by Drew Hayes
Nearby, in the kitchen, Janet kept her voice low and controlled, a well-honed skill from their married days, when these discussions were far more frequent. “What the hell happened out there?”
“It’s like the news says. Someone tossed a maze, and it snagged all of us. I made sure the kids were safe, while the others worked to get us out.”
“Uh huh. ‘Someone’ threw a maze. Weird, how they’d use a device worth millions to the right buyer on a Starscout cluster, run by a middle manager and a whatever-she-pretends-to-be. Just admit it, they were picking a fight with her, and our daughter got caught in the middle, like I always warned you she would.” Janet glanced into the living room, making sure the kid in question was still resting. “Well this is the last straw. Tomorrow, we are going to explain to Beth—”
“It was me,” Ivan interrupted. He didn’t want to agitate her by being rude, but Janet could also be hard to derail once she had momentum going. Better to get the truth out while it was still capable of being considered. “We don’t know much yet, but I was able to exchange a few words with Tori after the release. Enough to be aware that I was the target, and Beth being in there wasn’t a coincidence.”
Her head of steam died slowly as Ivan’s words sank in. What took its place was far worse, in Ivan’s esteem. Janet was past angry, the heat of rage giving way to the pure, unrelenting cold of true fury. When she spoke again, it was with the sort of unnerving calm that had always intrigued Ivan. The facet was, in honesty, part of what had formed their initial attraction.
“You promised me this wouldn’t happen. You looked me in the eyes, and you told me they’d stay away. That your identity was secret enough, and even the few who did find out would keep clear. Because no one would dare mess with Fornax, or the ones he loves.”
The words were all but a slap, and Ivan glanced over himself to be sure that Beth was still conked out. Using that name in her home was not something Janet did lightly.
“Don’t think for a moment that I wanted—”
“Our baby just got dragged into an orb in the goddamn sky, I don’t give a fuck what you want.” It was Janet’s turn to interrupt, and she hissed the words—likely the only way she could resist from screaming them. “You know I want? I want to spend tonight with my husband and kids, having a nice dinner, not calling a child psychologist who specializes in meta-related trauma. I want to not see that suspicious glint in Rick’s eyes every time he looks at either of us these days. I want to stop lying awake every single night wondering when it will all come crashing down, when your secret gets out and their lives become insane—assuming they’re lucky enough to make it through. I want our children to be safe, Ivan.”
She finally paused, taking a moment to compose herself. Only once Ivan was sure she’d said her piece did he speak once more. “As do I. More than anything in the world. There is nothing I won’t do to protect those two.”
“Except, apparently, your current plan isn’t working. This is the second time in a calendar year our kids have been targeted because of you.” Janet was looking more centered now, the initial shock of the revelation giving way to her relentless thought. She seemed to take him in as he stood there, looking over every detail of the aggressively mundane appearance. Her tone softened considerably. “Ivan, no one, not even her, knows better than I do how hard you worked to leave Fornax behind when Rick arrived. Whatever issues we might have, you have always been an amazing father to those kids, and I am wowed by the transformation you made. But maybe... maybe right now, they don’t need their father as much as they need the demon he used to be.”
The words came out heavy, as such a sentiment should be. She never looked away, however. Janet knew what she was saying, asking, in a way that very few could. “People aren’t afraid the way they once were. Achievements have turned into history, stories into myths. You did such a good job living in the shadows that Fornax’s legend faded.”
“Your solution is that I take revenge for this incident, I assume?” Ivan wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about the idea she was floating; instead, he focused on making it through the conversation. It had been a very long weekend. He dearly needed some time to decompress.
“Revenge? The kind where your people show up and the perpetrators are never heard from again? No, Ivan. This demands more than death from the shadows. This needs to be a spectacle.” Ivan felt a slight chill at Janet’s steady, unwavering gaze. “Crack their bones, sear their skin, drop their severed heads onto the tables of their closest allies. Break these pieces of shit, the way only the great destroyer can, and make sure the world sees. Show them what happens to anyone who goes against Fornax.”
