by Drew Hayes
Finally noticing her arrival, Donald broke off from his conversation, walking over to embrace Tori warmly. She returned the gesture. It was nice to see him again outside of capes, masks, and kidnapping. When they broke apart, Tori thought she saw Kyle staring, though, when she looked closer, he appeared to be looking past them, at the barbecue.
“Well, well, well, the great superhero finally has time to see his friends from the cubicle days. Let me guess, you want to know if Barb is still pushing for Popcorn Fridays, or if Mustache Stan ever took the hint about microwaving fish.”
“All of it, all of it and more. Don’t you dare skip over the detailed minutes from the last monthly status meeting.”
Tori chuckled, even as the others stared in confusion. Running office jokes didn’t tend to actually be funny; they were more comforting, a constant one could depend upon. In that brief exchange, Tori saw a flash of the old Donald, before the weight of superpowers and the duty they entailed had been yoked around his shoulders. Pleasant though the glimpse was, Tori brought them back to the present. “You know, everyone is really proud of you. When your team does something big, it gets brought up in meetings; Barb even has a ‘Cyber Geek’s Greatest Hits’ wall where she posts news clippings.”
The words hit heavier than she’d expected. Donald almost seemed to have the breath drop out of him. “That’s... unexpected. Your uncle mentioned there was some support the last time we spoke. I never imagined it would be that much. When I was around after the change, most of them seemed so uncomfortable, not sure of how to act around me.”
“People don’t always respond to change well, or quickly,” Beverly interjected. “Obviously doesn’t hurt that now they’re seeing you out there all the time, helping innocents and saving the day.” She patted him once on the shoulder, then wandered over to the coolers with Chloe close behind.
Since Donald still seemed momentarily taken aback, Kyle jumped on the opportunity to join the conversation. “It sounds like you work with your uncle? That’s got to be an interesting experience.”
Every single warning light in Tori’s brain flashed like a nuclear launch had just been announced. Of all the fucking things to mention, Donald had to bring up Ivan. Worse, he mentioned their fake connection, meaning Tori was about to be intrinsically linked to him. Donald was one thing—he was fully tricked by Ivan’s mundane persona. If the New Science Sentries got too close, they might catch something, and that could lead to all manner of trouble.
Unfortunately, try as she might, her brain refused to offer up any solution for how to dodge the question while in Donald’s presence. He minimized her ability to obfuscate or lie, so her only choice was to tell the truth, and really lean on how boring and unworthy of discussion her supposed uncle was.
“Oh yeah, it’s the best. Total adherence to schedule, constantly double-checking my work, endless feedback, whether I want it or not. Ivan’s a good uncle and a solid manager, but he’s so uptight and by-the-book.”
The small nods from Donald backed up her claim nicely. “While Mr. Gerhardt is one of the better bosses I’ve had, he does tend to be a bit stiff.”
Tori spotted the approach as it was coming, the two forms she’d yet to meet out of costume wandering over, arriving behind Donald before he registered their presence. The shorter one tapped a finger on her team leader’s arm, digging the nail in slightly to make sure he noticed.
“Going to introduce us?”
Donald didn’t seem to mind the nail—that might just be her way, and he was accustomed to it. He greeted the arrival with the same timid smile as always, gesturing to both women as he faced Tori. “Of course. Perfect timing, too. Tori, this is Irene and Lucy. We work together, and you can probably guess how, but I’ll keep the details light. Irene and Lucy, Tori is a friend of mine from my cubical days.”
“Trust me, we know,” Irene commented. She extended a hand to Tori, which Tori accepted. The woman didn’t seem especially distant to her, in particular; rather, her persona read more as an overall antisocial aura, something Tori could not only respect, but understood and envied. Left to her own devices, she’d be affecting a similar vibe, or skipping the outing entirely.
Lucy didn’t offer a hand. Instead, she gripped Tori in a tight hug the moment Irene let go and she turned to face the freckled woman. “It’s wonderful to meet you! Donald has told us such nice things. I can’t wait to get to know you better.”
