by Drew Hayes
This wasn’t a warning. It was notice so they could be prepared to live that day to its fullest. Deep down, Stasis almost felt a flicker of sadness for these Wrexwren. The dumb fucks really had no idea what kind of planet they’d be stepping onto.
“All interested parties should contact their council representative for more information. We’ll have various travel networks in place on the day of, depositing guild members onto scenes as they become active. Standard guild fees apply.”
With that, the screen went black once more. Johnny’s eyes were already gleaming; Stasis could all but hear the clatter of coins smacking into each other as he rubbed his hands together. “Aliens, capes, and combat—oh my. What entertaining bets I’m going to see on this one.”
Thuggernaut’s reaction was more subdued, and worrying. The big man closed his meaty fist a single time, squeezing it tightly. “It’s been a while since I got a real match in. I wonder how strong they are.”
That was something they’d definitely be finding out; Stasis had little doubt there. With Doc getting everyone prepped and the guild handling the transportation, the villains would be incredibly mobile by the time their visitors arrived. No matter where the aliens set down, they’d soon find themselves beset not just by the planet’s defenders, but by its demons. After being dragged into the light and forced out of Ridge City, the entire guild was spoiling to throw a punch. There was no chance they’d be able to hold back once they finally had a viable target.
She tossed an elbow into Thuggernaut’s side—the only way to get his attention given his overall bulk. “I’m sure the opera is great and all, but it can’t compete with an alien invasion.”
“Depends on the opera—and the aliens, I’d expect,” Thuggernaut shot back. There was no mistaking the fire in his eyes, though. He was excited. “Perhaps I’ll book some training sessions, just to make sure I’m not rusty. If they’ve crossed light years to see our planet, only seems polite to show them our very best efforts.”
“Last time he talked like that, we had to haul people to the hospital in a garbage truck. Count me in.” Johnny had a notebook he’d produced from a pocket in hand and was already scrawling rapidly into it. “We can have one of the homebodies run the betting board. I’m not missing my chance at some fun.”
It was the same throughout the room, and likely the guild as a whole. The idea of bloodshed should have had them concerned, but that was why they were here in the first place. This was not an organization of petty criminals and simple ruffians. It was a home of villains, beings defined by their power and ambitions. They didn’t see a threat; they saw a challenge, a chance to test themselves against invaders from another world.
When the Wrexwren arrived, they would find the guild ready, waiting, and above all else, burning for a fight.
Chapter 68
As the final Starscout meeting before the weekend’s End of Summer Shindig, the evening served largely as one last preparation session for the children as well as their cluster leaders. The kids were finishing up banners, signs, and other craft projects that would hang alongside the other clusters’ work, marking their respective areas. Ivan was manning the kitchen while simultaneously running through a checklist of items to make sure everyone packed and surreptitiously making notes on the ones he knew at least a few of the kids would forget. He’d already cooked enough treats and snacks to keep them fed on a weeklong march; Tori was almost certain there would be some sort of magic at work to fit it all in his car on the drive up.
Helen appeared to have settled on guiding the kids and messing with Ivan as her main trip-planning tactics. To her credit, she was excellent at both, helping the scouts stay on task while calling out that Ivan had skipped ridiculous items such as inflatable bounce houses and standing sleeping bags. If it annoyed him, he was hiding it from the room, though Tori was fairly sure he didn’t mind. Ivan wasn’t a terribly expressive person—perhaps that was why she and her mentor understood one another as well as they did. It almost seemed like he was enjoying Helen’s teasing, which was possible. They were both single adults and perfectly entitled to flirt, though she’d be surprised to see Ivan on a date. One more person to keep secrets from didn’t seem like it would be that appealing to him.
Tori herself was mostly filling in where needed: grabbing more supplies for the kids, cleaning up small messes before they became big ones, generally working support for the enterprise as a whole. She dropped a fresh bottle of glue next to Beth and Armand, who were teaming up on a particularly intricate glitter-star on the cluster’s sign, noting that Ivan’s daughter whispered, “Thanks,” even in the midst of her work. The more Tori saw of Beth, the fonder she became. All of the kids were growing on her, though she was still quite happy when the meetings came to an end. Fondness or no, Tori only had so much energy to give.
“Hey, Tori, heads up! One for the trash.” Helen called the warning before she tossed over an empty tube of paint, which Tori snatched from the air. “Nice! Someone’s got the kvizblork tonight.”
The tube of paint almost slipped from Tori’s firm grasp in surprise. “Did you just quote The Sashay of Gelzork?” There was no way she’d heard that right; it was much too deep of a cut, even for someone else who liked foreign flicks. Tori’s uncertainty lasted only until she finished tossing away the tube and caught the wide-eyed glee in Helen’s reaction.
“You got that? Hot dog, nobody else I know digs into the Omdilbom section on Multerion.” The excitement brimming from Helen was one Tori was almost embarrassingly familiar with; it was the energy of someone with a secret passion who’d finally found an outlet. “Did you watch any of the Kaldesian octology, or Finding the Tesseract?”
At Helen’s feet, a curious face turned from the sheet of construction paper and up to the cluster leader. “What are you talking about?” Caden always looked a tad confused, but now, his forehead was positively scrunched.
