Cape Storm

on my back might be controllable for the moment, and I might be convinced that I was my own person, beyond Bad Bob’s reach for now, but I couldn’t really know. I also couldn’t guarantee that it would stay that way five minutes from now, much less tomorrow.

“So now I’m the enemy,” I said, and tried to keep my tone as dry as a good martini. “Fine. You know a good Demon tattoo-removal guy? And can we work in a day spa visit, while we’re at it?”

He didn’t laugh, and he didn’t take the opportunity to lighten up. “I wanted to tell you that if I think you’re slipping away, I won’t hesitate. I’ll kill you. I’ll have to. Understand?”

I did. There was no room for misunderstanding in this. We both knew the stakes, and we both knew the consequences.

“Yeah, I understand,” I said. “You’re sure you can take me if you have to?”

“I can,” he said. “And I will.”

I took a deep breath. “Okay.”

“The problem is, it would probably kill us both in the end, and we both know that’s not a good outcome.”

“I promise not to fight back.”

“You can’t promise. That’s the problem, isn’t it?”

“So what are you asking me, Lewis?”

“I want to put in a fail-safe. I need your cooperation.”

Fail-safe.

This was something I’d heard about, rarely. It was generally used on Wardens who’d demonstrated behavioral problems—those who were mentally unbalanced. A crazy Warden was a very dangerous thing, and fail- safes were sometimes the only way to be absolutely sure you could stop a Warden before it was too late and the body count was too high.

I’d never thought I’d be facing the possibility myself.

“Fine,” I said, and my voice sounded thick and strange to my ears. “Do it.”

“I also need your consent.”

I rolled my eyes. “Didn’t I just say do it?”

His smile was very thin, and not at all happy. “I need you to say more than that. Informed consent.”

“What, you think I’m going to sue? Fine, here’s the cover-your-ass speech: I hereby authorize you to put a fail-safe switch in my brain, to be under your sole control, which you can use to shut me down if I present a clear and present danger to those around me.” I heard the sharp, angry edge in my voice and tried to moderate it. “I give you permission to kill me. How’s that for consent?”

He gazed at me with compassion, and a good deal of resentment. “You know I hate this, right?”

“Yeah. I’m not a big fan of the concept either, but I get why it’s necessary, so let’s get it done before David finds out what you’re thinking about.”

We probably looked like we were just meditating together, in front of the peaceful roaring waterfall. Two friends, standing calmly together, getting our Zen on.

Lewis held out his hands, palms up. I put mine over them, palms down.

I had to stand there, open and horribly vulnerable, as Lewis’s Earth power moved slowly through my nerves, climbing my arms, my shoulders, lighting a bright fire at the base of my neck and spreading out over the cap of my head.

It sank in like a net of light. I couldn’t see what he was doing, but I felt it—a sharp, bright spark deep in my brain, quickly contained. My whole body jerked, and my eyes flew open, but I couldn’t see anything.

It took several seconds for my vision to come back. Just shadows at first, then smears of color, then a gradual definition to the edges of shapes.

Lewis’s face, intent and focused.

He sighed, and I felt the power drain away from me, heading toward my feet. It was a little like being embarrassed in slow motion, a wave of heat traveling through flesh until it terminated through the soles of my shoes.

“Done?” I asked. He nodded. “How does it work?”

“It’s a signature switch. I’m the only one who can trip it, and I have to do it a certain way, in a certain sequence.”

“And if you do, it’s lights-out in my head? Instantly?”

“Yes,” he said. He sounded beaten and very, very tired. “Lights-out.”

“No pain, though.”

“Very little. About like a pinprick. It’s over in about three seconds.”

“I can’t believe we’re even talking about this,” I said. “What’s to stop me from undoing it, especially if I go all Team Evil on you? And once I know, Bad Bob could know. He could just disable the kill switch.”

“I know,” Lewis said. He looked very sad, and very guilty. “That’s why I had to get you off alone before I did this. I needed to be sure I was the only one who knew about it.”

I didn’t get it. “But I know about it.”

He just stood there watching me, and the look in his eyes was intensely strange. “I need to say this,” he said. “Just this one time. I love you. I’ve loved you for half my life, it seems like. And I always will love you, even though I know it’s not possible for you to love me back. If you hadn’t met David, it might have been—things might have been different. But I know when I’m beaten.”

I was stunned. Lewis, of all people, was not a confessor. He didn’t blurt out his emo secrets, not to anyone, especially not to me.

“I . . . have no idea what you want me to say,” I said. “You know how I feel about you, you’re—you’re Lewis. God, why are you telling me this now?”

“Because I can. Because you won’t remember anything about it thirty seconds from now,” he said, and reached out and touched his finger to the exact center of my forehead.

“No—”

The world exploded into jagged shards.

What the hell had I just been saying?

I’d somehow managed to hypnotize myself by staring at the waterfall for too long. I shook off the blurring fascination and gave Lewis a doubtful look. “Jeez, I just spaced like mad,” I said. “I’m really tired. What was I saying?”

Lewis was leaning on the railing, staring into the falling curtain of water. “You were saying you’d die for us,” he said. “For the Wardens.”

You’d think I’d remember that. “Damn straight I would, bucko. Anything else?”

He seemed tempted to say something, but then he shook his head and shifted gears. I could tell from the way his body language changed, from contemplative to decisive. “Yes. I want a thorough check of every Warden. Make sure there are none of Bad Bob’s crew in our particular woodpile. When you’re done, interview the passengers and crew. I want everybody, absolutely everybody, checked out by you and David.”

So much for sweet, sweet bed rest. “That’s going to take all night.”

“Oh, at least. Let me know if you find anything.”

“You are such a bastard.” I sighed. “Is that all? Want me to build the Sistine Chapel out of paper clips in my spare time? You know, you didn’t need all this hush-hush privacy to tell me to do your scut work.”

“I know I didn’t,” he said. “I just wanted to show you the waterfall.”

I glanced at it. “Pretty,” I said. “Anything else, O Lord and Master?”

He continued to lean on the railing, staring into space. “That’ll about do it.”

I walked away, still wondering why the hell he’d dragged me here. Maybe he’d been about to ask me something personal. Maybe he’d been about to declare his undying love for me. Yeah, like that would ever happen.

Whatever it had been, he’d chickened out, and I could only think that was a good thing, given the