Powerless

By Jacqueline Pretty

How far would you go for power?

When Hanna was eight, her older sister burst into flames-the first of her siblings to get superpowers. Eight years later and Hanna now has three other superpowered siblings, while she remains disappointingly

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pandora Books
• Release date: Jun 13, 2023
• ISBN: 9780645712308

Jacqueline Pretty

Jacqueline Pretty is the author of Powerless, which won the 2022 Killer Nashville Claymore award for the best unpublished book in the Young Adult category and was shortlisted for the Chanticleer Book Reviews Dante Rossetti Young Adult award. An Australian and a travel addict, Jacqui has lived in five countries and travelled to over forty. The fictional city of Kakslinna in Powerless is inspired by Tallinn, Estonia, where she lived for three years. She currently lives in Melbourne, Australia, but her heart dreams of returning to Europe. | Website: jacquelinepretty.com | Instagram: @jp.writes | YouTube: jpwrites

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PROLOGUE

When Hanna was eight and Maria was ten, Hanna heard her sister scream in the woods.

Maria? Hanna called, scrambling out of the long, midsummer grass where she had been hiding—waiting for Maria to find her.

Maria screamed again, and Hanna bolted down the narrow, dirt path, ducking under the low-hanging branches and trying not to tumble when her ankles tangled in the undergrowth. Sudovia was abundant with greenery in the summer—branches heavy with leaves and crawling plants bursting forth after lying dormant under the snow for six months—beautiful to look at, but another obstacle in Hanna’s way.

Hanna followed the sound of Maria’s shouts and stumbled into a small clearing with a bonfire at its center, and no one to be seen. She frowned at the sight. Midsummer’s Day was a time for family and friends, and bonfires were a part of that tradition. You didn’t just leave them alone. Even she knew that.

Maria? Hanna called again.

A voice came from the fire. Hanna, I’m here!

Hanna jerked back, her eyes narrowing. She slowly approached the fire. The heat radiated across the clearing, grass browning and curling around its base, the air impossibly warm. Sweat pricked Hanna’s skin as she moved closer, squinting to make out the shape inside the flames.

There—it was a person. Not much bigger than Hanna, they glowed blindingly white, like the magnesium ribbons their father had burned for them in the lab.

Maria?

The shape in the fire started crying. Hanna, I don’t know what to do. I saw a bear and I got scared and then I was on fire and I don’t know how to stop it. I don’t know what to do!

It’s okay.

Hanna reached out, certain that if Maria was safe in there, she would be too.

Stop! Maria snapped. I don’t want to burn you.

Hanna recoiled, the heat of the fire finally registering as something that could hurt her. Her skin grew dry and tight, the sweat evaporating as soon as it appeared, and she couldn’t imagine how much hotter it was in the center. Maria could die.

Help! Father! Hanna shrieked.

They had to do something.

Hanna, stay back!

Hanna turned to see their father, Artem, entering the clearing, tall and broad and strong. Hanna felt something inside her loosen. Everything would be all right. He would fix it.

Artem knelt next to Hanna, his large hand on her shoulder. Maria, can you hear me?

Maria’s shape seemed to nod. Uh huh.

Good. This is nothing to fear—your powers have emerged.

But I don’t know how to stop them!

Listen to me, Artem said, his voice calm. He stared at the fire and Hanna stared up at him. Take a deep breath. Can you do that?

They heard Maria inhale within the fire, her breath wet with tears.

Good. You’re doing so well. Now breathe again.

Maria took another breath, then another. Her sobbing slowed and her breathing grew steady. The flames died down around her, leaving a slim, blonde girl standing naked in the woods, a scorched circle of earth at her feet.

Artem took off his shirt and wrapped it around Maria. Good girl. I’m proud of you.

He wrapped her in a hug, and Hanna saw Maria stiffen. Their father wasn’t usually the hugging sort. He was the sort to watch while the lab techs took samples and ran tests, taking meticulous notes of everything they found.

He pulled back and looked into Maria’s watery eyes, father and daughter like reflections with their white-blond hair and ice-blue eyes. Want to go back to the cabin? Maksim is going to be so jealous when you tell him.

Maria nodded, a small giggle falling out. She clapped her hands over her mouth, as if she could put it back in.