Was there such thing as social whiplash? If so, Lucy and Irene were the tag-team champs of it. Barely recovered, Tori did her best to return the dual greeting. “Good to meet you both, as well. What’s say we all move away from the doorway and into the party proper? That cooler is calling my name.”
“A woman after my own heart.” Ike materialized at the edge of the group, sipping from his own open bottle. “If I had one, anyway. Donald, Ren sent me over. Ellie wanted to get some games going and your buddy said you were the man to see.”
Looking somehow sheepish, despite the innocuous request, Donald offered Tori an apologetic shrug. “The joys of being the item guy.”
“I had to chill all the drinks. We pitch in where we can.” Irene clapped him on the back. “Come on. We’ll force Ren to hurry up and choose so you can get back to the revelry.”
“Let’s talk more later,” Lucy called to Tori, before following them both over to Ren.
Ike vanished again, reappearing next to Ren and leaving Tori alone with Kyle, who didn’t linger before gesturing to the refreshment area. “I believe you mentioned needing a drink.”
“Excellent listening skills. Those will take you far.” They walked together over to the cooler, her taking a beer while Kyle pulled out a glass container with what appeared to water inside, marked by three X’s in a row, like an old-time moonshine jug.
“Damn it, Ike, that wasn’t what I meant when I said to label these.” Kyle yelled the words, but Ike’s attention was lost in the sparks of blue light as Donald produced various objects for the night’s activities. “I didn’t want anyone to drink this by mistake. Not healthy for those without super-speed metabolism.”
Cracking the lid, Kyle took a sip, his whole body tensing as the liquid passed his lips. “Oof. That is terrible every time. Cheers?” He held up his bottle, to which Tori clinked her own.
It was surreal to see the New Science Sentries like this, less than a day after fighting with them. In the field, they’d been terrifying. Fast, brutal, efficient—only quick thinking and a few surprises had kept her people out of jail. Yet tonight, they looked like little more than a few goofballs in their twenties. Then again, what did she look like to them? And what would their impression of Ivan be? The more Tori pondered it all, the more she wondered how many other people in her past had been living double lives. The deeper into all of this she got, the harder it was not to speculate about how much she’d missed before.
“Part of me has always been jealous of this.” With a sweeping gesture, Kyle motioned to the entire roof and all its merrymakers. “Live a normal life, make friends, have fun, be happy. Regular people don’t worry about whether or not they’ll be blown apart by some unknown meta, or fail to save someone in peril.”
“Actually, everyone worries about the first one—it’s just part of life these days,” Tori corrected. “I’ll give you the second point, though.” She examined Kyle’s face, not sure if even he knew how wistful it currently appeared. “You could have that, if you really wanted it. Nobody is forced to be a cape.”
“No, I couldn’t. Even if I had it in me to leave my friends behind, it’s only the parts like this that I envy. Tomorrow morning, all the people with normal jobs will wake up to go toil away at things they probably don’t care about, simply powering through their days. I’m going to wake up and make the world better, might even get to save a few people. There’s no trading that life in, once it has its teeth in you. When all is said and done, this is the only job for me, so I have to be good at it.”
The kick Tori could still r
ecall ringing her entire suit seemed to indicate that Kyle was well on his way to achieving that, but she couldn’t exactly say it. Instead, she went with something more suited to her perspective than Hephaestus’s. “I’m no expert on capes, but for what it’s worth, every time I’ve seen you fuck up, you own it. You take responsibility and try to fix it or improve, so there won’t be repeats. It hasn’t escaped my notice that no more saved civilians have ended up in Tachyonic’s arms on camera.”
“Maybe I just haven’t saved anyone else worthy of sweeping off their feet.”
Tori rolled her eyes at what she assumed to be a joke, then kept on going. “My point is, if your goal is to be a great superhero, learning from your mistakes seems like an excellent policy to have. Keep that up, and eventually, you’ll run out of new mistakes to make. Pretty sure that’s what they call being competent.”
