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Pinnacle Plot: Days of Resonance Episode One

Brett P. S.


Pinnacle Plot

  Days of Resonance Episode One

  Brett P. S.

  Copyright © 2016 Brett P. S.

  All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  EPILOGUE

  Chapter 1

  Concert Crashers

  Champ de Mars, Paris

  “The Old Era of Resonance ended on the death bed of Magnanimous. Metallomancers no longer dominate the world, save for Magnum and the cryptic manufacture of Resotek. Those with powers may be few in number, but heroes emerge from the most unlikely places.” – Old UN.C. Order Knowledge Division

  June 2075, twenty-three years after the death of Magnanimous, the greatest fundraising campaign hosted by Fortune Strongholds to date ends with a benefit concert beneath the lights of Paris and the stars above …

  Caleb Johnson, age 29, unofficial employee of Fortune Strongholds and code-named Stone Keep. He walked like an ordinary human tonight. Caleb prowled Champ de Mars, the massive park district that stretched southeast from the base of Paris’ Eiffel Tower, beneath the waning light of a setting sun. Fields of green faded into the ambient glow of lanterns that lit up the park in colors of red, blue and gold, but he hardly saw much of the fresh foliage. What little he could had been trampled into the mud by 4Love’s rampant fans.

  They migrated from across Europe and still some from the Americas for a concert hosted by the prodigal child the woman Fortune had tasked him to protect, and he was beginning to think he’d jumped into more than he could handle. One man with a keen eye for observation might foil a plot in a small park district, but the concert spanned two-thirds of Paris, with cars and buses parked near the outskirts and traffic drawn to a near halt. His job was a fresh stain in a messy situation.

  Caleb shook his head and pushed his way through crying fans eager to see the concert start. If Pinnacle would try something, they’d do it early on and they’d hit exactly where it hurt the most, an assassination attempt on 4Love and her bodyguards. Caleb nodded towards a pair of Joint Forces patrol officers in black suits strikingly similar to his own uniform. He wore slim sunglasses and a functional earpiece to listen in on some chatter, but Fortune specifically forbid him from directly interacting with the Joint Forces. For now, he’d make use of their intel and intervene if a situation came to light.

  Waiting made him squirm. He pushed past a handful of bodies until he bunkered down in an advantageous position. A handful of meters apart from the stage and a decent gap from the line the Joint Forces held. Hopefully she wouldn’t drive them too wild. How good could pop music sound?

  Caleb carefully examined the men on point to his left and right. They stood up high on guard towers, surveying the fields with Resotek binoculars, model 16s, capable of distinguishing intent to kill with a concealed weaponized item. He recognized the curvature as one of Fortune Stronghold’s licensed properties. If memory served, the frequency for model 16s came from the resonance user, Guilt Trip, a resonance user with a danger sense for tools.

  Good choice. Much less toxic than X-ray specs and it got the job done, but the Resotek cores could only discern from a limited list of items and only under certain circumstances. For instance, the weapon had to be on the person and visibly concealed. It didn’t detect most Manipulators or those who intended hand-to-hand violence, very different from Guilt Trip’s original prowess. However, those guards could spot a pocketknife from half a mile away … if they were proficient with the devices. Caleb had some practice with a handful of Resotek devices, model 16s included, though he preferred to go without.

  Flaring pyrotechnics broke Caleb’s concentration, throwing fiery particles into the air, an erupting spew of fireworks. Sparkling colors danced around him and a bit of glowing dust settled into his hand as he caught some fibers. Caleb clenched his fist, suffocating whatever was left and directed his focus toward the stage. 4Love strode onto the center, a young woman with strong, confident stride and a wide gait. He took in the sights. The colors and fireworks set off around the park swirled into circles and dots that faded as quickly as they had appeared. Night had fallen. He squinted in the faded glow of lantern light. If it was going to happen, he told himself, it would happen now.

  Caleb’s attention darted to the four corners of Champ de Mars, frantically racing against time. He huddled closer to the stage to grant himself a clearer, less obstructed view, but it did little to aid his thumping heart or slow the beads of sweat trickling down his neck. Higher. He needed some altitude and at that moment, it hit him. He’d been so busy glaring at the stage, fixated on the park that he hadn’t thought to glance up during the full course of the afternoon. Caleb tilted his head and stared at a swirling mass at the peak of the Eiffel Tower, an ebony wrapping of mist, almost like a cloak.

  On instinct, Caleb moved toward the stage, but before he took more than a step, a bolt of lightning singed past him with a level of speed that rivaled his own. With a boom and a minor explosion that rocked the platform and drove the young woman back on her heels, a green, glowing, fiery empress materialized. The woman, clad in searing green flames, grabbed 4Love by the throat and hoisted her up.

  “How droll,” she said, choking the life from the woman. The Joint Forces gathered in place, weapons primed to fire at a clear shot. She wasn’t about to give them one, though, instead turning to face the crowd of onlookers suddenly grown still and silent. “Repulsa won’t savor the privilege of bringing this little one in,” she said and turned to look the girl in the eyes. “Pinnacle has a far better use of your talents …”

  A black cloaked figure flew down from above and kicked the woman square in the jaw.

