Young Writers Society

This isn't my first attempt at a novel, but it's probably my most serious one. I'd love to post the outline but knowing the ending ruins the biggest plot twist in the whole book! This is supposed to be an action/modern fantasy type of thing. It may get a bit political as the story evolves, bear with me. I'm not good at writing good lengthed chapters so if there's a part that needs "more", please tell me about it!

Updates

Prologue - Chapter V Finished
Finished/Near Finished date - January September 2008
The prologue is cut because of some plot changes. *cuts prologue*


I

Rain fell up on the frayed streets of the city. Bits of trash swirled and danced about the street corners in the gusting wind, a stand in soul for the desolate roads of the district.. Fragments of it swung about poles and twirled down into alleyways, disappearing in the shadows. Thunder boomed loudly off in the distance, hinting playfully at the coming storm.. Clouds loomed overhead, drifting lazily through the gray, listless sky. Holly could hear the screams of anonymous victims reaching out from unknown alleyways. The faint smell of garbage and decay filled the air. She looked up at the buildings as she walked down the empty street. The facades of the old shops were covered in shadows, the foundations feeble and crumbling. Boards hung loosely off shattered windows. Holly stopped on a street corner and watched as the rain and the sewage dragged an old photograph into the depths of a storm drain. A police car sped down the street after an unknown criminal, its sirens blaring. Holly sighed, gathering her jacket around her as she continued through the deserted section of the old city. Sounds from unknown sources reached her ears and made her jump. She frowned at her self and continued on her way, listening to the faint tap of her shoes against the cracked concrete.

Holly tried to remember the days when the “elemental menace” had not been higher priority. She thought back to when she'd hired three of the gifted citizens onto the tactical squad. It was only two years later that the president of the Divix Security Department had classified the elementals as “highly dangerous and a threat to society.” Holly found herself filing paperwork to keep her own team members from being dragged off to testing facilities at the Divix containment center. The city had plunged into chaos long since, crime going unchecked unless the tactical squad was called in to take care of things that might otherwise hinder security's “top priority” efforts. Another patrol car sped by Holly, as if mocking her thoughts of the much brighter past. She felt the wind grow as she neared the top of the street that lead towards the tactical building. Approaching the bend, she could see the building in the distance.

The SinCon office loomed over the horizon, a gleaming white monument in a gray, run- down district. A dense fog rolled out in front of it, clouding the view of the grounds before the building. To Holly, it looked like a white tower of hope shining through the mists in the lands of the dead. She could hear the moaning of the dredged, and the soft shuffling of feet. Descending into the fog below, she was overcome with the sounds of the people, raining down blows on the security building. She heard the heavy thump of fists on brick, and the cries of frustration and pain that came afterwards. She felt lonely and afraid, wandering through the vast parking lot. A sense of unease build up in her chest as she tried to make her way through a dense patch of fog. Emerging, she let out a small gasp as waves of people came into view.

They moved like zombies about the hallowed grounds of the parking lot, the masses of the pained stumbling over each other. They attacked the building as if sieging a fortress, their dirt ridden hands leaving dark marks on the whitewash. Holly brought her hand to her mouth, a scream of terror growing from inside her. Her eyes rolled over the scene before her, watching as desperate people tripped and fought each other and then turned to the building; the damned of the city begging for salvation at the pearly gates. Holly closed her eyes, inhaling sharply; the smell of decay and disease filled her lungs. She eased around the masses, aiming to get to the building as quickly as her legs would carry her. She was nearly at the door when her foot caught on an unknown object, and she tumbled to the ground.

A hand found her arm and gripped on tightly. Holly screamed from pain and opened her eyes wide to see a woman in her later years glaring at her. The woman smiled wickedly, bearing rotten, yellow teeth that matched the diseased look of her greasy skin. Her frame was frail and emaciated, and she seemed to grip Holly with what little mortal strength she had left. Holly was too terrified to cry out. She frantically attempted to tear her arm away from the woman's grasp, but was unable to shake herself free.

“You've let them descend upon us, the demons of hell! Where is the hope for the people when its officers forsake its citizens? Where were you when the city plunged into darkness, when the people needed you! You are the scourge that plagues the city! I will kill you!”

Holly shrieked. She leaped up from the ground and flung herself forward, rushing towards the building. She was brought down again, arms reaching out to restrain her. She felt a wave of nausea pass over her as a warm, sticky substance stained her shirt. Looking around her, she found a man shrieking in pain from a flowing wound, his entire body too pale for any person. Holly dragged herself up and threw herself towards the door again, refusing to stop until she felt the cool mirrored glass against her skin. Her hands searched frantically for the keypad, punching in her code. The door gave way before her, and she felt a cool rush of air as she fell into the reception area. The door closed quickly with a whoosh, and the screaming disappeared.

Holly collapsed onto the floor. She turned to look back at the mirrored doors and found her own, pale reflection staring back at her. She could no longer hear the pounding of the people behind the mirrored door; nor could she smell the scent of squalor and abandonment that lingered just beyond the door. Her world was one of cleanliness and safety now. A world separated from the outside by a thick piece of metal and a sheet of glass. She lifted her head up to the reception desk to see the worried attendant staring down at her.
“Tough day, Miss?”
“Go to hell, Dolores.”

