Paranormals (Book 1) by Christopher Andrews Page B

want , your new eyes would just allow you to see. The two technologies are compatible, but the projects were originally developed separately. We would repair your vision first, and then the vortex and other abilities would require further adjustments and a second series of implants." Despite their privacy, his voice lowered even further. "The PCA doesn’t know about this yet, Steve. This would be my last favor to Joseph , not to them. You can have your sight back, and the PCA doesn’t have to know either way. Just you, me, and a handful of your father’s most loyal, trusted people — we all loved your dad." He paused, perhaps waiting for some response from Steve. When none was forthcoming, he continued, "It’s up to you , Steve. If you don’t want this kind of responsibility, there’ll be no pressure for you to change your mind. We’ll wait another few weeks, then present the vortex wave to the PCA like it has just been developed, and they can do whatever the hell they think is best. Or ... we can keep this under wraps and proceed our way, at our own pace, and then, when you decide you’re ready, you can join the PCA yourself ... and help them hunt McLane down to the ends of the Earth ."
     
    With that, Alan finally fell silent.
     
    Steve grappled with his thoughts. Did he want this? The morning he’d been attacked he’d been stewing over his future, but he’d certainly never envisioned spending it working for the PCA. He could just walk away, take his new sight and try to lead some kind of normal life ...
     
    Steve, who the hell are you trying to kid ?
     
    Who was he trying to kid? He couldn’t walk away. When he thought of his parents, John, Dan ...
     
    And Richard McLane ...
     
    "I want it, Alan."
     
    "Your sight?"
     
    " All of it."
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     

SHOCKWAVE AND TAKAYASU
     
    The drone shot one direction, then another, then another. Its tazer sights remained locked on their target, ready to neutralize its opponent at the first opportunity.
     
    Shockwave did not intend to give it that opportunity.
     
    The casual observer would have been confused at first. There was no obvious reason for the drone to hold back at all — Mark Westmore appeared to be totally defenseless. But a little more scrutiny would have revealed the subtle ripples in the air around him as the power at his command swirled to and fro, protecting each angle that the drone sought to lock in.
     
    Of course, Mark could have simply lashed out with a shockwave large enough to take out the drone and the entire wall behind it, but the assholes in charge insisted that this was a test of his "precision and accuracy," so he was waiting for a shot clear enough to hit the drone and only the drone.
     
    In an unexpectedly sharp maneuver, the drone zigged, then zagged, then zigged again, this time lower than Mark was prepared for. When his kinetic guard flowed the wrong way, the drone launched forward, its floatation servos turning it from a hovering craft into a speeding rocket. Mark threw himself to the side just in time — making a conscious effort, of course, never to drop his cocky grin — and twisted at the waist in mid-flight. Before the drone could reacquire, before he even hit the floor, he lashed out. Not with his fist, which he usually found was the easiest method for him to focus his waves, but with a single, pointing finger. A pencil-thin wave extended, punching a neat hole through the back of the drone. The device hit the floor ten yards away, but its circuits were dead long before its momentum.
     
    "How about that ?!" Mark called out to the room in general. "You wanted precise, you got precise! Who’s buyin’ the first drink?"
     
    "Thank you, Shockwave," a disembodied voice drifted from nowhere in particular. "That will be all for today."
     
    "That’s it, huh? No drink? You pussies ever heard of a celebration ?!"
     
    The voice did not deign to reply.
     
    "Tight-asses," Mark muttered as he climbed to his feet