“Why are you here?” I ask. “And please, no bullshit. I’ve been ordered to work with you, but if you’re not 100% honest with me, I’ll feed you to Nemesis.”
“You mean, Maigo,” Endo says. I’m about to rip him a new one, when I realize that he’s not taunting me. He thinks of her the same way I do: part monster, part victimized child. “And I’m sure she would oblige you. After today, I mean.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Collins asks.
She didn’t hear, I realize. But somehow, Endo did. He knows exactly what happened and what was said. I lean to the side, looking at Endo’s ear. There’s a small device inside.
He confirms my suspicion, saying, “Your emergency network isn’t as secure as the DHS would like to believe. If you’d had Zoomb—”
“I know why you’re here, Endo,” I say, hoping to change the course of this conversation. “And I’m telling you right now, you’re never going to control Nemesis. She will never be your weapon. Or Zoomb’s. Orders from the President be damned, I won’t allow it.”
“I’m afraid you misunderstand our intentions,” Endo says. His voice is annoyingly calm and confident. “While I share your...infatuation with the monster, Maigo, I lack your...connection.”
I feel Collins shift behind me. She’s still not on the same page, but she remains silent.
“If the technology works, the U.S. Government will be paying Zoomb untold billions of dollars. I won’t be me controlling her, nor will any other Zoomb employee. The technology will be owned and used by your employers, a fact that will be kept secret from the rest of the world.”
“I don’t believe this!” Collins walks away for a moment, rolling her head from side to side. She returns, fists on hips. “You’re going to weaponize her?”
“She will be under the full control of a responsible government agent. Her actions will—”
“Who?” Collins asks. “What kind of an idiot would control—”
“Shit.” The word comes out as a whisper, but stops Collins in her tracks. She’s heard the whispered expression enough to know I’ve figured something out. “Shiiiit.”
“You know who it is?” Collins asks.
I look up at her, the weight returning to my limbs. “Me.”
17
My legs burn as I trudge up the hillside. Collins and I are out for a walk, while the blissful Watson and Cooper babysit Endo and Alessi. I figured a few minutes alone with the two lovebirds would be enough to wipe the self-righteous smirks off their faces. Also, I needed some time with Collins. Working together as a couple isn’t always easy. We spend a lot of time together. If things get tense between us, we suck at our jobs. So we try to work things out before they become things at all.
As usual, the first few minutes of our stroll around the streets atop Powder Hill—named for the civil war gunpowder house that still stands just up the street—are spent in silence. A year ago, the homes here were full of families. Kids roamed the hilltop in packs, playing hide and seek, playing dingdong ditch and breaking windows with balls of every shape and size. Now, there isn’t a child, man, woman or car in sight. Although the hill was cleared for residents six months ago, no one returned. ‘For Sale’ signs line the streets, and no one ever comes to look. Some people incorrectly worry about radiation or some other kind of poisoning leaking from the destruction that begins at the bottom of the hill to the east. Others worry, more accurately, as seen today, about a repeat. The suckiest part about those people being right is that I think it’s my fault we had a repeat at all. If I’d been somewhere else...
“So,” Collins says.
I shake out of my thoughts. I’m standing at a tall oak tree in front of a white house. A family used to live here. I remember them. Three boys. Two golden retrievers. Lots of noise. The home was a focal point for other kids. Always busy. Now the place is empty. The windows, blown out a year ago, have been boarded up. Shards of broken glass glitter in the tall, un-mowed grass. I place my hand against the old tree and peel off a shard of bark. I flip it over in my hands. The rough, diamond shape reminds me of the reflective scale-like ‘feathers’ that fell from Nemesis’s wings.
“What happened today?” It’s been nearly twenty seconds since her “So.” She’s afraid to ask. I suppose she should be. Being in a relationship with a man who attracts Kaiju is probably not the best choice. Mom, Dad, I’d like you to meet Jon and his 350-foot-tall baggage.