Steelheart (The Reckoners #1)

“He registers as a powerful Epic on the dowser,” Abraham said.

“We’ve tried it on Enforcement o cers before who had powers given to them by Con ux, and it didn’t register them.”

“What if he’s a di erent Epic?”

Tia asked. “With some powers gifted by Con ux to show he can give energy to things and make us think he’s Con ux? He could act harmless, then when we aren’t expecting, turn his full powers on us.”Prof slowly shook his head. “I don’t think so. That’s just too convoluted, and too dangerous.

Why would they think we would decide to kidnap Con ux? We could just as easily have killed him right there when we found him. I think this man is who he says he is.”“Why was he in the trunk, though?” Abraham asked.

“He’ll probably answer if we ask him,” I said. “I mean, he hasn’t exactly been difficult so far.”

“That’s what worries me,” Tia said. “It’s too easy.”

“Easy?” I asked. “Megan died so we could capture that guy. I want to hear what he has to say.”

Prof glanced at me, tapping the penlight against his palm. He nodded, and Abraham fetched a long wooden rod, which we tied the light to. We returned to the room, and Prof used the rod to touch the light to Edmund’s cheek.

Immediately the ashlight’s bulb started glowing. Edmund yawned, then tried to settle himself in his bonds.

Prof pulled the ashlight back; it continued to shine.

“I recharged the battery for you,”

Edmund said. “Might that be enough to persuade you to get me a drink …?”

“Two years ago,” I said, stepping forward despite Prof’s orders, “in July, you were involved in a large-scale project on Steelheart’s behalf.

What was it?”

“I don’t really have a good sense of time …,” the man said.

“It shouldn’t be hard to remember,” I said. “The people of the city don’t know about it, but something odd happened to Conflux.”

“Summer? Hmm … was that

when I was taken out of the city?”

Edmund smiled. “Yes, I remember the sunlight. He needed me to power some of his war tanks for some reason.”

It had been an o ensive against Dialas, an Epic in Detroit who had angered Steelheart by cutting o some of his food supplies. Con ux’s





part had been handled very


covertly. Few knew of it.

Prof was looking at me, lips drawn to a tight line. I ignored him. “Edmund,” I said, “you came to the city on what date?”

“Spring of 04 AC,” he said.

Four years after Calamity. That clinched it for me—most people assumed that Con ux had joined Steelheart in 05 AC, when Enforcement had

rst gained

mechanized units and the power outages of 04 AC had nally begun to stabilize. But inside sources that I’d carefully gathered claimed Steelheart hadn’t trusted Con ux at rst, and hadn’t used him for important projects for nearly a year.

As I looked at this man, a lot of things from my notes about Con ux were starting to make sense. Why was Con ux never seen? Why was he transported as he was? Why the shroud, the mystery? It wasn’t just because of Conflux’s frailty.

“You’re a prisoner,” I said.

“Of course he is,” Prof said, but Conflux nodded.

“No,” I said to Prof. “He’s always been a prisoner. Steelheart isn’t using him as a lieutenant, but as a power source. Con ux isn’t in charge of Enforcement, he’s just …”

“A battery,” Edmund said. “A slave. It’s all right, you can say it.

I’m quite accustomed to it. I’m a valuable slave, which is actually an enviable position. I suspect it won’t be too long before he nds us and kills you all for taking me.” He grimaced. “I am sorry about that. I hate it terribly when people ght over me.”

“All this time …,” I said.

“Sparks!”

Steelheart couldn’t let it be known what he was doing to Con ux. In Newcago Epics were all but sacred. The more powerful they were, the more rights they had. It was the foundation of the government. The Epics lived by the pecking order because they knew, even if they were at the bottom, they were still far more important than the ordinary people.

But here was an Epic who was a slave … nothing more than a power plant. This had huge rami cations for everyone in Newcago. Steelheart was a liar.

I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised, I thought. I mean, after everything else he’s done, this is a minor issue.

Still, it seemed important. Or maybe I was just latching on to the rst thing that drew my attention away from Megan.

“Shut it down,” Prof said.

“Excuse me?” Edmund said. “Shut down what?”

“You’re a gifter,” Prof said. “A transference Epic. Draw your power back from the people you’ve given it to. Remove it from the mechanized armors, the copters, the power stations. I want you to cut o every person you’ve granted your power.”

“If I do that,” Edmund said hesitantly, “Steelheart will not be pleased with me when he recovers me.”

“You can tell him the truth,” Prof said, raising a handgun in one hand so that it pointed out in front of the spotlight. “If I kill you, the power will go away. I’m not afraid to take that step. Recover your power, Edmund. Then we’ll talk further.”

“Very well,” Edmund said.

And just like that, he all but shut down Newcago.





33

“I don’t really think of myself as an Epic,” Edmund said, leaning forward across the makeshift table.

We’d made it out of a box and a plank, and we sat on the oor to eat at it. “I was captured and used for power only a month after my transformation. Bastion was my rst owner’s name. I’ll tell you, w a s he unpleasant after we discovered I couldn’t transfer my power to him.”

“Why do you suppose that is?” I asked, chewing on some jerky.

“I don’t know,” Edmund said, raising his hands in front of himself. He liked to gesture a lot when he talked; you had to watch yourself, lest you get an accidental ninja punch to the shoulder during a

particularly

emphatic

exclamation about the taste of a good curry.

That was about as dangerous as he got. Though Cody stayed near, his ri e never too far from him, Edmund hadn’t been the least bit provocative. He actually seemed pleasant, at least when he wasn’t mentioning

our

inevitable

gruesome deaths at Steelheart’s hands.

“That’s the way it has always worked

for

me,”

Edmund

continued, pointing at me with his spoon. “I can only gift them to ordinary humans, and I have to touch them to do it. I’ve never been able to give my powers to an Epic.

I’ve tried.”

Nearby, Prof—who had been carrying some supplies past— stopped in place. He turned to Edmund. “What was that you said?”

“I can’t gift to other Epics,”

Edmund said, shrugging. “It’s just the way the powers work.”

“Is it that way for other gifters?”

Prof asked.

“I’ve never met any,” Edmund said. “Gifters are rare. If there are others in the city, Steelheart never let me meet them. He wasn’t bothered by not being able to get my powers for himself; he was plenty happy using me as a battery.”

Prof looked troubled. He

continued on his way, and Edmund looked to me, his eyebrows raised.

“What was that about?”

“I don’t know,” I said, equally confused.

“Well, anyway, continuing my story. Bastion didn’t like that I couldn’t gift him, so he sold me to a fellow named Insulation. I always thought that was a stupid Epic name.”

“Not as bad as the El Brass Bullish Dude,” I said.

“You’re kidding. There’s really an Epic named that?”

I nodded. “From inner LA. He’s dead now, but you’d be surprised at the stupid names a lot of them come up with. Incredible cosmic powers do not equate with high IQ … or even a sense of what is dramatically appropriate. Remind me to tell you about the Pink Pinkness sometime.”

“That name doesn’t sound so bad,” Edmund said, grinning. “It’s actually a little self-aware. Has a smile to it. I’d like to meet an Epic who likes to smile.”

I’m talking to one, I thought. I still hadn’t quite accepted that. “Well,”

I said, “she didn’t smile for long.

She thought the name was clever, and then …”