humans for the most part, but with a few differences.  There was a lot less color range in skin: where humans had all sort of pigment disparities, Zari were a more homogenous grey tone with a minute differences in saturation.  Zari, in general though, were taller and denser than humans could hope to be. Xana was a bit above average height for a female Zari but would have been considered giant for a human at 6’2”.  Her frame was broader than mine and she weighed 90 kilograms to my measly 75.

It was speculated that crossbreeding–the local slang for relationship between Human and Zari–came about due to our physiological similarities and concepts of beauty being nearly perfectly aligned.  I was grateful my parents didn’t disapprove of Xana, it was one of the few places my dad and I didn’t butt heads.

“Come on, we’ve got all day to enjoy!  Fuck Ciel for the day,” she demanded jovially as she turned and kept pressing forward, into the wilderness.  

“Like, literally?”

“You are insufferable,” she called back, “But come on!  Don’t keep a lady waiting!”

I smiled, feeding off her infectious glee and ran to catch up.  

We pressed forward a few more kilometers to ensure that Ciel was something well in the backdrop, only visible from the tops of hills, or from trees Xana would climb as a way to gauge our location.  

“Well,” I proclaimed awkwardly as we took shelter in the shade of a Vinnel grove on the top of a hill, “We’re all alone now.”  

No pressure and I couldn’t even pretend to be a smooth talker.  

Xana didn’t miss my stumbling and snickered, “Nick, come on man, you are the worst at this.”

My cheeks flushed, “Shut up.”

    A strong hand hit my shoulder as she laughed, “We’re nearly eight kilometers from any judgmental eyes…and you still suck.  Hopeless!”

I moved to hit back but heard something like a small rockslide.  Looking left, I spotted a neighboring hill with some loose dirt still rolling down the side, like something had disturbed it and slid down the side to hide.  

But an exploratory hand from Xana told me she hadn’t heard.  

I raised a hand and pointed at the hill and scrunched up my face thinking about the valley between the two I couldn’t see.  “Something else is out here,” I cautioned, knowing full-well I sounded paranoid.

Xana’s hand slid under my shirt, “Afraid of someone finding us?”

My breath caught in my throat at the surge of testosterone but my apprehension and anxiety helped dampened the usual urges of a seventeen year old male.  “No seriously, something’s over there, just down that hill.”

In a peculiar role reversal, Xana was hell bent on getting me out of my clothes, caring little for my risk assessment.  “We’re out in the middle of nowhere, it’s probably just a liq running around. Leave it, we have better things to be doing.”  Despite my protest she fished my shirt off and kissed the side of my neck, insistent.

Rational thought and logic were replaced quickly by testosterone, adrenaline, and the promise of sex.  I worked to undo her shirts buttons and ran my hands along her sides…

And stopped abruptly as a quick stomping disturbed the tranquil grove.  Something was charging up the hill towards us. This time, Xana heard as well and leapt to her feet.  

“Holy shit, NEKLIM!”

The apex predator on Tso’got, a beast only fools went hunting, a monster almost none survived an encounter with.  

Neklim were an odd looking species, their entire body comprised of tendrils of dark muscle tissue that were woven in with one another like a mesh.  Each tendril was roughly 15cm long, but each Neklim was comprised of thousands; layers and layers of the muscular lattice made the things durable and incredibly strong.  The growths that comprised the lifeform were each technically their own organism, each providing information to a collective intelligence that steered the greater system.  

As it approached, it roared an unearthly cry that made my ears ring and vision rattle.  My mind went completely blank as I panicked; I’d never been faced with sure death before, never experienced life and death terror.  

The one charging after us was smaller and younger, only standing about six and a half feet tall.  It had a vaguely humanoid shape, with almost trunk like configurations for legs with tendrils at the bottom biting into the ground to make each stride carry the beast oddly fast.  Its arms were unrefined: instead of a hand with particular digits, there was just a flat slab of flesh like the blade of an oar. Where one would expect a head, there was just a mass of tendril wound together like a snake.  

