THE LAST NAME

REILLY CARROLL
MONTEREY, CA

The drive from Los Angeles had been hellish, as had the flight back from New York. He'd stayed a night in Oakwood's apartment, his sleep plagued by nightmares, and had cleared whatever residual stuff he'd left in Oakwood's apartment, and had driven back to JFK, with an appointment to go to Oakwood's funeral in Berkeley in a week. He'd boarded the flight, and landed in LAX.

A brief meeting with Brendan and Amy, and Reilly had set off to prepare for his first mission for them; meeting the last person on Oakwood's list. A woman by the name of Adriana Lions who lived in Minnesota.

Grace had left, he'd been told, the day before, off to 'discover her potential'. Though concerned, Reilly hadn't pushed the matter, instead deciding to travel to Monterey, to try and recruit Monica to come with him on one final trip together, to meet another Carrier.

And now there he was, at the gate leading into Monterey's renowned Seventeen Mile Drive, a scenic route snaking through acres of the most beautiful coastline on the Central Californian coast. The area, though a national park, featured several very expensive private residences, country clubs and a world-renowned gold course at Pebble Beach. The Parks worker in the gate booth stepped out, and Reilly swapped him five dollars for entrance to the Drive and a map.

Reilly tossed the map onto the passenger's seat, and accelerated onto the Drive.

He ignored the tourist stops, the lookouts, the picnic areas, skirting the Drive, glancing every now and then inland, hoping to see the house.

Finally, he saw it; a beautiful, cosy looking beach house, about fifty metres from the beach, across the Drive from the surf. A high, pointed roof, two stories high. The building was a metre or so off the ground, resting on stones and mortar. It had an elegant style to it, mixing old world with new.

Reilly turned up the driveway, coming to a stop just in front of the house.

He reached down, popping the boot, and slid out of the car. He walked to the back of the car, and opened the boot, reaching in and pulling out the sheathed samurai sword given to him by Kristian Darroch.

There was a crack, and Reilly jumped, lifting the sword.

Kristian had appeared behind him, a gun out and pointed at Reilly's chest. "Oh," he said, when he realised who he was threatening. "Sorry. I thought you might have been one of them."

Reilly nodded, understanding. "In a way, I guess I kind of am. I brought this for you," he said hefting the sword. "And I came to see Monica."

Kristian took the sword and smiled. "Thanks. Monica's inside." Kristian led the way towards the house, and up the front steps, to the large, glass-paned door. He opened it, and stepped aside, allowing Reilly entrance.

"Kristian," came Sophie's voice from beyond the house's lobby. "Who is it?"

"It's Reilly!" Kristian shouted.

The house seemed oddly unoccupied, as if too clean, but with too much dust lying everywhere. Sophie's head poked through a door, and she smiled at Reilly. "Hi. Are you here on Brendan's orders, or just for a visit? Oh," she added, seeing Kristian's sword. "They gave that back?"

"Yeah, I brought it," he looked at Kris. "Thanks, by the way. It probably saved Grace and I."

"Oh," Kristian said, smiling. "You're welcome. I have some moving in to do, so, please excuse me."

"Go right ahead," Reilly said with a shrug. He turned back to Sophie. "How's Monica?"

"Yesterday, once we landed, she went into a video store, signed up and rented ten kung fu movies. She's been watching 'em like crazy," Sophie said, leading Reilly into an expansive lounge room with a panoramic window overlooking the beach and the waves lapping the sand. "She's been able to copy every single thing she's seen. She had to break a lamp before I told her to chill. And I'm thinking of buying a dog."

Reilly laughed. "Any particular reason?"

Sophie shrugged. "I want a dog." A beat. "Here she is."

They rounded a half-wall dividing the room, and stepped into a small sitting area. In front of a giant plasma screen TV on crossed legs, Monica Wilkie was staring unceasingly at Michelle Yeoh whirl about on the television, not taking her eyes off the screen, being watched with barely hidden admiration by Kyle Smith, the small thirteen-year-old keeping a close eye on her every move.

"Monica," Sophie said, and the girl glanced up as she cut her concentration was cut by Sophie's voice. "You have a visitor."

"Who?" Monica asked. Then she saw Reilly.