“We’re talking about movies,” Helen explained. “Movies from other planets and cultures found across the broad array of alternate universes. Multerion is a service that collects and exports the greatest artistic achievements in film, ones that reoccurred over and over in various verses. Works of high art, meant to be shared with more than just the world that created them.”
At Caden’s side, Mallory leaned over, whispering with the trademark loudness of a child. “She means movies with subtitles.”
“Oh.” With that, the entirety of Caden’s interest fled, his face turning back to the construction paper, utterly exiting the conversation.
“They don’t all have subtitles.” Helen seemed more to be grumbling to herself than the kids. “A lot of them are from worlds that look and sound like ours.”
Loud noises from the kitchen signaled Ivan’s emergence with a tray of steaming cookies. Most of these would be saved for the trip, though a few were fated to be consumed by the current swarm of children. Such was the tithe for baking around them. Noting the already hungry stares, Helen snapped into motion so the sweets would have time to cool.
“Okay, everyone, let’s take a crafting break.” Helen managed to pull both their attention and their silence with a calm voice, a talent that untold teachers would have killed to steal. “Find a good stopping point. It’s time to stretch those legs for a bit. If you’ll all follow me into the backyard, we can review our weekend events and make sure no one has questions, then play some practice rounds so everyone is comfortable. By the time we’re done, I suspect Mr. Gerhardt’s cookies will be ready. Tori, could you come with and give me a hand?”
Having seen where this was headed, Tori was already moving for Helen’s side. Across the room, Ivan was scooping the cookies onto a wire cooling rack, cutting down on the amount of time they’d have to buy. He looked over to Helen, and it almost seemed as if a smile was trying to force its way onto his face. Instead, it warped into words as he called over to them. “Should I presume you’d like me to hold one back for you?”
“Utah, gimme two.” Helen bumped
Tori with her shoulder, the shine of expectation nearly glowing on her.
Might as well come clean, rather than drag this out and cause more disappointment. “Um, I haven’t really gone through everything yet. Mostly just the sci-fi ones.” Tori braced for Helen to be disappointed; instead, she was treated to a grown woman actually clapping her hands together in excitement.
“Hang on. You haven’t even seen… wow. Wow. So many amazing things to show you.” A rowdy swell of noise from the kids brought her back to the moment at hand. “Later. Things to show you later. For now, let’s get out there and do our best. After this, the next time we get together is for the drive on Friday. Make sure you feel ready.”
The scent of cookies still hung heavy as they herded the kids out into the night air, which was just cool enough that a bonfire would be perfect once the weekend rolled around. So far as Tori could tell, the kids seemed pretty prepared. No new cluster members meant they’d all been to at least one of these before, and Helen had been adamant about ensuring that every child knew what to expect. Maybe it was a safety issue, so that if anything did suddenly go off-kilter, the kids would be wise to it.
Such security was obviously unnecessary, not that Tori held it against Helen. The woman had no way of knowing that her supposed cookie-slinger was a nigh-unstoppable force of destruction, one that would do anything to keep his daughter safe. Sometimes, seeing him in that apron, Tori had to remind herself about who else Ivan was. That was what made his cover so perfect, and so powerful. Even the New Science Sentries, when trying to solve the mystery of Fornax, had tossed off any notion that he would live a simple, human life.
That party had been a clear reminder of the stakes at play where secret identities were concerned, reinforcing the importance of that separation. Tori’s main goal for the End of Summer Shindig was for nothing out of the ordinary to occur. Barring that, her primary focus would be on keeping the kids safe and protecting Ivan’s secret. Because if something did come to cause trouble, there was no way Ivan wouldn’t stop it, very possibly exposing his secret in the process. Crazy as the worry was, Tori couldn’t shake it—not when she knew the consequences. Fornax might not have warrants out anymore, but Ivan would never have his normal life back if the truth came out. No more regular job in middle management, no more blending in, and definitely no leading a Starscout cluster.
Although, part of Tori would have liked to see the look on Lodestar’s face if she ever found out that Fornax, of all people, had worn the uniform of a cluster leader.
Beverly changed the pattern, watching as the computer loaded a new design onto the digital model, then frowned. Still too busy. She needed something that would tell the owner at a glance what was the front versus the back of the purse, yet wasn’t so gaudy the buyers would be ashamed to carry them.
It was possible that Beverly was being more critical than she needed to be out of nerves, trying to keep her mind off the coming visitor. Though she hadn’t taken Chloe up on the private room, she had elected to have the meeting at Ridge City Roasters. Despite the late hour, her corner of the room was oddly unoccupied, something she attributed to Chloe managing even from behind the counter.
The moment Ambrose walked in, she knew it. Not many fellows cast a shadow that tall and wide, or carried themselves with his level of confidence. Ambrose looked like what Beverly had thought of as a cape growing up: big, strong, and with a pronounced chin. It was hardly surprising she’d made that association, either. As her biggest brother, Ambrose had been her hero before she even knew what capes were.
