Bones of the Past (Villains' Code Book 2)

by Drew Hayes

  “While we were at the beach that day, some creatures appeared. A new species created by the Carp Conqueror, this aquatic, meta-human criminal with dreams of grandeur. They were mounting an assault, you see. Trying to take over the land-world, as they phrased it. In the end, none of the details really mattered that much. They made a very crucial mistake early on that sent it all to hell. They threatened my family.”

  He could still feel the warm air as Carp Conqueror’s odd, wet laughter echoed over the sounds of fleeing beachgoers. First came the offer: help lead the charge. Then came the mistake: daring to cast a finger at Ivan’s then-wife and children, implying they might not survive the tide that would wash along the lands. Ivan couldn’t remember things so well from that point on, just snippets. The rest of the details required diving into the Fornax side of himself, which this was definitely not the time for.

  “What did you do, when they threatened us?” Rick was leaning forward so far, Ivan feared he might tumble from the couch. The poor boy looked ready to pop from nerves. This must have been eating at him for a long time.

  “I neutralized the threat.”

  “That’s not an answer! Tell me what happened already. Dad, please.”

  With a quiet farewell to the simple, normal relationship they’d had, Ivan forced himself to tell Rick the truth.

  “I slaughtered them all. One by one. First, they died fighting. Then, they died begging. By the end, it mostly just screams. I tried to be quick, as merciful as possible, but when dealing with a new anatomy, you have to pulp everything to be sure they’re dead. Within three minutes, the water was stained with their oozing purple blood.”

  It was a strange progression, the emotions on Rick’s face. Relief swept in, brief and beautiful, as his father’s words confirmed that Rick wasn’t, in fact, crazy. Then came the horror as the implications followed. With every word, the point was driven home harder, and the possibility that it was all a joke shrank. By the end, Rick no longer looked like he’d swallowed a live bee. Instead, he was growing pale, staring at Ivan like he’d unveiled himself as the avatar of Death itself. Which wasn’t as far from the truth as Ivan might have liked.

  “What you’re feeling right now is natural, son. The shock. The disbelief. The terror at what it all means. Understand this: it only gets harder from here. If the truth is really what you want, make sure you’re ready to hear it. We don’t need to do all of this in a single round.”

  The expression on Rick’s face grew more neutral as his mind went to work, properly adding in this new information to whatever he’d already been working with. “If you really killed an invading force of meta-humans, does that mean you have powers?”

  “Yes. Though not the kind that can be passed down. They’re nothing like your sister’s—those truly are a mystery. I’ve got a few tricks, but by and large, I mostly lean on my physical skills.”

  “Kind of bummer. I was really hoping graceful aging was part of our genetics,” Rick admitted. He was falling into a familiar pattern with his dad, momentarily forgetting the revelation. Ivan could actually see when it popped up again in his perception; Rick’s whole body shifted to a closed-off position. “Must be pretty strong, to kill that many.”

  “Slaughtered,” Ivan corrected. “You can’t call that meager resistance they offered a fight. I was a blade cutting through a field of wheat. Yes, Rick. I am strong. Not what I once was, but still quite dangerous.”

  Rick was retreating a bit now, pushing into the couch’s back cushions. “If you killed that many people, shouldn’t you have gone to jail?”

  “Details matter. I pushed back an army that was invading our soil and publicly declaring war. Can’t prosecute on that without setting a dangerous standard for the capes.”

  The room was growing tense. Reality had started to sink in for Rick. His father was a killer: proud and efficient, at that. Still, the boy had courage. He pushed on, determined to get his answers.

  “Is that why I can’t remember? It was so bad I had to block it out?”

  “Partially, but you had some magical assistance.” Ivan reached into his pocket and produced a small crystal bottle with pink liquid inside. “This potion helps you forget things you don’t want to remember. We gave you some that night, after hours of hysterical crying and fits. You saw something unimaginably terrible, and worse, you saw it committed by someone you loved. It would have been a lifelong trauma, so we gave you an out. But magic is tied to willpower, and the more you tried to remember, the weaker the effects became.”