She leapt to her feet, surging forward, and she hugged Reilly hard. He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed. "Hey," Reilly said, staggering as she almost pushed him over. "It's good to see you too, Wilkie."

"Shut up," Monica said, releasing him and stepping back. "Why are you here anyway?"

"I was just wondering if you'd like to come on a little adventure with me."

GRACE SCOTT & LACHLAN COLLINS
LOS ANGELES, CA

"Try again!" Lachlan Collins shouted. "What's my middle name?"

Grace Scott stared at him, her eyes wide, a manic glint shining behind them. She closed her eyes, extending her thoughts into those of the man before him. She felt so much, a rush of sensations and power like she couldn't imagine.

"What is it?" she heard him roar.

She pulled herself back in, searching for the one thing she needed to defeat him, to overcome him in this instance. His middle name.

Then she felt it. A white hot energy cut through her thoughts and she was thrown backwards, her concentration completely gone. She spun across the ground, and her eyes snapped open. Lachlan was holding out his hand, panting loudly, a spark shimmering across his palm.

"Good," Lachlan said, still panting. "But you still let me use my power."

"I thought I was going for your middle name," Grace said, trying to sit back up. Pain jolted through her as she tried to move. "You weren't supposed to use your power to block me."

"I think I was supposed to." He answered. "I never said I wouldn't. Try again."

Grace shut her eyes, concentrating. "Here I come." She forced herself into his mind, searching through every corner of his thoughts, looking for answers.

She saw flashes of his thoughts, and memories. She saw Greenland, younger, smiling proudly in the dead of night, and felt Lachlan's rush of satisfaction. She saw a teen boy, running, a bolt of lightning cutting him down in mid-step. She felt Lachlan's grief over doing this, as the boy landed unconscious on the pavement. She felt his hatred as he shouted at an older Greenland, and a sense of relief as he stood on the rooftop, overlooking the place where his mother had died.

"NO!" Lachlan cried.

She felt the electricity burst outwards from him. Grace opened her eyes, and sent a though through their telepathic connection. His eyes snapped wide, and his knees almost gave out.

STOP! She thought, and he did. The blue bolts of lightning died away. What's your middle name?

"Rhys," Lachlan answered, his voice scratchy, blank; entirely devoid of emotion. "My middle name is Rhys."

Grace cut the connection, and Lachlan sunk to his knees. He brought his hands up, and rubbed his eyes. "Good job," he said under his breath. "But you want to be careful when you try and force your thoughts on someone," he said, bringing his eyes up and looking at her. "You never know what you might force them to do."

"Should we go on?" Grace was surprised at herself. Had she really been so energized by her tiny victory?

"Not at the moment," Lachlan said, clearly exhausted

They were in Lachlan's penthouse apartment, the large, empty room they occupied formerly his entertainment area; all the furniture had been pushed up against the walls of the room. Grace had returned to the rooftop the night before, to find Lachlan already waiting for her. She had had no idea how he had gotten up there. Wasn't it supposed to impossible to get up to the roof without an access card?

It was then that he had explained the extent of his ability, electromagnetism. Not only could he launch bolts of electricity, he could create an electromagnetic field and then reverse the polarity, enabling him to hover.

He'd taken her down to the street below, a gentle levitating motion that had lasted for the few minutes it had taken to reach the pavement; she had wanted it to last forever. She could only imagine how it must be for Erin Eedy, soaring like an eagle.

Then he'd taken her to his apartment, worth millions of dollars a year.

He took her to dinner, and then back to the apartment. She'd gone to sleep, only to be roused before sunrise by Lachlan.

She had to admit to herself, that though he seemed cold and distant, he was rather good-looking, and seemed \genuinely interested in her.

After breakfast, they'd started their training.

Now here they were, at almost one o'clock in the afternoon, and Grace's control of her ability still hadn't gotten any better. In fact, she seemed to have closed herself off from it. Lachlan had explained how powerful she could be; she had the potential for power equal to or even greater than Chambers.

He'd asked her all about herself; her childhood, her time spent with Reilly, what her life's goals were. He left no room for Grace to ask questions, and she had the impression he would have dodged any questions she shot at him.

They had a quick lunch, before they got back to it.

