coming.
We both looked out of the arch and saw a fit, attractive girl come running down the path, her eyes wary as she took us in. We both moved over to give her room and she shot through the arch and on down the path. Mark’s eyes followed her spandexed form before he turned to me. “I’ll take that as my cue.” Then he took off after her, jogging in his boots and cargo pants, twice her age and five inches shorter and not caring a wit. As he took off, I heard him mutter, “--about a non-angel-looking motherfucker,” and then he was around the corner and gone.
It had to go down as one of the most interesting meetings I’ve ever had, especially since the coverage of the events in Washington. Still amused by Deckert’s guy, I turned and headed south, toward lower Manhattan, toward home.
Chapter 2 – Declan
I kind of hate the part in the movies when the new kid hits the streets of the Big Apple and he or she is always all awestruck, wide-eyed, and obvious. Damn me if I didn’t turn out to be that same kid. What can I say? The late afternoon sun gleaming on the glass and steel buildings was just flat-out impressive.
Luckily, most of my gawking occurred inside the confines of Beast’s metal skin, which made me less noticeable but also made the tough driving tougher. Not to mention the noise and confusion, people cutting me off, cars careening around corners, pedestrians stepping out into oncoming death with complete nonchalance.
The sheer massive energy of millions of people and cars was overwhelming, almost intoxicating, not to mention the buses, trucks, cabs, and the rumbling subway underneath. What couldn’t I do with that much ambient power? An image of my aunt shaking a finger at me popped into my head.
Somehow I made it to the Demidova Tower without hitting anyone or getting hit and pulled into the underground parking where a guard noted my name, handed me a parking pass, and directed me to a spot near the elevators. He seemed to have expected me, which made me feel great right up until I took the elevator to the lobby.
When the door slid open to reveal a vast, open space dominated by massive, gleaming stone columns that reached three stories high, and a polished granite floor that seemed to stretch forever, I was back to gawking again. Which was noticed almost instantly by a group of fifteen or sixteen college-aged kids who were camped out in the seating area. A truly diverse-looking group, most of whom were probably a few years older than me, they were dressed casually, as opposed to me—in the suit that my aunt had insisted I wear.
The obvious thing to do was to head to the reception desk while ignoring the handful of kids, some of who were watching me with vast amusement.
“Can I help you?” the big security guy seated at the desk asked.
“My name is Declan O’Carroll. I’m here to see Chris and Tanya,” I said, realizing as I did just how unlikely it had to sound.
He looked me up and down, face blank. “I’ll need to see some identification,” he said in a neutral tone that made me wonder how many wackos showed up daily looking to meet with the newly famous couple.
I handed over my Vermont driver’s license and he punched my name into his terminal. An immediate frown was the result, which occurred simultaneously with an itchy voice in the back of my head. Not Sorrow’s voice, but the intuition I’d developed around technology that told me something was different. The guard, whose nametag said Andrew, poked at the keyboard for a moment, his finger strikes getting more forceful in the manner of someone attempting to speed up the computer through sheer force.
“Hey Joe, can you look at this?” Andrew asked over his shoulder. Another big guy wearing the black uniform of Demidova Security stepped over and looked at the screen.
“What the hell did you do to it?” Joe asked.
“Nothing—I
We both looked out of the arch and saw a fit, attractive girl come running down the path, her eyes wary as she took us in. We both moved over to give her room and she shot through the arch and on down the path. Mark’s eyes followed her spandexed form before he turned to me. “I’ll take that as my cue.” Then he took off after her, jogging in his boots and cargo pants, twice her age and five inches shorter and not caring a wit. As he took off, I heard him mutter, “--about a non-angel-looking motherfucker,” and then he was around the corner and gone.
It had to go down as one of the most interesting meetings I’ve ever had, especially since the coverage of the events in Washington. Still amused by Deckert’s guy, I turned and headed south, toward lower Manhattan, toward home.
Chapter 2 – Declan
I kind of hate the part in the movies when the new kid hits the streets of the Big Apple and he or she is always all awestruck, wide-eyed, and obvious. Damn me if I didn’t turn out to be that same kid. What can I say? The late afternoon sun gleaming on the glass and steel buildings was just flat-out impressive.
Luckily, most of my gawking occurred inside the confines of Beast’s metal skin, which made me less noticeable but also made the tough driving tougher. Not to mention the noise and confusion, people cutting me off, cars careening around corners, pedestrians stepping out into oncoming death with complete nonchalance.
The sheer massive energy of millions of people and cars was overwhelming, almost intoxicating, not to mention the buses, trucks, cabs, and the rumbling subway underneath. What couldn’t I do with that much ambient power? An image of my aunt shaking a finger at me popped into my head.
Somehow I made it to the Demidova Tower without hitting anyone or getting hit and pulled into the underground parking where a guard noted my name, handed me a parking pass, and directed me to a spot near the elevators. He seemed to have expected me, which made me feel great right up until I took the elevator to the lobby.
When the door slid open to reveal a vast, open space dominated by massive, gleaming stone columns that reached three stories high, and a polished granite floor that seemed to stretch forever, I was back to gawking again. Which was noticed almost instantly by a group of fifteen or sixteen college-aged kids who were camped out in the seating area. A truly diverse-looking group, most of whom were probably a few years older than me, they were dressed casually, as opposed to me—in the suit that my aunt had insisted I wear.
The obvious thing to do was to head to the reception desk while ignoring the handful of kids, some of who were watching me with vast amusement.
“Can I help you?” the big security guy seated at the desk asked.
“My name is Declan O’Carroll. I’m here to see Chris and Tanya,” I said, realizing as I did just how unlikely it had to sound.
He looked me up and down, face blank. “I’ll need to see some identification,” he said in a neutral tone that made me wonder how many wackos showed up daily looking to meet with the newly famous couple.
I handed over my Vermont driver’s license and he punched my name into his terminal. An immediate frown was the result, which occurred simultaneously with an itchy voice in the back of my head. Not Sorrow’s voice, but the intuition I’d developed around technology that told me something was different. The guard, whose nametag said Andrew, poked at the keyboard for a moment, his finger strikes getting more forceful in the manner of someone attempting to speed up the computer through sheer force.
“Hey Joe, can you look at this?” Andrew asked over his shoulder. Another big guy wearing the black uniform of Demidova Security stepped over and looked at the screen.
“What the hell did you do to it?” Joe asked.
“Nothing—I
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