Hi!
First off I'd like to say that I really like this story idea!

In the prologue there are some grammar problems, which can easily be fixed. Also in the prologue, you could put in a tad bit more description.

Oh yes...and passenger seat of what? I know you mention the car later..but I was a little confused at first. Just clarify that, and you'll be okay!
The prologue was very dramatic. I liked it!

Chapter 1:
I like your use of adjectives! Very creative!
Description in Chapter one is much better!!!
I like the word choice, too. Like facade...I love it!
Chapter 1 engulfs the reader right away, and sucks them into this world!
Just a note: You might want to seperate this into more paragraphs. Also, seperate dialog from the descriptive paragraph.
The ending was really good!

Good job!~
I'll be looking for more!
~PN
PS. PM me when you have the next part!

Thanks for the comments, PN! I updated the prologue and shifted one of the paragraphs in chapter one. I think the grammar issue was fixed as well. Chapter two, hot off the press. This one's a lot longer, but I'd really appreciate a critique and tell me about any confusing parts!

II

The office of Holly Whims was a plain looking room with vanilla wallpaper on the walls and nondescript beige carpeting. An oak desk sat in the middle with a comfortable chair behind it and two smaller chairs in front. It housed an LCD monitor, a neat stack of papers, and a pencil jar. A photograph of Holly and the building's doctor, Dr. Pretchet, sat on the corner of the desk in a cheap wooden frame. The brass nameplate next to it was fading. It read, “Holly Whims – President of Security.” Under the desk sat the computer's inner parts and a keyboard on a retractable shelf. There was another table on the wall, housing notebooks of reports and manila folders with employee profiles as well as an old coffee percolator. A bookshelf was on the next wall, leaned against the cork-board. The books were mostly reference texts and training manuals. A worn copy of Withering Heights sat near the top shelf. The only sound in the room was the soft clicking of the mouse and the whir of the computer's processor. The owner herself sat at the desk of a new, high-end computer, searching through reports absentmindedly.

Bags hung from Holly's sleepy eyes, making the clear blue orbs look shadowy and hollowed. Her tawny hair was pulled back in a bun, and her black framed glasses sat on the perch of her nose. Her hands moved deftly over the keyboard, despite their awkward shape and long nails. Holly was a small, roundish woman. She was not the type of woman one might confuse for plump, but was decidedly not a model. Her skin was soft and untanned, brightening the color of her deep maroon suit. She moved about her office, checking files and filling out paperwork. There was a sharp ping as a window popped up on her screen. She plopped back into the easy chair and opened the message; it was from the surveillance and deployment department. Holly picked up the phone and punched in the department number, growling.

“Ms. Whims?”

“What do they want me to do now, Seymour?”

“Well...uh...there's a gang shooting up Market District and Divix is conducting research down by the pier so they've requested a tactical response.”

“Have they seen the mass of people outside the building today!? What do they want me to do about the blood on my new suit? Are we supposed to keep our happy visitors!?”

“Well, Holly, you see...they've commissioned a fence.”

“THEY EXPECT ME TO SEND OUT MY SOLDIERS AND THE ONLY THING THEY CAN GIVE ME IS A FENCE?”

“It's a very tall fence...”

“Seymour, feel free to join Dolores.”

Holly slammed the receiver down on the dock and rose from her desk, shaking her head. She shoved the door aside and stomped down the hallway, the sound of her heels making loud claps against the shiny linoleum flooring. The automatic glass doors hissed as they slid open and closed in her wake. A woman carrying a stack of files moved quickly out of Holly's way, almost running into an opening door. Holly's annoyance increased as the speakers blared out announcements from the reception desk. She punched the down button on the elevator, waiting impatiently for the lift to arrive.

As the doors finally slid open, she climbed in, tapping her foot on the way down to the bunker area. A rush of warm air blew past her as the doors opened. The hallways of the bunkers were smaller, with nondescript doors and hallways appearing every few feet. The hallways were marked with the letter of the wing and the range of room numbers. There were odd cork bulletin boards posted every so often, detailing the latest announcements from squadron leaders. Holly's shoes made next to no sound on the now soft carpeting of the building. She arrived at a door marked C-14 and banged on the wooden frame.

A tall, muscular man with bright red hair answered, wiping sleep from his eyes. His pajama pants sagged at his waistline, and he stood bare chested; Holly could see his six-pack. The soldier pulled himself to full height, towering above Holly's short frame. He blinked his sleepy gold-speckled eyes at her. In the background, Holly could see the messy dorm room behind him, his clothes spread across the floor. Another roommate slept peacefully in the bed nearest the window, snoring loudly. His electric blue hair flicking up and down with his breathing, bright blue eyes closed in deep slumber. From her spot in the hallway, Holly judged him to be near the height of the man before her.

“What do you need boss?” The man at the doorway brought a tanned arm to his face, attempting to clear his eyes by rubbing his head across his skin. The arm was defined with muscle.

