Chapter Thirty

Hero's Call: Chapter Thirty

Milo was never made familiar with the customs of the An’Fari as far as death was concerned. Like most humans would have, he just assumed that they did something to remember the members of their race that passed on in some way like the people of Earth did. When he was informed that the An’Fari would be holding any kind of remembrance ceremony as it was not their custom, he was more confused than anything. Seven’s existence would be logged in the An’Fari death catalogues, and said record would be stored away until such time as another An’Fari expired and the record would need to be updated once again.

“It just isn’t their way, Milo,” Captain Amazing had told him. “They respect the dead, but they do not dwell on anything but the future. Seven knew the risks going in. He wouldn’t want his people holding a vigil for him. That’s not how they do things. I know it seems odd to us, but they’re an advanced species of the universe. Or so they say. Best not to dwell on it too much.”

But that wasn’t good enough for Milo. How could he not dwell on it? Seven had died because he didn’t act like he should have. If they’d just have let him go to New York like he wanted to, Seven would still be alive. It didn’t matter to him that it would have been him killed in the blast instead. His life for the life of a friend. That deal was all right by him. He’d make it any day of the week.

Milo and his friends had only known Seven for a short period of time, not much more than a month. Although the time had been brief, they had all made some kind of connection with their An’Fari teacher. He had showed Milo and Cali to harness and control their powers and had always answered Bill’s questions willingly about when his own powers would activate. The teacher/student relationship had quickly cemented all of them together as better friends and they could never just let Seven’s memory be tucked away on some shelf in a ship as it floated through the endless void that was the known universe.

Milo rode his bike through the empty streets of Buckland two days after Christmas. The town’s decorations were still up and burning brightly, trying to spread a little Christmas cheer even though the end of the world as they knew it was less than a week away. There had been no indication that any country, let alone America, was willing to bow to Destructo’s demands. Most were too prideful to submit, the others knew that they would be well protected by the bigger countries should it come to a war. It had come down to two possible outcomes: Milo and his friends finding and stopping Destructo, or the world tearing itself apart when the lights went out. Since no one had even the slightest clue where Destructo was holed up, the latter scenario seemed as inevitable as the sunrise.

Milo’s mind turned to the note that had been left on his door. Whoever had written was right about the Empire State rendezvous being a trap, so he reasoned that they had to be fairly well informed on Destructo’s movements. Unfortunately, they hadn’t signed the note or left any identifying mark anywhere on the scrap of paper. All he had to go on was the handwriting which he was absolutely sure he recognized, but could not for the life of him place it properly. He tried not to think about it too much. The more he struggled to remember, the more frustrated he got when the answer never came. It would either come to him naturally or not at all.

Milo wasn’t entirely sure where he was going when he had left the house but he was unsurprised to find that he had ended up on the long, lonely road that led out of town past Wilson’s Meadow. Thoughts of Seven had triggered a subconscious navigation system that took him to the place that Seven had showed him so much, but would never be able to show him more. In the waning sunlight, the snow covered field was an ocean of dimming white pock marked with shunts of grass that was too stubborn to lie down under the weight of the snowfall. Milo could just make out the small pile of hay bales that had been stacked near the center of the field. They were covered in snow and Milo thought they looked lonely, forgotten.

He dismounted from his bike and let it fall the ground. He hadn’t put on shoes made for trouncing through the snow, but the wet cold seeping into his socks barely registered in his mind. Out further into the field, Milo could make out sullen lumps that could only be the half destroyed hay bales that he had shot out of the air with his optic blasts during training. Further past them was the unmistakable shape of the downed Ash tree that Cali had nearly flown through on their first day. Milo smiled at the memory of Cali’s face as she dragged herself out of the tangle of branches and woodchips.

He plopped himself down on one of the hay bales stacked in the middle of the field and stared up at the stars. Up there somewhere, the An’Fari were going about their business as if Seven had never existed. Right then, Milo decided that he’d do something to remember Seven. He was Milo’s teacher, his friend. He lived on Earth and he’d remember his friend like the people of Earth did.