From the other end of the roof, a cheer went up as tennis rackets were being passed out while Donald was summoning flashing orbs the size of softballs. Ike appeared directly in front of Tori and Kyle, holding a racket in each hand.
“The game has been chosen. It’s sort of like racquetball, only with magic balls that fly around. From some game called Electro-Sport Rodeo, which I might have to buy the next time we’ve got a day off. Take your weapons and come gather for the choosing of teams. If you’re last, they’ll stick you with me.”
Lifting the racket he’d been handed, Kyle waved it slightly. “Guess that means it’s game on?”
“Eh, why not? It’ll help work up an appetite for dinner.” More importantly, playing an active game made conversation harder, and they’d done plenty of talking for Tori’s tastes.
Besides, some part of her couldn’t resist the opportunity for a rematch, even if the game was different this time around.
Chapter 66
Taking a sip from her plastic cup of wine, Beverly surveyed the rooftop scene carefully. Unlike Tori, she hadn’t spent the majority of her life eyeball deep in electronics, meaning she had a better grasp of social nuance. Not that the talent was especially called for—most people would have picked up on the dynamics at play, if not spotted them immediately.
Donald and Tori were sitting on chairs, plates loaded with barbecue, catching up on life. While they weren’t technically alone—others were seated near them—by keeping the topic to their old lives, they’d effectively locked everyone else out of the conversation. For most of the other revelers, that was no matter at all, but two of the attendees seemed not-quite-comfortable with how familiar the former coworkers were.
One of them, Beverly had seen coming. It wasn’t hard to note the way Kyle’s fondness for Tori had grown through their interactions. Maybe it was her lack of giving a shit about superheroes, or her brusque nature, but something had been winning him over despite their initial impression. Not that Tori appeared to have registered even the slightest iota of it. It was hard to be too tough on her, given that Donald was getting the same looks thrown his way from Lucy. While there was a chance those glances were out of concern for a team member, it wouldn’t be the bet Beverly tossed her money on.
Ike was still occasionally turning his head toward Ellie, who was mostly talking to Austin and Lucy, as Ren and Chloe were in a discussion about a surprise shared interest in some obscure winter sport they’d evidently both grown up watching. Between all the secret identities and hidden feelings, Beverly was starting to feel like she’d stepped into a meta-human version of high school. Not great, but then, she hadn’t been able to turn into a dragon in real high school. That wasn’t a terrible trade-off.
“Taking a breather?” Of all the capes on the roof, Irene was the easiest to lose track of. Short, intentionally bland wardrobe, largely quiet, she essentially vanished amidst the larger forms and personalities of the others.
“Enjoying the stars for a moment.” Beverly had selected her seat partially for this excuse, as it was the point on the roof furthest from any light source. That also made it furthest from sound and activity and was an excellent spot for unwinding.
Irene also boasted a plastic cup, the fizz from within marked it as either a soda or a cocktail, rather than wine. She took a soft sip, then settled down onto one of the cheap lawn chairs dotting the roofscape. Once she was comfortable, she drank once more, then let out a grunt.
“Spot anything interesting?”
“Stars don’t tend to change,” Beverly replied.
“These days, you never know. I wasn’t talking about the sky, though.” Irene pointed over to the party, then to Beverly herself. “You’re over here hugging the sidelines, trying to get a read on everyone.”
Beverly wasn’t entirely sure how to react, largely because she didn’t know if the words were meant as a compliment or an insult. Rather than make a guess, she decided to play things neutral. “That’s an interesting way to look at it. Here I thought I was just taking a breather.”
“Maybe you were, and I got the wrong read. Doesn’t happen often, mind you. When you’re easy to ignore, people let down their guard; helps with catching details. I’m doing pretty well tonight, though, this snafu not counted. Clocked Donald’s crush on Tori, and of course, there’s Lucy’s on Donald. Seems Ike has some unresolved feelings of his own, and then there’s Austin.”