“Ezra, wake up your brother and then get Derek and go to Market District. There's a disturbance and Divix wants us to take care of it.”

“What kind of disturbance is it this time?” He leaned lazily against the door frame, smiling to himself. “Is there another cat up a fire escape?”

Holly growled. “Ezra just hurry it up, would you! I don't have time to deal with you and I certainly don't have time to explain why my team wasn't there when Divix ordered us out. Now hurry up and get down to the district before I turn your paperwork over to the Elemental Control and Handling Officers!”

“Alright, alright, Holly. We both know that the Echos would tear this place down, no need to threaten. ISSAC!”

Holly watched as the two boys jogged hurriedly down to the equipment room, stopping only to pound on a door down the hallway and retrieve a third companion. Issac waved at Holly as they turned the corner and disappeared from site. Holly let her weight fall backward, dropping herself against the wall. The cool air of the hallway swirled about her and she shivered slightly. She let her mind wander, wondering how high a fence would need to be to keep nightmares out.

Holly made her way back to the administrative floor, leaning against the elevator's mirror as the cheap music filled the small shaft. She stepped out onto the tile and stopped by her office, filling a cup with black coffee. A new report was laid out on her desk. She examined the document from the records department, and decided to pay it a visit. Turning down the hallway, she traversed the halls, finally coming to a large, oaken door. Pushing the heavy door open, she found herself in a large room stacked to the ceiling with filing cabinets. She looked around the records room, taking in the smell of old paper and ink. The room was was dully lit, and large shadows were cast by the filing cabinets. The screech of dry ladder wheels could be heard from the back of the room, as clerks slid up and down the cabinets, checking files. A few men sat at tables discussing data; others were typing out documents on old laptops. An older man sat behind the clerk's desk, his gnarled hands busying themselves with a spreadsheet. Holly cleared her throat and the man looked up, grunting.

“Where are the crime statistics?”

The main pointed a scrawny arm towards the back, and Holly nodded awkwardly. The room seemed much colder than the rest of the building as she made her way to the back. She stopped by a table of employees who were pouring over the recent homicide statistics. The men were deep in discussion about the data.

“Do you see this increase? With the crime rates going up, it's a wonder there's anyone left in the city!”

“Don't be ridiculous. Reproduction rates are as high as always.”

“Still, you have to admit, you'd think the mayor would have done something about it. Divix isn't helping the citizens out any. They're conducting their own research looking for those stupid...what do you call them?”

“Elementals.”

“Right! Them. There's not even a forty percent chance they exist, and the city has plunged into chaos because of them! Where is our great executive board in these hard times? Out playing golf.”

“Actually, the mayor appeared in public the last time about two years ago, when Livingston launched his plan for cleansing the city of the 'great threat' to society.”

“That's suspicious, isn't it? What are the odds of that?”

Holly didn't need to know statistics to understand that it was unlike the mayor of a large city to be missing for two years. She pondered this for a short while when one of the employees noticed her.

“Ms. Whims, can I help you?”

Holly snapped out of her daydream. She blinked, confused for a moment, then remembered the papers in her hands. “Oh, have you misplaced the records for Ezra, Issac, and Derek yet?”

The employee nodded. “They've been amply lost in the database. No queries pull them up and there are random errors when searching for them by hand. A misplaced letter, etcetera. Anything else, Holly?”
“
No, that's alright.”

She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned around to see a very nervous looking Seymour. The boy was only as tall as Holly, with a scrawny build. He was pale with thick glasses and dark curly hair. He was wringing his wrists in anticipation. Holly cocked her head to the side as if to ask what it was that Seymour wanted.

“There's something interesting we have to show you.”



The air whipped around the heads of the tactical unit as they climbed to the roof. Ezra, the red headed boy, looked out over the city. Cars sped down the streets as if navigating a maze, making aimless turns and ignoring any traffic laws that might have been in place. Patterns and swirls formed from the cracks in the roads and sidewalks. Clouds loomed over the skyline and lightening sparked about tall buildings. The wind let out another moan as it ripped through the dark, gray city. Ezra stretched out his limbs, attempting to loosen the grip of the battle gear.

They were clad in black, fitted shirts that squeezed the Kevlar vests to their chests. A digital watch hung from each of their wrists, each synchronized with each other. The team was also outfitted with khaki cargoes and shock absorbing running shoes. Their belts sagged with equipment and a rope was wrapped about each officer's shoulders. Issac bounced up and down, checking the bend of his soles. Derek finished surveying the area, and spread the holo-map of the city across the building's concrete. The map was printed over a dark blue background, a lighter blue, moving grid lain over top. Market District was marked with a red, pulsing dot; their current position was marked with a green triangle. Derek placed his gloved finger on their location, and traced a route across the city's rooftops to the point of disturbance. A purple trail lit up under his fingers. Ezra and Issac nodded, and programmed the location into their watches. Derek signaled for a triangular approach, and mapped out two alternative routes, splitting the team into three approaching units. Issac and Ezra nodded in confirmation, and lined up on the edge of the roof. The team bent their knees, building strength, and sprang from the rooftop, throwing themselves at the adjoining buildings.