Grace had a lot of ground to cover, and only three months in which to do it.

BRENDAN & AMY

"They're here," Amy Lamotte said, and Brendan Wunderlich glanced up as the first of four newly arrived agents of the late Louise Greenland's organisation entered the dead woman's cavernous office,

Both he and Amy still sat on the public side of the desk; both had refused to take Greenland's seat, though both hungered for the position it entailed.

The short, dark-haired form of Jordan Turley led the way, looking around somewhat jumpily as he entered. Lachlan Dickson, his long term partner, followed closely behind. Jordan, having the offensive ability of dehydration, was usually the lead in the field, and this translated into their day-to-day operations. Lachlan was the brains behind the pair, however, using his ability to find anyone he had seen to plan tactical operations.

Amy had never seen them in action, but she had seen glowing after-action reports, and had met them several times. She hadn't been surprised to learn of their romantic involvement, now it came down to it.

Brendan had worked with the two closely during his time in the organisation; he knew they would support him, no matter what.

"Welcome," Brendan said as they approached, just as the third agent entered.

Elena Moskovski, a short woman with a shock of brown curls and the ability to generate severe sonic shockwaves with her voice, followed Lachlan, smiling when she saw Brendan, and nodded curtly to Amy.

Finally, the thin, almost skeletal, form of Luke Bovill, a member for just three years, stepped through the door. It slid shut behind him. With the ability to manipulate his own musculoskeletal system, he could force himself through the smallest cracks in any surface. He nodded coolly to Brendan, and glanced out the corner of his eye at Amy, taking in her voluptuous figure.

Brendan smiled when he realised Bovill thought she hadn't noticed; Luke was, after all, easily the youngest in the room, and the most inexperienced.

"Just in case somebody doesn't know somebody," Brendan started. "I'll go through a round of introductions. Jordan Turley, Lachlan Dickson, this Amy Lamotte. Amy, this is Elena Moskovski and Luke Bovill. Do you guys know why you're here?"

Luke was the first to speak. "Because Greenland's dead."

Brendan winced, but Amy nodded. "That's exactly right. You four are the first agents to get back. We've called in everyone, from around the world, but it'll take a week or more to bring everyone together."

"So, why exactly are we here?" Lachlan said, confused.

"You're here because we're going to be determining the new direction we want this organisation to take in the future," Brendan explained. He glanced at Amy. "Including its new leader." He glanced at his wristwatch. "Excuse us, but we have a meeting."

There were some goodbyes, a promise of further information that night at dinner, and the four filed out of the room.

"Okay," Brendan said, looking at Amy. "Here we go."

Amy nodded, and stood from her chair, crossing to the nearest wall. She folded her arms, and leant against it, while Brendan straightened in his chair. The door opened again, and a woman, with long, dark hair stepped through, followed by a short, slim but powerful-looking man.

Brendan stood, smiling. "Senator, welcome."

Senator Daniel Stojanovski, a candidate for the Republican nomination for President in 2008, stood before him, impeccably dressed in a black suit shot through with light grey pinstripes. He wore a pressed white shirt and a saffron gold tie beneath. "Wunderlich. Where's Greenland?"

Brendan looked from Stojanovski to his tall, female companion; Laura O'Connor, Secret Service. He glanced back. "I'm sorry to tell you that Louise Greenland was shot and killed the other night in her home. Her personal bodyguard, Jake Nicholson, was also killed."

Stojanovski nodded, but Brendan could tell the death of his largest campaign contributor had most definitely fazed him. "Damn. What happened?"

"The LAPD put it down as a robbery gone horribly wrong."

"Is there going to be a memorial service?" Stojanovski asked, his concern clearly only cursory. All he wanted was his money; if anything, it was going to be the Greenland Corporation that got him elected President.

"No." Brendan said. "And I wouldn't worry about your money. The corporation has decided to keep funding your campaign."

"Oh," Stojanovski said, obviously relieved. "Thank you."

"We just brought you here to explain something to you," Amy said, revealing her presence to Stojanovski for the first time. As he turned to her, she lifted her hands, and they glowed blue.

"What the hell?" Stojanovski grunted.

"Laura," Brendan said, addressing Stojanovski's Secret Service woman. "You had better show him."

