"'We' don't seem to need to make any decisions," Michael said, leveling his insolent gaze straight at Max. "Our Mighty King has spoken. “
"Let's not go through this again, Michael," Max said, an edge of anger creeping into his voice in spite of himself. Less than a year earlier, Michael had challenged Max's leadership one too many times. He'd even managed to steal the Antarian royal seal Max carried embedded within him. But Max had taken it back, and Michael had pretty much toed the line since then.
"Before you go off making pronouncements, there's one thing we haven't really talked about," Maria said. Max assumed her edgy tone was in defense of Michael. "When you heal people, you transfer some of your alien essence into them. Look at what's happened to Liz. How do we know it won't happen to Kyle? You've healed him twice now. And how about his dad? Or, for that matter, what about Brody's daughter, and all those sick kids you healed Christmas before last? Or any of the others? “
"We don't know that the power transfer works on everybody" Isabel said.
"Actually, I think it's started to work on me already," Kyle said. Everyone looked at him, but only Maria's face revealed any shock. Max remembered she had been the only one unconscious back in the mall's corridor. She hadn't witnessed Kyle's surprising psionic episode.
"1 mean, what was going on with me back at the mall?" Kyle said. "It was like I was inside a bunch of people's heads all at once, but I wasn't, like, telepathic or anything. “
"Didn't Nasedo say that your powers come from the parts of the brain that aren't fully used in most humans?" Liz asked, looking toward Michael.
"Pretty much," Michael responded. "He told me that when we were engineered, we were given the capacity to do everything the human brain is capable of. He said that humans were wasteful, that they didn't even reach a small part of their brains' potential. We're programmed to be thousands of years ahead of mankind. “
"Minimal brain use isn't exactly a new theory," Liz said. "Science-fiction writers have been using that as a plot device for years. In order to be smarter or more powerful, we just need to use our whole brain instead of only a fraction of it. “
"So Nasedo said that none of your powers come from the fact that you're aliens?" Maria said, looking confused. "We could do all the things you can do if we just thought harder? “
"I don't think that's quite it," Max said. "From what Nasedo said, there are things we can do that were engineered into us. That's clear, given that some of us can do things the others can't. And our corresponding Dupes from New York apparently had the same powers as we do… or at least very similar ones. “
"Not to get too techno-geeky, but the brain runs on electrical impulses, and our thoughts are an extension of those impulses," Liz said. "Since I seem to have electrical powers and intermittent precognition, maybe Max's powers jump-started those neural pathways in my brain. “
"That might explain whatever happened to me today," Kyle said. "It felt like I was, I don't know, broadcasting everyone's thoughts or… it was weird. “
"So, we know that two of the people Max has healed have started to develop hyperbrains," Maria said. "But both of them were shot, and dying. So was Kyle's dad. That's different from all the sick kids he healed. So is it possible they won't develop into the New Mutants because they weren't bleeding from gunshot wounds when they were healed? “
Isabel waved her hands in front of her. "Okay, enough. We don't know whether everyone Max heals will develop alien powers or not. So the question becomes: Do we risk our safety helping these people or not? “
"We're helping them," Max said. Michael rolled his eyes. "But first, we get some sleep. Everybody. “
He turned toward Kyle. "Please set your watch alarm for two A.M. That's when the bars close. If there's any time the hospital might be busiest at night, that's when it will be. “
"Are you thinking some drunks might get into a car wreck tonight to create a diversion for us?" Michael said, smirking at Max.
"There doesn't seem to be much else for the locals to do in this town at night besides hit the cowboy bars," Max said. He looked around the van at the others. "We'll go over everything at two. But first, we all need to get some sleep and recharge our batteries. “
A few minutes later, everyone in the group seemed to have made the best of its situation. Michael and Maria were in the very back of the Microbus, while Max, Liz, and Isabel tried to get comfortable in the center section. Kyle occupied the driver's seat, his body leaning over onto the window, his legs propped up on the passenger seat. It wasn't a comfortable arrangement, but it wasn't the first time they had slept this way. At least this time they didn't have their luggage to contend with as well. Of course, that meant they didn't have their pillows, either.
For some time after everyone else's breathing had settled into the smooth and rhythmic patterns of sleep, Max lay awake. As exhausted as he was, he was even more tired of running… and of wondering what Earthly or otherworldly menace would threaten him, his friends, and his family next.
Eventually, fatigue won out, and Max fell into a deep sleep that even his nightmares didn't dare trouble.
Kal Langley stepped out of the limousine, and into a small puddle of water. Things are not going smoothly, he thought.
He had taken a break from the press tour for his latest film to go on a "personal errand." His limo driver knew better than to question why they were at a seedy outdoor storage facility, and he was likely looking the other way now.
Langley stepped up to the rolling door of the storage locker and grasped the pair of locks on it. Strange. I only put one lock on it, and neither of these is it. A rumble in his stomach gave voice to the suspicion that knotted there. Has someone been in here? He put his hands over the locks and mentally pushed. A slight glow came from his hand, and the locks both clicked open.
He rolled the door halfway open, ducked under it, and closed it again. No use in giving his driver any reason to ask questions. His palm glowed, lighting the area. He could immediately see that things were not as he had left them.
There were more crates and cases than he'd remembered, and the crates he was looking for weren't there. Reaching over to one of the unknown cases, he ripped it open. Thick dust sloughed off from the lid. Inside the box were bags filled with bricks of a powdery substance. Cocaine. Why is there cocaine in my storage locker? Expending only a little of his strength, he ripped the wooden top off a long rectangular crate. Inside, the packing material padded guns. Not his guns.
Langley began pushing boxes and crates aside. Some of his materials were here, but the four crates that had held the Royal Four's pods were missing. Then, he spotted something on the floor. A dark stain, surrounded by other stains.
Kneeling, he put his brightly shining palm near it. The stain was dark brown, almost black, and he was reasonably certain it was blood. The other stains were more clear, like the trails that slugs left behind them as they moved.
Langley 's mind whirled. Given the dust on the floor and the boxes of guns and drugs, it appeared that no one had been in the storage locker for years. But whoever was here last had taken the crates containing the pods. And someone had been injured here, or perhaps even killed. It appeared that the pods had been opened, if the remnants of slime on the floor were any indication.
But were they all opened? Were they all alive and unharmed? Where are they now? Langley hadn't intended to awaken the Royal Four until they were fully mature. Extended gestation inside the membranous pods would nurture their alien powers, making them stronger and more powerful the longer they remained ensconced.