Issac hooked onto the next rooftop, hauling himself up and dashing across it for the next one. He checked his watch quickly, making sure he was following his path. The team advanced in silence, the sound of their shoes speeding across the concrete ringing in their ears. Issac tried to suppress a smile as the wind rushed past his ears. He wondered what it would be like to be a normal human, without the ability to flit from location to location. He felt the sensation of freedom as he hurled himself across the gaps between rooftops, the ground leaving him for a moment as he soared through the air silently, delicately. He felt like a bird, flying over the city. Snapping himself out of his daydreams, he glanced at his route again, and widened his range, heading for the eastern entrance of Market District. Sliding to a stop at his vantage point, he spoke into his watch.

“Position confirmed. Visual lock on targets.”

“Maintain cover until further notice.”

Issac leaned over the edge of the archway, looking over the district. Across the plaza of the markets, Issac could see his brother perched atop a church, crouching low in front of the bell. Ezra regarded the scene below with disgust, cringing as he looked upon the chaos.

The once cheerful place of communion was in pandemonium. The sharp crack of gunshots rang through Ezra's ears, accompanied by the high pitched screaming of helpless citizens. Men with large guns were rampaging through the plaza, mowing down innocent civilians. They shattered the glass of storefronts, loading merchandise into a nearby parked van. Ezra could already see the newly piled bodies of the unlucky, trails of red, sticky liquid running out from underneath them. His muscles tightened in anger. He watched, fuming as one of the gang members cornered a young girl. The man pinned her against the brick wall just below him, barking at her to do undesirable tasks.

“Derek, request permission to begin clearing the area.”

“Hold your position, Ezra. We need to know how many there are.”

“There's one right below me and he's about to kill this girl. I'm going in.”

“Hold...your...position.”

“Sir, yes, Sir.”

Ezra let out a deep throated growl as he descended from the pillar, pinning the attacking man tot he bricks. The man let out a roar and the others were alerted to Ezra's presence. Ezra could hear Derek screaming orders into his communicator, but ignored them. Screaming at the frightened girl to run, he turned to face the mob of criminals advancing upon him. He smiled wickedly at them, his golden eyes sparkling. The mob opened fire as a wall of flames shot up from Ezra's feet, blocking the bullets. Dashing through the wall, Ezra caught one of the criminals under the ribs with his fist, smashing him to the ground. He felt a pair of arms restrain him as a knife came around his side, headed for his chest. Concentrating, Ezra's frame burst into flames, and the criminals were thrown from his back. The fire went out, and he sunk to the ground, breathing heavily.

Issac descended from his post, shoving aside the approaching gang members. Taking aim, his hands shook and sparks flew from them. He shot a stream of lightning into a group of nearby criminals, sending them to the ground in violent convulsions. He noticed Ezra kneeling on the ground and sprinted over to his brother, helping him up. Another group of mob members descended upon them, guns cocked, and opened fire. Issac shot an electric charge through the air, suspending the bullets. He fended off the criminals, the charge building up in his frame.

Issac felt the shock start to overload, and his body twisted and pulsed. He sank to his knees, shaking and gasping for air as the charge radiated from his body, shocking the people around him. Fleeing citizens screamed in agony as electricity pumped through their bodies. Issac wrapped his arms around his body, trying to control the sparks. He collapsed to the ground, writhing violently. Ezra tried to restrain his brother, his body pulsing and burning from the shock waves. A loud boom from overhead sounded, and Issac crashed to a halt.

The world seemed to ripple as Derek jumped down from his post. He crossed the bricked plaza silently, hauling a nearby gang member to his feet. He slammed the man against the wall, staring him down with a menacing gaze. A wicked smile played on his lips, and he turned his head to address the rest of the criminals.

“For all of you looking to harm these people, remember this site.”

Laughing, he turned back to the man against the brick, gazing intently into his eyes. The man stared back in horror, and his frame began to twist and shake. A gurgling sound escaped from his throat as his body thrashed up and down under Derek's hard grip. Raising his free hand, Derek brought his palm down hard against the wall, slapping the stone. A deep sonic boom resonated, filling the heads of nearby people with pain and anguish. Nearby onlookers fell to their knees clutching their ears and screaming in agony. The man against the wall shook his head from side to side, foam forming from his mouth. Derek laughed as he brought his palm against the pavement again, a sharper note crackling out this time. Blood streamed from the man's nose, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. In the background, Derek could hear Ezra screaming for him to stop, but his voice was lost in the sound resonance. With a final striking of his palm against the cement, the man twisted and jerked, and hung limply in Derek's grasp. Derek let him slide to the ground, blood streaming from his mouth and tear ducts now, and shot a menacing gaze toward the rest of the plaza. They heard the sound of fast approaching sirens.

“Derek, what did you do!”

“I cleared this place out, Ezra. We need to go, the Echos will be here.”

“Look at Issac! He's unconscious. That other man is dead.”

“Get to the roofs, we need to go.”

