Flash Page 9

  “It possessed… possesses a unique crystalline structure. Dr. Larson told me he had never seen crystals formed quite that way. He theorized that they exhibited extraordinary potential for energy storage. Claimed he’d find a way to tap into that potential.” Coolidge grunted. “That’s why I sold the thing to him in the first place. What a waste.”

  “How did you find the meteorite?” Cisco asked.

  “I tracked its approach to Earth, calculated where it would impact. And then I went and got it.”

  “Really?” Barry exclaimed more incredulously than he intended. “I mean, even NASA can’t pinpoint that sort of thing.”

  “NASA can’t do a lot of things,” Coolidge growled.

  “So you first heard it sing in Africa?”

  “No.” He jerked his head toward the open dome. “Up there.”

  “You heard it in space?” Barry asked. “You must’ve had excellent equipment.” A thought struck him. “Could you track it now?”

  “No.” The astronomer held up two fingers. “First, the meteorite hasn’t sung since I found it in Africa. And second, I don’t have those instruments any longer. I sold them in order to buy food.”

  With a scowl Coolidge set down his coffee, and picked some fuzz off his dirty sweater. He stroked his beard, seeming to realize it was badly unkempt. Finally he leaned against a metal desk, recalling the easy pose of an academic giving a lecture. But his hands tightened on the edge. Knuckles grew white.

  He took a long breath. “By the time I was your age, Mr. Allen, I had won the International Astronomical Society Man-of-the-Year. I had rejected offers from nearly every major scientific organization in this country. Just a few months before I found the meteorite, I turned down six figures to build and direct a state-of-the-art research station. And now I have only this. That meteorite ruined my career. ‘Dr. Coolidge and his singing rock from outer space.’”

  Barry stuffed his hands in his pockets. Cisco was already eyeing the door… and the shotgun.

  “All right, Doctor,” Barry said. “I’m sorry to have disturbed you. Thank you for your time.”

  “Fine.” Coolidge slumped down on a stool. “Go.” They set down the coffee cups and walked toward the door.

  “Would you like to hear it?” the astronomer asked quietly.

  Together they stopped, and turned.

  “Hear it?” Barry responded. “Hear the meteorite? I thought it was silent now.”

  “It is, but I have recordings.” His voice had an odd, faraway sound. “Would you like to hear them?”

  The two young men looked at each other, shotgun forgotten.

  “Yes!”

  “I have them here.” The astronomer straightened with new energy, and walked over to a desk. He yanked open a drawer and peered in, digging noisily through the contents. “I could’ve sworn it was here.” He began the looting of every drawer in the desk, then all around the observatory, cursing louder with each passing moment.

  Papers. Pencils. Power cords. Staplers. Calculators. Slide rules. All came out in piles. Then stacks of CDs and flash drives in all shapes and sizes. Portable hard drives, and eventually a huge collection of 5.25 diskettes.

  “It’s like a museum,” Cisco whispered. “I’ll bet good money he starts pulling out boxes of punch cards.” Finally Coolidge held up an old storage brick of some sort, and squinted at the label.

  “This is probably it,” he muttered. “I only have one copy left.” He grabbed a huge tangle of cords and went to one of the control panels. He inspected the connectors on the nest of cables, holding each of them up to a socket in the panel, before tossing them aside.

  “Ah-hah!” Coolidge slipped a cable connector into the odd socket with an audible click. Then he linked that cable to another and then to some sort of adapter that looked as if it should’ve come with a wall-mounted hand vacuum.

  “There.” Finally it all plugged into the small hard drive. The astronomer punched a thick yellow button on the control panel, and twisted a dial. Then he gestured for them to approach. “Here. Listen.”

  A squalling static filled the air, loud enough almost to be painful. Barry waited for it to pass and the singing to begin. The static continued. When he saw Coolidge listening intently, almost rapturously, realization set in. He looked to see if Cisco was getting anything more out of it.

  A bewildered face showed that he wasn’t.

  “Well?” Coolidge shouted over the noise.

  “I can’t really make anything out,” Barry called out hesitantly.

  The astronomer turned up the volume. “I don’t have the equipment needed to separate out the layers for you,” he said, “but you hear it, don’t you?”

