by Drew Hayes
Rather than go to her own apartment, they instead headed straight to Ivan’s townhouse. “By now, reporters have your address,” Ivan explained as Tori tried to settle on the couch. This new place was slick, with high-end appliances and fancy furniture, but it lacked the authentic comfort of Ivan’s real house. Sadly, that had played host to a meta-human brawl between Hephaestus and a traitor of the guild, which had left it in an... uninhabitable state. Until the repairs were completed, Ivan was stuck in this swanky place, not that he seemed to care. The only requests Tori saw him make when these arrangements were being set up were for a modern kitchen and rooms for both of his kids. Ivan had his priorities.
“Couldn’t I turn the hose on them or something? It can’t be legal to hang out in front of my building, hoping to harass me.” Tori had been looking forward to a quiet evening of refining her meta-suit for the guild’s reopening that weekend. Now she was wondering if she’d have to build some sort of hidden tunnel system just to attend. Actually, now that she considered it, some secret entrances and escape hatches were a good idea in general.
“The countless thespians, models, and other famous folk in your shoes have tried such methods, few of which were successful. While our media cycle has kicked up several notches, you’re not the first person to get a shot of fame for being saved by a cape. Some try to turn it into careers of their own. Most fade away after a new story pops up. My advice is to lay low and wait it out. After a day or two, you can probably go home safely. Until then, feel free to use Beth’s room.”
Despite how unfunny the situation was, Tori still let out a short chuckle. “So, this was all just an elaborate plan to get me to be your housemate again. I respect the effort, but if you’re lonely, maybe move in with Wade? He’s one of the few people you like.”
Ivan shuddered, albeit slightly, at the suggestion. “Impossible. We’ve already lived together, and the man is an abhorrent slob when at home—and do keep in mind that critique is coming from someone who’s raising a teenager. The original reason he invented robots that do tasks like cleaning or driving was to appease me after a particularly strong argument over when a trash can needs to be emptied.”
For a moment, Tori tried to picture it. Two of the worlds’ most powerful villains, in their primes, having a heated discussion about who was dragging ass on their chores. Hard as she worked, the image of Fornax and Doctor Mechaniacal bickering about trash refused to form. Ivan and Wade, however, she conjured with minimal effort.
“Besides, how could I be lonely? Between you lot at the office, keeping an eye on the guild, and my actual children, it often feels like I go entire weeks without spare moments to rub together.” Ivan’s eyes darted to the watch on his wrist. “On that note, I’m afraid I have an errand to run. My sincere apologies, but I made the commitment before I was aware of your situation. Please get comfortable. I can grab us some fast food on the way back.”
The room grew unexpectedly heavy as Tori narrowed her eyes. “Uh oh. What’s going on?”
“As I said, an errand I need to run. No need to pull out the suspicious stare.”
“Except you never do takeout when you can help it, and that goes double for fast food. You always stick to real meals, even when we get in late and doing something quick and greasy would be way easier. Sorry, Ivan, but you taught me that paying attention to details and listening to our gut helps us stay alive. If I’m not high enough in the guild to know or whatever, fine, but say that. I don’t need to be lied to.”
Ivan both cursed and complimented his past self; the education provided to Tori had clearly been a comprehensive one. “The lie was for me, not you. Janet called and asked me to help with Beth’s Starscout cluster. There’s been an issue with her registration.”
“I didn’t know Beth was a Starscout,” Tori said. “Hope they’ve improved the uniforms. Those old collars used to itch like all hell.”
It was one of the few times she’d seen Ivan actually reel in surprise. “You were a Starscout?”
Her laughing smile faded, and Tori looked away. “Mom thought I needed socializing, said I was too preoccupied with research and experimentation. Started me as a Sparkscout, then graduated into Starscouts when I was old enough. I never liked any of the camping or outdoorsy stuff one bit, but I got to do it all with my mom, so now I can’t help loving the memories.”
“It’s a good organization. Everything the founder hoped for.” Ivan pressed on, hurrying past his slip-up before Tori could ask how he would possibly know a thing like that. “My fear is the fact that Janet felt the need to get me involved at all. She is not a woman to be taken lightly, especially where our children are concerned. If she wants me to deal with this, then the most likely reasons are because the situation requires a dangerously firm hand, or she somehow thinks the problem is my fault and expects me to solve it. I’m worried what that means for Beth and her group.”
After a brief moment of consideration, Tori hopped up from the couch. She’d never gotten settled on it, anyway. “I’ll come, too. Sitting around a strange place with nothing to work on is just going to make me stir-crazy, especially after today. Plus, I can be your Starscout expert, in case anyone tries to trick you with fake rules or policies.”
It was a stretch, and they were both keenly aware of that. Ivan didn’t blame Tori. Her entire world had gotten shaken up on a coffee-run mere hours ago; she needed time to process. And company, apparently. There was a small amount of merit in her proposal, though. Ivan had more than enough magic to tell when a human lied to him, but having her there to call out any bullshit was a more mundane option that demanded less explanation. For people in their position, appearing normal was among the highest of priorities.