  “Are... are you going to make me drink that?” There was nothing subtle about it now. Rick was visibly moving further down the couch, away from Ivan.

  Carefully, Ivan picked the bottle back up and tucked it away. “I was going to offer it, though that seems like a no. Even if I did force you to drink it, that wouldn’t matter. As I said, it helps you forget things you don’t want to remember. It could never do more than what you desired.”

  “Oh, yeah, I’m sure at age five I was making great decisions about which memories I might need to hang on to. And how convenient that keeping your secret worked out to be the best thing for me.”

  Much as Ivan wanted to smack that train of thought aside, this was already a precarious situation. Anything less than true honesty in the moment might do more damage than could ever be mended, especially with the issue of eroded trust.

  “In my heart, I really do believe that you were better off forgetting. But I’m far from a perfect person. It’s very possible I allowed my own selfish desires to cloud my judgment on the issue. Because you’re right, Rick. I didn’t want you to stay that way. You wouldn’t even get in the car with me. You screamed and screamed if I even came close. That... this... was the last thing I ever wanted.”

  “For me to know the truth?” Even through the anger Rick was trying to project, Ivan could still see the true emotion lurking in his gaze.

  “For my child to be afraid of me. For you to think, even for a moment, that I would ever hurt you, turn that side of myself in your direction. Almost everyone who knows me is scared of what I can do, what I represent—sometimes, just me in general. Not you two. You ran to me for comfort whenever you were scared or hurt. You understood that there was nothing in this world I wouldn’t do to keep you safe.”

  Ivan stared at the fear in Rick’s face, the terror he’d seen so many times in so many expressions. Never had it cut him so deeply. Things were going to be different from now on, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t still try his best for as long as there was parenting left to do. “Whatever you’re thinking and feeling about this, understand that fundamentally, nothing has changed. To you, the discoveries are new; however, I’ve been this man all along. I’m the same Ivan you’ve known your whole life. It’s just that now, I’m also more. None of that matters more to me than being your dad. I would tear the moon in half to keep you from harm.”

  To Ivan’s surprise, Rick uncoiled from his ball in the corner of the couch slightly. The boy looked dazed, and no wonder. With the roller coaster of emotions he was on, his brain was probably fried. After a moment of consideration, he spoke in a more controlled voice than any sixteen year old should be able to manage, given the circumstances.

  “I think I need a break. We’re not done. I want to know the rest, just maybe... not today.”

  “A wise decision. One step at a time is the surest way to walk the path you’re on.” Ivan started forward to comfort Rick, but stopped when he caught the wince. No mistaking it, the shadow of fear now lay between them.

  Even though it broke his heart, Ivan pretended not to notice. That was his burden as the parent. And he intended to play that role for however long Rick would still let him. However, Ivan had a sinking suspicion that those days were severely limited.

  Chapter 47

  Tori hadn’t been to the main offices of Indigo Technologies before. She’d robbed a lab they owned, worked in a subsidiary, and rubbed elbows with the owner at the guild; however, she’d
never had occasion to come see Wade Wyatt in the most official capacity of his civilian identity.

  What amazed her from the moment she touched foot in the lobby was the security, and the knowledge of how few people would be able to spot it. Sonic disruptor cannons masquerading as modern art, pulse bombs worked into the pot of every lush plant in the space—even the floor tiles gave off the telltale sheen of electro-bind coating. Nothing here was entirely what it seemed, nor designed to serve only one purpose. Wade had built a fortress and made it look exactly as bland and unassuming as every other corporate office she’d had the misfortune to end up inside. Outside of the high-tech defenses, it was still aesthetically pleasing, if one went in for that sort of thing: lots of metal and glass, loads of natural light.

  Today it hosted a fairly brisk crowd despite it being Saturday afternoon. After a morning whipping up some samples, Tori hoped she had enough progress to bring before Wade. It made sense to knock this out early—no point in redoing the work that was already out there—but she also felt somewhat underprepared. Perhaps she should have waited until there was a fully functional prototype. She shook the thought from her head. They needed to act fast, while Tori was still a news item. Once the spotlight faded, this became less effective.