  Chapter 2

  Smashing Entrance

  Champ de Mars, Paris

  “Resonance users manipulate resonance, a vibratory attunement that connects them with an aspect of their environment. The A.R.T. Factor Scale introduced by Artifice Industries describes levels one through five. By the year 2070, there are approximately ten billion people living in the world, fifty-six thousand of which are documented resonance users and numbers indicate few remain uncounted if any. Statistically, across populations, the following approximations are observed. 50,000 Factor Ones. 5,000 Factor Twos. 500 Factor Threes. 50 Factor Fours. Currently, the Old UN.C. Order documents only one Factor Five resonance user.” – Old UN.C. Order Knowledge Division

  Montana Knight, A.K.A. Monty Knight, A.K.A. the Ebony Knight. He had a number of aliases across social media and his blog, but in the cloak of his resonance, his foes knew him as disaster incarnate. Knight plummeted from his perch atop the Eiffel Tower at the opportune moment when the young starlet’s life hung in the balance. He needed to drop in with a smashing entrance after all.

  With a swift kick enhanced by his shadow cloak, he smacked the jolly green giant of a woman in the jaw, knocking her ten meters across the stage. He snatched up Fortune’s child by the arm in the process, cleanly removing her f
rom her former restraints before he set the child down. Knight nodded toward her and flared his cloak into expanding shadow that crept from him in loose flames.

  “Don’t worry, fair mistress,” he said. “I intend to foil Pinnacle’s plot against you.”

  “That’s my job!” shouted someone unimportant.

  Knight twitched as a young man leapt onto the stage behind them and cradled the startled woman in his arms. He must have moved very quickly, too fast for an ordinary person and with a vertical leap to warrant some attention, but he found himself focused on the woman overhead. Knight noted the agile gentleman’s suit and his similarity to the Joint Forces. Fair enough, but he’d tail them afterwards. This battle shouldn’t take long and with his dark speed, he’d catch up in moments.

  “Good show,” Knight said. “Take her to safety, and I’ll follow shortly.”

  “That’s my intention,” he replied.

  Knight grunted and focused his attention on the woman, who’d dug herself out of a pile of torn cloth and broken boards from the force of her impact. She shrugged it off, and he noted a thin green aura around her. He glanced back to find that Star and her guardian had vanished. Maybe it wasn’t going to be so easy after all.

  “I must admit, you have some resilience,” Knight said with a chuckle. He readied his cloak and a combat stance. “But you haven’t begun to taste my wrath.”

  “You’re quite talkative,” the woman said. “Live Wire’s the name. I don’t expect you to remember it, though.”

  “Then allow me to introduce myself,” he replied, taking a brief bow. “You may call me Sir Baron Lord Knight.”

  Live Wire crossed her arms and scoffed. “That makes no sense.”

  “You’re quite right,” he said with a grin. “Fortunately, I’m quite mad.”

  Chapter 3

  Graphite Rush

  Paris, France

  “Resotek refers to a number of enhancements that duplicate the powers of resonance users to a lesser degree. Not all powers can be duplicated and several factors go into creating a functional Resotek core. However, the technology requires the human element to operate, even with the proper trigger satisfied. Artifice Industries first discovered a means to copy strict aspects of resonance, quickly dominating the arms market. Fortune Strongholds caught on shortly afterwards and now develops observational technologies, self-defense weaponry and equipment for the entertainment industry.” – Old UN.C. Order Knowledge Division

  “Close your eyes,” Caleb whispered.

  The woman in his arms latched onto his shoulders with a vice grip and the shutters closed. Caleb exhaled and shifted the carbon inside his body, propelling himself at trans-human speed until the park was a glimmering afterthought behind rows of trees and the echo of fireworks. His graphite rush carried the two of them through mostly empty Paris streets and down alleyways. He stopped occasionally, examining his surroundings for the next burst.

  He could move more quickly than most resonance users, but he couldn’t process information on par with it, which left him nearly blind between stops. The troublesome quality of his powers did not sit well with him, but he compensated in his own ways. On the bright side, his passive defense rendered him invulnerable against a number of attacks … save for one in particular.

  He leapt atop the roof of a short building to secure a good vantage point. Caleb crouched on the sediment that lined the rooftop and released his grip on the woman. She seemed more human than he’d first guessed, but that was the thing about celebrities. They’re usually less impressive in person.

  “You can let go now,” Caleb said. “We should be at a safe distance.”

  4Love, the sixteen-year-old woman his dossier labeled as Star, gradually opened her eyes and hopped off. She hobbled back and proceeded to dust off her purple dyed hair and the ribbons around her dress. The pop idol squinted as she observed the light show near the Eiffel Tower. She frowned and turned to face him directly.

  “You’re not one of them,” she said. “I don’t recognize you from the list of Joint Forces.”

  Caleb chuckled. “There were a lot of us.”

  “You can’t fool me,” she replied. “I remember every single detail and you were not on the guest list.”

  Ouch. Hesitantly, he tried to sidestep the conversation. “Listen, it’s not safe here. Do you have a safe house?”

