by Drew Hayes
“How did you two crazy kids meet in the first place? I’m guessing it wasn’t sharing a soda down at the malt shop.” This was something she’d been sincerely wondering for a while. The settling down part made sense because of Rick, but how did a super-villain and a normal person end up dating to start with?
The response wasn’t immediate. For an instant, Janet looked up to Ivan, and a flicker of the past flashed between them. “Stupidity, youth, and adrenaline. I was going through a rebellious phase, taking up at bars without the safest of reputations. One night, a gang decided they’d like to help themselves to the till, regardless of what the bar’s owners thought. Came in with guns drawn, screaming orders, even shoved a pistol into the face of a patron.” The wistfulness died as Janet shook her head. “When Ivan ripped the forearm from the elbow, gun still in hand, I wasn’t sure if the bar was screaming more in horror or surprise. But watching him savage those robbers... well, if I were making smart choices at the time, I wouldn’t have been there at all. There was something appealing about a man that capable.”
Having seen Ivan go into Fornax mode, Tori wasn’t sure “appealing” was the categorization she would use, but clearly she and Janet had different tastes. The story tracked—a situation like that was bound to stir someone up. The effects of adrenaline on libido were well documented. It didn’t fully explain Ivan’s side of things, but then again, Tori had never known Ivan in his Fornax days. Janet was a striking woman. If that version of Ivan was more open to socializing, she’d certainly have been able to turn his head.
“Mind you, decades later, my kids are going to be stuck at a new school while theirs is getting rebuilt, because one of Ivan’s supposed allies blew it up. So take a lesson here, Tori. Don’t hook up over bloodshed. It doesn’t lead to the wisest of choices.”
Not wanting to touch the vast majority of that topic, Tori steered into the one bit she could comment on. “It’s a shame about the school. Looked like a pretty nice place.”
“How do you know—?” The flash of understanding in her eyes came without warning. Immediately, Tori watched Janet’s entire demeanor shift. She didn’t lose the stiff spine or set chin, but the rest of her expression softened noticeably. “You’re the one.”
“I’m the one?” Tori was accustomed to hearing those words with a tone of accusation, not gratitude, momentarily blinding her to the obvious truth.
The hand was so unexpected, Tori almost jerked back before it landed lightly on her shoulder. Janet held her there, making uncomfortably direct eye contact. “Thank you, Tori, or whatever your name is while in that suit. Thank you for being the only person in that fucking guild who cared enough to go protect my children.”
It wasn’t fair; the others hadn’t even realized Rick and Beth were being targeted. Tori had only gotten the information because she beat it out of Rust Tooth when he tried to kill her. Knowing all of that versus being able to communicate it at the time were different matters, and Janet didn’t seem to be inclined toward listening where the guild was involved. Ivan could clear things up, if it mattered. Tori was just trying to get through this.
“Given the, uh, delicate situation, I, um, can neither confirm nor deny anything, ma’am.” That earned her a laugh from Janet, a gentler sound than Tori would have predicted.
“I can see why Wade paired you two up. That’s fine, Tori. You don’t need to say a word. Just know I’m grateful. Whatever else is going on in your life, you put yourself in harm’s way to protect my kids. That’s not the sort of thing I’m going to forget.” Janet released her grip, casting a glance back at the door. “Do your best to keep everyone out of trouble this weekend, if you can.”
Tori nodded, grateful to be back on semi-normal conversational ground. “Nothing to worry about. Between all of Helen’s planning and Ivan being Ivan, these kids are in excellent hands.”
Outside of people she knew quite well, Tori didn’t have much talent for reading emotions, which spoke to just how naked the vitriol on Janet’s face was at the mention of the name “Helen.” Had Tori not just been outed as the one who helped Beth and Rick, she had a hunch Janet would be letting loose some unfriendly sentiments. Instead, the expression was forced away slowly, moved by willpower rather than feeling more at ease.
“I’m sure they’ll be well cared for. Just don’t want anyone to get distracted.”
