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Authors: K.M. Johnson-Weider

West Pacific Supers: Rising Tide (43 page)

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“Must be multi-use
zoning,” Seawolf commented, as Paul turned onto the poorly lit street. They had
already passed a couple office buildings, a factory of some sort, a line of
darkened stores, several lots with partially finished construction projects,
and an assortment of mismatched residential structures, many of which were for
sale. Paul drove slowly until they found 8643 Coastline Drive, a blocky 3-story
building facing the ocean that looked like it had been designed in the ‘70s.

“That looks like a
classic New Tomorrow Program design!” Paul exclaimed as he parked the car across
the street from the house.

“It looks ugly as
hell to me,” Seawolf said dryly.

“No doubt designed
by an architect who was traumatized by the Vanghel invasion,” Paul joked. He
had definitely been in higher spirits since their elevator exchange.

Seawolf scowled. She
was feeling increasingly nervous. If Starfish had gone off the deep end, she
was putting both herself and Paul in danger. Of course, Paul wasn’t a regular
civilian - she had noticed that he was carrying a handgun - but he was no match
for a potentially deranged super. She wondered again whether she should let
someone know where they were. Then again, knowing her luck, Annie would send
Camille as backup. Seawolf rolled her eyes. That was last thing she needed
right now.

They crossed the
street together and approached the dark building warily. There were no windows
on the first floor and she was considering whether they should take a look
around the grounds first when a proximity sensor triggered and a spotlight
blazed down on them. “So much for stealth,” she muttered as they headed for the
front door. It was made of reinforced steel, not the sort you’d normally see on
a residential property. As she started to reach for the doorbell, they heard
the clicking sound of deadbolts turning. The door swung open and Starfish was
there, smiling at them.

“Seawolf and
Executive Petty Officer Rutledge!” he exclaimed. “What a pleasant surprise!
Lovely night, isn’t it? Do come in.”

Seawolf did not want
to go in. Going in was a bad idea, coming here had been a bad idea; she had
been an idiot to suggest this. Paul was already entering though, so she had no
choice but to follow. Starfish stood aside to let her pass, but her shoulder
brushed against him, and her fur bristled uncomfortably at the sensation.

There was a flight
of steps as soon as they entered; as she walked up she heard Starfish bolting
the door behind them. Upstairs she found Paul looking around a living room
ringed with massive fish tanks and lit by lava lamps, a truly bizarre
combination. He gave her a questioning look, but before she could say anything,
Starfish had joined them.

“To what do I owe
the honor of your presence tonight?” he asked with a smile that seemed
distinctly lacking in warmth. “Just happened to be passing through this end of
town? Ah, where are my manners! Perhaps you would like something to drink?”

“No, I’m fine,” she
said, unsure how to begin.

“Quite a collection
you have here,” Paul commented, walking closer to the tanks. “Seawolf and I
were catching up on how the investigation’s been going and we thought you might
be a good person to answer some questions we had.”

“I’m sure you did,”
he said darkly. “Well, try me out! Have you been thinking up some exciting new
theories, Rachel?”

The fur on the back
of her neck prickled. “I don’t use that name,” she said.

“But it’s your real
name, isn’t it? You see, I remember you from Marine Biology. Rachel
Polydoras
.” He pronounced the name with a flourish that
made her stomach turn. “You were so hopelessly lost in that class. It’s really
quite amusing to see you play the scientist now.”

Paul turned around,
looking surprised. “Whoa, I don’t think that we need to dig up things that
happened years ago. We just have a few questions for you about the current
investigation.”

“Yes of course you
do, but don’t you find it so deliciously ironic that if Rachel here had only
been paying closer attention in class back then, she might have fewer questions
for me now? Or at least more pertinent questions. Because there’s really no
point at all in asking questions if you’re going to ask the wrong ones.”

“So what questions
should I be asking, Professor Keller?” Seawolf snapped. She couldn’t believe
the way he was talking to her. She couldn’t believe she had dragged Paul into
this.