Between the two of them, Ivan was undeniably the greater danger. Even without his meta-human abilities, he had a lifetime of combat training and the willingness to do harm in ways most people could never obtain. However, that didn’t mean Janet was some shrinking violet, content to live in willful ignorance. Protecting her children always came first. She knew full well what she was asking, and there wasn’t so much as a flicker of doubt.
“If I do something like that, the AHC is going to turn the heat way up. There might be unexpected consequences.”
“Glad you mentioned them, actually,” Janet replied. “Reminds me—pass a message along to her: I want to have a word.”
That was a bad idea. A terrible idea, for an abundance of reasons, none of which Ivan could find a tactful way to bring up. Ultimately, he decided to stall for time until he could think of something. “I’ll let her know, but she’s often busy. Might be a while before she responds.”
“Tell her to use that damn super-speed. The way she should have inside that stupid maze, so a bunch of kids wouldn’t have spent a weekend being kidnapped.”
Though Ivan had gotten a rough outline of the labyrinth’s setup and limitations during his brief talk with Tori, he declined to bring any of it up. For the moment, Janet was angry and scared; the facts weren’t going to matter. Ivan understood that all too well, because he was feeling exactly the same thing. The fact that Beth had been included on purpose terrified him down to his very core. Life was so fleeting, so easily snatched away, and he couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to either of his kids.
Which was why the anger inside was taking significant effort to hold back. Janet was freer with her emotions, because she could afford to be. Harsh words weren’t the same as what slipped loose when Ivan’s control wavered. Worse, part of him was already wondering if Janet was right. Was his best move to dole out this punishment publicly? The Apollo fight was a slipup; he hadn’t willingly acted as Fornax in years. Perhaps that was part of the reason these new threats felt so emboldened.
Janet had raised some valid points, yet Ivan still remained hesitant. Not because he didn’t relish the idea of setting a violent, bloody example of what happened to those who crossed his family—in fact, it was an image he was actively working to keep out of his head. Being Fornax again would be easy, which was why Ivan still felt the need to resist.
Once Fornax was intentionally let out, there might be no putting him back.
Chapter 90
Tori was surprised to see an empty street corner as the car dropped her off. She’d been expecting some of the New Science Sentries to be there, so over-concerned that they insisted on walking her the few feet from sidewalk to front door. Hauling herself out of the car, she looked her brick domicile up and down, appreciating the familiarity. It had taken a while, but arriving here was starting to feel like coming home. Especially knowing that she had friends up there waiting for her.
It was probably a good thing none of the capes were around. Tori still wasn’t sure how she felt about learning Lodestar’s secret, or the implications it had regarding Ivan, and some time to think through that would be nice. Besides, she needed to reconsider her stance on fraternizing with capes as a whole. The friendships that had seemed so impossible on Friday weren’t nearly as remarkable by comparison now, which made them feel
far more manageable.
Stepping into the foyer, Tori caught movement from the mail alcove. It wasn’t especially subtle, as the figure moved toward her as soon as she appeared. For an instant, her heart leapt at the sight of those kaleidoscope eyes, but the same bit could only be genuinely scary so many times. “Nexus, you are one creepy bastard, you know that?”
“If only,” he replied, sounding oddly... wistful? “How was your weekend?”
“What, weren’t you posted up on a tree somewhere, watching the whole thing?”
Nexus shook his head hard, causing his long trench coat to shake slightly, sending off small plumes of red dirt. “Others to watch, and Lodestar fights are boring unless they’re big. Like... well, odds are you’ll see soon enough.”
“Great, I’ll set my DVR. Anything else, or is this just your creepy hangout for the night?” She should be more scared—Tori knew that rationally. Mad as he seemed, Nexus had endured the full efforts of the guild and the AHC to stamp him out. He was capable of wide-scale destruction like she could only imagine, based on the few displays he’d given.
