down at him. She lifted a hand to him as if in greeting.
Barbara Baden. The Translator, the ace who could make anyone understand anyone else. The realization hit him a breath before the cold fury: she could turn language into a babel just as easily.
He screamed, a wordless cry, and started down the aisle toward the podium. Security moved to stop him; he shoved aside a quartet of burly men, his six arms sending them careening backward into the crush of reporters. The crowd scattered wildly out of his way, and he leapt up onto the dais as Jayewardene and Baden were ushered quickly through a door at the back of the room, as Tinker quickly and discreetly followed them, as Prince Siraj's men clustered around him and fled the dais, as Rusty and Kate watched uncertainly from their side of the stage, as Lohengrin's hand went to the hilt of his sword, as Fortune stepped directly in his path.
Michael shoved the man aside - hard, with a sense of deep pleasure. He reached with his top set of hands for the banner - to Michael, it now seemed to read E CIKWUGADF RO WIAKL - and ripped it from the wall, the canvas tearing and ripping. Behind him, he heard a sinister growl and a strange light flared, sending his spidery shadow moving on the wall.
"Oh, good," Michael said, turning to see the glowing form of the lioness of Sekhmet, her tail thrashing angrily. "You want to play, you fucking bug? Hey, I've been waiting for this chance."
The lioness spat fire and leapt at him and he went to meet her. They collided near midstage. Claws raked down Michael's arms, tearing deep into muscle and ripping into tattooed flesh as Michael shouted with the pain and the blood. The pain was catharsis; it gave him strength.
Michael grasped Sekhmet's paws with all six hands, letting the momentum of her charge take him backward, allowing himself to fall and roll as he used multiple arms and two legs to throw her past him. Sekhmet slammed into the podium, crushing it to splinters that sprayed the crowd as she tried to regain her feet. She gathered herself with a low, sinister growl; Michael began to drum madly, blood droplets flying from his arms, slamming waves of pure sound toward her, his throats tightening to shape it: as he had with the Righteous Djinn, as he had in the oil fields. The lioness roared and reared back with the sonic assault, a high and pained wail, then her haunches lowered as she readied herself to charge again.
Something slammed into the dais between them: a marble from Kate's hand. It exploded, tearing a massive hole that gouged a crater in the tile floor underneath. "Don't," he heard Kate say, and he wondered which one of them she was talking to.
The white-armored form of Lohengrin stepped in front of Sekhmet at the same time, his gleaming sword waving warningly. Michael looked at Kate, already with another marble in her hand. At the same moment, Rusty plowed into Michael from behind. "Cripes, fella," he heard Rusty say as the ace's huge, strong arms went around him, trying to stop as many arms as he could. "You gone crazy?"
Lohengrin, facing Sekhmet, had his hands up, though Sekhmet growled and paced furiously, her tail lashing. Her claws tore at the carpeted wood of the dais, but she didn't charge. Michael shrugged aside Rusty's bear hug, freeing himself. He stood, blood dripping down his arms and spattered across his body. Rusty was still holding one arm.
"Michael," he heard Kate say. He couldn't read her face. "I mean it. Don't."
He looked at Kate. And away. He'd understood her; he'd understood Rusty. He could read the letters on the shredded banner on the stage - which meant that Barbara was no longer using her power.
"I quit," he declared loudly, glaring at Sekhmet. "The Committee is a fucking travesty. We had something that was supposed to be wonderful and pure and moral, and you've turned it into exactly the kind of organization all those power-hungry tyrants and despots we're supposed to be fighting would create. I won't be part of it anymore. I won't fight for oil, I won't fight for money, and I won't fight for political power. I sure as hell won't kill more kids for any of those. I quit."
He put his back to the stage, to Kate, Rusty, Lohengrin, and Fortune. Without another word, alone, he left the