  Barry leaned into the sound, trying to pick out undertones, but he heard nothing but a single, screeching, headache-inducing note. Coolidge looked beyond Barry and he punched the button to silence the roar.

  “I hear it,” a voice said from behind. “Clearly.”

  Barry spun and looked past the telescope. Hartley Rathaway lounged in the open door. The villain known as Pied Piper wore his dark pullover with a hood obscuring his features.

  “It’s a beautiful recording, Dr. Coolidge.” Rathaway smiled broadly as he raised his hands to reveal his destructive sonic gauntlets. “I simply must have it.”

  13

  “Who the hell are you?” Coolidge moved across the observatory floor toward the shotgun.

  Rathaway kept smiling, but his eyes narrowed. The air in front of his gauntlets rippled. The shotgun shook and broke into pieces. Coolidge glared toward the door.

  Rathaway pulled his hood back.

  “Now do you recognize me?”

  “Nope. Should I?”

  “What? I heard you talking before.” Rathaway jabbed a finger at Cisco. “You remembered him! Yet I was Harrison Wells’s right hand at S.T.A.R. Labs. Hartley Rathaway.” He paused for effect.

  Coolidge shook his head. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

  Cisco laughed.

  Rathaway scowled. “You shut up! What are you doing here anyway? Running errands for the Flash?”

  “Don’t be jealous, Hartley.” Cisco inched toward the control panel where the hard drive lay on a pile of cables. “You just have one of those forgettable faces. And careers.”

  Vibrations rumbled through the concrete floor. Barry tensed, ready to act. Protecting his identity wouldn’t be a consideration, if it came to protecting Cisco or Dr. Coolidge. Then a second figure appeared from the darkness. Shawna Baez. Her eyes darted attentively around the observatory, taking in everyone, and searching for others, most likely checking for signs of the Flash. Satisfied, she leaned forward over Rathaway’s shoulder.

  “Let’s get it and go,” she hissed. “He’s probably around somewhere.”

  Rathaway shrugged her back. “Dr. Coolidge, I’ll take that recording.”

  “I don’t think so,” the old astronomer responded.

  Rathaway strolled in with a snide grin while Shawna stayed at the door, peering out nervously into the night. He placed one of his gloved hands on the thick white barrel of the telescope, then faced Coolidge.

  “I want you to walk over to that counter and bring me the recording. I want you to hand it to me. If you don’t, I will destroy your telescope. Maybe then you’ll remember my name.”

  “I wouldn’t give you the time of day,” Coolidge replied.

  Barry studied the layout of the observatory. While Rathaway had more raw destructive power at his command, and he was a huge jerk, Peekaboo was the first priority. She’d been the key to keeping the metas out of his reach. Once he took her out of the equation, catching the others would be much simpler.

  The lights. If he could knock out the two weak bulbs that lit the observatory, it might be too dark for her to teleport—at least temporarily.

  “Just take the thing, Hartley!” Shawna called out nervously from the door. “Let’s go before the Flash shows up.”

  “No!” Rathaway shouted back. “I w
ant him to place it in my hand.” He sent a hard shock through the telescope. The sound of cracking glass rang through the observatory. Coolidge let out a hoarse bellow and rushed Rathaway, swinging wildly. The hooded man grabbed the old man, but still took a solid shot to the jaw.

  Rathaway snarled and sent out a shock wave.

  Coolidge’s mouth flew open, and he shook violently.

  “Cisco, run!” Barry snatched up a nearby floor lamp, pulling the cord from the wall. He swung the solid brass pole like a bat. It hit Rathaway with a crack, shattering the bulb.

  Shawna appeared beside the desk. Her hand fell on the pile of cables. There was nothing on top of them.

  Cisco ran with the hard drive, ducking under the telescope.

  Barry dragged Coolidge out of Rathaway’s grip. His arm vibrated just from the contact. As he pushed the astronomer out of the way, Rathaway quickly recovered and put a hand on Barry’s chest, sending power thundering into him. Pain stabbed his head and his limbs went numb.

  Cisco paused in his flight and gathered up the long cable trailing behind the hard drive. He looped it over Rathaway’s head, tightened it, and pulled hard, catching Rathaway by surprise and dragging him off his feet.

