Not all that unlike what I’d been thinking about my own father. That his actions weren’t justified by his quite reasonable anger at the status quo. Except, he’d preyed on the population, and released murderers. While I’d saved lives, stopped criminals, and fixed the justice system which my own father had broken.

  To think we were the same just because the root of our actions stemmed from the same injustice, would be insane. Yet, that’s exactly what the various pundits were implying, that I was no better than any other supervillain out there.

  I wasn’t stupid of course. My father had an agenda, to make me in his image and for me to join him in the delusion we were above it all. To convince me we were better than other people, and that their prejudice earned them a position under our boot heels as well as our contempt. But we weren’t better. We were just more capable in an area that we weren’t allowed to be, even if no one ever spoke of it. The prejudice against telepaths of our power, and even the weaker ones, was our society’s dirty little secret.

  I was convinced most people didn’t even see it in themselves, and that it was the key to true change.

  That agenda also made it clear he was cherry picking the coverage he showed me, I hoped. Some of the news people had to be arguing the other side, but he wasn’t about to tell me about that part of things, it might give me hope after all and partially negate his argument. The fact he was showing me multiple partial segments just backed up that idea. I was almost positive he’d ordered Cake to find all the negative coverage, and to ignore the rest. So I was seeing the worst of it, not the mean. I was seeing the people that were truly blinded, to the point they couldn’t even see their own fear driven reactions for what they were.

  Prejudice against telepathic power.

  At least, I hoped that was true. I had to believe it. Maybe I was naïve, but there had to be some pointing out how effective I was, and how wrong the current laws without any provision for our abilities being used for good was.

  There had to be…

  But even if there wasn’t, that wouldn’t change what I believed, or what I fought for. I wouldn’t turn evil out of disgust, even if people were blind and my gamble with my future was lost. I’d never regret saving those lives, and stopping those criminals, even if I was jailed for it.

  If that made me a naïve martyr, so be it. My mother had raised me to fight for justice, and to protect others. That I was doing so contrary to unjust laws didn’t change that fact. I was nothing like him, and I never would be.

  In simple summation, I was moral in my actions, he was not.

  Chapter Twelve

  The shower was hot, and it felt good as I got clean. We’d been dancing around each other for days, arguing about morality, means, and justice. The devil himself, but in the end I came to the conclusion it all stemmed from one thing. He’d rejected the civilization he’d grown up in, and he’d come to think he was above the law. Above it all, so none of them mattered.

  It was how he justified all the evil he’d done, because no one else mattered but him, they were just prejudiced sheep that deserved to be sheered at his whim. They were all stupid and blind to the truth because they’d outlawed the use of the very powers that made him special.

  I could relate to his drivers, but his actions and beliefs it had led to were beyond reason or justification. At times I thought I might be arrogant, but his arrogant superiority knew no bounds.

  The man was proud of me for what I’d accomplished, and he had hopes I’d join him. He wasn’t going to be proud of me for very long, because there were only two choices. Either he paid for his crimes and went to jail, or he killed me. I didn’t think he was capable of letting me go.

  To be fair, I didn’t think I was capable of going even if he had been willing to let me walk away. My sense of justice demanded I at least try to take him down and bring him to justice. The FBI sure as heck wasn’t going to manage it, because my father hadn’t made any mistakes. His lair wouldn’t be discovered anytime soon.

  I supposed in a way we were two sides of the same coin, neither of us willing to compromise on our most passionate beliefs which were diametrically opposed to one another. In that one way, stubbornness to an ideal, we were the same.

  I saw good and evil, and he saw power and those that wanted to take it from him. To deny its use and belittle his existence.

  Which was about to be me. Either that, or I’d be dead. It was all or nothing, a great risk, but that’s what a superhero did. Not all fights with supervillains were all or nothing, most supervillains wouldn’t kill if they defeated a superhero. They’d just escape. But every superhero knows it’s a possibility, and every superhero has faced that all or nothing fight at one time or another.

  I knew it would come one day, since my mother had made that abundantly clear in my training. But it was what we did. We believed risking our lives to protect others and bring the criminals to justice was the path for us in life. I was no different, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous about it. In all my imagination I hadn’t conceived it would come so early, I was just sixteen.

  I hadn’t even been in love yet.

  I’d studied the layout of the underground base, and I’d noted where all the weapons were. Some were obviously gun turrets, others energy emitters of some kind. They were all over the base, my father was well prepared with defenses.

  It wouldn’t stop a large group of superheroes or agents, but it would slow them down. That’s really all he needed, enough time to take over their minds. Really, he was brilliant. Evil, but brilliant.

  Ironically, I was his only mistake. He shouldn’t have tried to recruit me, maybe the man was just lonely in his superiority and evilness. It was all I could think of, and it was probably just true. He was still human, and had been alone for forty years, save his rape victims.

  Maybe I was assuming, but I didn’t imagine my mother was the only one.

