have died for them!"
He held up a hand to stop me. "No offense, but in a certain sense, if I tell you what I'm thinking or doing, I may be whispering it in Bad Bob's ear. You know that, don't you? Can you guarantee me it isn't true, or it won't be tomorrow?" That was a cold, hard slap of reality, and I smarted from the impact. He was right, of course - the black torch on my back might be controllable for the moment, and I might be convinced that I was my own person, beyond Bad Bob's reach for now, but I couldn't really know. I also couldn't guarantee that it would stay that way five minutes from now, much less tomorrow.
"So now I'm the enemy," I said, and tried to keep my tone as dry as a good martini. "Fine.
You know a good Demon tattoo-removal guy? And can we work in a day spa visit, while we're at it?"
He didn't laugh, and he didn't take the opportunity to lighten up. "I wanted to tell you that if I think you're slipping away, I won't hesitate. I'll kill you. I'll have to. Understand?" I did. There was no room for misunderstanding in this. We both knew the stakes, and we both knew the consequences.
"Yeah, I understand," I said. "You're sure you can take me if you have to?"
"I can," he said. "And I will."
I took a deep breath. "Okay."
"The problem is, it would probably kill us both in the end, and we both know that's not a good outcome."
"I promise not to fight back."
"You can't promise. That's the problem, isn't it?"
"So what are you asking me, Lewis?"
"I want to put in a fail-safe. I need your cooperation." Fail-safe.
This was something I'd heard about, rarely. It was generally used on Wardens who'd demonstrated behavioral problems - those who were mentally unbalanced. A crazy Warden was a very dangerous thing, and fail-safes were sometimes the only way to be absolutely sure you could stop a Warden before it was too late and the body count was too high.
I'd never thought I'd be facing the possibility myself.
"Fine," I said, and my voice sounded thick and strange to my ears. "Do it."
"I also need your consent."
I rolled my eyes. "Didn't I just say do it ?"
His smile was very thin, and not at all happy. "I need you to say more than that. Informed consent."
"What, you think I'm going to sue? Fine, here's the cover-your-ass speech: I hereby authorize you to put a fail-safe switch in my brain, to be under your sole control, which you can use to shut me down if I present a clear and present danger to those around me." I heard the sharp, angry edge in my voice and tried to moderate it. "I give you permission to kill me. How's that for consent?"
He gazed at me with compassion, and a good deal of resentment. "You know I hate this, right?"
"Yeah. I'm not a big fan of the concept either, but I get why it's necessary, so let's get it done before David finds out what you're thinking about." We probably looked like we were just meditating together, in front of the peaceful roaring waterfall. Two friends, standing calmly together, getting our Zen on.
Lewis held out his hands, palms up. I put mine over them, palms down.
I had to stand there, open and horribly vulnerable, as Lewis's Earth power moved slowly through my nerves, climbing my arms, my shoulders, lighting a bright fire at the base of my neck and spreading out over the cap of my head.
It sank in like a net of light. I couldn't see what he was doing, but I felt it - a sharp, bright spark deep in my brain, quickly contained. My whole body jerked, and my eyes flew open, but I couldn't see anything.
It took several seconds for my vision to come back. Just shadows at first, then smears of color, then a gradual definition to the edges of shapes.
Lewis's face, intent and focused.
He sighed, and I felt the power drain away from me, heading toward my feet. It was a little like being embarrassed in slow motion, a wave of heat traveling through flesh until it terminated through the soles of my shoes.
"Done?" I asked. He nodded. "How does it work?"
"It's a signature switch. I'm the only one who can trip it, and I have to do it a certain way, in a certain sequence."
"And if you do, it's