“I'm not going anywhere until you-”

“Go! That's an order. Or do you not remember how to follow orders?”

Derek raised his hands, making Ezra flinch. Slowly, the squadron leader lifted Issac over his shoulder, and sprang for the rooftops. Ezra looked over his shoulder at the stunned and fleeing citizens, then followed. They concealed themselves behind the church bells, and watched as the Echo police arrived to clean up the mess below. Ezra leaned over the side of the tower, looking over the approaching officers.

The Echos were like robots; they jumped out of the trucks in heavy suits of alien armor, hauling heavy duty weaponry. They surveyed the area, one of the officers carrying a sensory instrument Ezra had never seen before. The man appeared to determine the area was clear, and the officers began spraying it down with a greenish liquid as a troop of what appeared to be paramedics loaded bodies into the back of the trucks. The few remaining mob members were hand cuffed and the trucks sped away after everything had been checked. Ezra was astounded at the cold, mechanical way in which the officers functioned. They had arrived without a word, assessing and cleaning things, and had left in the same manor with no regard for the injured citizens. They had taken only the bodies they'd needed, and let the rest of the plaza go unnoticed. Derek motioned coolly for Ezra to follow, and they returned to the base in silence.



The surveillance room was dark, the only light coming from the glow of the images on the holographic display boards and the computer monitors. Reports and statistics scrolled the screen of the computers on the far walls, and footage of the streets decorated the televisions around the room. Employees sat at their desks, running commands for the cameras and sensors to follow, occasionally writing down notes. Seymour was standing in front of one of the medium sized displays. He pulled up the scrolling blue grid, and transposed a traffic report onto the screen.

Holly reviewed the images on the screen, not sure what to make of it. The grid showed an older section of the city in the government district, with three blue dots circling the area every three hours. The tapes were sped up to show overlapping circular patterns. Holly turned back to Seymour, questions scrawled across her face. The boy turned to his computer and hit another key, then motioned for Holly to continue watching.

Dash marks appeared on the screen, following the truck's movements. The patterns were, in fact, concentric circles, overlapping at a particular building. The trucks sped by on the same path every few hours, and converged at three distinct points. The area in the center was unknown to Holly, the markings on the grid showed it as a common structure. She turned back to Seymour.

“Find out if those trucks do this at night, as well as if it happens tomorrow. Send the report and these maps to my computer. Have the guys down in statistics take a look at it. I want to know what's going on.”

Moved to Fantasy Fiction.



(As you've now got prologue and chapters up, Hermes, it belongs in the Lit. Forums. If you ever need a critique, feel free to PM me.)







IMP

I still like it!
The description is fantabulous.
It has great meaning, and I get a clear idea of what is going on.
You should try to avoid semi-colons, though. I know some writer's like them...but to me it seems kind of non-fluent.
I saw a few places where you could have added a "and" instead of putting in a semi-colon.
Character interaction is good, and I like the way you portrayed Isaac, Ezra, and Derek!
Anyways, I look to read more! It sound great!
~PN
PS. PM me when you have the next part up!

III

Salt water and spray splashed upon the researchers out on pier forty-three. The man in the yellow slicker slipped into the safe-house, shaking the stinging water from his eyes. He examined the camera feed from the excavation submarines. The footage showed nothing but the cramped inside of the cabin and blackness all around, they were deep within the trench. Moving to the holo-tracker, the man in the yellow slicker watched the sub's progress through the trench. Using its echo process, the submarine mapped out curves and junctions, with nothing extraordinary appearing on the sea floor. The sub was exploring one of the more complex stalagmite structures in an underwater cave when the echo picked up a mineral structure.

A sharp ping began to come at regular intervals from the holo-display. A window popped on the screen and an analysis of the mineral came into view. The man in the yellow slicker reviewed them, eyes widening. He checked the charts on the wall, but could find no similarities for any of the commonly found minerals around the city. Calling over one of the scientists, they cross examined the data spewing from the computer screen. The pings had increased; there was a large quantity of whatever it was down there. The man in the yellow slicker pressed a button on a nearby intercom, ordering the employees to grab samples of the mineral. The scientists sat at the consul, frantically scribbling data and shoving print-outs into their notebooks.


Back in the Divix research facility, the scientists poured over the new mineral. It glowed like red-hot steel, and refused to shatter under the highest pressure tests. The results made the researchers anxious, and they began testing its plausibility. Tests showed that the mineral would not mold, bend, or shape easily, and extremely high temperatures did not affect it physically or chemically. After a series of frustrating tests, they managed to break it into smaller fragments using high frequency resonance. The material responded actively to sound waves. The employees were busying themselves with the results when the doors slid open and the president walked in.

“What are the results?”

A small man around thirty, with graying hair, approached the president. He stumbled through the results of the experiment, hands shaking from excitement.