As it crested the hill and bored down on me, there was no slideshow of my life’s events.  Instead, only a horrifying calm tainted with unyielding panic as my heart hammered in my chest and my muscles refused to do anything.  For a moment, I felt my worries wash away as the monster charged forward, ready to rip me limb from limb. It was okay…this was okay…

Fortunately, Xana was much more level headed and reluctant to go into that goodnight.  Her strong hands grabbed me under the shoulder and heaved me to my feet, the forced movement snapping me somewhat from my horrific calm.  She tried to drag me with her, her longer legs setting a pace faster than I could hope to match. I discerned her intention though; she wanted to run along the edge of the hill and hope the loosely packed dirt would give way under the Neklim’s bulk, sending it careening down the steep hillside.  

Her plan didn’t account for me being slow or for my body to still be reluctant to move.  

One of its massive arms raised and swiped; Xana pushed me backwards and drove her heel down into the ground, throwing herself away from the monster.  

Her shove did make the Neklim’s swipe miss and kept me free from the grip of its barbed tentacles, but I wasn’t ready for the ground to slip away beneath my feet.  A foot shot out from under me and I reached for the distant Xana frantically; momentum carried me, the steep hillside taking me for a ride that I was powerless to stop.  

A dip in the hillside tossed me in the air as I rolled into it; my body cartwheeled and came to an abrupt stop on a mass of tree roots, my leg snapping down like the end of a whip as I stopped.  Fighting back up, my left leg buckled under any weight, the joint shattered from the impact.

Up on the hillside, the Neklim took a moment debating which prey to chase: I was wounded and a shoe in for a meal but Xana would be a heartier dish.  

The monster opted for the easier course and started a controlled glide down the hill.  

What made them the apex predator of the planet was their unpredictability and intelligence.  It wasn’t just some mindless animal as evidenced by it taking its time, enjoying the hunt as I struggled to run.  I was glad that it was a younger Neklim and likely hadn’t developed any kind of biological mutation yet, like acidic secretions or some kind of paralytic toxin; I’d only be dinner, not a plaything for too long.      

“Gotta move, gotta run, don’t wanna be food,” I told myself, trying to stifle that sense of impending demise that had lulled me into an unnatural calm moments ago.  Struggling around the side of grove I’d landed in, I looked for anything that I could use as a weapon. A big enough rock, a snapped off stick, something.  All I was given was a dead liq–a creature that resembled a deer from Earth–at the base of a tree, half eaten.

I turned to try and drag myself to the next cluster of trees, but something stopped me.  Like I was a puppet on strings, I was drawn to the dead animal, compelled to put my hands on the decaying tissue.  The Neklim was still lollygagging, savoring the chase, glancing between the trees like some sick game of peek-a-boo.  

With nothing to lose, I followed my peculiar urge and placed my palms against the flank.     

Sixty-four kilograms of meat.  

“What?” I whispered aloud, confused.  Who had said that? What did that even mean?

I looked back down at the liq and saw the tissue desiccating, deteriorating rapidly.  “What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck,” I panted as I watched the meat seem to fade into non-existence rapidly; only bones remained, and not a morsel was left on them.

Another roar of the Neklim drew my attention away from the remaining skeleton and instead to my impending doom.  Vainly, I raised my hands, a desperate attempt to shield myself from the oncoming onslaught.

For a split second, reality seemed to break around me.  The world seemed to slow, my brain drawing information about my surroundings at a mile a second, making interpretations about the trees, the ground, and the dead animal beside me that far exceeded anything I knew.  But then, thoughts quickly flew over the Neklim that was bearing down on me, and something seemed to fixate. I wasn’t in control of my mind, something or someone else was piloting as what felt like a scanner surveyed the makeup of the predator.  

In an instant I was immediately aware of its biology, how its neural circuitry worked, how the random mutations functioned, and exactly what was needed to replicate the construction.  

Replicate construction?

My peripheral vision honed in on my outstretched arms, aware of my skin taking on a new life of its own, wriggling as black tendrils burst forth and wove together in a mesh, coating my arms, my torso, my everything in a blink.  In a panic, I tried to scream, but all that my body emitted was one of those unearthly roars that had stunned me earlier. I felt my pants shred as layers of growth sprung forth, lifting me from a crouched position to a standing one, ready to answer the aggression of this impudent Neklim.  

It seemed just as confused as I was as it hesitated a moment, perplexed by the rapid growth of its previously helpless prey.  