He opened his arms to hug her, then suddenly lost a step. At sight, they’d been overtaken by familiarity, but now the awkwardness of their situation had returned full-force. Beverly ignored the hesitation, barreling in and hugging her brother tightly. Seconds later, he returned the gesture, until they finally parted and hunkered down at the table.
“You look well,” Ambrose observed. “Managing to deal with roommates so far?”
“Compared to all the family coming and going at our house? I might as well be living at a spa, it’s so peaceful.”
The start of a frown tugged at his lips. “Not how I’d categorize having a roommate become national news.” It seemed they weren’t going to avoid the main topics up front; Ambrose was diving right in.
“Because that was obviously her fault.” Even Beverly was surprised by the venom in her voice. She was sick of the bullshit Tori had been dealing with just from the sidelines.
Ambrose was momentarily taken aback, though he soon gathered himself. “Right, of course not. I just meant it could potentially be dangerous. No one’s fault, only the situation as it stands.”
Beverly leaned in, glad for an excuse to cut past the pretense. “Dangerous for who, exactly? Are you scared some kidnappers are going to come calling in the middle of the night? And then what? You know guns don’t work, and I’ve learned more tricks since then.”
“That is precisely what I was afraid of.” Ambrose rubbed the back of his neck, where a small scar from rogue shrapnel still acted up when he got stressed. “You’ve been experimenting with it? I understand you had to get control, but pushing further is too risky. What if you get stuck that way, or start to lose your sense of self? That monster is scary as hell with you in the driver’s seat. I don’t want to imagine it running wild.”
“Then your advice would be to ignore that I even have this power at all, keep it locked up for the rest of my life?” Beverly demanded.
“Only if getting rid of it entirely isn’t an option.” In contrast to the words, Ambrose’s tone was gentle. It was plain to see that this was all coming from concern for his sister, which at least made it more palatable. “You’re messing with magic you know nothing about, except that you found it in Gran’s collection of junk. If you want to be stronger, we can get you there. Without magic, without powers, without anything even remotely connected to those fucking capes.”
The last bit came out harsher, but Ambrose didn’t slow down. “That’s the biggest fear around the house, you know. That one day, we’ll turn on the screen and see you out there, wearing the outfit, serving that piece of shit and his organization.”
Beverly’s hand landed firmly on Ambrose’s, squeezing it tight. “Look: nobody, me included, knows where my life is heading right now. This was a curveball that I was in no way braced for, but I’m not going to pretend it didn’t happen. I have these powers. Maybe I’ll choose not to use them; maybe I’ll find a good outlet. Either way, I have to face what I am to get past this. That said, the one thing you will never have to worry about is me working for Professor Quantum. If I get within punching distance of that motherfucker, you better believe he’s going to be seeing green. Scaly green and fist-shaped, to be precise.”
“Not exactly what the family was hoping to hear, but it’s an excellent starting point.” Ambrose laid his other hand on top of hers, creating a hand sandwich, and pressed it between his. “I suppose the next step is for you to tell me about these ‘tricks’ you’ve been working on.”
“Aren’t you worried that asking me about it might come off as encouragement?”
This time, there was nothing muted about Ambrose’s expression; he broke into a smile that lit his whole face. “Speaking as a representative of the family, it’s a necessary risk for bonding. But speaking as your big brother, I might be coaxed to admit that dragon-shifting powers do seem pretty cool. Enough to warrant at least a few questions, and a bit of subtle encouragement.”
Ambrose winked, and Beverly closed her laptop. It was starting to look like she’d want to be here for a while.
Chapter 69
The hurdle shot up from the ground, moving so fast no normal person could have reacted in time. Kyle swung wide with ease, his enhanced sense of time rendering the surprise in slow motion. Touching a few sections of his new bracer, he altered the setlium output slightly, dropping his speed. Professor Quantum didn’t permit the same failures twice. In his eyes, a piece of tech failing
meant it needed to be refined, situation be damned. It was part of his philosophy as a whole: improve upon what worked, cast aside everything else.
In this case, the new bracer had an updated interface allowing for easier control, reinforced construction to make it harder to break, and it now sent an emergency signal to stabilize the output if it was damaged or disconnected. Next time a villain targeted the bracer, even if they succeeded in disabling it, Tachyonic wouldn’t spin out of control. It would be nice to feel as sure about his own capabilities.
As he ducked under a spray of darts, Kyle felt the suit shift with him, flooding his body with high amounts of setlium radiation. He was supposedly lucky, according to Professor Quantum. Not many metas could handle a technique like this; their cells wouldn’t drink it in the way his did. This level of augmentation was possible only thanks to that unique talent. Even Austin and Professor Quantum couldn’t amplify themselves this way. Then again, they also didn’t require the extra help. They were strong enough to hold their own without the need for supplemental tools.
It was an old sore spot in his ego, one that Kyle would consistently feel like he’d moved past, only to be knocked back into it sooner or later. He wasn’t enough without the external help. All the others, even Ike, were on the team under their own power. Kyle alone needed the boost to stand alongside them. And this was a victory; there had been a time he didn’t think he’d make the cut. That was why he had to be better—at the job, at supporting his team, all of it. Kyle had to prove he belonged there, that he wasn’t just Austin’s plus one, brought on out of friendship more than talent.