  Barry stumbled away, breathing hard, his vision blurred. He dropped to one knee.

  Suddenly Shawna teleported next to Cisco. She grabbed the hard drive, but he shouted in alarm and clutched it tight against his chest. They both vanished…

  …and reappeared across the observatory. Wide-eyed with shock, Cisco kept his grip on the drive. The two disappeared again. They showed up in yet another spot, still grappling. Cisco screeched in alarm, but he didn’t give up the goods.

  And they were gone again.

  When they reappeared, Cisco gasped, “Wait!”

  Peekaboo paused. Frantically Cisco kicked over the other floor lamp that stood nearby. It teetered and fell to the concrete. The bulb smashed and the observatory plunged into darkness.

  “No!” Shawna cried.

  Barry whirled toward where Rathaway had been standing, but the room spun. He was still dizzy from the sonic attack. By the time he had regained his equilibrium, and his eyes began to adjust to the dark, Rathaway had moved.

  Powerful vibrations began from behind him. There was the sound of crumbling masonry, shattering glass, and the creaking of agonized metal. The huge white shape of the telescope fell toward Coolidge and Barry. Trusting the darkness to cover his actions he moved to Coolidge’s side, kneeling, scooping the man up, and streaking away just as the giant telescope crashed onto the cement floor where they had been. It rang like a cathedral bell.

  Barry deposited the senseless astronomer safely behind one of the metal desks. As his vision grew even more accustomed to the dark, Barry saw a faint shape outlined against the pale wall. Pied Piper pointed his gloves blindly, each sonic blast shuddering the building. Large cracks appeared in the plaster.

  Rathaway gestured in his direction, and Barry dodged a random blast, but then a wave of force slammed into him, crushing him against the wall. Blood pounded in his ears. He couldn’t focus.

  He couldn’t move.

  “Stop it!” Shawna cried out. “If you hit the hard drive, you’ll wreck it!” There was a scuffling, which meant she was still struggling with Cisco.

  The vibrations ceased immediately, leaving Barry to fight for breath as he slumped to the floor, gritting his teeth. Grinding pain let him know ribs were broken.

  Rathaway scrambled to where Shawna had Cisco doubled over in a hammerlock. Cisco reared up, butting him in the head with an audible crack, knocking him away. Shawna cursed, distracted by Rathaway’s shout of pain. Cisco broke free and legged for the door.

  Barry fought onto his knees, as the pain and nausea subsided. His friend stood silhouetted in the gray rectangle of the door. Unfortunately that provided Peekaboo with enough light to maneuver. She appeared outside, Cisco whirled, and she punched him square in the nose.

  He flew off his feet and hit the concrete so hard his breath whooshed out. Shawna stomped on his stomach, bending over to tear the hard drive out of his hands.

  “Hartley! Let’s go!” She backed away from the door and Rathaway staggered after her, stepping heavily on Cisco as he passed.

  Barry took a deep breath and prepared to run after them when another sickening wave washed over him. Thick vibrations tore through the observatory. The heavy sheets of metal covering the dome rustled and filled the air with a sound akin to thunder. Chunks of plaster and cinder block began to fall.

  Barry shoved a desk aside and grabbed the astronomer by the collar. He hefted the dead weight and ran for the door, reversing course to avoid something metal that fell in front of him, dodging rivets that popped into the air like bullets, and spinning to avoid twisting girders that crashed from the roof.

  He leapt over Cisco to carry Coolidge into the cold night air. Settling the astronomer against the side of the van, he raced back. The dome of the observatory sagged with a groan. Cisco floundered insensibly on the floor just as a long steel beam detached from the dome and hurtled down toward him. Barry grabbed the engineer and dragged him out before the jagged girder crashed to the floor.

  Leaving Cisco next to the insensible astronomer, he made a quick search of the area, but didn’t find Rathaway and Shawna. That wasn’t surprising. They had what they’d come for, and had no interest in lingering.

  Barry returned to the van and crouched next to Cisco. His head throbbed and his vision sparked as if he had a migraine. Across the open lot, the observatory wrenched itself into a ruin, piece by piece.