“Well, sir, after running a few queries we weren't actually able to determine much about the element manipulators except that they have a higher tolerance for pain and heal faster. As well they have some higher brain activity which suggests they have a mental connection to their abilities. However, I'd really like to talk about a new finding from pier forty-three. Our submarines found a new kind of mineral in the trench a few kilometers from shore. ”

“The material is like nothing we've ever seen before, Mr. Livingston! It's amazing. It responds only to high frequency waves and it's just about unbreakable. It withstands high heat, electroshock, extreme erosion, maybe even high pressured water! Some of the team was considering running psychological tests. In theory the material could respond to brainwaves, if they were concentrated to the right frequency.”

“That sounds preposterous! What are the factors of a test like that? You want me to allow you to alter one of my employees mentally?”

“Actually sir, with the right equipment, the amount of feedback the subject would experience would be minimal, if there's any feedback at all. Could you imagine the possibilities of this mineral? Weaponry controlled by thought? Certainly, it will take some time to find proper methods of shaping it and the technology itself could take months, maybe even years to develop but given time...”

“Dr. Robinson, what does this....this rock...have to do with my facilities? We have a top priority operation going on right now, and you're waisting my time with this nonsense.”

“Sir, with all due respect, if the mineral responds to brainwaves then it must be able to affect them as well! While we could try altering it using a test subject, we could also try the reverse.”

“Did I not just inform you that you will not be testing this...monstrosity on my employees!”

Robinson shivered. A smile formed on his mouth and his hands steadied. He raised his eyes to meet the president's.

“Sir, I doubt our employees could handle the amount of activity it would take to make the mineral respond.”

“...However?”

“However, it would be possible to use someone with special brainwaves to alter the material.”

IV

Ezra and Derek sat in silence in the cold locker room as they changed from their uniforms. The room seemed darker and more metallic to Ezra as he pulled his street clothes from his locker. A loud crash sounded as he slammed the door back into place and closed the lock. Derek stared at him, unmoved. Ezra was bubbling with anger.

“That was completely over the top, Derek!”

“I did what was necessary to break up the disturbance. If you don't like it perhaps you aren't fit to be on this squadron.”

“You killed that man and you put one of your own in the infirmary!”

“Issac will recover just fine, Ezra. Now I suggest you let it go.”

“Since when did killing people become standard procedure?”

Derek reached for Ezra's throat, choking the red-headed boy and pinning him to the locker door behind him. Ezra struggled to breath under his team leader's grip, staring Derek down fiercely with eyes glowing like embers. He felt his hands grow hot with flame. Derek slammed his hand against the locker door, and a sharp pain erupted in Ezra's head. Blood began to drip from his nose.

“This is not the time to question my authority. The man I disposed of was scum, a common criminal endangering helpless citizens. It's a reluctant site to witness, but I will do what needs to be done. The mission was to break up the riot, and that's what I did. Are there any questions, soldier?”

“You're insane.”

Derek increased his grip, leaning on Ezra and pinning him harder. Ezra could see the gleam in his dark eyes and smell the sweat on his face. A smile played at Derek's lips.

“Is it insane to exercise my rights? Why be given the powers if you're not going to use them to the fullest advantage? They make our job easier. It's our right to out do the common people. Wouldn't you love to be as free as a wild fire? Roaring through the lands and claiming your domain? “

“I use my power for what I can. I don't start raging infernos and I don't hurt people.”

“I know I would love to be sound itself. To know and hear everything. To be everywhere around the world. To have control. I'm sure Issac thinks the same way. Doesn't he want to be stronger? Wouldn't he just love to soar through the clouds as electricity in its purist form?”

Ezra shoved hard, throwing his leader from him. His chest heaved in anger as he drew in sharp, heavy breaths. His eyes burned into Derek's.

“You will leave my brother out of this. He doesn't need someone like you influencing his opinions.”

Ezra left the bunker, seething in hatred. He could hear Derek's raspy laughter behind him as he headed toward the infirmary.


Holly sat in the large, noisy cafeteria, enjoying her sandwich. A tall, square jawed man with narrow, black rimmed glasses sat across from her, picking at a plate of pasta salad. Holly smiled at him distantly and looked about the large, white room. It was warmer than most of the corridors of the SinCon building. Various employees sat chatting at round lunch tables, and there was the constant sound of food being served and the humming of conversation in the background. Bulletin boards and notices plastered the off white walls, announcing different employee pier group meetings. Great, arched windows decorated the wall behind her, showing a view of the ocean beyond the city. The sky was covered in clouds, and the waters crashed upon the rocks of the shore. The intercom came on, blaring out a short announcement about casual Friday. Across the room, a lunch lady dropped a load of trays that clattered at her feet as they hit the floor. Holly laughed inwardly and turned back to the man across from her, who was going on about crime numbers in a large, educated voice.

“The boys in the record rooms are right, you know. The mayor hasn't made any public appearances in quite a while, and the executive board have been inactive as well. There are rumors circulating they spend most of their time at an offshore island for the purposes of conducting business in private. You'd think someone would report these times of chaos to the board by now.”

“You know the people, they love to complain but not to do anything about it.”

“So why haven't you turned in any reports, Holly? Don't you have direct contacts with some of the board members.”