“One thing, if you’re interested.” Nexus was smiling in a way that only the truly gleeful and insane could manage: with absolute abandon. “A junction is looming, a point where things tend to go in one of two directions. In one version, several fascinating stories are cut short. In another, they persist, providing more entertainment. The difference in the two is often you.”
The unnerving thing about Nexus was that he was mad, not crazy. There was logic in those shattered eyes, a process of thought and reason that guided his actions. After a few meetings, she’d gotten enough clues to realize that, at least for now, he was largely acting as a voyeur. Their world was amusing to him, so he watched it for entertainment. Tracking that, when he said stories were cut short... he was probably talking about the people living those tales.
“Who gets hurt?”
“Can’t say. Not always the same, you know. But they won’t be strangers to you, that much is certain.”
It was never that easy. Just enough information to make you do what they wanted: that was how manipulators loved to work. She was very tempted to flip him the bird and walk away, except that afterward, every time she looked at Beverly or Chloe, Tori would wonder if something bad was coming for them, and whether she could have stopped it.
“You can’t tell me who is involved, or what will happen, I’m guessing. But somehow, I affect the outcome?”
“A superhero defends what is just; a villain defends what is theirs. Remember who you truly are, and the rest shall flow as it does. I have my preferences, but the show marches on regardless.” He twirled once, his massive coat flaring out behind. “Do try to keep it amusing.”
Without warning, he was simply gone. Never with flash or spectacle, Nexus moved through space with the same level of grandiose display as when Tori took a step forward. It was mundane to him, as was likely all of this. Who knew how much those fractured eyes had witnessed, and over a span of how long? Yet something impending was fascinating enough to warrant a special trip to Tori. These did happen—she’d been warned as much since he crashed a guild meeting.
Tori’s plans for an evening of rest suddenly evaporated as she found a fresh wind. Dinner with her friends, certainly, but after that, it was down to the lab. The Hephaestus suit needed repairing, and she no longer felt safe with it compromised. Something told her she was going to be wearing it again sooner than later.
Curiously, Tori realized this notion had put a thin smile on the edges of her lips. Perhaps Nexus wasn’t the only one capable of acclimating to the insanity of this lifestyle.
“Any idea what this is about?” Donald followed Ren through the crowd, his friend’s bulk helping clear a path through the array of costumed forms. He couldn’t recall ever seeing so many of the AHC’s capes in one place. Usually, they were separated by schedules and distance; with a whole world to keep running and only so many capes to lean on, they weren’t exactly all walking the same patrol beat. Most of the others seemed excited, though a few appeared nervous.
“I got the same text as you. Major meeting—everyone not on active assignments who can get here needs to report.” Ren halted his forward march, having reached the end of space in the crowd. Moving more would demand shoving bodies aside; hardly a polite option, especially around coworkers. This room was enormous, as was the screen dominating an entire wall. Still, even with all the space, they were getting packed in. The AHC had evidently grown since the room was last needed for this purpose.
Scanning the room, Donald noted Irene and Lucy coming in from their individual training sessions. Both were still clad in sweats rather than costumes, Lucy waving as soon as they made eye contact. The two began wading through the sea of bodies, though how long it would take to reach their position was anyone’s guess.
Turning his attention toward the front, where the screen was located, he picked out the familiar hue of the New Science Sentries’ costumes, all four of them in prime positions. They must have either gotten here in advance or used Presto’s teleportation trickery—probably the former. Austin didn’t seem the sort to let his people cut ahead. There were other familiar outfits near the front, as well: Dapper Doll, the Ineffable, Glass Cannon, and the unfortunately named Mister Fister, a brawling cape who must be working very hard to ignore the innuendo of his moniker.
