Throughout the world, Power Uppers are the hottest drug on the market. A single pill allows any Normie to obtain the power of a Super. The drawback? They're also highly addicting and the cause of most financial ruin.
Tayla wants nothing to do with s...
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Tayla stared at the dark circle, rimmed with light, above her. It was simple heavy iron, with spots of rust chipping away at the metal, nothing out of the ordinary, but it might as well have been Death himself. Her hands tugged on her lab coat, adjusting it as if it kept moving on her. She glanced to Corin who stared at a watch monitor on his wrist. He tapped away on the holographic screen, swiping in every direction possible.
"I'm still seeing the live feed," he whispered.
"I'm working on it." Mylars voice sprang through the tiny ear bud pressed into Tayla's right ear. "I need enough reel to run so that those monitoring the feed won't notice, that means letting the guards do a full round. Tayla, there's a Recruiter hanging out in the small room right outside the closet, want to practice taking it over?"
Tayla touched her ear as if that will make her voice come through clearer. "Make them do what?"
"Nothing," Corin said. "Make it go about its business, but make it yours to command if we need it."
Tayla leaned over and grabbed her wobbly knees. They'd gotten ahold of two lab techs three days earlier and Tayla found herself in control of the slightly awkward, very blind, tall, lanky brunette. She pushed on the glasses that felt at least three inches thick and just as heavy on her nose. They waited until the paralysis of the Chameleon Upper wore off before taking off in the dark, smelly, cesspool of a sewer.
She couldn't wait to get out of the sewer.
At the same time, she was feeling sick to her stomach. Above her were eight floors of laser guns, security cameras, Recruiters, yellow suits, and God only knew what else. The first floor was their only concern, it's where they kept the Supers and did all the testing. Most floors above were desk clerks, filing rooms, and little importance. That made it easier, but still difficult.
Control a Recruiter. A live, fully functioning Recruiter. The most she'd mustered in a week was to turn the broken Recruiter at Mrs. Hinley's off and on. Now they expected her to control one?
"Talk to me, baby girl," Mylar said.
"I'm okay."
"No you're not, talk to me. Forget Corin, forget what's above you, just listen to my fabulous voice in your head. What's going through your mind?"
"That I can't do this." Tayla closed her eyes, unwilling to look at Corin when she finally said the words allowed. He was counting on her. The Supers locked above her didn't know it, but they were counting on her. Max, wherever he was, he was counting on her. So many people were counting on her. And who was she?
A sixteen-year-old who didn't know she was a Super until a month and a half ago. She was a Super who had so many drugs stuffed in her system she didn't know what was her real gift and what they manipulated. Her biological father tested on her, her adopted mother lied to her every day—the only thing she knew for sure was she was angry. Angry and terrified of letting everyone down. Maybe if she had more time. Maybe if she had another Technoid as a teacher. Maybe, maybe, maybe.