Still my growth continued, and the predator took a swing at me, one easy to parry; even as I redirected, my own growths flared their barbs out and hooked into its flesh, holding the arm outstretched.  A loud ripping and squelching sound rang out as my own limb yanked away, tearing the Neklim’s appendage in half. Additional information had been drawn from the physical contact and changed my own growth patterns.  My limbs continued to enlarge, mirroring his structure but with refinement: my weave of growths tighter, more dense. The predator-turned-prey stumbled backwards, and instinct demanded I kill. Stomping forward like a drunkard, unwieldy on foreign legs, I plunged my arms forward and pierced into the Neklim’s chest with tendrils that altered rapidly, growing a harder edge.  

I roared again and ripped my arms to the side, rending the beasts midsection asunder.  Bits of gore and carnage hit the ground as I dropped onto the body, using my new claws to shred the remaining chunks of Neklim that insisted on struggling and trying to reform.  As it died, I was prompted with another alien thought:

Three hundred and seventy-five kilograms of meat.  

“Nick?”

I didn’t turn, I realized, there was no need.  I could see her, but she was off to my left, well past 180 degrees to my left.  It was dizzying that I could see her and see behind me as well. Each tentacle was feeding me information, including how this Neklim tasted…which was decidedly unpleasant.    

How was I supposed to communicate?  I didn’t have a mouth.

Prey.  Food. Meat.

My body turned, involuntarily, my legs lifting and awkwardly stumbling forward.  

Within the confines of my muscle-bound prison I screamed one thought:

NO!            

I stopped moving.  My reforged body seemed at odds with my command but it obeyed, though not without complaint.  I could feel it tugging, trying to compel me forward where a fresh supply of protein lay.

Not her, we don’t harm her.   

Cautiously, Xana approached me, keeping about 10 meters between us, “Nick, is that you?”

Vocal chords were non-existent, but I had been able to roar, to make sound.  I willed my body to force the sound out as I tried to speak. “’m…n…ths thng.”  It was strangled, choked out, hardly intelligible but she understood.

“Nick, you’ve Adapted, and I am super excited about this,” my girlfriend said slowly, failing to fight back a smile, “But we’ve gotta get you out of that, okay?  I don’t know what will happen if I get close to you.”

Still grappling with the mass of tissue I was within, I honed in on her words, letting her be my anchor to reality.  I could trust Xana, she wouldn’t lead me astray. “How…do I stop?” The speech was less mangled, my body finding the action easier a second time ‘round.  

“It’s your body, right?  Tell it to stop growing.”  

Concentrating, I projected a message to the growths on my skin:

Stop.

Initially nothing seemed to happen, but slowly the most external tendrils began to wither, desiccate, and fragment into a dust-like waste.  All it took was a few minutes and I found myself human again, feeling much shorter and very naked.

And all at once the adrenaline stopped flowing; I remembered I needed to breathe and was slammed with an ignored torrent of emotions.  

I dropped to my hands and knees, my whole body shaking violently as I sucked in tenuous gasps of air; my lungs seemed unable to hold anything, demanding more as tears and snot streamed down my face.  

Once Xana was sure I wasn’t a danger, she rushed over and dropped beside me, “Holy shit, Nick, you’re an Adapted!  I’m dating a fucking Adapted,” she screamed, giddy to the wilderness.

Despite having just grown hundreds of kilograms of an alien species from my skin, the words seemed unbelievable.  “Me?”

“Yes,” she teased, “You just turned into a fucking Neklim, in like, ten seconds.  You were nearly eight feet tall! God, you must have weighed like five hundred kilos or something!  You were immense!”

“Nine-hundred kilograms,” I corrected, unsure how I knew.  “My tissues were much denser. It’s why I could rip him apart; I was just stronger than he was.”  

She leaned away a little, wary, “Whoa.  How do you know that?”

“I, um, I don’t know.  I just, kinda, knew. There is a liq skeleton over there, it had meat on it, and when I touched it, I implicitly knew how much meat was on the bones.”  

Xana looked over my shoulder, “The meat’s gone now.”  A glance at me, “Nothing comes from nothing, right? So, maybe, you can convert biological material?”

“Meat, specifically.  Animal protein and fat, not sugar.”  How the fuck did I know this? Everything was happening so fast, knowledge I couldn’t explain, transformation I didn’t control, murderous intent I didn’t ask for, and a near death experience all in the last five minutes.  

I felt like my brain was going to erupt.  Was this how all Adapted felt when they changed?  

“Hey, we’re gonna have to get you some pants,” Xana laughed, injecting some humor into this impossible situation.  “Can’t be bringing home the newest Adapted nude!”