“Just so we’re clear, Tori, this is a matter I take seriously.”
“I know how you feel about your kids, and Beth probably saved my life when her school collapsed. I’m not going to fuck around with something that girl cares about,” she replied.
“Good answer.” Ivan walked over to the table and grabbed his keys. “But keep your head down as we drive. Remember, for the moment, you’re a celebrity.”
Tori let out a groan that sounded like it had crawled all the way up from her toes. “I don’t suppose there’s any way I could convince you to let me ride in my Hephaestus helmet, is there?”
In the early days, though not quite as far back as her post-event, pre-Lodestar days, Helen had trouble controlling her power. It came bursting forth at the slightest desire, suffusing her body and lighting up everything in a three-block radius with her glow. Over time, and with significant practice, she’d learned to master her abilities, drawing only as much power as she wanted. It was that level of self-control that permitted Helen to last seven years without using the burning power that dwelled within her.
That same control was how she managed to illuminate only her hair and eyes at that moment, shifting into the appearance of Lodestar without calling up so much strength that she risked ripping a door from its hinges. Even in her most mundane form, Helen’s body was at peak human capacity for strength, agility, endurance, flexibility, and every other physical factor one could measure, so it wasn’t as if she felt defenseless. Besides, they were in the heart of the AHC, and she was about to walk into a room with four other superheroes.
Already waiting for her in the lounge were the New Science Sentries and a thin man with a receding hairline who was running around checking their vitals. One of Vernon’s—no, Professor Quantum’s—men. It was important to keep those lines in place when she was wearing her costume. Even if the world already knew who he was, it didn’t matter. Lodestar set the standard. If she got sloppy with official names, then others would think that was permissible—and it was not, even if she was annoyed with Professor Quantum for bringing a small staff along with his new team.
No matter how many times she had these sorts of meetings, she always took a deep breath for courage. Before grabbing the door handle, Helen drew in a single long gulp of air. Lod
estar blew it out as she strolled into the room, smiling at the waiting team.
At the sight of her, Professor Quantum’s lackey headed out the door as the rest of the room broke into a brief flurry of action.
The scramble wasn’t new; she’d been famous for much too long. The team before her turned into a fray of limbs and movement as each and every one hopped to their feet. Only the shorter member, Presto, took his time rising. None were in masks, so she could see the excitement and terror shining out from each of their faces. It was hard to meet one’s heroes; all the more so when they were actual superheroes. She’d stood where they were once and knew that feeling all too well, even so many years later.
“The New Science Sentries,” Lodestar opened. “Those were some exceptional skills you showed off; I can see why Professor Quantum handed down the team name. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s start with introductions. I met you all briefly at the welcoming party, when you shook hands down the line, but I think we can do better than that. Agent Quantum, as leader, why don’t you tell me about yourself and your team?”
Of them all, Presto looked the least nervous. That was, however, merely because he was a better actor than the others. Reading their body language, Agent Quantum appeared to be the one who actually was the least nervous, although it wasn’t by a huge lead. He still stepped forward without fail, meeting her eyes as he spoke. Without the mask, it was clear he had the classic handsomeness so many capes prized: square jaw, bright eyes, and a smile that was commanding and friendly at the same time.
“Yes, ma’am. I’m Agent Quantum, but you can call me by my civilian name: Austin. Tachyonic and I were part of a prenatal setlium experiment prior to our births, which is where we both gained our abilities. Plasmodia and Presto were created through alternate means, and joined us on the island in late childhood. Our respective power sets are as follows: Tachyonic distorts the chronoflow around him to—”
“I’m up to speed on all your powers,” Lodestar politely interrupted. “I was hoping to learn a little more about you as people. Let’s start with an easy one, especially for recruits who have had their powers this long: what made you want to become superheroes?”
She considered this more of an icebreaker than a question. The answers people gave were usually off the cuff, either a quick pleasantry that had been practiced to death or the sort of sincere blathering that betrayed a lack of introspective thinking. The real reason was something one found out over time. Still, this was at least a conversational jump-off point that everyone who wanted to be a cape would be able to join in on.
“The chance to do great things.” Tachyonic was the one who spoke up, and he was lying, badly. So badly, in fact, that Lodestar suspected he didn’t expect or want this answer taken seriously. Interesting. She hadn’t known what to expect from that one, and so far still didn’t.
“I mean, let’s be honest here. I’m short, not much of a looker, and most people tend to find me... I think ‘abrasive’ is the word they use when they’re being nice. Guys like me have only one shot if we want to be rich, famous, and desired by lovely women all over the globe: superhero.” Presto vanished, reappearing on a nearby chair so he could look Lodestar more easily in the eyes. “Please feel free to call me Ike, by the way.”
Another liar, except this one did want to be believed. She shook his hand, absorbing the bluster to think over when she had more time.
As Lodestar turned away, she nearly bumped into Plasmodia, who had edged closer.
“I realize this sounds like I’m kissing up, but... the Day of Two Stars was what inspired me. I saw it from the ground, and even though I was a kid, I never forgot the way the sky lit up. I didn’t use my powers before then; I thought they were too dangerous. Watching you was when I realized that sometimes the world needs dangerous powers.”