Starfish waved
lazily at the rows of fish tanks. “Perhaps you might inquire how I am able to
keep electric eels alive in salt water? You do have a passionate interest in
eels, do you not?”

She looked at him
through narrowed eyes. “Electric eels short circuit in salt water, so that must
be fresh water.”

“If that were truly
your hypothesis, then you should be asking, why Dr. Keller, how do you get your
stunning collection of sea plants to thrive in fresh water? You see Rachel,
science is about attention to detail. Natural brilliance of course doesn’t
hurt. But for someone like you, attention to detail is a necessity.”

Paul moved closer to
Seawolf. “I’m not sure what you’re playing at, Starfish, but… ”

“I’m not playing at anything!”
he exclaimed in mock surprise. “Though if you wish to play, I am happy to
oblige.” He grinned, revealing two even rows of perfect white teeth. Seawolf
wondered if he had a second set farther back, like moray eels did.

“Fine, I’ll play,”
she said angrily. “How do you keep electric eels in salt water?”

“That’s a good girl.
Ask the right questions and you too can get a passing grade. Though I suppose
it’s a bit late for that.” He moved quickly to the nearest tank. “You see, I
have genetically engineered them. They are most magnificent creatures now -
able to withstand even the cold salt water of northern California, but with
their renowned electrical discharge capability intact. And that is not all,” he
said, plunging one of his rubbery orange arms into the tank in front of him. He
grabbed hold of an eel, shaking slightly as it discharged its current into him,
and raised it out of the tank.

“Okay, this is
getting weird,” said Paul. “Why don’t you put the eel back into the tank and we
can talk this over calmly.”

“Oh, don’t be
concerned,” Starfish said, “they are air breathers, electric eels. Every 10
minutes or so they must have fresh oxygen. But see what else my eels can do.”
He suddenly clamped down on the creature, squeezing so hard that Seawolf gasped.
“You’re killing it!” she exclaimed.

“Yes, I am,” he
said, smiling sadistically. “Look - it is quite dead now, is it not?”

Seawolf watched,
horrified, as Starfish throttled the eel and then dropped its limp body back
into the tank. “Wait, wait, patience…yes, now it begins - look!” She stared as
the strangulation marks on the side of the eel began to heal, as the eel began
to wriggle, and finally as it resumed swimming around the tank, looking as
healthy as it had before he had crushed it, though strangely smaller. Next to
her, Paul took in a sharp breath. “How the hell did it do that?”

Realization dawned
on Seawolf. “Regeneration - you imbued them with your DNA.”

“Indeed,” Starfish
said with a proud smile. “It is amazing what science can accomplish in the
right hands.”

“But why?” she said,
looking at him with a feeling approaching revulsion. She wanted to wipe that
grin off his face, to make those horrible little teeth disappear.

He looked
disappointed. “Why to cure myself, of course. Surely you of all mutants would
understand that, Rachel.”

She glared at him.
“I told you that I don’t use that name anymore,” she said, all of her fur
sticking up now.
This is
dangerous, this is very dangerous; we need to get out of here.
She
glanced around and saw that there was no easy egress. The few windows in the
room were above the fish tanks, up near the ceiling. There was a door, but it
would just lead deeper into the house. They would have to go back down the
staircase.

“But Rachel is your
real name,” Starfish insisted. “Just like my real name is Ross Keller. But
we’re not like Camille, are we? We have to do our heroics encased in these -
these mutant suits!” He spit the words out. “What happened to our real lives,
Rachel? What happened to our families, our lovers, our chances at happiness?”

“I’m not like you,”
she said. “I was born this way.” She made a small gesture behind her back,
trying to signal to Paul to start back towards the stairs. He either didn’t see
the gesture or chose to ignore it, because he remained standing next to her.

“That’s right,”
Starfish said, stopping a moment to consider the point. “Does that make it
easier, I wonder? Or is that much more difficult, to not even have a normal
memory to think back on, a time when you weren’t a freak?”