  At least on that front, there was little need for concern. She’d caught sight of several photographers lurking near her apartment, though they seemed hesitant to get too close. Given the phrases Chloe used whenever she spotted one, the paparazzi probably thought it was cursed by some meta, which actually wasn’t too far from the truth. It wasn’t enough to deter them entirely, a fact that Tori found annoying overall, but would be useful in the short term. She’d even made sure not to slip away when coming here. Let them speculate what she was up to. It would only add more attention when she made her move.

  Making her way through the plush lobby, Tori strolled up to security, a thick-necked man with a sharp look in his wary eyes.

  He glanced up, taking in her oil-stained jeans and t-shirt that was only slightly cleaner. “Name and appointment?” No sense of judgment, which she supposed did track. Working in a cutting-edge tech firm, he’d no doubt seen plenty of the type who put work above things like fashion or hygiene.

  “Tori Rivas, here to see Mr. Wade Wyatt.”

  She’d been braced for skepticism, a furtive glance to be sure this really was the name on the appointment list. Not so much as a flicker. He absorbed the name like he’d been waiting all day to hear it.

  “Identification.” He held out a hand, into which she deposited her driver’s license.

  The problem, Tori quickly realized, was that she’d been thinking of this encounter like she was visiting someone high in the company. But Wade wasn’t high, he was the top. They knew his visitors’ names already; those were likely memorized as soon as the appointment was logged.

  “Come with me.” Handing back her license, the guard hefted himself up, walking around the side of the thick security desk that Tori noticed was covertly reinforced. Something told her these guards were more than mere muscle, but then, she’d be reckless to assume anything different, knowing where she was.

  Together, they walked past the first bay of elevators, where a crowd of people in expensive clothing waited to board. They continued through a locked door that the guard buzzed them past, into a small, lush room with another guard and a single elevator.

  Unlike her first one, there was nothing front-desk appropriate about this guard. He was bald, with tattoos running up and down his flesh. There was something else, impossible to put her finger on. Tori could simply smell her own kind. This one had seen danger. He might even be a guild member she had yet to encounter.

  The first guard left as soon as he’d deposited her, hustling back to his desk. Her new escort rose slowly from his chair. His eyes were virtually peeling her, scanning for any danger, threat, or other potential issue. Finally, after a full minute of wordless staring, he reached over and tapped the elevator’s button.

  “Go ahead.” His voice was raspy, but surprisingly warm.

  “Thanks. Do civilians get to meet you, too, or is it only the folks using my channels?”

  In response, the tattoos flowed across his skin, stretching and warping, even rising from the flesh. Seconds later, she was looking at a respectably dressed fellow in a well-tailored business suit. “I give them the professional face. It’s uncomfortable to keep up, though, so I didn’t bother with you.” With a release of effort, the tattoos shifted back to their starting positions.

  “Neat. Got a name I should know?”

  He shook his head just as the elevator dinged its arrival. “If you ever get my name, it means you’ve royally screwed up. Or we’re friends, I suppose.”

  One of those, then. Not a shocker, given the role he was filling in his downtime. Tori wasn’t surprised. She’d seen Ivan get dispatched to slaughter an entire gang who’d crossed them; she was well aware the guild had operations like that. Still, didn’t hurt to sow her own seeds of danger, while she was around.

  “Then I hope I get it the friendly way. And to prove it, I’ll give you a piece of friendly advice: if I ever do fuck up, don’t try to come calling. Let’s just say someone already has dibs on that particular task, and they aren’t the sort of person you want to jump in line.”

  “Warning noted. Good luck with your meeting.” Those were the last words before the elevator doors whispered shut.