“I haven’t heard anyone use that term in a while.” Lodestar noticed the flash of panic that ran through the young woman’s eyes and quickly spoke to reassure her. “I like it, mind you, it’s just one that fell out of fashion. Orion was a dangerous foe, and I wouldn’t face another like him if I had the choice. But knowing it helped show younger capes what we can do makes the fight worthwhile.”
Plasmodia nodded enthusiastically, a too-bright smile of capped teeth beaming on her face. “Oh! And I’m Eleanor, but everyone calls me Ellie! Sorry, should have opened with that.”
“It’s okay. There’s no set order to introductions.” Lodestar gave Plasmodia a quick wink before turning back to Agent Quantum. “And you, leader of the team? What got you into this field?”
“I was born for it. This is all I’ve ever known.” The reply was quick and crisp; he’d been ready for this. “With respect, that’s all I’d like to say for now, if that’s acceptable, ma’am. The rest is a personal matter.”
Lodestar closed her eyes for an extra-long blink. She didn’t just understand Austin’s reasoning; she’d expected it from at least one of them. Powers almost always came from chaos. It was the rare meta-human who gained their abilities in a peaceful, expected manner. And in that chaos, others often weren’t so lucky. It was a sad constant that so many meta-human powers were forged in tragedy, yet it was one she had to be aware of all the same.
“Perfectly fine. You certainly have the right to your own privacy,” Lodestar told him. “I’m not here today to pry as you get acclimated. I’m here to discuss your team, your performance today, and your future in the Alliance of Heroic Champions. My understanding is that Professor Quantum has been training all of you for years, both as individuals and as a team. Is that correct?”
All eyes darted to Austin a split second before he spoke. They were definitely cohesive as a unit, that much was clear. “Yes, ma’am. Our team composition wasn’t officially set until roughly two years ago, so we’ve only had that long to work together. Prior to that, we all received at least five years of personal development education.”
Once, before the AHC, before Lodestar, before the burning night that changed her life, Helen had been a young woman with dreams of acting. She’d even gotten in some training during her brief stint at college. That interest and talent had served her well many times through the years, and this was no exception. She successfully managed to keep the twist of incredulity from her expression. Two years of team training? Most were lucky to get two weeks before they were needed somewhere in the world. Professor Quantum had been polishing these four long past the point where it was worthwhile, just to make sure they’d do his legacy proud. Never mind that they’d have been better served doing the work and growing from experience: the image came first.
However, none of that was the team’s fault, which was why Lodestar denied the frustrated expression any time on her face. “That’s clear to see from watching the tapes. You’re all very gifted, and you work together extremely well.”
The foursome basked in the compliment like she’d breathed literal light into them. Even Presto’s smile was glowing. It made the next line all the harder to speak, but she did so, anyway. Taking the tougher path was what being a cape was all about.
“Unfortunately, I think some of Professor Quantum’s older, less-refined tactics might have slipped into your education. Today, for example. You all did an excellent job stopping the robbers, but it took at least four times as long as it should have with your skill levels. Any of them could have fired into the gathered civilians while you were taking turns putting on a show. Additionally, none of you were actually working crowd control. You are extremely lucky that your first job was in Ridge City, where the population knows what to do in a meta-fight. Another town, another country, people will try to get close for pictures and souvenirs. If things hadn’t broken your way several times, the news would be reporting on the showboating new team who got civilians killed.”
To an outside observer, it would appear like Lodestar had just slapped the New Science Sentries without so much as a twitch of her hand. Eyes wide, mouths agape, they definitely hadn’t been prepared to g
et dressed down, and damn sure not by Lodestar herself. Years of practice giving these speeches had taught her not to pause here. It was best to power through while they were stunned into silence.
“That’s the bad news. The good news is this: teaching you to be better superheroes is why the Alliance of Heroic Champions exists in the first place. We’ll get you up to date on optimal meta-response strategies, run some drills for you to practice, and in no time, I have faith you’ll be a team as useful and beloved as the original Science Sentries.”
They didn’t exactly look great, but at least most of their mouths had managed to close. Since they were taking it well, Lodestar opted to push ahead and knock out the last major item. Professor Quantum had kicked up a fuss at first, until she once again reminded him that they’d both started under similar conditions.
“One thing you need to learn about the AHC, though: we own our mistakes. Tachyonic, you brought a civilian in front of a crowd of cameras, posed with her, then let her name get leaked to the public. You put that woman in a position she didn’t ask for, one that comes with actual danger. That means you’re the one who is going to make it right.”
As the New Science Sentries leaned in, Lodestar explained what their next few days would entail.
Chapter 5
The laboratory was elegant: impeccably designed for both function and aesthetics, the work of someone who had spent untold years inside such research facilities. On a large screen, videos of the day’s robbery played on a loop, cycling in new footage as soon as varying angles became available. Some were selected from public broadcasts; other bits were harvested from phones with poorly secured encryptions.