Unity Carl Stubblefield (read book TXT) 📖

She punctuated her last statement with a guttural growl that sounded fiercer than even she expected. The smile that stole across her face like a Cheshire Cat had its intended effect as the color drained from Elaine’s face.

A sudden realization made Elaine’s face gain a semblance of control. “You have to have an established residence. Can’t have custody of a child without one. I don’t know why you’re not with Purple Faction anymore, but if you’re not staying there, then I can’t in good conscience let Maddy roam the streets. I’m sure you understand.” She folded her arms, as if the argument was done.

“Oh, don’t worry about my accommodations. I have a place better than this… hovel. Now if you will fetch Maddy, and tell her to pack her things, I will have her back to you in two weeks, as per the agreement.”

“That’s not going to happen, Prime,” Elaine retorted, spitting the words as if they were a foul-tasting poison.

Prime raised an eyebrow. “Then you are in breach. Expect to hear from my lawyers. Good day.”

Gravel crunched underfoot as Prime did an about face and walked down the drive. Claws fully flexed as she tried to swallow down the pure rage she was feeling and keep it under control.

“And it’s Sanura now, Prime is dead!” she called over her shoulder, not looking back.

Elaine began sputtering curses and threats behind her back but they couldn’t touch her. She was finally free of this woman’s influence. She had been lying about having a place, but maybe Gus would let her use the manor as a place of residence. They had bonded a little bit at the hospital, right?

He was a good kid, a little young and inexperienced, but he had a good heart. She hoped he would; Elaine was right, not having a suitable residence might throw her plans to reconnect with Maddy. She needed to talk to Gus. And a lawyer.

Gus hovered over the coordinates and slowly set down. This was definitely the place. He could see miners milling about on the ground.

The Oracle’s voice echoed back to him. Seek earth, or something along those lines. He had done some research along the way and found out a bit about why Mengele might have chosen this spot. It turned out that this mine was deep. Deep enough to evade detection from satellite scans or probes with abilities. This mine generated a lot of things, but gold was its primary export. The enormous hole looked like a gigantic screw had been removed from the earth, a threadlike shelf spiraling inward.

Giant trucks were exiting the mine, carrying large loads of dirt probably meant for processing.

Gus saw workers finishing up for the day as twilight began to darken the sky.

He didn’t know if they worked in shifts or just during the day, but there was a lull in the traffic as stars began to speckle the sky. The tracker led Gus to a nearby hanger installation and Mengele’s ship was inside, with the door open and no apparent security. Beside it was a lift requiring a password to access. He activated Electric Mind and he found the password after sifting through some data.

While he began to feel more comfortable climate-wise, he was punished with a couple turns of the vice as his headache leveled up into pre-migraine pain levels. He summoned the lift and there was the squeaky whine of chains as the machinery came to life.

After a long wait, the lift finally emerged. It was basically an open platform, loosely caged in. And it was immense inside. The bucket could have held four Humvees, and Gus’s feet echoed on the metal floor as he walked in. He activated the lift and began the descent. The temperature began to increase as he descended, and he had to activate Energy Absorption as the temperature began to get hot enough to make him sweat. How do people work in this heat?

He would be glad when he could finally be free from pain. Not that fighting Mengele would make his headaches go away, but he figured that this would be more of a kamikaze run.

Getting the job done. One way or another.

Chapter Fifty-Nine

Locked Up

“Thank you, BoJack,” Tempest said as they loaded Gwen onto a gurney. BoJack looked haggard, obviously wrung out from using his powers so much to transfer Gwen to the Faction in the first place, only to have to do it once again. Tempest knew it took some of his own vitality to help others, but BoJack never complained. Still, he was more sullen than his usual chipper self, despite the weariness.

BoJack grunted in reply, turning to focus on Gwen. Liberty General was only thirty minutes away and Tempest had arranged transport. The hardest points were transitions. Beads of sweat sprang up on BoJack’s forehead as Gwen was taken off machine assistance and he had to compensate, pouring MP into his abilities maintaining her vitals.

“Let’s… go,” BoJack choked out, obviously under severe strain, trying not to bite on the blue gels he had chipmunked in his cheeks until he needed them.

They had opted for a medical transport, but the skyways were unusually congested today. Wasn’t that always how it was? Whenever you had to be somewhere in a hurry, that was when traffic was unreasonable, or you had someone in their 120’s traveling at ten miles below the prescribed speed. Even when the vehicles flew their damn selves, some idiots still manually set the speed to slower than normal. It was maddening.

Tempest looked back at BoJack, who was beginning to struggle. Maintaining Gwen had probably taken more out of him than he had let on initially. Was this too big of an ask, too soon?

Come on! Just go, lady! Tempest raged as the transport in front of him hesitated to turn until the flow changed to cross traffic. He tapped his fingers in agitation on the steering yoke. He did not like this feeling that pervaded everything he did lately.