“I did, but they insist that the statistics turn up normal in their machines and the reports legitimate. Whenever I have the department check it out, they confirm that the city is in prime condition. We're not sure where these numbers are even coming from. The reports are showing up on my desk that the city is just as safe as it's always been, when the statistics in archives say otherwise.”

“A conspiracy? That's a little far-fetched.”

“Is it? Have you been around the city lately or do you just haul up in the bunkers?”

“With that mob outside I think everyone's elected to stay here overnight.”

“Very funny. Pretchet, I was in the traffic room yesterday and the guys showed me the latest report. Did you know there are three Echo patrols going in a pattern of concentric circles? We're not sure what the convergence point is for, but the trucks are by there every three hours, scouting. What could be so important about an old brick house near government district?”

“Who knows, Holly? Those crazy patrolmen have been doing a lot of weird things. It's not like they would spend their time actually helping people. They just chase down those kids with the crazy hairdos. If it worries you that much, I'll take a look at the reports. I've been in the city my whole life, I think I could tell you something about the area.”

Holly frowned and reached into her bag for her laptop. Pulling the machine out, she brought up the holographic display and accessed the latest traffic reports. Pretchet examined the patterns mapped out as the tiny blue dots circled an unknown area of the city. He ruffled through the pockets of his long lab coat, and pulled out a city map. Laying it out on the table, he circled the convergence point, then frowned down at the landmark. His face grew serious.

“I know this building. It's the last place the mayor made a public appearance. The building is a landmark, it was the first courthouse. They remodeled it into the Mayor's chambers and he moved in after cutting the ribbon. Not too many residents around that area anymore, the traffic used to be horrible. Whatever the Echos want inside that house must have something to do with the mayor.”

“What connection does the Mayor have to Divix?”

“Holly, the mayor is the head of the executive board. He has the right to assign people to the position of president of the security facilities, like he did with you. He also approves all of the security plans for the year as well as any changes in department. Before he moved into the house, he was the one that announced Livingston as president of Divix corp to succeed his father.”

“So if the mayor can control the running of the security facility, then Divix must be planning something that only he can approve.”

“I don't see why that would call for them to patrol the area.”

“Neither do I.”

Seymour came shuffling into the room, nearly tripping over his own feet as he approached Holly's table. He was shaking with nervous tension as he took a seat and tried to remember what it was he was there for in the first place. Holly rolled her eyes at him, taking another bite of her tuna sandwich. Pretchet laughed, and offered the boy his bag of chips, which Seymour took happily to occupy his mouth while he tried to arrange his words. When he'd finished the chips, he turned to Holly, wiping the grease from his mouth with his sleeve.

“The guys in the research room wanted to see you. They said it was really important and that you might want to bring the tactical team with you. I don't know why they send me to do these things I really don't enjoy running about this facility. Anyways, they're looking for you, Ms. Whims.”

“Thanks, Seymour. Now go back to the surveillance room and get me a map from the boys in there.”

Pretchet gave Holly an inquiring look as she rose from the table and began walking towards the door, headed for the infirmary. She shrugged back at him, not knowing what the scientists had discovered, either. He shook his head in wonder and went back to finishing his pasta salad. Whatever it was she was planning, he could find out about it tomorrow.


The machines in the hospital room beeped and buzzed, monitoring Issac's heart rate. The room was completely white, with a cold, hard tiled floor. The blinds were drawn and the light in the room came from the fluorescent bulbs overhead. There was a small night stand next to the hospital bed, and an easy chair rested at its side. Door on the eastern side led to a tiny bathroom.

Issac lifted himself from the bed, holding his head in his hands. His vision cleared after a few moments and he lifted himself onto the floor, steadying his balance Ezra walked in the door with a sandwich, and handed it to his brother. Issac took it thankfully and sat back on the bed side. Ezra joined his brother.

“How you feeling?”

“I never want to hear another sound like that again.”

“Tell me about it. You've got to work on your sparking. You almost lost it back there.”

“I'm trying, Ezra. I'm not as strong as you are. I wish I was though. You can control your power perfectly and I almost overload every time I use mine.”

“You'll get it, Izzy.”

“I doubt it. Maybe I should quit being a soldier.”

“Hey, come on now. It's the attitude that matters, and yours stinks. Now eat your sandwich.”

A knock came from the front of the room, and Ezra looked up to see Holly standing in the doorway.

“You two, grab Derek and meet me in the research room. Now.”

Ezra frowned at Holly. He rose to his feet, stretching his arms and yawning.

“Holly we just got back from a mission and Issac could really use some more food and sleep and-”

“Now, Ezra. I mean it.”

V

The office of Clancy Livingston was a large, modern themed room with a great bay window looking out over the Divix training grounds. The president of Divix reclined in a soft, leather chair, looking over his company. Emails and data were spreading themselves over his screen, and the printer and fax were spewing reports out for him to review. His phone rang, and he forwarded it to the answering machine. Clancy was not in the mood to work, his large, slippered feet resting on the coffee table nearby. He stood and approached the large window, his hands crossing his broad chest. His face was scrunched up in scrutiny as he observed the view.