Stojanovski stared at Laura, shocked. "How do they know your name, O'Connor?"

Laura, her large, expressive blue eyes displaying sympathy for her boss. "You'll understand soon, sir." Suddenly, a light seemed to build up from under her skin. It sprang forth from her pores, a blue casing of energy enveloping her entire body, before hardening in a impregnable, flexible shield that fit to her perfectly.

"Mother of God," Stojanovski said, glancing from Laura to Amy to Brendan. "What are you people?"

"This is the reason we're supporting you in your campaign, Senator." Brendan smiled. "We're like you."

DULUTH, MN

Reilly and Monica moved quickly up the path that snaked through the garden out the front of the home of Adriana Lions; the last on the list of Mark Oakwood's Carriers of the Gene, and the only one unidentified by either Oakwood, Reilly or Greenland's organisation.

It had been a long trip, first driving to San Francisco, having lunch at Reilly's mothers, then catching a plane t o Minneapolis. Then a three hour drive to Duluth. Monica had spent most of it talking, espousing the virtues of her brand spanking new iPod Video, purchased for her by Sophie once arriving in Monterey.

Reilly glanced down at the sheet of paper in his hand, a list typed list of the twelve names Oakwood had managed to identify via the Human Genome Project. It had been annotated with Reilly's notes, having met ten of them personally.

Grace Scott – Brooklyn, NY. E/T

Erin Eedy – Manhattan, NY. (Greenland, flight)

Sophie Freeman – Syracuse, NY. (precognition; draws future)

Cameron Brown – Boston, MA.(Deceased, precognition; imminent)

Monica Wilkie – Sarasota, FL. (Enhanced muscle memory)

Kristian Darroch – New Orleans, LA. (Teleportation)

Adriana Lions – Duluth, MN. (NO INFO)

Emily Coleman – Boise, ID. (Greenland, missing, telekinesis)

Jake Nicholson – Las Vegas, NV.(Greenland, deceased, enhanced strength)

Amy Lamotte – Seattle, WA. (Greenland, AWOL, freezing)

Laura O'Connor – Phoenix, AZ. (Greenland???)

Louise Koller-Smith – San Diego, CA. (Deceased, enhanced memory (?))

Brendan had told him not to concern himself about Laura O'Connor; she had been identified, and was currently in the employ of the Greenland Corporation. Somewhere.

"You ready?" Monica said, as they neared the woman's front door.

"Ready as I'll ever be," Reilly said, lifting his hand, and secreting the list into his jacket pocket. He clenched his fingers, and pounded the wood.

Monica smiled, shivering slightly with anticipation.

The door opened, a tall, willowy young woman, about twenty-five leaning through the door frame. Her thick, wispy hair tied in a tight ponytail. She wide, expressive eyes that radiated an easy intelligence. "Yes? Can I help you?"

"Miss Adriana Lions?"

The woman looked from Reilly to Monica before answering. "Yes. Who are you?"

"My name's Reilly Carroll," he said, pointing to himself, and then to Monica. "This is my friend, Monica Wilkie. I'm a genetics student from the University of California, Berkeley."

"Can I help you?" she repeated, looking concerned.

"Actually, I think we can help you." Reilly said. "Have you been experiencing anything unusual lately? Or, not even lately; for months, years?"

Adriana cocked an eyebrow. "How do you know? Have you been watching me?"

"No," Reilly said, emphatically. "We haven't been watching you. A professor at UC Berkeley, a friend of mine, postulated that certain people had developed variations in their genetic coding that allowed them to express certain traits that may be considered super-human."

Adriana smiled, knowingly. "Is this one of them TV shows?"

Reilly couldn't help laughing. "I've had that kind of reaction before. But, no, this isn't a Punk'd thing. This is very much real."

"I'm one of those people," Monica interjected.

Adriana's face fell. "You're serious?"

Monica nodded. "I am. Reilly found me in Sarasota, and he saved me from a person who was hunting individuals like us, people with abilities. I can see any action once, and then copy it."

"Someone was hunting you?"

"She's dead," Reilly said, stepping forward. "It's a long story, Miss Lions, but Monica and I are here to help you deal with your ability, if you have one, and to offer you options."

