New Olympus Saga (Book 3): Apocalypse Dance by C.J. Carella Read Free Book Online Page B

Things had changed a great deal since then.
    “Very well, lady,” Ali told the stranger. “You got me here. Time to explain yourself.”
    “My name is Kiera Henderson. I took Dreamtime back in ‘71,” the woman explained. “I was fifteen, trying to be hip. I got off lightly; no major side effects, except for the occasional flashback, until forty years later, when I turned Neo. Late bloomer, that’s me. I guess I’m going to look fifty-five for the rest of my life.”
    “You look a good fifteen years younger than that, if that’s any consolation,” Ali said.
    “Thanks. Anyway, I’d been linked to Comatown all this time; basically the mental construct runs on the minds of everyone who ever took Dreamtime, and apparently their children as well. But when I got my powers I discovered I could interact with it; that’s my Neo power, the ability to communicate with a mental gestalt controlled by a handful of crazy hepsters. Truly awesome. Anyway, Jason’s mind just joined their little collective, and he was insistent I travel to Freedom Island, at my own expense no less, and get in touch with you.”
    “I’ll be happy to reimburse you for your expenses,” Ali replied. “Is there any way I can talk directly to Jason?”
    “He says I can let your mind enter Comatown, because you’ve been there before.” That had been one insane mind-trip, courtesy of a murderous Neo, during the rather eventful HeroiCon of 2010. Ali wasn’t eager to go back there, but this had to be important. She was sure Jason wasn’t doing all of this just so Ali would update his Facebook page for him.
    “All right, let’s do it.”
    “Very well. Just lay down and I’ll do the rest.”
    Ali did as instructed and Kiera knelt behind her head. Her hands touched Ali’s temples, and she felt a slight tingling sensation; a few seconds later, she was elsewhere, or at least her mind was.
    Jason was waiting for her in their old apartment in Legion Hall, back when they’d been a couple. The living room looked just like it had in the 1990s, cozy mismatched furniture and haphazard decorations – neither of them had been gifted with any skill at interior design. A Dizzy Gillespie poster on a wall clashed badly with a traditional Thai sculpture in front of it. Jason also looked the same, a tall slender man with a mop of unruly dirty-blonde hair over his head, his eyes hidden behind thick goggles designed to keep his telepathic probes from violating the minds of anyone he happened to look at. His grin when he saw her was also the same, and it elicited a wave of regret that made her eyes mist over.
    “Hello, Sandy.” Jason had been the only person who called her Sandy instead of Ali or Alessandra.
    “Jase. I’m so sorry.”
    “I appreciate the sentiment, but there’s no time for that right now. The attack on the Island wasn’t what killed me, Sandy. I was murdered. My cochlear implants blew up; that’s what tore my head off. I know all of this because my disembodied soul got a good look at myself before I started to head towards the afterlife, or oblivion or whatever happens to us when we die. Luckily I remembered Comatown and barely managed to make it there. Mouse and his merry gang of hepsters weren’t thrilled to have me, even after all these years, but they let me stay. The point is…”
    “Somebody booby-trapped your implants,” Ali finished for him. “And you can’t be the only one.”
    “Sandy, I think everybody’s implants have bombs in them. Including yours, which is why I wanted to meet you discreetly. If whoever did this twigs that you’re onto him, your head will blow up too.”
    “I don’t think they could have snuck up a large enough charge inside my head to kill me,” Ali replied.
    “Do you want to find out the hard way?”
    She shook her head. “It’s got to be Daedalus. I don’t remember who was in charge of the last cochlear implant upgrade, back in ‘03, but I’m sure it was either Daedalus or Doc Slaughter,