A bang from the front door pulled everyone’s attention to Beth, who was zipping along with a white cord clutched in her hands. “Found it!”
Like a magic trick, stern Janet vanished into a haze of affection as she swept her daughter up. Gone were the harsh expressions and scrutinizing stares, replaced by a loving mother bidding her child farewell.
Perhaps it was from being rattled by the meeting, or the sight of a girl wearing a Starscout uniform being held by her mom, but Tori had to look away. It came a little too close to memories of her own, as well as the ones she’d been denied. Tori had never gotten to have a moment like this. Her parents were both dead long before she’d reached Beth’s age.
When the farewell was finished, Ivan tossed Beth’s bag into the trunk, loading the girl herself into the back seat of the car moments after. Janet lingered in the yard, waving goodbye until she was no longer visible in the rearview mirror. It had been an awkward start, but with that out of the way, Ivan and Tori were hoping for a fun, non-meta-human weekend.
That alone should have tipped them off to the chaos looming on the horizon.
Chapter 71
Huge fangs, dripping in what was probably acid or venom. A massive, scaly body covered in spines and sharp edges. Three tails slapping about wildly, making any approach from the back or side difficult, funneling enemies toward that big chomping maw with the dripping teeth. All packed into creatures each roughly the size of a city bus.
Honestly, not much of a challenge, at a cursory glance. It wasn’t until Lodestar saw the flash of blue light hit and fizzle away that she understood why Wranglore, the spell-slinging cowboy, had called for backup.
Magic resistance, so these probably weren’t mutations or science experiments run amok. Rather, they were some sort of mystical being. Summoned, created, or anything in between, when magic was on the table there were a lot more options. Looking at the silver lining, they were at least fully corporeal. For all her power, Lodestar didn’t have very much non-physical versatility. She was largely pure force—anything that could phase enough to not be damaged by energy shots required help from the AHC’s own magical resources. The semi-incorporeality was why she’d needed so much help to deal with Orion and was the reason magic users were such a pain for her to handle, in general.
Given that she only had five more minutes before she needed to be at the meeting point; there wasn’t enough time to reroute the request for help. She’d just have to hope these beasts were as solid as they looked. From the sky, she dropped, increasing her speed as she went. This was no AHC evaluation; she didn’t have to hold back on anything short of lethal force, and that was only until they knew if these creatures were inherently destructive or simply looking for food. Lodestar’s speed cranked up until she could see the world in slow motion.
Wranglore had his hand cocked in a finger-gun, another spell formed at the tip of his index finger, sparking as it fired off. The nearest creature appeared to have noticed and was twisting toward him, mouth already parting. Lodestar saw a chance to test how immune these things really were, as well as help a fellow cape pitch in, so she took it. Grabbing the turning monster by the mouth, she jerked its head and pulled the jaws wider, ensuring that Wranglore’s shot would go right down its throat.
That would take some time to connect, so she kept working. Zipping over to the one in front, Lodestar slowed herself down. She had to understand what she was dealing with. Scary on the outside didn’t mean bad on the inside; that was a lesson she’d taken far too long to learn.
“Whoa there, big fella. Calm it down. How about you and me—” The words were cut off by a sudden
lunge as those huge, dripping fangs came down on top of her. It would have been simple to dodge, yet she elected not to. Instead, she waited as the teeth shattered against her, hammers of clay smashing upon an iron anvil. Since conversation failed, this would tell her the rest of what she needed to know.
It took a moment for the monster to realize it had been defanged. A moan rose from deep in its gut, something hideous, and a spray of that dripping liquid gurgled up along with it. In the last second, Lodestar let out a burst of energy, vaporizing the liquid before it made contact. She wasn’t worried about it hurting her, more concerned for how much extra work that would add to cleaning up once this was done. Today was on a particularly tight schedule.