"Which leads us to the most important question," Monica went on. "Do you have an ability?"

Adriana looked from Reilly to Monica, and back. "I might."

She'd shown them inside, gotten them lemonade, all of a sudden quite chatty. Finally, she sat down, on a couch across the living room coffee table from Reilly and Monica, and she got started, explaining what she thought might just be a superhuman ability.

"I'll start off by saying that it's nothing like flying, or telekinesis, or... what did you say Monica's ability was called?"

"Enhanced muscle memory," Reilly said, leaning forward slightly.

"Yeah," Adriana nodded, "It's nothing like that at all. It's kind of annoying actually."

"It doesn't matter," Monica said, quickly. "Whatever it is, it's awesome."

Adriana laughed. "Well, I first noticed it when my TV remote ran out of batteries." At this, Reilly's heart sank. Still, he kept his face neutral. "I put in new ones, and they wouldn't work. So I bought a packet of, like, ten. And they still wouldn't work. I used up the whole packet, but not one of them worked."

Reilly's disbelief was starting to creep into his expression, but Monica was still optimistic. "Go on," the girl said, nodding.

"So then I tried an experiment," Adriana said. "With my car. I started her up, just fine. Then I got out, opened the hood, touched the battery. I held my hand there for about thirty seconds, and I felt a little rush. And then I remembered, I felt the same thing with the batteries, when I touched them, except it was smaller, just like a little prickle on my fingertips. But the car battery... that was a rush. There's no other word for it. And the car just...died. Stopped working."

Reilly's eyes widened. "The battery was dead."

Adriana nodded, excitedly. "I couldn't believe it. I started thinking, maybe that rush was the power from the battery, coming into my hand. And then I stopped thinking that, because, well, it's insane. But, now... I'm not so sure."

"Energy absorption," Reilly said. "I have to admit, not what I was expecting, but it's definitely not out of the realm of possibility."

"Is anything?" Monica asked, smiling broadly. "Wanna see my power?"

Adriana nodded. "Any action, huh?"

Monica nodded.

"All right then." Adriana said. "Have you seen Kill Bill?"

"Like, a hundred times," Monica answered. "Which part?"

"The part with the knife fight at the beginning," the woman said, a curious smile plastered across her face. Then she hesitated. "Or, I don't know..."

"How about I do this?" Monica said, reaching into her pocket and pulling out her iPod. She scrolled through, before proffering it to Adriana. Adriana made a point of not touching the little device, but she watched the footage on the small screen intently. Something from a martial arts movie, Reilly saw, a series of twists and flips, each as intricate and varied as the next; a veritable Dance of the Seven Veils.

Adriana laughed disbelievingly. "If you think you can."

And then, to the surprise of Adriana, and Reilly, for that matter, Monica launched into a rendition of the leaps, and flips, and kicks, just as energetic, just as intricate, just as powerful. Then, she landed, and bowed, not even winded, not even in the slightest bit fazed, as though she had done it a million times before.

Adriana's jaw dropped.

Reilly clapped, laughing, as Monica bowed again.

"That... that's incredible," Adriana said simply, shaking her head. "Just...wow."

"Monica, can you give Adriana your iPod?" Reilly suggested, standing. "I just want to see this power in action."

Monica nodded, still evidently giddy from her showing off. She handed the iPod to Adriana, and Reilly sat beside their host, looking at the screen. The little green bar in the upper corner began shrinking immediately.

"Whoa." Monica said from above them, and she and Reilly exchanged surprised glances.

Finally, the battery was completely sucked dry. The screen went blank.

"Well," Reilly said, clearing his throat. "I guess the last name went pretty well." He pulled out the piece of paper, the list, and a pen, scrawling some information next to Adriana's entry. Two words: 'energy absorption'. Then, further off to the side, in capitals, he wrote 'LIST COMPLETE'.

LOS ANGELES, CA

"Thanks for taking me out to dinner," Grace said as she slipped into Lachlan Collins' dark penthouse, the mysterious blonde man sliding in behind her.

He turned on some lights as she walked into the training area they'd set up in the apartment's massive lounge room. Having eaten a fulfilling meal, she was ready to start practicing again.

Her getting Lachlan to reveal his second name had been merely taste of her ability's power; it seemed without depth, without limit.

