Project Maigo(10)

He jumps back out of reach, standing casually once again, a smile on his face.

I groan, exasperated by his cocky attitude and the realization that he’s just screwing around. “Seriously?”

“Like I said, you’re going about it all wrong,” he says. “It’s not about brute force. It’s about intelligence. Knowledge. Technology.”

“Shut up, Steve Jobs,” I grumble, clenching my fists. “Sometimes a little brute force goes a long way.” I take a step toward him, trying to visualize my attack. My fist is about half the size of his head. Just one punch. One punch.

He takes a step away, and I think I’ve got him. He sees how pissed I am.

Nope.

He just wants to get in the last word.

“It’s about control,” he says, before tapping what looks like a small Bluetooth phone attached to his right ear. “Stop.”

The world goes wonky. I’m still aiming for his head, but my mind is telling me he’s floating away, hovering smoothly over the ground, a fixed distance from me. But that’s not the case. The truth is worse. He’s not gliding away, I’m no longer moving.

“Sit,” he says. “Don’t talk.”

I plop down onto the damp concrete, sitting in a rainbow swirled oily puddle.

I can move my eyes, but otherwise, I have no control over my own body.

He steps up in front of me, my life in his hands. With a broad smile he taps my head with his finger. “Control the beast. Save the world.” He steps back. “I hope the next time we meet, it will be under different circumstances. Our goals are aligned. Maigo is important. To both of us.”

I want to hurl four letter words at him, but I’m a statue.

He glances to the side, like he’s just heard something. He steps between a pair of containers and slips away. Ten seconds later, Collins appears. She looks unharmed, but pissed.

“What are you doing?” she asks, clearly annoyed.

When I don’t respond in any way except to stare at her, her mood shifts from anger to concern. She slows her approach. “Are you booby trapped or something?”

I move my eyes back and forth, doing my best to communicate a ‘no,’ and I turn my eyes toward my left temple, where Endo slapped me.

She looks at the side of my head and squints. “The hell?” Leaning in close, she reaches out, takes hold of something and tugs. A stinging pain lances through my head and I shout, “Oww!” Then I’m immediately relieved, because I can talk again.

I rub the side of my head, and my hand comes away with just a little bit of blood. Collins holds out a dime-sized device. Its surface is smooth black, but three golden prongs, tinged with my blood, extend from its side.

I’m about to ask what it is, when the thing starts to smoke. Collins flinches in pain and yanks her hand away. A jet of flame shoots from the side of it, but extinguishes as the device lands in a puddle. I quickly pick it up, hoping the fire and water haven’t completely destroyed the technology inside.

“What did it do to you?” Collins asks, helping me to my feet.

“Controlled me,” I tell her. “I would have done whatever he asked.”

“You’re okay?”

I nod. “He...just wanted to talk.”

“Be glad he didn’t leave you doing the running man dance.”

I smile, but the attempt at humor doesn’t really lift my spirits. “I know what Zoomb is after.”

She waits.

“Control…” I tell her with a frown, “of Nemesis.”





6



“We are now live outside the Sydney Opera House, standing atop the Forecourt stairs, which we’re told creates a natural amphitheater. This allows each and every one of the nearly one thousand audience members to clearly hear the Sydney Orchestra’s every note.” Olivia Jones gave the camera a smile and dipped her head to the right, letting her straight blonde hair swing out over one eye. The movement wasn’t intentional, but the newsroom knew it meant she was done talking.

The voice of Chuck Wilson, the studio reporter that only she and the TV audience could hear, spoke in her ear. “Very good, Olivia. I’m sure we’d all like to be there with you.”

Olivia nodded, like she agreed, but she wasn’t a fan of orchestral music. Had the concert been the B-52s or R.E.M. she would have been pleased, but when was the last time either of those bands played in Australia—or anywhere for that matter? “Absolutely. It’s going to be a fantastic night, full of magical music followed by fireworks and an exclusive after-party, where we’re sure to spot a few celebs and some of Sydney’s—”

“Olivia,” Chuck said, cutting her off.