“No one here is a
freak,” Paul said.

“Yeah,” said
Seawolf, fighting to keep her voice steady. She took a step backwards and, as
she had anticipated, Paul moved back with her. “You and I aren’t freaks,
Starfish - we just look a little different on the outside.”

Starfish laughed, a
short, brutal laugh. “No, we’re different all the way through, Rachel. Didn’t
you tell me once that your own mother had screamed when she first saw you?
Don’t you feel the pain anymore when the little children point and cry?”

Out of the corner of
her eye, Seawolf saw Paul reaching for his gun. She shook her head. “He
regenerates too quickly,” she muttered as Starfish continued his monologue.

“Take this good
citizen here,” Starfish was saying. “Our own coastal guardian, the noble Paul
Rutledge, so quick to rush to your defense this evening. How chivalrous. And
yet do you think for an instant that he would ever touch you with a lover’s
hand? Look – he is revolted that I would even suggest such a grotesque
possibility.”

Seawolf reached
behind her as they continued to back up towards the wall. She remembered seeing
a table; there was a lava lamp on it. Perhaps if she could grab that… No, there
was no way they could fight him here on his terms. He was strong as hell and
could regenerate to boot. They’d be slaughtered. She had to get Paul out of
here. She had to keep Starfish talking.

“So you’re a
Celestial now?” she asked, taking a few more steps back. “Lord
Morte
stop by and sign you up?”

Starfish laughed.
“Perhaps. There is a certain appeal in the idea of becoming a Central American
potentate over some hapless population of illiterate mundanes. Or perhaps I
could learn Chinese and defect to the Celestial Empire; I’ve heard every mutant
is given a harem of willing breeding stock. But what would I do with a mate,
Rachel? How would I consummate my passion?”

“Mermaid problem,
eh?” she asked grimly. “Well, there’s more to life than sex.” They were at the
wall now, the table with the lava lamp was to her left, Paul was to her right,
and less than ten feet to the right of Paul was the staircase down.

“Can you honestly
say that you don’t long for someone to touch you?” Starfish asked, crossing the
room towards them. She pushed her shoulder against Paul and he took a few steps
to the right.

Starfish looked amused.
“You don’t actually think I’m going to let you leave, do you? Even you can’t be
that naïve, Rachel.”

She was sick of his
insults and provocations. “Get out of here,” she hissed to Paul as Starfish
approached. Paul shook his head, but did take another step to the right. She
grabbed the lava lamp and smashed it on Starfish at the same time that Starfish
backhanded her and sent her crashing over the table and against a fish tank.

Starfish laughed. “You
know, I thought about bringing you in on this, but at the end of the day, I
knew you didn’t even have the brains to be my lab assistant. You struggled in
my class, Rachel, and you’re struggling now.”

Paul drew his pistol
and shot twice; the bullets pierced Starfish’s torso, but within seconds his
skin had started to expel them.

“Shit,” Paul said.

Starfish laughed
again as he rounded on Paul. “I’ve always wanted to see what a Coast Guard man
is really made of!”

Seawolf dropped to
the floor and with all of her strength jerked the legs of the metal table
supporting the fish tank above her. As the tank fell, she swung the table into
Starfish’s back, knocking him to the side and over an armchair. The tank
crashed to the ground and shattered, spilling water and tropical fish all over
the floor.

“Ingenious,” said
Starfish. Paul was shooting again but the bullets were having almost no effect.
Seawolf realized that she was running out of time. She sprinted across the room
towards Paul.

“The most amusing
thing,” said Starfish as he pulled himself out of the armchair, “is that the
two of you could barely take down one of my pets and yet you presume to
threaten me! What hubris.”

She had reached
Paul’s side; the staircase was right beside them. If she and Paul both went
down, Starfish would follow and be on them before they could unlock the door.
She would have to find her own exit; right now she had to save Paul.

BOOK: West Pacific Supers: Rising Tide
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