"Eager, huh?" Lachlan said, following.

"Quite." Grace shot back. She was tired, yes, but she wanted to explore her ability, wanted to test the waters so to speak. "More of the same?"

"I'd like to try something a little more... relaxed." Lachlan said, and led Grace to the centre of the room. "Sit down, cross your legs."

She did, and he followed suit, sitting just half a metre from her.

"What are we doing?"

"I want you to reach into my mind, and find some memories that I've blocked."

"Blocked? Blocked how?" Grace queried.

"You know Julian Neave?" Lachlan asked. When Grace nodded, he went on. "He has, among other things, the ability to delete memories entirely. He can knock people out with a touch of his hands. And, he can bury memories. Hide them in someone's mind, to keep them from fully reliving the experiences contained within them. At my request, he exercised that particular portion of his ability on me."

"Why?"

"I have worked in my mother's organisation for a long time." Lachlan said, with a shrug. "I've done things I regret."

Grace nodded. "And now you want to remember?"

"Not particularly, but I think I should," the man said, sighing. "Besides, it gives us an opportunity to see if you can do it. I don't really want to go see Julian Neave at this point."

"Yeah," Grace nodded. She was about to say something along the lines of 'you shouldn't do this for me', but she knew she wanted him to; any exhortation to the contrary would have been an absolute lie. "If you want."

"I do." Lachlan said, taking her hands. He lifted them, placing her palms flat against his temples. "Now, close your eyes, and reach out with your mind."

Grace did as she was told; she sent a psychic probe emanating from her mind, into Lachlan's. "I'm in," she said, as his mind was laid bare before her. More emotions than before, more feelings, more memory, filled her from within. This was more than she'd absorbed in Tokyo, the day she'd collapsed for the second time, but she could handle it now. Still the feeling was pretty...intense.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Grace said, through teeth gritted in concentration. "Where's this memory?"

Then she saw it; a random collection of images, garbled, shrouded in a thick haze. Thick, but not impenetrable. Through the mess, she thought she saw a few familiar faces; Jake Nicholson, far younger, his hair darker; a red-haired woman she recognised as Abby Cone; she saw a flash of flame, and a smiling blonde woman, and a flash of lightning. Then, she saw Jake and Abby, together, looking on as though in hate.

Then the memory came back in a flash, the haze lifted.

She saw it all. The night in the train yard in Berlin, with Jake and Abby and a badly burnt boy. She saw Louise Greenland, far younger, cross the gravelled ground, and felt a surge of love towards her. She saw Greenland heal the boy. The boy ran, and she sent a bolt of lightning towards him.

Then it ended.

She opened her eyes and her hands fell away, severing the link. Lachlan was crying, his eyes jammed shut, tears running from the corners. Grace reached out, touched his shoulder.

He brushed it away, and stood, crossing to the windows overlooking the city, its multitude of lights shimmering in the darkness of the night.

Grace followed. "Hey," she said, as she got closer. "I'm sorry. What's wrong?"

"I hated that bitch," Lachlan said, his shoulders shaking with tears. "I hated her."

Grace wasn't sure what to say. "But, in that memory..."

"That bitch was used me since I was eight. Even when she had agents, she used me. You saw Abby and Jake in that memory. They were chasing that boy, and yet I was the one she made capture him." Lachlan closed his eyes, turning his head as fresh tears came. "And do you know who that boy was?"

Grace shook her head.

"Brendan Wunderlich." Lachlan said, shaking his head. "Brendan freaking Wunderlich, the man who's probably going to be in charge of the Greenland Corporation. Which means I can't work there anymore."

"Does he know?"

Lachlan nodded. "And he's made his peace with it. But I haven't."

She put her hand on his shoulder once more. "I'm sorry. But you have me."

"You just met me." Lachlan said, looking at her with a ghost of a smile.

"I don't need too long to figure out I like somebody, I guess," she said, one of her radiant smiles blossoming across her face. "You know, with the empathic thing going."

Lachlan laughed, wiping away tears. "I guess you're right."

Grace wasn't sure what happened next; she had a vague impression of leaning forward, before her lips met Lachlan's, and the next thing she knew, the two were locked in a long, passionate kiss.