Reckoners 01 - Steelheart

what he was doing to Conflux. In Newcago Epics were all but sacred. The more powerful they were, the more rights they had. It was the foundation of the government. The Epics lived by the pecking order because they knew, even if they were at the bottom, they were still far more important than the ordinary people.
    But here was an Epic who was a slave … nothing more than a power plant. This had huge ramifications for everyone in Newcago. Steelheart was a liar.
    I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised
, I thought.
I mean, after everything else he’s done, this is a minor issue
. Still, it seemed important. Or maybe I was just latching on to the first thing that drew my attention away from Megan.
    “Shut it down,” Prof said.
    “Excuse me?” Edmund said. “Shut down what?”
    “You’re a gifter,” Prof said. “A transference Epic. Draw your power back from the people you’ve given it to. Remove it from the mechanized armors, the copters, the power stations. I want you to cut off every person you’ve granted your power.”
    “If I do that,” Edmund said hesitantly, “Steelheart will
not
be pleased with me when he recovers me.”
    “You can tell him the truth,” Prof said, raising a handgun in onehand so that it pointed out in front of the spotlight. “If I kill you, the power will go away. I’m not afraid to take that step. Recover your power, Edmund. Then we’ll talk further.”
    “Very well,” Edmund said.
    And just like that, he all but shut down Newcago.

33
    “I don’t really think of myself as an Epic,” Edmund said, leaning forward across the makeshift table. We’d made it out of a box and a plank, and we sat on the floor to eat at it. “I was captured and used for power only a month after my transformation. Bastion was my first owner’s name. I’ll tell you, was
he
unpleasant after we discovered I couldn’t transfer my power to him.”
    “Why do you suppose that is?” I asked, chewing on some jerky.
    “I don’t know,” Edmund said, raising his hands in front of himself. He liked to gesture a lot when he talked; you had to watch yourself, lest you get an accidental ninja punch to the shoulder during a particularly emphatic exclamation about the taste of a good curry.
    That was about as dangerous as he got. Though Cody stayed near, his rifle never too far from him, Edmund hadn’t been the leastbit provocative. He actually seemed pleasant, at least when he wasn’t mentioning our inevitable gruesome deaths at Steelheart’s hands.
    “That’s the way it has always worked for me,” Edmund continued, pointing at me with his spoon. “I can only gift them to ordinary humans, and I have to touch them to do it. I’ve never been able to give my powers to an Epic. I’ve tried.”
    Nearby, Prof—who had been carrying some supplies past—stopped in place. He turned to Edmund. “What was that you said?”
    “I can’t gift to other Epics,” Edmund said, shrugging. “It’s just the way the powers work.”
    “Is it that way for other gifters?” Prof asked.
    “I’ve never met any,” Edmund said. “Gifters are rare. If there are others in the city, Steelheart never let me meet them. He wasn’t bothered by not being able to get my powers for himself; he was plenty happy using me as a battery.”
    Prof looked troubled. He continued on his way, and Edmund looked to me, his eyebrows raised. “What was that about?”
    “I don’t know,” I said, equally confused.
    “Well, anyway, continuing my story. Bastion didn’t like that I couldn’t gift him, so he sold me to a fellow named Insulation. I always thought that was a stupid Epic name.”
    “Not as bad as the El Brass Bullish Dude,” I said.
    “You’re kidding. There’s really an Epic named that?”
    I nodded. “From inner LA. He’s dead now, but you’d be surprised at the stupid names a lot of them come up with. Incredible cosmic powers do not equate with high IQ … or even a sense of what is dramatically appropriate. Remind me to tell you about the Pink Pinkness sometime.”
    “That name doesn’t sound so bad,” Edmund said, grinning. “It’s actually a little self-aware. Has a smile to it. I’d like to meet an Epic who likes to smile.”
    I’m talking to one
, I thought. I still hadn’t quite accepted that.“Well,” I said, “she didn’t smile for long. She thought the name was clever, and then …”
    “What?”
    “Try saying it a few times really quickly,” I suggested.
    He moved his mouth, then a