Artem smiled and stood. You’re a proper Super now.

He started walking toward their cabin. Hanna looked at Maria. Her skin was pale and the area under her eyes was darkening, her pale brows furrowed as her mind ticked away. Hanna flashed her a grin.

You have powers! she whispered.

Maria nodded.

Hanna thought of what their brothers, Maksim and Toomas, would say. Max would be impatient for his own powers now, since he was only a year younger than Maria. As twins, maybe Hanna and Toomas would have a competition to see whose powers would manifest first.

Hanna wondered what her own powers would be when they arrived. She skipped up to Artem and put her hand in his. It was the one week of the year when Artem took a break from his research, yet Hanna found herself eager to go back to the lab—to see the changes that had taken place in Maria’s body.

Artem looked down at her and gave her a knowing, close-lipped smile. One day, it will be your turn.

She couldn’t wait.

1

Eight years later, Hanna was sick of waiting. She slouched at one of the terminals in Artem’s underground lab, scrolling through the SHR—the Super Human Registry—while she waited for the samples in her petri dishes to mature.

The lab was built like a Cold War bunker. An operating room, a specimen room, a laboratory, and a handful of training rooms, all with concrete floors and stainless-steel surfaces, that were dug into the earth and lit with fluorescent lights. While the world above ground might be filled with color and life and mess, the lab was kept calm and sterile—a place where everything could be clearly examined, labeled, and put in its place.

The only sounds were the faint hum of the air vents, the beeps of the sequencing machines as they processed DNA samples, and Artem typing away at another one of the terminals while Hanna scrolled. With every tap, she struggled not to flinch. Other than a nod of acknowledgment when he’d entered the lab, he hadn’t spoken to her today, as was his MO. The pattern would continue until she did something wrong. Then he would stand over her work, his arms crossed and his lips thin, and Hanna would turn into a blushing, fumbling mess.

She continued scrolling, the listed names blurring together. Hanna could never untangle her feelings when Artem was in the lab. Sometimes she wanted him there. She wanted him to see when she finally had the breakthrough that would change everything—the one that would prove her worth as a scientist, even if she had none as a super. But when her father was in the room—always listening—she couldn’t relax. Her hands shook. She muddled up chemicals, missed steps in the process, and could never pinpoint what exactly had gone wrong.

If only her family could be as clean and clear cut as her experiments.

As Hanna scrolled, she looked to see if any new supers had been registered since she had last checked. Specifically, any new supers who didn’t have powers.

Such a search would have been unthinkable just a few years before. Even though they’d always had unlimited access to the Registry (a rare privilege if you didn’t work in law enforcement, but one granted to Artem Super as the world’s leading specialist in the super gene mutation), supers weren’t outed until their powers emerged. There would have been no reason to generate a genetic profile for the Registry if someone wasn’t presenting with powers.

That had changed three years ago when, after years of campaigning, Artem had successfully gotten new legislation passed for more widespread genetic profiling, which would allow researchers and the government to better understand the prevalence of the mutation in the wider population, and potentially identify new supers.

Now, the DNA of anyone who had any bloodwork done, anyone who underwent surgery, even anyone who used one of those online ancestry sites, was sent to Super Technologies Incorporated for testing and—if the mutation was found—addition to the SHR. Hanna had even heard that the police had started performing random swab tests to claim the reward that came with discovering a new super, though it had been almost two years since she last left the complex so she couldn’t say whether these rumors were true.

So, every couple of weeks, when Hanna was waiting for test tubes to spin down or samples to dry in the fume hood, she scrolled through the SHR to find anyone who presented with the super gene mutation whose powers hadn’t yet manifested. With fewer than three hundred names to get through, it never took her long to confirm that there was only ever one:

Hanna Super

Age: 16

Hair: Brown

Eyes: Brown

Gene present: Y

Power: Unknown

In a sea of teenagers and adults who could vanish at will, shoot lightning from their palms, and deafen people with their voices, Hanna was the only one who’d reached the age of sixteen without any noticeable powers. At first, everyone had assumed they were still coming—maybe she was a late bloomer. Then Hanna had theo­rized that there must be other supers without powers, but there had been no reason to analyze their DNA without an emergence incident.

Now, though, with no other powerless supers in sight, Hanna wondered whether it was time to resign herself to the fact that she was fundamentally flawed.