At the next figure, Donald almost let out a yelp of shock. Sure enough, that was Lady Shade standing there. She’d been missing since the rebellion. He’d assumed she was booted along with the other traitors. Maybe telling the truth at the end had bought her some leniency? That was more comforting than his other hunch: that they were up against something so dangerous, it demanded all hands on deck. Even the untrusted ones.
Suddenly, the lights flickered, blinking three times. Instantly, the crowd grew silent as every eye turned toward the giant screen. After the third bout of darkness, the lights remained off. What illuminated the room now was a bright, blank screen. Seconds later, Professor Quantum stepped onto the stage, followed by Quorum. Lodestar arrived a few steps behind, her tardiness probably the result of still having to deal with the fallout from the Starscout attack. Donald had sent Tori a text—the most he could do with this meeting filling up his evening. Besides, knowing her, she probably wanted to be alone and relax. Tori would reach out when she was ready; he just hoped his schedule would open up when the moment came.
“Superheroes of the Alliance of Heroic Champions,” Professor Quantum began, “today I stand before you with grave news. The purpose for which this organization was founded, to defend the world against threats great and small, shall be put to its fullest test once again. While much of what I’m about to say will eventually leak to the public, it is vital this remain confidential for as long as possible. Failure to control information could lead to mass panic and civilian casualties.”
The light, interested vibe of the room shifted quickly. Professor Quantum was never what one would call carefree, but the gravity of these words was undeniable. He was serious, as was their situation. “We have been tracking a migration of ships moving on a course for Earth. These are not Grzzniltan, though we suspect they had some hand in this. Based on information provided by our extraterrestrial sources, we believe these to be the Wrexwren, a species specialized in conquering and combat. Considering their attempt at a stealthy approach and the number of ships present, this is almost certainly an invading force.”
Someone in the room obviously had the ability to steal the bottom out from people’s stomachs: that was the only explanation Donald could think of for why his gut suddenly dropped to the heels of his shoes. An invasion? An actual attempt to take over their planet? That was crazy. It had been forever since the last time anyone tried that, and the AHC had sent them packing. Which was exactly what Professor Quantum wanted to have happen again, from the sound of things.
“Before anyone gets too nervous, we do have a plan that we hope will keep things
contained,” Lodestar announced. “The Wrexwren, like many warring cultures, pride themselves on their strength. Historically, they’ll allow a planet’s champion to battle their own to earn its salvation. We plan to invoke that, hopefully keeping the fighting entirely contained off-planet.”
“However, there is no guarantee this particular force will honor that tradition, or do so fairly,” Professor Quantum said, retaking control of his stage. “We must be prepared for the absolute worst we can imagine. Someone is coming to take this planet. From us, from you, from everyone you love. Many things are different across the stars, but conquest is constant. If we aren’t prepared, it will be brutal and bloody before you’ve even got your masks on.”
To Donald’s surprise, Lodestar actually nodded in agreement this time. “Hope for the best, brace for the worst. There’s no such thing as being too prepared. For our newer members, keep in mind that we won’t intentionally put you against something you can’t handle, but an invasion is a hectic time. We know little about the Wrexwren, their motives, or their potential allies. Trust your instincts. If something feels way out of your league, your first priority is communicating that back to base, not engagement. Information is going to be the name of the game.”
“Perhaps we should start at the beginning: expected arrival date.” Quorum had to be wearing a mic; there was no way that soft tone traveled so well on projection alone.
His words recentered Lodestar and Professor Quantum, perhaps one of the most essential tasks in all of the AHC. Professor Quantum nodded, then made a motion. The screen behind him suddenly went black, or that was how it initially appeared. After a moment for his eyes to adjust, Donald realized he was looking at an image of stars. A flicker as the image changed, and now he could make out a small patch of Saturn’s rings in the photo. Something else, too. A large ship that blended well with the blackness of space, unnatural in design. Too many angles and loops, it had design functions he couldn’t even begin to guess at, for a biology he knew nothing about.