  Regardless, the only room that didn’t have weapons on the wall was the bathroom. So really, a mental battle while I was in the shower was probably the best place and best opportunity I could manage. The closest weapon pointing in my direction was on the wall in the bedroom he’d assigned me. But before it could kill me it’d have to get through a two-foot cement wall, and then the shower stall wall which looked pretty sturdy.

  Which probably gave me a minute or two, at least, to overpower his mind, take control, and make him order Cake to cease the attack and shut down.

  The most dangerous part of that plan was simply depending on my father’s pride. Without pride, I’d likely lose. Since all he had to do was teleport out of the bunker the second that I tried to get through his shields, and then simply wait for Cake to kill me before returning. He’d be out of my telepathic reach, and I’d be trapped in a deathtrap that was impossible to escape.

  I was gambling on the idea he’d be too arrogant and prideful to not fight me. I was gambling on the idea that he wouldn’t retreat from a teen girl. With a surge of guilt, I also realized I was depending on the idea he’d feel protective toward his daughter, even as I, in his eyes anyway, betrayed him. That perhaps he would try to win the fight, so he could reprogram me or something instead of killing me, which was horrifying to contemplate.

  That wasn’t reality though, it wouldn’t be a betrayal. We were enemies on the opposite sides, and betrayal can only come from comrades and allies.

  Yet… despite being the devil he was my father. It wasn’t easy, none of it was. But it was time to act, it’d been a couple of days and it was time to make a stand and end this.

  One way or another.

  I didn’t reach out, it was more like shooting a missile, as I sent my thoughts his way like a battering ram, my focus absolute. It splintered apart when hitting his shields, sending a stabbing sensation through my mind. A telepath’s thoughts were in a lot of ways an extension of our body, like a limb. So of course it hurt, when that limb was torn apart.

  I also knew I’d impacted him, and I’d been expecting my first attack to fail. I immediately followed up with a second attack, as my heart pounded in my chest. I was too focused to really be scared, but I was stressed and energized.

  The second attack broke up as well, and I felt relief as he returned the favor, even as the loud sounds of discharging weapons and energy filled my ears. The sounds of cement chipping rapidly, and explosions so loud it was deafening. If not for my super healing, I probably would’ve been deafened for life, as my ear drums burst.

  It was disorientating, but I focused and kept my shield up, while another thread of my mind continued to attack him with telepathic attacks. It was an advantage, being able to shunt my pain and disorientation into another thought stream, and focus perfectly on defense and offense simultaneously, in two other thought streams.

  It wasn’t even hard, since that was only three, and I was capable of doing twenty before I even felt the strain. Of course, that wasn’t an advantage in this case, since my father had the same capabilities as I did. The only question was who was stronger, and who was cleverer. He was certainly more experienced, but then he’d never faced an equal threat before either, so maybe not where it counted.

  I just knew my heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest, and I screamed as I struck out at him again and again. Hammering my mind against his shields, rebuilding the telepathic hammer each time because it broke time and time again. All while standing fast against his attacks.

  It took an eternity, or seemed to, in those thirty seconds.

  Then my mental hammer hit, and his shield cracked.

  I’d been ready for that, and a fourth thought steam had been on standby. I slipped a wispy and weak thought through that crack, then grabbed on.

  “Stop! Do not fight me!”

  The attacks stopped, and I let out a sigh. My head was absolutely killing me, but I’d done it. His mind was mine to command. I’d been stronger after all, and I imagined the surprise that had been on my mind hadn’t hurt my chances either.

  I mentally ordered him to shut down the weapons systems, and to shut down Cake, while I got out of the shower and started to dry off. It’d be harder to get back to civilization without Cake to teleport us. But leaving the A.I. online would be too dangerous. She probably had orders to rescue Branson if he was ever taken in custody, and who knew what kind of resources she had to accomplish such an order.

  If she was shut down, it’d be harder, but once it was done it would be done. No escape once he was in cuffs and sent to jail for life, and the FBI could tear the place apart at their convenience. Of course, that meant I couldn’t sleep, or lose my focus, until that was done. I wasn’t going to modify his mind, with triggers or controls. I wasn’t my father, and that kind of thing was evil. Controlling him directly though, and not modifying his mind, was moral in my eyes, and should be an exception in the law under circumstances such as these.

  I didn’t want to dive into his memories either, they were memories I really didn’t want to live the next fifteen hundred years with. So I’d be asking him questions, and demanding answers instead. The last thing I wanted to see was my mother’s rape from his point of view. If that happened, I was sure I’d blow out his mind like a candle, and let the worms have him. I was a superhero, but I wasn’t perfect, and I didn’t need that horror or temptation.

  Honestly, I kind of already wanted to kill him, but it wasn’t what superheroes did.

  I got dressed quickly in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt he’d had Cake fabricate for me, and then I walked over to the command center. I saw all of his surface thoughts, what he was thinking from moment to moment of course. So there was no need to verify Cake was shut down, and the weapon systems were inactive, including the self-destruct. I’d already done so, through his eyes.

  “Open the exit-vault door. Then you’re going to lead me to the closest road.”

  He nodded, “That’s about three miles through the wilderness. You know if I escape, I’ll have to kill you now. You should kill me.”