It was starting to sink in: I was an Adapted.  

My gaze lingered on my hands as I started to reign in my breathing; I was one of those humans, that sect of people who were such a hot button issue right now.  How could they not be? People with superpowers were bound to be a problem.

“Hey, sweetie, talk to me,” Xana encouraged, “Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”  

With some effort, I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat.  “I can’t be adapted, my dad hates them. He says they are all a bunch of scoundrels.”

She frowned, “Your dad is an ass who doesn’t believe people should be more than cogs in the existing machine.  Are you a scoundrel?”

“No.”

“Then screw what your dad says!”  She put a hand to my cheek, “You saved my life.  Hour one as an Adapted and you’ve already got a pretty swell act of heroism under your belt.  Maybe, just maybe, you’ll make a pretty good Reckoner!”

Reckoners, Adapted vigilantes who took to fighting against crime like old school comic book heroes.    

“Could I really be a Reckoner if my power is to turn into a flesh eating monster?”  I turned to Xana, wiping my face of the last of the tears and snot that had leaked.

“Bah, appearances!  So what if you look like a monster?  Action is what counts!”

Her relentless optimism brought a smile to my face.  “I think you might be right about pants,” I admitted finally.  “And I think my phone was destroyed when I changed,” I admitted as I noticed a shiny bit of debris mixed in with the shredded fabric.

“I’ll give Alexis a call and we’ll have her pick us up.”  

Alexis, a friend of mine since I was a kid, another human refugee on a foreign world.  “What if she thinks I’m a freak?”

Xana laughed, “Oh please, you and her have been geeking out about Adapted ever since they started to be a thing.  At worst she’s a bit jealous you were one of those who actually changed.”

It was hard to remain anxious with Xana nearby as she helped me to my feet and patted me down, getting the dust off my naked form as we went back up the hill to get my shirt.  Oddly enough, my ankle had stopped hurting.

Had the growths fixed it?  

Putting a shirt on felt nice, but it was still awkward walking back without pants on, my junk floating in the breeze.  While freeing, it became clear to me that nudism definitely wasn’t a preferred choice.

On the way back, Xana was teeming with questions that could not wait for me to settle down even a little.  

“What did it feel like?”

“Did you feel anything change when you actually Adapted?”

“Did you taste the liq you ate?”

“How did you talk?”

“Did you eat the Neklim that you killed?”

As I became overwhelmed with the barraged with questions, I finally told her to stop and had to rub my temples.  Closing my eyes, all her questions mulling around in my mind, I saw something…different.

It was like a room, one completely cut off from reality, one I knew implicitly only I could see.  The room was like a void, the edges not having walls but instead it just faded to black, similar to how firelight faded at a campsite.  The only contents of the room was a pile of meat and animal parts, ready for disposal.

 

Two-hundred and twenty-six kilograms of meat ready to consume.

I opened my eyes and the vision was gone.  Xana hadn’t noticed, and I was just as glad.  This was all so confusing, and something I would need to figure out for myself.  

A vehicle approaching made me anxious, but I was relieved when I saw the occupants: Murphy and Alexis, my two best friends in existence.

Murphy was the epitome of the word imp: he was immature all the time, found an excuse to laugh at everything, and always had you wondering if he was up to no good.  He was about my height but with longer arms and a better tan and brown hair that rested on the nape of his neck.  Baggy clothing constantly hid his physique, but I knew the guy was oddly muscular.

Alexis was the nerd of our group who was far too critical of herself.  No matter how many times Murphy and I would tell her she looked fantastic, she didn’t believe us.  And we weren’t blowing smoke either, for most she’d be the ideal nerd-girl dream.  Long red hair, fair olive complexion, glasses, and soft hazel eyes.  Thanks to her self-esteem issues, she ran constantly and it had paid dividends for her physique.

And of course, Murphy was first to open his mouth, “Why the fuck don’t you have pants?”  He hopped out of the vehicle and landed gracefully, a folded bit of fabric under his arm.  Throwing it my way, I was so glad to be able to slip on a pair of pants. A little tight, but much better than being free in the breeze.  “Seriously though, what the hell happened to your pants? Why did Alexis and I have to roll outside the city to run you trousers?” He glanced at Xana, a childish grin covering his face, “Dear god, you didn’t shred his pants in a lustful frenzy, did you?”

