A tall, extremely thin black woman with startlingly white hair stood beside the table. Now and then she would reach out and touch a flag, pause, look to the ceiling, and then move it slightly across the map. Sometimes she touched a flag and then seemed to have second thoughts, shifting her spindly hand to another flag before moving it. Her arms were incredibly long. She blinked slowly at Jack, barely acknowledging his and his friends’ presence.
“What does it look like?” Reaper said.
“A war room,” Sparky said.
Reaper barely glanced at Sparky and Jenna before focussing on Jack again. They stood there in silence for a moment, cool subterranean breath wafting through the gap in the wall behind them. The stone and concrete had been melted and reset, and Jack wondered by what. A Superior, perhaps. But he would not ask.
“We need to talk,” he said to Reaper, and the tall man's expression did not flicker.
“He followed me,” Fleeter said. “Some Choppers found them, so I flipped and took them out…most of them, at least. And Jack followed me.”
“He flipped too?” Reaper said. He could not hide his surprise, and in that unguarded moment Jack saw something of his father. Just a flash, but it was there.
“I told you,” Jack said. “Nomad touched me. And you told me she didn't exist.”
Reaper—his father—stared at him. Jack felt like a child examined by an adult, a mouse being scrutinised by a cat. But he did not flinch.
“I saw her once,” Reaper said. “But I don't believe in her.”
“Maybe you're scared that she's more powerful than you?”
Reaper was silent for a long time, never once taking his eyes from Jack. The stare was a challenge; Jack stood up to it. Then Reaper said, “Perhaps we do need to talk. Fleeter, feed his friends, and show them where they can rest.” He looked up at Sparky and Jenna, his expression stern. “You're tired.”
No backchat, Sparky, Jack thought. Please, not now when we might be getting somewhere.
But Jenna said, “Yeah,” and Fleeter moved off to their left. Sparky and Jenna followed, and Sparky threw a glance back at Jack that said, Gonna be okay?
Jack smiled, nodded. Yes. He'd be okay.
“Where shall we talk, Dad?”
From the moment Reaper led him away from the war room, Jack felt a confidence that belied everything that had happened. Following the man who had been his father, he plunged into that tumultuous, ever-expanding universe of abilities and closed on one without even thinking, feeling its heat, sensing its incredible gravity. He smiled as it filled his consciousness, and he was suddenly awash in a sea of beautiful memories. These times with his family warmed and calmed him, and made him feel that everything really was going to be all right.
But they were not for him.
That's the first time I've used it without real effort, he thought. Nomad's scent touched his nostrils, her taste flooded his mouth. It was something amazing.
This was certainly no James Bond–style secret base. The subterranean rooms must have been flooded in the past, and a layer of moss covered the walls up to waist height. The place smelled musty and unused. Whatever the Superiors were doing here—and Jack was going to get to that—they were not concerned about comfort.
Reaper shoved a door open with his knee and entered a small room, beckoning Jack to follow. Inside were several folding chairs and a table covered with bottles of water, spirits, and tinned food.
“Drink?” Reaper asked. He snatched up a whiskey bottle and spun the top off, tipping it to his mouth and taking several deep glugs. He watched Jack sidelong as he did so, perhaps expecting or hoping for some reaction.
Jack smiled and pushed a memory…
The four of them on holiday in Center Parcs. Emily is only a baby in a pushchair, but already she has a laugh that consumes everyone around her. Jack's mother is sitting on a bench feeding Emily an ice cream, and he and his father are paddling a double kayak on the lake. Jack is in front, and with each stroke he deliberately flicks water back at his dad. There is shouting and splashing, and laughter, and as they steer away from the shore Jack feels something pulling him back. He's enjoying this so much, but he wants the four of them to be close together, within touching distance. They all feel like that. It's one of those perfect moments.