  The chrome elevator moved fast, especially considering how tall the building was. In shockingly short order, another ding sounded her arrival. The top floor of Indigo Technologies: the office of one man, Wade Wyatt. It was strange that Tori felt nervous, like she was meeting him for the first time again. She’d known him for months now... except, that wasn’t quite true. Tori knew Doctor Mechaniacal. She and Wade Wyatt had barely interacted. Those dynamics were always different, and she’d never been especially adept at rolling with social challenges.

  Putting the doubt out of mind, Tori strolled onward through a set of frosted glass doors that could likely withstand a missile and into the large waiting area outside Wade’s office. It was filled with high-end furniture that also still managed to be comfortable—greater proof than anyone should need that Wade was a super-genius inventor.

  Sitting at a vast, white stone desk, was one of the most unassuming women Tori had ever laid eyes on. Short, curly hair that already looked disheveled despite so much of the day remaining, an oversized cardigan with intentional cats and unintentional cat-hair as decoration upon it, huge glasses that evoked the image of a dragonfly—she looked like the person who’d be trailing after her boss with an armful of falling receipts and a cup of half-spilled coffee.

  Tori was immediately suspicious. Big, musclebound guard? That made sense. So did the scary dude watching the elevator. But this? This set off every villain instinct Tori had. All those checks to make it this far, and the woman Wade had running the actual entry point was a normal, put-upon secretary? When someone worked that hard to appear mundane, it usually meant they had a hell of a secret tucked up their sleeve.

  Approaching with care, Tori put on her most respectful voice. “Good afternoon. I have an appointment with Mr. Wyatt.”

  The secretary whipped her head up like she’d just noticed Tori’s entrance, large eyes made even bigger by those comically oversized glasses. As she leapt up, her knees smacked the underside of the desk, eliciting what had to be a painful thump underneath.

  “Of course! Miss Rivas. Security radioed to let us know you’d be heading up. Wade will be done in a few moments, just some private work to wrap up now that he knows you’re here. Can I get you anything while you wait? Water, soda—we even have one of those fancy coffee machines in the breakroom.”

  “A water would be great.” Much as she might like a bit of caffeine, her nerves were cranked up as things stood. Better to stay calm for what came next, and besides, she didn’t want to be a bother. Not with someone this suspicious.

  From som
ewhere under the desk, her greeter popped open a concealed fridge and produced a small, cold bottle. “Have a seat anywhere you like, and if you need anything, just give me a shout. Name is Dolores, and it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Handing over the bottle, along with a handshake, Tori accepted both, then retreated to a white leather couch to wait for her appointment. She kept one eye on the door and one eye on Dolores, not quite sure what to expect from either.

  Not a bad day so far. After the first team succeeded, Lodestar had stopped three in a row before the next team scored victory. Of that failing batch, she’d probably still promote one of them up to harder tasks; their failing had been execution more than planning, and that was an easier fix. Interestingly, despite kicking up a fuss at the outset, the New Science Sentries hadn’t taken a turn yet.

  Lodestar already knew why; she could practically hear Professor Quantum’s voice ringing in their heads. He’d have told them to make a strong impression, so if they couldn’t open the show, they’d try to close it. First or last: both tended to stick in people’s minds the most when they did something memorable. Of course, that was precisely the sort of thinking that was holding the New Science Sentries back, so perhaps this would be a good chance to demonstrate their failings.

  They weren’t a bad team, not by a long shot. They were just working to catch up with everyone else. Because Professor Quantum had taught them his way, via the old methods, he’d built a team on pure strength and crowd appeal. Everyone else had come up through the new system, where the focus was placed on being the most effective superhero possible, especially when it came to protecting civilians. Until they thought about their image second and the job first, they would always end up a step behind.

  It galled her to imagine what sorts of feats those four could accomplish if they’d been properly instructed. With their power, they should be knocking out tasks several degrees past what anyone else here could be saddled with. Given how stressed the AHC was getting as it was pulled in direction after direction, she could have really used the help, too. Thankfully, after this evaluation, there would be a few more to pitch in. Perhaps the New Science Sentries would be among them. She’d have to see what sorts of tactics they employed.