With no teeth and its acid attack failed, Lodestar waited to see what would come next. She sighed as its jaws continued to gum against her and gurgling rose from the stomach, signaling a fresh batch of liquid attack brewing. Silly as it seemed, the action told her quite a bit. This creature was either made for killing or incredibly stubborn. Most animals would stop attacking something they had broken their teeth against, yet this one didn’t even have that level of sense. Probably non-sentient, just conjurations made by some meta messing with forces they shouldn’t have. Still, she’d play it safe until the experts could give their opinion. Wounds could be healed. There was no taking back death.
Turning the speed back on, Lodestar virtually disappeared from the maw, soaring back into the air. She wasn’t there for long, finding the nearest target and dashing right into its mouth, this time breaking the teeth herself. She did a round on the feet, making sure there were no claws to worry about, then finished by tying the three tails tightly together. For some reason, that trick rarely worked on monsters made by science, but magic ones veered closer to cartoon rules. Nobody fully grasped why that distinction existed; it was just one of the many countless mysteries of living in a meta-world.
With a system established, Lodestar grew even faster. She was a flash of light, weaving through the pack, leaving a trail of beaten monsters in her wake. When she made it back around to Wranglore, Lodestar was momentarily confused by the stunned monster with smoke rising from its nose she found near him, before she remembered opening his target’s mouth. Evidently, the magic resistance was literally skin-deep. Handy to know if these ever popped up again. Until they found the source, it couldn’t be discounted as a possibility.
Wranglore’s knockout was the final monster, so Lodestar brought herself back into normal time. Super-speed didn’t really tax her to use, but staying in that state for too long eventually made her nauseous. It was a constant mental jarring, expecting things to move at one speed then readjusting on the fly over and over again. Some metas fell in love with the speed, tried to live there for as long as they could, but to her, it was just one more tool in the kit. A useful one, though.
“—that!”
Part of the problem of moving in and out of time perceptions was dropping into conversations already in progress. Given the look on his face, she assumed Wranglore was taunting his recently defeated foe. This also gave Lodestar a front-row seat to Wranglore’s face as he took in the rest of the scene. He pushed back the rune-covered cowboy hat on his head, letting out a whistle like he was calling the herd.
“Holy... you tore right on through these things.” Wranglore threw a spurious look at his finger, still letting off a tendril of magical smoke. “I was feeling good about my one.”
“Luck of the draw,” Lodestar said. “They were resistant to magic, not fists. Another enemy, our roles easily could have been reversed.”
She gave the scene one last check, then covertly looked at the watch woven into the underside of her left bracer. “Do you mind holding down this area until cleanup arrives? I’ve got somewhere to be.”
“Seems the very least I can do, since this was my job to start.” Wranglore wiggled his hand, dispelling the last of the smoke. “Thanks for the... assist doesn’t seem like the right word here.”
“Well, it should, because that’s all I did. You uncovered the threat, located it, alerted us to the issue, and called in appropriate force before they could reach civilization. I threw a few punches. Being strong doesn’t mean diddly if I don’t know where to point that strength. You saved the day, Wranglore, and I was happy to pitch in where I could.”
Lodestar didn’t wait around after that; experience taught her it was best to depart on the uplifting statement. It helped leave things on a positive note, and delaying came with fewer graceful conversational off-ramps. That was especially important, because she was down to only two minutes left. Rising into the air, Lodestar flew faster up once more, this time cranking up to traveling speeds.
Technically speaking, the speed at which she was moving through the air should be causing friction and shockwaves, leaving untold destruction in her path. It was one of the more commonly observed curiosities since Professor Quantum broke the original laws of physics in the same legendary experiment that created meta-humans, and one that no one had a viable explanation for: the people with super-speed seemed to ignore all issues of friction. It was the same way that some metas could be so huge, and yet completely skip the square-cube law, or how super-strength translated into lifting cars rather than putting hands right through the metal. Their world was not as it had once been, and even after all these decades, they’d still only scratched the surface on understanding how the new systems worked.