Her alarm beeped and she straightened, anticipation fizzing in her chest. She closed the SHR and shot a furtive look at Artem over her shoulder, but he was still focused on his own terminal. Perfect—she could call him over if it worked.

While Artem might be the world’s leading authority on the mutation, one puzzle he hadn’t cracked was how to separate superpowers from supers. Or, better yet, how those without the mutation could gain powers. But Hanna had a theory.

They knew splicing didn’t work. Nor did introducing mutated DNA in the form of a virus. Nor did breeding supers with normals, though there was some evidence the mutation was recessive (Hanna’s mother had been a super, after all). But it might be possible through transfection—where a cell, with some encouragement, absorbed foreign DNA from its environment.

If she managed it, she would have achieved something even Artem hadn’t done.

Hanna set up her workstation—a tray with five petri dishes, a clean microscope, and her notepad. Then she stretched some surgical gloves over her hands. She gingerly slid a petri dish under the microscope and looked through the lens.

The bacteria, dyed with methylene blue, danced across a sea magnified one thousand times. Hanna’s shoulders relaxed as she became absorbed in their intricate ballet, their color shockingly bright compared to the lab. She zoomed in to inspect the bacteria on a cellular level.

There. She held her breath as she adjusted the zoom again. She’d done it—she’d transfected Maria’s DNA into the bacteria!

Her mind raced at the possibilities. If bacteria were able to accept plasmids with the super gene mutation, what did that mean for people who didn’t have superpowers? Would it be possible to create a world where everyone was a super? Where everyone was gifted like her brothers and sisters?

Would a plasmid taken from a functional super be enough to compensate for her own dysfunctional DNA?

Hanna slid the second dish under the microscope. The third. The fourth. The bacteria had all successfully absorbed the super gene mutation.

Hanna gave a silent whoop, punching the air in glee. As she swung her arm, her fist clipped the edge of the chemical shelf, and three bottles tumbled off the edge. Hanna’s mouth dropped open. She reached out as the bottles fell, almost in slow motion, then shattered against the worktop. Glass scattered across the steel and onto the floor as a sea of liquid—clear, blue, and yellow—washed over her work.

Hanna groaned, dropping her head into her hands. Weeks of work, gone! She didn’t even have any spare cultures left in the fridge. Hanna sighed and looked up at the mess once more.

One of the petri dishes was on fire.

Agh! Hanna yelped.

She tore off her lab coat and put it over the dish, suffocating the flames.

What on earth are you doing?

Her hands still on the coat, Hanna turned around. Artem was standing behind her, intimidatingly large in his black turtleneck and white lab coat. Maria had once joked that he’d designed the complex with undersized doorframes so he would look bigger, but Hanna disagreed. Artem was tall and broad, and the size of their doorframes wasn’t going to change that.

My experiment took an unexpected turn.

Artem watched her, his eyes cold. Clean it up.

He left the room.

Hanna turned back to her stained, soaked lab coat. Heat flooded her cheeks. She’d been so close! She’d actually done something right—something she could replicate. It was something that she knew he’d be, if not proud of, at least interested in. Yet she’d managed to screw it up before she could share the results.

It would be days before she could do it again—if he let her use the lab after this.

Hanna blinked back frustrated tears as she wadded up her coat and threw it in the bin. She left her gloves on, even though they were sticky with her sweat, while she wiped down the bench and swept up the glass. Then she turned to what was left of her petri dishes—all of them ruined, one of them blackened.

She inspected the burnt dish, trying to recall the contents of the bottles she’d knocked over. There was no reason why any one of them would spontaneously burst into flames, even if the chemicals inside them had mixed. Neither she nor Artem would have been so careless in their organization. But if that were the case, what had happened?

She reflected on everything she’d done to cultivate the bacteria, from when she’d taken Maria’s sample…Hanna paused mid-thought. That was it.

Hanna broke into a smile as the pieces fell into place. She of all people knew that the super gene mutation alone wasn’t enough to cause superpowers to emerge. They needed to be triggered. In most cases, the trigger event seemed to be connected to the stress response, though they hadn’t been able to nail down the exact chemical formula. Hanna might just have done it, though.