Those looks, Beverly hadn’t caught as many of. That was the nature of things, it was always easier to observe as an outsider. She’d seen snippets of enough to know that they were there. Short flashes, never overt, slightly too constant to be a coincidence. Austin was a knot of complications, none of which Beverly felt like diving into with someone she’d just met. “I work hard to look good. Doesn’t bother me that he took notice.”
“Except, he’s not the only one who hasn’t been as discreet as they think.” Irene punctuated the statement with another sip from her cup, eyes darting between Beverly and Austin, just in case there was any confusion.
“This is a strange way to try to make new friends.” Beverly didn’t have a reasonable defense to offer: explaining that she’d been watching him in case he was watching her didn’t sound real in her head, let alone as actual words. Her only option was to redirect and hope they veered into a more manageable topic.
“Never been something I’m very good at,” Irene agreed. “A little too observant, and much too honest. Thought I might have spotted a kindred soul, but if that’s not the case, then sorry to have bothered you.”
The chair scraped along the rough surface as Irene pushed it back, rising to her feet. Beverly had a snap judgment to make. Before her current living situation, she would have let the cape walk away, happy for the interaction to be over. Time with Tori had given Beverly more insight to the less socially inclined, however. While it would have been easy to read the whole exchange as an uncomfortable moment, she could also recognize that it had been Irene attempting to reach out, in her own odd way.
“Stop,” Beverly commanded, her tone far more certain than it had been moments prior. “Sit and relax. You weren’t necessarily wrong, that doesn’t mean I want to talk about it.”
Pausing only to readjust the chair so it was angled to better face Beverly, Irene retook her seat. “I can understand that. How about something more standard to first meetings: what do you do?”
The smile on Beverly’s face threatened to push Irene back with how fast and strong it came on. Had she been praying for a topic she could speak on at length without going anywhere near romance or capes, Beverly might have thought someone up there was actually listening.
“What do I do? Settle in, because I’m about to explain the economics of running a fashion content website.”
For as good as Irene might have been at reading facial cues, she wasn’t especially adept at concealing her own horrified expression.
Turning the orb around in her long fingers, Lozora examined the handiwork. She’d never gotten to see any of Cobblord’s creations up close and personal before; in Rookstone, he’d been denied any materials for obvious reasons. On the in
side, he’d been a quiet, bookish man who kept to himself. He’d have been eaten within the first week, if not for his usefulness. Cobblord’s particular talent made him handy enough to earn protection from some of the more dangerous residents of Rookstone’s lowest levels, a debt he’d apparently been paying off since he regained his freedom.
What she held now was a custom job, and not a cheap one, either. Much as she’d have liked to knock it on the side like she was checking a mango, the truth was, she had no idea what she was looking at. It could be a round rock with fancy designs for as much as she could tell. Rather than read the product, Lozora elected to keep her attention on Cobblord’s bespectacled face.
“You’re sure this will hold Fornax?”
“Certainly not.” For as nervous as he always looked, the trepidation never touched his voice. “To my knowledge, that’s impossible. It will contain Fornax, for a time, until he breaks free. How long that will take, I can’t say. I added a lot of distance, so it would take time to travel, and some obstacles along the way, but there’s really no stopping Fornax. Only slowing him down, which is what I was hired to do.”
Cockier now that he had a bit of leverage, though Lozora couldn’t fault him for drilling down on specifics. Working with these sorts of people meant that, when things went wrong, blame was quick to be spread, so Cobblord wanted to be explicit about what his product was supposed to do. It was a pointless worry. She wouldn’t have the option to kill him until the second version was completed, and even then, it was an order she’d probably ignore. Her current employer was scary; that didn’t mean he was the person that terrified Lozora the most.
“Fine, so this will slow Fornax down. We deploy it this weekend. I’ll bring the results afterward. He’ll expect a quick turnaround time on this one.”
“They always do. Updates are easier than creation. I still have the model that one was cast from.” Cobblord nodded to the orb, then spun in the leather chair, turning back to his workstation. “It was good to see you, Lozora. Now that I know you’re my go-between, I’ll have appropriate snacks for our next meeting. As I recall, you enjoyed the composition of weight lifters the most.”