  Cisco groaned and tried to sit up. He took his hand away from his face to reveal a bloody nose and eyes that were already starting to bruise. Barry whistled at the damage. Cisco touched his nose and winced.

  “Oh, man,” he said. “She beat me like a rented mule.”

  “Your nose doesn’t look broken.”

  “Oh, great—yeah, I guess that’s somet’ing.” Cisco held his head back and pressed fingers on either side of his nose to stop the bleeding. “I got my clock cleaned by Peekaboo. I might want to change her name now to Valkyrie or the One-Punch Wonder.”

  “It’s okay, buddy,” Barry said. “I’ve been hit by her, too. She packs quite a wallop.”

  “I’m not sure this helps the prospects of me and Ms. Baez becoming man and wife.” Barry gave a painful laugh and turned to inspect Coolidge.

  “He looks like he’ll be okay, but we should get him to a hospital.”

  “I’d suggest a heavy sedative before anyone tells him what happened to his observatory,” Cisco said wryly.

  Barry dragged himself to his feet, and then helped Cisco up.

  “He definitely won’t like that.” They lifted Coolidge by the shoulders and ankles, lugging him around the rear of the van.

  “I’m not happy to see Hartley Rathaway involved.”

  “Me either,” Barry agreed. “Don’t we still have his old sonic gauntlets at S.T.A.R. Labs?”

  “Yeah. He must’ve made new ones. Better ones.” It looked as if every word hurt when he spoke, but he didn’t let that stop him.

  “It explains a lot. When you combine his smarts with Peekaboo’s powers, I’ll bet that’s why you haven’t been able to find the metas using your tracking algorithms. He’s using her power to move his pieces around in a mathematically random fashion. Man, he’s smart.”

  “And a major league jerk. I’m the guy he tricked into letting him out of his cell at S.T.A.R. Labs when we had him captured before. Plus, he just hates me.”

  “Well, you did replace him as Dr. Wells’s right-hand man.” Barry shoved equipment aside in the rear of the van and they positioned the astronomer as comfortably as possible. “Rathaway’s the type who holds a grudge.”

  “Oh, he preserves grudges like tar pits preserve mammoths. What do you think he wants with the Singing Meteorite?”

  “I wish I knew.” Barry covered Coolidge with several blankets. The dust from the col
lapsed observatory was clearing in the mountain breeze. “Nothing he’s involved in can be good.”

  The senseless destruction over the previous days made more sense now that they knew the Pied Piper was involved. He was brilliant and tactical, and had to be running the show. Whereas Mardon and Nimbus had seemed to be causing random havoc, it had to be part of a larger plan.

  Barry wondered if Rathaway had anything to do with the glitches in his powers. Could they have been a side effect, caused by the vibratory waves? Probably not—he hadn’t experienced any of the symptoms while facing his foe in the observatory.

  When Cisco slid into the driver’s seat, Barry saw him more clearly in the dome light. His face was covered with blood and his eyes were already purple. Barry hissed with concern.

  “Oh, man. Are you sure you can manage? Maybe I should drive.”

  Cisco waved him off.

  “Please. I’ve been punched harder by scarier girls.”

  Barry laughed, which made his head hurt again. He put a hand briefly on Cisco’s arm, and then climbed into the back to sit next to Dr. Coolidge.

  14

  Iris reached for her coffee on the desk. It was cold. With a sigh she took a few sips of it anyway, then scanned the information on her screen. Grumbling, she typed in a new search parameter.

  She and Caitlin had stayed out later than she’d planned. They’d had a lot more to talk about than she’d thought, but it was worth it. Still, Iris had dragged herself out of bed and come into the office early. The bullpen area at the Central City Picture News would normally be nearly empty this time of day, but the ongoing metahuman-spawned disasters were putting pressure on the press. The drone of light chitchat and clicking keyboards surrounded her.

  Since the day they discovered that Kyle Nimbus and Mark Mardon were back in town, Iris had been hunting. The thought of monsters like that in the same city as her dad made her gut twist into a knot. It was Nimbus particularly who scared her; he seemed inhuman and completely unpredictable.

  Everyone was looking for the rogues. Where Caitlin and Cisco’s methodologies focused on cameras, police reports, and predictive modeling, she employed a far simpler approach.