Milo stood up from the hay bale and walked five paces into the field. He turned and looked at the small pile of gathered hay bales. He unleashed an optic blast big enough to scatter the remaining hay bales to the outskirts of the field. There was a massive gouge in the ground where the hay bales had sat only moments before. The exposed dirt was a dark contrast to the pristine snow around it. It suddenly occurred to Milo that he didn’t know exactly what he was doing or how it was supposed to pay respect to Seven’s memory, but letting his power out unchecked had felt good, relaxing. He was about to let out another blast and dig further into the earth, but something caught his eye. Just on the edge of the fissure he’d cut with his first blast was a dull, rounded piece of metal.

Milo stepped into the fissure, the wet earth giving generously under his weight. The piece of metal was half covered in snow, its exposed half uncovered and hanging over the edge of the rut. Milo plucked it from the ground and brushed the snow and dirt off to find a small metallic disk not much bigger than a CD. There were no markings on either side or on the rim indicating what it was or where it had come from. Upon closer inspection, Milo found a small circle cut into the metal on one side. He reasoned that it was some kind of button since the area depressed slightly under his finger, but nothing happened when it was pressed. He also noted how the disc was warm to the touch even though it had been sitting in the snow for an undetermined amount of time.

“Hey, Milo,” a voice said from behind him.

Milo whirled around, startled. Bill was standing several feet away, his natural skin replaced with his metallic form. Milo had been focused so had on the disc in his hand that he hadn’t heard Bill approach.

“Oh, hey, Bill,” he said, breathing a sigh of relief. “You scared me.”

Bill looked sheepish. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Milo told him. “I just didn’t expect anyone else to be out here.”

“Felt like taking a walk,” Bill said, shrugging.

Milo noticed Bill fully for the first time. He had changed to his metal form, but the only thing he was wearing was a pair of mesh athletic shorts and a pair of battered flip flops. “Aren’t you cold?”

Bill shook his head. “Nah. The cold doesn’t bother me when I’m like this. It’s kind of nice actually. My mom has no reason to get angry with me if I go out without a jacket anymore.”

They both laughed uncomfortably.

“What’s that?” Bill asked, pointing to the disc in Milo’s hand.

Milo looked at it again and shrugged. “I don’t know,” he answered, and tossed it to Bill who caught it gently. “Look familiar to you?”

Bill turned the disc over in his hands several times before pressing the button on one side as Milo had done. He held it up to his ear and shook it gently as if hoping to hear something rattling around on the inside that would give him some clue as to what the disc was.

“Never seen it before,” he said glumly after he had inspected it thoroughly.

He tossed it back to Milo who caught it and slid it into his back pocket. It could have just been a useless piece of metal, but somehow Milo doubted it greatly. Something told him it wasn’t just a coincidence that the disc was found in the same field that Seven had done their training in. The fact that it never seemed to change temperature had Milo believing that there was a good chance the disc wasn’t made on Earth at all. It wasn’t unreasonable to believe that it had been left behind by Seven by accident or even on purpose. Milo wasn’t going to get rid of it just yet.

“So how are we going to find Destructo,” Bill asked suddenly. Milo was a little taken aback by the question. Neither Bill nor Cali had said much about Destructo since the incident at the Empire State Building. Milo had thought they were upset about the loss of their tutor as well, but trying to just let it go behind them so they could move on. He hadn’t thought about the fact that they knew just as well as he did that the end of the modern world was looming and that they wouldn’t want it happening anymore than he did.

“You don’t have to get involved, Bill,” Milo said sternly. “This is between him and me now.”

“Don’t be an idiot, Milo,” chided Bill. “You weren’t the only one that had gotten close to Seven. He was a friend to all of us. Besides, Destructo is a grade A psycho. You’re going to need some help and I’m going to be there. You can’t stop me. We have to have each other’s backs or we might as well just let Destructo have his way with the world because no one is going to be able to stop him alone. Now tell me what you’re planning.”

Milo knew Bill was right. He had taken Seven’s death personally, and it had blinded him to just how ill-suited to the task he was on his own.

“I don’t really have a plan right now,” admitted Milo. “No one even knows where he is. I can’t form a plan if our target can’t even be found.”

“I think I might be able to help with that,” Cali’s voice rang through the night. Bill and Milo’s eyes were drawn upward. Cali was speeding through the air in their direction. Much to both Milo and Bill’s chagrin, she had Xander holding tightly onto her back. It gave Milo a small sense of satisfaction to see a look of terror on Xander’s face as Calliope came in for a quick landing. He let go of her immediately and acted as if he had never been so happy to be on solid ground again.