The chemicals hadn’t spontaneously combusted—they had triggered the latent power in the transfected DNA. Maria’s power.

She had to tell Artem.

Hanna kicked off her lab slippers and ran up the steel stairs to Artem’s library, punching in the access code and letting the lens scan her retina so she could enter the main house. She pushed open the bookcase to see Artem sitting at his desk, his phone to his ear and paperwork spread over the surface before him.

Minister, the challenge is that most supers aren’t trained in the effective use of their powers—if they were, there wouldn’t be so many accidents, and there wouldn’t be the same fear among the rest of the population. We monitor and restrict them to protect the wider population—it’s why they are barred from certain professions and aren’t admitted to certain venues.

Artem paused while the person on the other end of the line spoke. Hanna stood in front of him, though his eyes didn’t register her presence. He looked straight ahead, his gaze seeming to pass through her mid-section as he focused on the call. She found herself swaying forward on her toes and back again as she tried to contain her excitement.

And what exactly are the Russians doing? Artem asked. At the other person’s response, he gave a wry smile. Good luck to them, then. I can’t see it ending well. Yes, there are defense applications to these powers, but it takes time and training. Take my children as a case study—a well-oiled tactical team, with complete control of their abilities and the understanding of how to put them to best use. I’m not saying it isn’t possible at scale, but we would need to consider which abilities are most appropriate, and then put the individuals concerned through training like any member of the armed forces.

Hanna frowned thoughtfully as Artem paused once more. He had always pushed her siblings to be above reproach—to be an example of what supers could be. While other supers lived in hiding, never revealing their abilities unless they were forced to, Hanna’s siblings gave press conferences and appeared on the news, ready to serve whenever the authorities called. Hanna hadn’t thought of them as a test case for military applications, though.

Artem gave a real laugh this time. It’s certainly food for thought. Thank you for your time, Minister. He set his phone down and turned back to his papers without lifting his eyes. Yes?

Hanna took a deep breath. I think I’ve found a way to trigger a superhuman response outside a super’s body.

Artem’s head snapped up. Really?

Hanna nodded, biting her lip to hold back her grin. This was the moment she’d been waiting for for over two years—since he’d given up hope of her ever getting powers of her own.

"I used a sample from Maria. That’s why the petri dish caught on fire."

Artem leaned forward, his brow furrowed. And how—

An alarm blared through the speakers in the ceiling. Hanna winced at the sound.

Her father stood, his forehead smooth, his jaw set. Get your siblings. We’ll discuss this when I return.

2

Hanna rushed up the stairs to Maria’s room, her socks slipping on the floating steps. While the lab was all stainless steel and fluorescent lights, the main house was a modern mix of white, black, and glass, with slate tiles in the entrance, suspended-glass walkways linking the second floor, and wide windows with black frames letting in the summer light.

Rounding up her siblings before a mission had become a regular chore assigned to Hanna—a way of Artem rubbing her nose in the fact that they had powers and she didn’t. But this time, she’d found something he wanted. From now on, things would be different. She knew it.

Maria was pulling her black bodysuit over her lean frame when Hanna arrived, her blue eyes brightening as Hanna walked through the door.

She waved at the speaker in the ceiling. Are the alarms really necessary? Every time?

Shh! He might hear you, Hanna said under her breath.

While there were no visible cameras in the bedrooms and bathrooms, Hanna worked under the assumption that Artem was always watching. She settled herself on Maria’s bed, sinking into the duvet as Maria turned her back to her. Hanna zipped her sister into the suit, covering up the faded battle scars on her back and avoiding her long, blonde ponytail.

The alarm cut out, replaced by the voice of Sander, their household manager, coming over the speaker. The National Bank has been attacked by four armed men. There are believed to be up to fifteen hostages inside. The police are at the scene, but the perpetrators are refusing to deal with them.

Hanna frowned. Usually, the police called on the Super children when they needed one of their powers—asking Toomas or Marleen to help free people who were trapped in a collapsed cellar, asking Maksim to subdue a violent suspect, or asking Maria to manage a fire that had gotten out of hand. Occasionally there were the times when a new super’s powers emerged, and they needed someone to stop them from harming themselves or others.

Bank robberies, active shooters, terrorist threats—these were all handled by local authorities, even if Artem had made it clear that the Super siblings would be happy to help.