Alexis shoved Murphy and gave him a glare, “Shut up, you idiot.”  Turning to face us, “But seriously, you were super cryptic, Xana, what happened?”

She looked at me, asking permission to tell.  I shook my head; it was my Adaptation, I should own it and be willing to say.  “We were attacked by a Neklim, literally caught us with our pants down,” I began.  

Both my friends took on a more serious expression.  

“I slipped, fell down the side of a hill and smashed my ankle against a tree root.  It was broken so I couldn’t put weight on it, couldn’t run away.”

“And you aren’t dead…why?”  He seemed oddly, expectant with that question, like he knew the answer already.  Like a kid who knew what gift he was getting.

“If you shut up for five seconds, Murphy,” Alexis grumbled, “Maybe he’d tell us.”

I looked at my hand, closing my eyes a second.  That room sprang to mind, the mound of meat still there, still fresh, still accessible.  Reaching forward, I made a simple command to whatever entity had given me this ability:

Cover my left hand.  

I felt a single kilogram of meat disperse and the transformation started, though the growth covered my hand, and my forearm as well.  Tendrils sprouted and wove together, a wall of onyx tint muscle that tugged at my mind, wanting to consume more.

Alexis and Murphy both dropped their jaw.  For a split second, no one said anything.

Finally, Murphy broke the silence.  “I guess like attracts like.”

“What are you–” I started.

“Just, show him Murphy.”  

He nodded to Alexis before turning and crouching, his legs inflating like there was excess muscle rapidly filling his calves before launching himself twenty feet into a tree.  He grabbed the branch and killed his momentum instantly, his arm bunching up with the muscle this time. Dangling from one hand, he just smiled.

“You’re–”

“Both of us,” Alexis corrected.  She reached into the car and withdrew a little jar that she tossed; midair it changed into a mechanical dragonfly and began to hover.  “It is a surveillance drone, but mine can do this.” As if on cue, Murphy launched himself over and smacked her drone against the ground where it shattered.  Without any delay, the largest remainder of the drone dragged itself around and began reconstituting itself with the chunks that still worked, and then began to essentially melt down and recreate the broken parts as able. When it needed more, it took a small bite from the vehicle Alexis and Murphy came in.

“It repairs itself…even from scratch.”  

“Genesis mechanisms,” she said proudly, blushing a little.  “I’m a cognate, he’s an enhancer.”

“Druid, technically,” Murphy revised.    

“And you guys never told me,” I shouted, angry and glad simultaneously.  “You didn’t trust me with this?”

Murphy threw himself onto the hood, balancing on one over-muscled hand, clearly showing off.  “Mate, being Adapted is borderline illegal, even if you’re a good guy. Snatchers, Suppression, way too many people crazy about people with powers.  We didn’t tell you–”

“Because we didn’t want to get you involved,” Alexis finished.

I was still trying to process this; we’d all been huge proponents of the Adapted and they were both changed…and neither had told me?  “When did you guys change?”

“A year ago,” Alexis confessed, “About the time I started getting very clever with machines.  It all just…started making sense so I started tinkering.”

I glared at my clown of a friend who was still doing a one-armed handstand.  “You?”

“About six months before her,” he replied, “Wasn’t sure how to tell you that I had a weird organism living inside my body.  Not exactly your normal thing to talk about. But now that you’re Adapted, we’re all in the same boat!” Murphy sprung off the hood with the one hand and landed next to me, throwing an arm around my shoulder, “I mean, of course my boy is an Adapted!  Best.  Day. Ever!”

There were millions of questions I felt I needed to ask.  What they had done as Adapted, what the hell was inside Murphy, how Alexis brain worked, but one thing nagged at me above the rest.  “So, what now?”

Xana had been quiet but felt it time to speak up.  “That part’s obvious.”

“It is?”

She grinned, “Yeah, you all be a badass team of Reckoners.”  

Something about that statement seemed so definite, so final, like Xana wasn’t giving us a choice.  And, in that moment, nothing had ever made so much sense. It was purpose, meaning, and a reason for me to have this mind boggling ability.  

“Fuck yeah,” Murphy replied.

“I’m in,” Alexis echoed.

I took a second to catch my breath.  My world had been turned upside down in two hours.  From normal kid to Adapted and student to Reckoner, it was a lot to take in.  

All that same, I couldn’t contain my enthusiasm.  “Let’s fucking do it.”

      

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