“What’s he doing here?” Bill asked testily.

Cali glared at him. “He can help us,” she stated flatly.

“Oh yeah,” asked Milo with fake intrigue. “What can he do to help us? And I can’t help but notice you flew him here. So much for keeping those secret identities, you know, secret.”

“Oh shut up, Milo. You don’t understand everything,” she scolded him. Cali turned to Xander who shrank away from her as if she’d strike him for no good reason. She put a hand up comfortingly. “It’s okay, Xander. I told you, no one is going to hurt you. Just tell Bill and Milo exactly what you just told me.”

Milo had gone acting intrigued to being genuinely curious. What could he say that would make any one of them want to hurt him?

Xander looked at Cali uncertainly, and then to Bill and Milo. When none of them made a move to pound him into the earth, he calmed enough to gain a little courage and say what he had to say.

“I’m not who you think I am,” he offered candidly.

“Okay,” Milo replied, speaking slowly. “Who are you then?”

“My name is Xander Tabernacle,” he explained, “but that’s not the name my parents gave me. In fact, I don’t have parents. I was created in a lab. I’m a clone.”

“A clone of whom?” Milo knew the answer to the question before it had even left his mouth.

Xander sighed and took a step back, as if getting ready to run. “Czar Destructo.”

“You’re what?” Bill asked, rage contorting his face. He began advancing on Xander, but Cali stepped between them and put her hands on Bill’s cold metal chest. She dug her feet into the ground to keep him from moving.

“Wait, Bill,” he demanded. “Just let him talk.”

Bill regarded her coolly. “You’re lucky she’s here,” he hissed at Xander.

Milo could understand Bill’s anger. He felt it himself. But there was something keeping him in check. Something about the revelation that had him more interested in what Xander had to say than in sending him back the way he’d come by way of the emerald optic train.

“I’ve known you were actives since the day I arrived in Buckland,” continued Xander. “I was sent here with my mother who is actually an operative for Destructo. We were supposed to find you, gain your trust, and either convince you to join Destructo or kill you if you resisted. I knew that he was planning something big, but I had no idea exactly what his plans were. He never told us everything. We were just supposed to deal with you three.”

“So what changed?” Milo asked. The wheels in his head were turning. It seemed plausible, even believable. He had always known there was a reason why he didn’t like Xander, and now he knew what that reason was.

“Once he revealed his plan to the world, I panicked,” Xander said honestly. “I wanted to go to the authorities, but I knew Destructo would find out and have me eliminated. I knew my only choice was to warn you guys and hope you could do something. That’s why I left the note on your door, Milo.”

Instantly it clicked in Milo’s head. That was where he’d seen the handwriting. He could practically see Xander’s hand scrawling across the page of Mr. Hikalis’s exam. It was so obvious he wanted to kick himself.

“Why didn’t you sign it or give it to me personally?” Milo demanded. “Why be so secretive?”

Xander shrugged. “You would have asked too many questions. I worried that once you found out who I really was, you’d hand me into the authorities and Destructo would find out. I was a coward, then, but January 1^st is getting closer and closer and it doesn’t look like anyone is going to give in. I can’t let the world tear itself apart because I didn’t have the courage to say something.”

There was a moment of silence where Milo, Bill, and Cali regarded Xander unsurely. Milo knew his story matched up, but it could have also been designed to do just that. He had a choice to make that could potentially decide the fate of the entire world. Could he trust the spawn of Destructo or was it all a ploy to make him believe that he could?

“Get to the part about how you can help us,” Milo said, his decision made.

“I know where Destructo is,” Xander said immediately. His confidence was returning now that he could see Milo was on his side. “I can tell you exactly where to find him. The rest is up to you. All you have to do is find a way to New York. Once you’re there, it’s not that hard to find if you know what you’re looking for.”

Milo turned to Cali and Bill.

“Get home and grab whatever you need,” he told them. “Meet me at the retirement home in forty-five minutes. Cali, don’t let Xander out of your sight. He’s coming with us.”

Bill and Calliope looked at Milo in surprise, but neither of them were half as shocked as Xander.

“What?” he protested. “Why me? What more use can I be?”

“We’ve never been to New York before,” Milo said with a slight smile. “We’re going to need a tour guide.”