  I actually felt guilty because he’d sounded worried about me. How twisted was that? Didn’t change anything though, it just made it harder. It also disgusted me, that I’d feel any amount of empathy for him, the man who’d so wronged my mother and turned the justice system into a travesty. He’d done an unbelievable amount of harm in his lifetime, and he felt completely vindicated about it.

  But, empathy for others is one of the major things that separated us.

  I sighed, “Yes, it’s what superheroes do though. I don’t think you’ll escape anyway, and if you do I’ll just stop you again and put you right back.”

  He snorted, sure of himself. But in cuffs, he’d have no access to his powers, and I was positive he’d be spending the rest of his days in a prison cell.

  Then he said, “You’ll never be a superhero, you know. I pity you. So determined to protect and serve a society that doesn’t even want you, and that will never accept your powers.”

  “Shut up, unless I ask a question.”

  He smirked, clearly pleased he’d annoyed me enough to make me snap at him. He also had me as a captive audience, and I grimaced as he started to play memories in his head, knowing I’d see them. Of how he was treated when he’d quickened, and how it’d ruined his life.

  Like he was still trying to convince me to join him or something. I ignored it the best I could.

  But seriously, I was so going to need therapy for the next century.

  Past the vault door was another tunnel that slowly rose upwards. It came out into an unfinished tunnel of some sort, just rough stone. I knew from a stray thought of my father’s that the tunnel had emptied into a mine. A mine that had been closed after it played out in the late nineteen hundreds. No one would look there because it’d been closed for a hundred and thirty years. Having the name of the mine would also make it easy to refer the FBI to it, since I had no GPS device on me to record the coordinates.

  The three-mile dirt road to the state highway was overgrown with brush, bushes, and branches of trees, as well as more than one deadfall on the way that we had to skirt around, but it was still a better trail than any other we could’ve taken.

  “Which way, where are we anyway?”

  He replied, “Northeastern Montana. Just twenty miles south of Brush, which is a pretty small town, just over five thousand people. But we’ll hit a rest stop in just four miles. Not much there but a hotel and a couple of convenience stores, but that should be good enough.”

  Right, no gas stations in our time of course. Reactors had to be serviced, but they never ran out of dimensional energy.

  The rest stop would be good enough to contact the authorities that is. I’d just have to ask anyone there to call it in.

  We started north. I was a bit hungry, but four miles was nothing to walk with super-healing and an endless amount of energy. I was human normal in strength, but after being quickened my energy levels and healing ensured I could pretty much walk forever without a problem. Endless stamina save four hours of sleep a night.

  So I wasn’t worried about it. I just needed to keep my focus, or my father could still escape. But I wasn’t too worried, my focus was more than good enough for the job now.

  Just another hour, and this nightmare would be over. It would also be more ammo in the press. Save the FBI, fix the justice system, arrest over two hundred people in two hours, and take in the most infamous tier three telepath of our age. Not bad, for a sixteen-year-old with two more years of high school left, and I reminded myself not to get cocky.

  Hmm, I wondered if that attack in the jail had been because of the mob families. They probably wanted me dead, soonest. Not sure what made me think of that, my mind was wandering. Most of it, except for the thought stream focus on my father.

  A few cars passed us, but totally ignored my waving arms. Jerks. It only took an hour though, a very long hour while I had to endure watching my father’s thoughts and endure his attempts to influence me with his memories. Jerk.

  I felt pretty proud of myself when we arrived safely, and I got some old lady on the street to call the authorities for me. It wouldn’t be long now. Once he was cuffed, I could withdraw from his evil mind.

  Of course, my father wasn’t quite so resigned to his fate, as it seemed.

  Which I was about to learn about the hard way.

  It was my own fault, I should’ve locked him down with orders more, instead of just telling him not to fight me. He was an evil genius after all. Hindsight is twenty-twenty, and you live and learn.

  I mean, I was inside his thoughts, so I’d figured I’d know if he was planning anything. Except, he was obviously biding his time, and had a plan the whole time which he was carefully not thinking about.

  Honestly, I wasn’t sure I could’ve pulled it off if I was him, but then he’d been around a lot longer than me. Far as I could figure, he was around eighty.

  But there I go again, making excuses for my ineptitude.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It was a beautiful spring day. The sky a clear blue as far as I could see, and the sun warm on the skin with a lovely cool breeze. Which is why we saw the supers coming from a long way off, from the north. All four were flyers, one of them with a fiery red aura that told me he had a fire power.

  The other three were just as apparent once they got close enough, their thoughts clearly giving away their powers as they went through the exercise of what ifs in their heads, just in case it came down to violence. There were two with physical prowess, and the last one a decently strong telekinetic.

  That’s when my father struck, right as I was letting my guard down, if not my intense focus.

  His mind started dredge up memories of my mother, with the associated embedded taste of his feelings. His contempt and amusement, how she was a bug, but kind of a hot bug. He wasn’t suicidal enough to remember the actual rape, perhaps a display of the last shred of his humanity, but the sense of his superiority as he grasped her mind and crushed her will, enraged me.