Magnus: Part 8
Plus, of course, even if I could somehow trust him, there were practicalities to consider.
Ray had died by some combination of accidentally grabbing a power line so hard that he broke through the protective covering, and Sean ramming a “Deer Crossing” sign through his chest.
Since Ray had lost the “copied Cabal powers” version of himself and lapsed into unconsciousness before the sign hit, I’d suspected that the electricity had killed him.
It was hard to know, though. Though regeneration would have gone away when he turned back to normal, he might have healed just enough to survive—maybe.
Even assuming he’d survived it, the “Deer Crossing” sign made it more difficult. Since we’d all go back to where we left the time stream, I had no access to the Sean of that era to ask him not to, assuming he’d listen to me.
Given that he’d stabbed Ray with the sign because Ray killed his father, I wouldn’t count on it.
“Here’s the problem,” I told Ray. “If you go down the way I remember you going down, you’re super dead. Playing dead isn’t an option. You’re winning, and no one else has a chance, and then everything flips in an instant. Give up before then, and you’d probably survive, but there’s no good reason for you to do it. Give up too soon, and you change history a lot. I mean, honestly, you being dead changes everything.
“I’m going to need more options than simply sending you back in time. We’ve only got one chance to get this right, so whatever I come up with has to be perfect. Plus, there’s one other thing. You were literally ready to begin the process of killing everyone that my friends and I care about when you died, and I can't let it happen. Being stuck in time here is still an improvement over that.”
Ray looked off to the side, his eyes glancing toward the frozen figures around us, all of them in action—running, dodging, flying, punching, or using their powers. It was hard not to compare it to a giant comic book splash page.
When he looked back at me, it was hard to read his face. His eyes and thin line of a mouth gave me no hints. His sigh, though, made me wonder how much he blamed himself for the situation.
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“Look,” he said, “if it makes you feel any better, I’m not yet the guy who did that. The plan, as I remember it, was to push you into working for Syndicate L for however long that lasted. I didn’t think it would last long. You seem capable. That’s why I made sure they had the money up front.”
It was good to know that he thought ahead when making a bad deal with someone.
“I know that sounds bad, but I wasn’t trying to kill you. I was serving my client even if they were fools. You, I respect. You’re effective whether you’ve got powers or not. That’s why I’m pretty sure you’ll come up with something.”
I looked out and found Daniel in the crowd. He stood facing a Cabal soldier who’d thrown a punch at him. Even from the middle of the room, I could tell it wouldn’t hit. A second Cabal soldier lay on the ground, sleeping.
“Here’s my first idea. You release the Mystic and the Mentalist from being frozen. They’ll find the time where things can start to diverge that makes the least difference and implant instructions to avoid your death that will be released at the right time to allow you to do it with the least damage.”
Ray’s face tightened. “Are you seriously suggesting that I let two telepaths mess with my head?”
I stared at him. “Are you seriously suggesting that I help a specialist in killing superheroes survive without taking precautions to prevent him from doing that? It would be one thing if you had a reputation for being trustworthy, but your reputation is for being extremely good at manipulating and then killing people like me.”
Ray held up his hands, “Yeah, yeah. I get it, but this is my head. They could put anything in there, force me to turn myself in, or put in triggers for anyone to control me like the Dominators do.”
Voice flat, I said, “If the Mystic thought that kind of thing was okay, he’d have done it the first time we fought you. If anyone here cares about not brainwashing you, it’s him.”
“That’s what you say now.” Ray shook his head. “I’ve met supers not much better than me. Hey, I admit I’m not the most trustworthy guy, but when I make a contract, I stick with it unless you screw me.”
Inside my helmet, I raised a querulous eyebrow. “You just told me you were planning on me ditching Syndicate L, and the way I remember it, you turned on Russ Hardwick and his people.”
He laughed, “Did I? I’m not up to that yet. Besides, none of those were a real contract. Syndicate L broke me out of prison because they wanted you and made me promise to get you. Hardwick was a means to put myself in a position to capture you and get out from under Syndicate L’s thumb.”
Ray mimed pressing a button and made a buzzing noise. “Wrong answer, try again.”