Sakkara

“I will be, once we get to the States. I’ll finally be able to go home.”

Caroline said, “We’ve been over this before, Renata. It’s not going to be that simple. Your parents don’t know that you’re still alive.”

“We have to tell them at some stage!”

“I know, love, but not yet. Maybe when all this calms down.”

“If it ever does calm down,” Colin said.

Mr Sheng’s bodyguards stepped aside as the scarred man strode into the office. They knew he was unarmed; they also knew that being without weapons didn’t make him any less dangerous.

Sitting behind a polished ebony desk on which was nothing but a large flat-screen computer monitor, a keyboard and a mouse, Mr Sheng smiled. He was old and extremely thin, with an abundance of loose, hanging skin around his neck, the sign of someone who had lost a lot of weight much too quickly.

Behind him stood Junior, pale and nervous, unable to look Dioxin in the eye.

“All is well,” Mr Sheng said. “The meeting was abandoned. Our rival failed to appear. This has made her appear uninterested in the agreements. We will capitalise on this, use it to our advantage.”

“Glad to hear it,” Dioxin said, “considering the stupid stunt your son here pulled this morning.”

“He will be punished accordingly.”

“And?” Dioxin asked.

The old man frowned.

“I’m waiting for an apology for his actions.”

“My son has already apologised to you. I do not believe that an apology from myself is necessary.”

“It wouldn’t hurt,” Dioxin said. He leaned forward, spreading his scarred hands on the desk. “Look, Sheng. It’s business. I understand that. But your son not only tried to kill me – which is bad enough – he also insulted my intelligence and my reputation. So…don’t apologise if you don’t want to. I don’t care. But you should at least thank me for allowing him to live.”

“Then you have my thanks, Mr Dioxin.”

“And can I have my money, too?”

At a signal from Mr Sheng, one of the bodyguards handed Dioxin a slim white envelope.

“Two million US dollars, as agreed,” Sheng said. “Plus one thousand dollars to pay for the damage to your automobile.”

Dioxin opened the envelope and pulled out a single slip of paper on which was printed two seventeen-digit sequences of letters and numbers. He pulled the keyboard closer and swivelled the computer monitor so that it was facing him. The screen already showed the website of the international bank Sheng used to transfer funds. Dioxin quickly entered his details, then keyed in the two sequences of numbers. Seconds later, the balance in his account increased by two million one thousand dollars.

“A pleasure doing business with you, Sheng. Next time, the price is doubled.”

The old man nodded. “Of course.”

Using the mouse, Dioxin clicked on the website’s ‘Logoff’ button, and was about to push the monitor aside when he spotted something in the corner of the screen, in a small box labelled ‘RSS News’. Among the Chinese characters there was a single English phrase: ‘Titan Unmasked.’

“What the hell…?” Dioxin clicked on the link and a window opened to show an old photograph of Titan and Energy, side by side with the wedding photograph of a young married couple.

Dioxin turned to Junior Sheng. “What is this?”

“Internet.”

“I know that. What does it say? Translate for me.”

Haltingly, Junior translated the text on screen: “Mr Warren Wagner, revealed today as the true identity of the long-missing superhero Titan. His super-powered son is the new Titan. Also revealed are the two sons of Quantum, rescued from a crowd by the former hero Paragon. Mr Reginald Kinsella, newly-appointed leader of the Trutopian organisation, has offered the new heroes sanctuary among his people, in exchange for their help in saving the Earth from evil, poverty and corruption.”

“Enough.” Dioxin turned back to the old man. “Let’s make a deal, Sheng. You get me all the information you can on these people, and arrange for immediate passage to the US, and I’ll transfer the money back to you. Hell, I’ll even forget that your boy tried to kill me.”

Mr Sheng considered this. “Agreed. But what interest do these new heroes have for you?”

Dioxin stared at the screen. “I’ve got some old scores to settle…”

Warren Wagner ended the call on his mobile phone, then turned it off so that no one would be able to ring through. “Good news, for a change,” he said to his family and Renata. “Josh says that our passage has been fully cleared by the government. The transport’s already on the way. One of his people is going to stay here and take care of the house until we can arrange to sell it.”

“What about the Coopers?” Colin asked.

“Danny and Niall were picked up in town and their mother’s about to be collected from the flat. There’ll be someone watching their place, too.”

“Mr Wagner,” Renata said, “I don’t really like the idea of working with Josh. Not after what happened with his brother.”

“Josh is a lot different to Max,” Warren said. “He’s OK. You met him, didn’t you? I mean, before you were frozen.”

“Yeah. We captured Dioxin together.” Ten years earlier, Renata had been in her solid form when Ragnarök’s power-damping machine had stripped all the superhumans of their powers. She had remained frozen until a couple of months ago, when Maxwell Dalton had tried to duplicate Ragnarök’s machine: an accidental power-surge from the machine had somehow freed Renata from her solid state. Now, Renata was technically twenty-four, but physically still only fourteen. “Josh was only about twenty-three then, I think. But everyone thought that Max was OK, too and look how that turned out. He was prepared to kill thousands of people just because of one of Quantum’s visions.”

Colin said, “I’m willing to give Josh a chance. You can’t judge someone just because his brother is a nutter. Besides, it was Josh who sorted everything out after what happened in California.”

“What about the Trutopians?” Renata asked. “From what Reginald Kinsella was saying, we might be better off going to them instead. They’re trying to save the world without using violence.”

“Good luck to them,” Colin said. “But they can do it without my help. There was a documentary about them the other week. You know how they keep the peace? They have a system of points. You park your car illegally, that’s one point. Nick something from a shop, that’s three points. Play your stereo too loud, that’s another point. If you build up ten points, they throw you out. They just barge into your house, round up the whole family, put you on a truck and drive you to the gates. You know what that is? A dictatorship!”

“It’s not a dictatorship if there’s no dictator,” Renata replied. “It’s just peace at the cost of a little freedom. And it’s not like the people don’t know all that when they join.”

Colin’s mother sighed. “Can’t the two of you agree on anything?” To her husband, she said, “Two days ago they had a fight over whether the top part of a slice of bread was better than the bottom part!”

Warren laughed.

“Oh, that helps!” his wife said.

Under his breath, Colin muttered, “Top.”

“Bottom!” Renata said. “And I’ll tell you why—”

“Enough!” Caroline said. “The two of you, go upstairs and check your rooms one last time. Make sure there’s nothing there that you can’t leave behind.”

Reluctantly, Renata and Colin trudged up the stairs. They stopped on the landing and Renata said, “I think your mother is really worried.”

“The two of them are. I suppose we should be, too. But it’ll all turn out all right, won’t it?”