For today, Lodestar was just thankful for whatever made them function as she raced across the ocean, heading back to North America. Getting in and out of the house would be easy thanks to her tunnels, but there wasn’t any need. Since returning to the AHC, she’d been picking up old habits, including one from her street-crime fighting days. Back then, she’d had nests hidden throughout Faucet Hills, places she could stop for supplies and rest. Rest wasn’t much of an issue these days, but a superhero worth her salt always had a few spare outfits around.
Zipping into an abandoned bell tower at a former East Coast college, Lodestar found the hidden silver box. Professor Quantum’s creation, these were as secure an option as she had for leaving unattended equipment. Slowing down only long enough to punch in the code, Lodestar waited as the systems engaged, hissing slightly to reveal the box’s hidden treasures. Inside were the same clothes Helen had been wearing before she got the call. A blur of light, and Lodestar switched her ensemble, adding the uniform to the contents of the box, next to a spare t-shirt and jeans. Her usual Lodestar garb was packed with the rest of her supplies for the End of Summer Shindig, which is why she’d had to snag the nest’s spare on her way. She took one last item from the box—a set of spectacles, though these were held carefully rather than being donned. Pausing to check her makeup once—mercifully, sweat was very rarely an issue in this state—Lodestar took back to the sky.
She raced across the country, until Ridge City came into view. At the sight, she felt her heart lift. It was always good to be home, especially with such a fun weekend to look forward to. Hopefully, the AHC would be okay without Lodestar for a few days. Granted, she could come if she was called, but Lodestar had been burning the candle at both ends since her return. The other side of her deserved some time, too.
It was a matter of seconds before she was at the parking lot, but Lodestar didn’t stop there. She kept going, flying a bit farther, then dropping down into one of the nearby alleyways. To be safe, she pulled out a phone-sized device and hit a small icon that flashed red, then green. Every camera in the area was either disabled or scrambled—one of Vernon’s handiest inventions, and the reason she kept a Quantum Utility Tool on her. With the coast cleared, Lodestar pulled the power back into her at the same time she donned her spectacles.
Glasses in place, Helen jogged down the alley, weaving her way back to the parking lot. In the middle of the day, at those speeds, the odds that anyone had seen Lodestar arriving were infinitesimal, but it never hurt to be extra cautious. Even given the special identity protections Helen had,
she still played it safe where she could. The life of a public cape was not one she wanted, for her or Penelope.
Helen arrived a full three minutes before the bus pulled in, which still beat the earliest time the Starscouts would start showing up by half an hour. After going over details with the driver, she did a quick tour of the vehicle, eyes peeled for any potential issues, of which she uncovered none. It was a little old and a bit run-down, but they hadn’t exactly paid for top-of-the-line luxury. The bus was safe, which mattered most, and she could always stick Ivan in one of the broken seats that didn’t recline. Relaxation and Ivan went together like mint and orange juice.
By the time her tour was done, a car was pulling into the lot. Too early for the kids, and besides, she recognized that nondescript sedan, just like she knew the intentionally bland man stepping out of it. He did seem more animated than usual, his resting-stern face replaced by interest in his conversation with Beth. The others in the AHC would probably never see this side of him, would never let themselves see it, even if they had a chance. It was so much easier when the capes were good and the villains were bad. Getting in too close, realizing how much more was at play, understanding that the people they fought were more than their crimes... it made things complicated. Not always bad, but never easy.
Tori was right behind Ivan and Beth, and she threw Helen a grin as they saw one another. Another villain she shouldn’t be getting close with. The reports of Hephaestus’s conflict with the New Science Sentries had already reached her, as did photographs of the scene that team didn’t see. For her, it was obvious; Hephaestus had been on lookout duty, keeping the AHC members away from the real show. Horribly, a piece of her was even thankful for it. Helen wasn’t sure any of them were experienced enough to handle that kind of scene. At least it had happened on a weekend when Ivan had his kids. It was a small mercy that she didn’t have to add his potential presence into the whole confusing equation.