  “I’m not running away,” she said. “You’re going to take me back.”

  Caleb shrugged. “Out of the question, ma’am.”

  Star sighed and strode up to meet his eyes, staring at him for a moment before she turned and scoffed. He could almost imagine how wildly she rolled her eyes.

  “Let me explain this differently,” she said. “If I fail to deliver, it will cost France more than you can earn in ten lifetimes.”

  “You’re very persuasive,” Caleb spoke with a pause. “But I can’t. Fortune gave me no orders to continue your concert in the case of a Pinnacle attack. In fact, she very clearly stressed the opposite.” Star retained her posture and orientation, staring out into the starry blanket that cloaked Paris in its own lantern light. “I believe her exact words were: there are more important things than money.”

  Star, adopted daughter to the richest woman on earth. Would that make her Star Adamson? It sounded as if Star was a code name to protect her identity. In fairness, the dossier granted little in terms of background information and most of what he knew about Rebecca Adamson varied only slightly from public hearsay. For now, he kept his suspicions. The young woman standing in front of him was no ordinary person. Of that much, he could be certain.

  Star sighed and drooped her shoulders, turning around with an open hand outstretched. “You win,” she said. “You can take me to Fortune Tower. You could say my safe house is a pent house.”

  “That’ll be more than just a hop, ma’am.”

  “I know,” she said. “Think of it as a test of your skills.” She paused and smiled. “Or a job interview. You know, whatever floats your boat.”

  Chapter 4

  Lord Knight Fights

  Champ de Mars, Paris

  Knight released the restraints on his shadow tendrils as they consolidated around him and whipped about in the chilled night air. He smiled and tipped his hat to the woman, though she didn’t appear impressed or happy for that matter. He imagined Pinnacle rarely experienced the joy of victory. Inner monologue is quite a good trick, but the outer remains his forte.

  “Shall we dance, Miss Live Wire?”

  She smirked. “What a gentleman. I thought you’d never ask.”

  Her hollow tone implied sarcasm. How droll. Knight leaped upward, hoisted into the air by the collar of his cloak as the woman darted at the speed of electricity. He barely had time to blink before a shocking burst of lightning plummeted through his gut and forced its way through the other end. He felt the echo of the burst as if a solid mass had pierced his sternum. He cocked his head through the wrenching strain in time to see the woman materialize behind him. So that’s her game, eh? He’d heard of Transmuters before but never one so skilled. Pinnacle spared no expense when it came to hiring the very vermin they intended to squash.

  Knight whipped around and attempted to ensnare the woman in his cloak. She flew from his grasp, however, her essence bolting up the Eiffel Tower. He gave chase with his newest talent, the Shadow Step. It wasn’t so much walking or running as it was stepping into one patch of dark and out another. Instantaneous teleportation and without the ridiculous drawbacks that accompanied some other resonance users. He phased into the dark beneath him and popped out at the peak of the structure. Knight stood perched and in waiting.

  He studied the bolt of electricity rushing randomly about his perch and smiled. Her movements confirmed his suspicions. Whenever she maintained her elemental form, she lacked all sense of sight. Perhaps she could feel out the metal bars via their conductivity, b
ut she couldn’t see him at all, otherwise she’d have changed course. Excellent.

  Knight wore a wide-brimmed smile as he threw off his top hat and concentrated his shadow cloak around his right arm. The waves of dark energy pulsed with power until they formed a lethal blade of raw darkness. Knight hid himself in plain sight as Live Wire ramped up beyond the peak of the Eiffel Tower and materialized without a conductive surface on which to apply her trickery a second time around. He swung high and cleaved her in two.

  Chapter 5

  Coffee Break

  Grand Fromage Café, Paris

  Two days following the incident in Central Paris …

  Caleb stepped up to the front doors of Star’s favorite establishment, a little slice of Paris that makes the most delightfully robust Frappuccinos, or so he’d been told. He preferred a coffee now and then but generally stayed clear of caffeinated beverages. The nature of his resonance omitted certain effects on his nervous system, and he usually kept his body around a twenty percent increase in carbon density. A little went a long way, but the advantage was that some thug could sock him in his jaw and the jerk’s tiny finger bones would crack as if they’d smacked a rock full swing. He did have to worry about a few nuanced alternate effects, however. Keeping his body as dense as he did made him heavier, about time and a half, which led him to steer clear of crowded elevators and shoddy architecture.

  He’d known for a few years now that his resonance was tied to Carbon. He never had his tissues tested or anything like that. He just knew instinctively. Strangely enough, resonance worked that way for most users. With a scant few exceptions, resonance users held intimate knowledge of the nature of their powers, not by observation but because they felt some special bond towards their abilities.

  The Old UN.C. Order and Caliber held different explanations for the principle. The former established resonance in the mind, meaning it was like an extension of one’s imagination. Caliber believed resonance was force of nature guided by an individual’s consciousness. Caleb thought they were both full of themselves. His resonance was something inside of him. It was real and he owned it. He shouldered the burden of his powers and nobody could relieve him of his duty or tell him he was only along for the ride.