The Divix complex was headed by the administrative building, which rose forty stories into the cloudy, gray sky. From his view on the top, Clancy could see the majority of the training grounds, each building and division falling victim to his gaze. The Echo officers were running about the grounds in training, doing routine exercises. They looked like well organized ants from Clancy's point of view. The complex had a vibe of power and strength, and the president soaked it in before turning his attention to the raised model of the complex in the middle of the room. It was cast in metal and had been painted in a special, glossy coat so the colors sprang with divinity as light poured into the room. The president ran his fingers over one of the modeled trees, admiring the intricacy of the model in the room. He studied the grounds of the complex.

It was a huge operation. The entire system of buildings, tents, and divisions pushed back to the beach itself, where there was a wharf and port for imports and exports. The training grounds were a pattern of small offices and large tents and barracks structures. The circular, domed mess hall sat in the center of the bunkers, a place of communion. The research facility itself was fenced and highly secured in the back eastern corner, accessible only if you went through the rest of the complex, where an intruder was likely to be seen and caught in a matter of seconds. The administrative building itself was split into three sections, with the executive offices on the right wing, and the human resources on the left. The model showed the human resources building in gleaming beauty, when the real life structure was largely incomplete. The building itself was little more than a blank room with a couch and a woman sitting at a desk checking her lottery tickets on a small television. Nobody ever entered the human resources building except the secretary, and she worked for only an hour a day.

Clancy returned to his desk and began looking through the reports from the training divisions. There was a good response from the Echo agents, and the numbers were steady. No one had been injured or ejected from service in months, and it was looking to stay that way. He flipped through to the police reports, where three new subjects had been captured. Clancy raised his thick, dark brown eyebrows in delight, his yellow teeth exposed in a smile as his dark mustache curled about his lips. He ran a hand through his short hair and and continued looking through the reports with steely brown eyes. The research facility was making good progress with the latest finds, and was well on their way to stage two of development. Clancy was just finishing the report when the phone rang. He picked up the receiver.

“What is it?”

“This is the representative of the city's executive board, Clancy Livingston. I trust that everything is going according to our plans?”

“Why yes, we have made contact with the mayor and we're making some headway in the plans you've sent recently. Did you get the package I sent you?”

“Yes. The results are...intriguing. I'm assuming you've cleared the proper tests and have been watching the development of the mineral's capabilities very closely?”

“Like a father over his daughter, councilor.”

“Glad to hear it. Send in the latest results at the end of the week, and we will decide the best course of action from there. If everything proceeds as on paper, you will have your benefits, and we will have control over the city.”

“Not to be disrespectful, councilor, but how can you possibly gain more control over the city than you already have?”

“We control the government, but not the people outside it. The city is on the verge of a war, and we will be on the winning side, Mr. Livingston. Proceed as planned, we will be in contact.”

The line went dead as Clancy replaced the receiver upon the dock. He leaned his head back against his leather chair, soaking in the scent of the soon to come victory. Visions of wealth swam about his consciousness when a sharp tapping sound came from the door. Clancy sighed heavily and sat up in his chair. He cleared his throat officially.

“Enter.”

A young man nearing his mid twenties walked in briskly, his weapon held idle at his side. He seemed tired from the rush to the president's office. Clancy nodded at him and he saluted, setting his back strait and looking over the top of Clancy's head.

“Sargent Hammond wishes to see you, sir.”

Clancy rose and followed the boy lazily down the carpeted hallway to the elevator. It let out a light ping as they stepped in, and Clancy leaned across the cool mirrored glass. The soldier was staring straight at the doors, unmoving. Clancy admired his officialness and let out a small laugh. The boy seemed startled, for he lost his composure for a minute, then returned to his stance. Another ping sounded, and they stepped out into the grand lobby of the administrative building. Heading across the large, decorated, marbled floors, they exited through the glass doors and strolled out into the dusty training grounds. Clancy could now hear harsh orders being called and the united thump of boots on dirt. The soldier led him to a small tent where a man about Clancy's height was sitting at a desk. Saluting once more, the soldier left to rejoin the ranks.

“Hammond?”

The man looked up with tired eyes and rose before the president. He coughed wearily and cleared his throat before addressing Clancy.

“Mr. President, Sir. I wish to report that the new combat suits are near completion and will be fit for combat in the next month, Sir! The research department tells me that results will come quickly and without mercy.”

“Excellent work, Hammond. See that the new breed of soldiers is fit to wear them.”

“With haste, Sir.”

They shook hands and Clancy departed, annoyed at the briefness of the conversation. He thought to himself how much easier it would have been if the Sargent had simply faxed him. Heading back towards the office, he turned to hear the urgent calls of another younger employee. The boy came sprinting up, and doubled over, clutching his knees. Divix was a vast complex, and not one that you'd want to run across.

“There has been a breach in the research department, Sir. Unknown intruders who've taken out the security cameras. Shall I send out the Echo troops?”

The president narrowed his eyes, and a smile formed across his face. He checked his watch and nodded at himself. Turning back towards his office, he departed, not caring to see the reaction of the employee.

“Tell them to do nothing. Absolutely nothing.”