Why are they calling us? Do you think it’s the Brotherhood? Hanna asked.

No, Maria said. It makes no sense. Why would they rob a bank?

She pulled on her armor—light shields for her torso, forearms, and shins—each impatient movement punctuating her speech.

Maybe they have supers? Maybe they want to confront us?

Why do you need to bring everything back to the Brotherhood? Maria asked. You’re looking for conspiracies that aren’t there.

Hanna fell silent, watching as Maria moved to the next stage of her pre-mission ritual. Maria closed her eyes and shook out her hands. Then, seemingly without effort, a sleeve of fire ran up her right arm. A mirroring band of flame ran up her left, and then a sheet of fire ran over her body from toe to head.

Everything seems to be working properly, Hanna commented, her gut twisting at Maria’s easy control of her powers. The way it did every time Hanna tried to do something—anything—and failed. You know, maybe I should come this time.

Maria’s head jerked up. No.

No? Hanna frowned. It’s not even up to you.

Maria shook her head, her arms crossed, her lips tight. I know, but you can’t, Hanna. It’s too dangerous.

Well, that could be changing soon.

Maria’s eyes narrowed. What did you do, Hanna?

Hanna couldn’t help but smile. She leaned forward, her voice low. Let’s just say I made some progress with my experiment.

Maria’s gaze darted to the speaker and back—like Hanna, she assumed someone was always listening. What progress?

One of the petri dishes with your sample caught on fire.

Maria stepped back, an expression flickering across her face so quickly that Hanna couldn’t identify it. Maria turned to face the window, her shoulders rising and falling as she took a deep breath. Hanna stretched to look over Maria’s shoulder but couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary—the summer sun shone on the green hedges that bordered their small garden, and the neighboring classical buildings in their pastel pinks and yellows and greens looked like something out of a storybook. Hanna didn’t stare out the window often, but when she did she was struck by the contrast between Artem’s modern complex and the historical city of Kakslinna. They were like two different worlds, separated by mere panes of glass.

You recreated my powers, Maria said without turning around.

Not intentionally, but yes.

When Maria continued, her voice was quiet. I’m not sure how I feel about that—someone else having access to my powers.

But, Maria, Hanna pleaded, "this could be my chance. This could help me get powers."

Maria sighed, her shoulders rising and falling once more. Hanna, they aren’t all they’re cracked up to be. She turned back, the movement sudden in the stillness of the room, and her eyes locked on Hanna’s. Does he know?

Hanna didn’t need to ask whom Maria was talking about. She nodded.

Maria swore under her breath, putting her head in her hands.

It’s not like it means anything, yet. Hanna hated admitting this when she wanted it to mean something so badly, but it was the truth. It happened by accident. I still need to figure out what triggered the reaction.

But he knows what you did, Maria said. "He knows you have these materials available and what they could do. Did you think about what he could do with that knowledge, Hanna? What he could do to you?"

Maybe it’s a step toward me having a real place in this family, Hanna shot back. If this works, maybe I could be one of you. Don’t you want that?

A brisk knock sounded at the door, and it opened before Maria could answer—the door or Hanna. Artem stood in the doorway, his lab coat eschewed for the mission.

Good, you’re ready, he said to Maria before turning to Hanna. Get your brothers. We leave in two minutes.

Hanna gave Maria a long look and left the room. Didn’t Maria want her to be one of them? Didn’t she want Hanna to belong—
to be happy? How dare she? Maria was supposed to be the one person who was on her side, and the moment things started looking up for Hanna, Maria decided she didn’t agree with her anymore.

Hanna curled her fingers into fists to stop them from shaking, crossing the walkway to Toomas’s room. She didn’t know what the others would do if they knew she was angry. It wasn’t Maria’s decision, anyway—what Hanna did in the lab or whether she came on their missions. In fact, why couldn’t she just ask Artem to go along today? Surely she had some leverage now that he knew what she had achieved. Yes, she’d do that. Hanna gave herself a firm nod and knocked on the door, waiting for an answer.

None came.

Like Hanna and Maria, Toomas and Maksim shared a bathroom, and it wasn’t unusual to find them together. Hanna wondered whether she should try Maksim’s room instead, then heard a snicker behind the door. Hanna closed her eyes, groaning internally.