by Drew Hayes
“So soon?” Tori would have expected turnaround like that from herself, which was to say a person with a poor work-life balance and tendency to hurl herself into projects. Beverly was far more reasonable in her passions. Even if she was incredibly skilled, she still must have put in a lot of time to already be near finished.
Beverly affected her best haughty expression, one that actually sat quite well on her finely sculpted face. “You’re not the only one capable of knuckling down when the occasion demands.” Her face softened, a sliver of weariness cracking through. “Plus, there’s been all the stuff with my family reaching out—having something to work on made for a great distraction. After this, I might build us a new dining room table.”
“Don’t go overcommitting too fast. If the prototype goes well, we’re definitely going to need more.” Tori stepped into her bathroom, partially to do one last appearance check, and also to buy more time until she had to head into the kitchen. The woman staring back at Tori was one she’d never have imagined possible. Brown suit, long skirt, hair back, stud earrings, and sensible shoes. She was so... boring, and Tori felt a strange swell of pride in her heart at that notion. This was a woman who lived a normal life, worked a boring job, and had the dullest of secrets. Building this image had taken time and effort, not to mention quite a bit of guidance from Ivan.
If everything went well, Tori wouldn’t be able to keep playing this angle for much longer. She wouldn’t be revealing any heavy truths to the world, but the new role required different features to succeed. That was getting ahead of herself, though. They still had to finish the prototype, impress Wade, and start the ball rolling on production. Nevertheless, Tori took her time examining that reflection, more than just to delay eating Chloe’s food.
At the rate her life had been changing, by this time next year, she might have three heads and a tail. Best to appreciate the moment while she was still in it. If Tori had taken no other lesson in her life, she knew that nothing—no time, no phase, no joy—lasted forever. Sooner or later, everything came to end.
Without warning, Chloe’s raised voice rang out from the kitchen. “Hey you two, does anyone have an allergy to pimento cheese? I found a waffle recipe online that suggested using it in the batter and thought that sounded fun.”
Tori stepped out of her bathroom, locking terrified eyes with Beverly, who reflected her expression nearly as well as the actual mirror had. Hiding was no longer viable; they had to get proactive.
Wordlessly, Tori put up her fist, and Beverly did the same. They each shook the closed hand three times, then reformed it into the finger-symbol of paper, scissors, or rock. Tori won the first match with a last-second scissors, but Beverly took the second thanks a well-timed rock. The final bout was neck-and-neck, yet Tori’s own rock ultimately claimed victory.
“You know what? I think I am allergic to that,” Beverly called, pausing only to shoot Tori a dirty look. Tori accepted the gaze, along her prize of not having to remember a new fake allergy.
Such were the spoils of victory.
“Excuse me, sir, can I help you?”
Ivan looked up from his phone to see the two figures he’d already clocked approaching standing nearby. The blond was big—not just raw muscle, either. He moved like someone who actually used his body rather than only building it. Next to him was a shorter fellow with brown hair and a lean frame. Given what he knew about Tori’s living situation, Ivan had a hunch on who these might be. Still, muscles did not a meta make. It was possible they were normal ruffians planning a robbery. Although, early in the morning, with their arms full of groceries, would certainly be a departure from the mugging norms.
“Appreciate it, but I’m just waiting for someone.” Instantly, both men’s faces tightened. They were either on guard patrol or were up to shady activities of their own. Clearly, this wasn’t a good answer. Deciding to part with slightly more information, Ivan added, “My niece lives here.”
The shorter one—Tachyonic, if Ivan was getting this right—stepped forward. “Sorry to say this, but we’ve had a few incidents surrounding some residents as of late. Perhaps there’s somewhere more comfortable you can wait.”
“My answer is a polite, firm no.” Ivan looked back down at his phone, effectively dismissing them both. “I’m standing on a public sidewalk, not inside the building where you may or may not reside. Since I don’t see any badges on display, this doesn’t seem to be a discussion of loitering coming from an officer of the law. Unless you two are both secretly superheroes, we’re all civilians, and I’ve got no reason to move.”
It was a tad mean, coming so close to calling them out, but they needed to learn to split their identities better. These sorts of discussions had to happen when they were in costume. Without that authority, they just seemed like interlopers bothering strangers, at best.
To their credit, both were flustered, but neither one lost themselves entirely. Instead, the one who had to be Agent Quantum gave a knowing grin, then walked over to the building’s brick exterior and placed his back against it. “He’s right. We’ve got no authority to make this gentleman move. But we do have just as much right to stand out here as him, making use of the public sidewalk.”
Smarter than the physique indicated, not that Ivan was too surprised. Professor Quantum’s attachment to his legacy was legendary among capes and villains alike; the man protected his brand better than an entire PR firm could manage. For him to pass on the mantle, even if only part of his name, was a tremendous vote of confidence in the one who’d be carrying it. Agent Quantum wouldn’t have the title if he were merely some hulking bruiser. To earn that, there was no telling what sorts of tests he’d had to endure, let alone pass. Ivan had a hunch that once this kid started showing what he could really do, they’d be in for quite the show. Possibly even a real challenge.
Tachyonic moved slowly—a detail that very nearly caused Ivan to chuckle—stepping over to his friend’s side, his eyes never leaving Ivan. He paid them no mind, putting the final touches on his email before hitting send. With that, his schedule had been effectively cleared for the week. Waking up to find he’d been temporarily reassigned, by the head office no doubt, to a special research project had been momentarily confusing, until he noticed the message from Wade. It was vague, as all monitorable guild correspondence tended to be, but the gist came through. Something was up, and while he’d get the details later that day, all indications seemed that it was serious. Wade didn’t go around butting into Ivan’s schedule willy-nilly; he knew that sort of invasion was only acceptable under extremely necessary conditions.
With work done, Ivan glanced down, noting that the shopping bags were largely filled with various coffees and caffeinated beverages, along with a few sandwich-shaped bundles letting out wisps of steam. Whether it was boredom or simply his office small talk kicking into gear, Ivan found the words leaving his mouth before he’d thought to give them leave.
“Late night?”
That earned a scowl from Tachyonic, yet Agent Quantum nodded without hesitation. “Never a dull moment in Ridge City.”
Ivan made a noise in his throat that could have been agreement, or simple acknowledgment that the words had been properly heard. It was one of his favorite tools for weathering office meetings, allowing him to handle most questions tossed in his direction without getting bogged down in needless details.
“What about you, mister? Out burning the midnight oil?”
“No, I had a very long, trying weekend. A night of heavy sleep was well-earned.” Ivan felt that was true, even though he hadn’t gotten one; instead, he’d wasted most of the night digging for any leads on their mystery trapper, only to come up empty. Whoever had thrown that orb was hiding themselves well. Same for Cobblord—no luck, not that Ivan really expected to succeed. He’d never had much talent for locating people. Ivan’s skills kicked in once he had a target.
“Sorry to hear that. Hopefully the week ahead will treat you better.” Agent Quantum’s face twit
ched, only for a moment, yet in it, Ivan saw his realization. This would not be a normal week—based on Wade’s estimates, at least. Seemed like the capes might have finally started letting their people know what was coming.
Ivan gave a shallow nod. “It will certainly be an interesting one.”
The slam of a nearby door lifted all their eyes to the same location, which was how they all ended up staring at Tori as she strolled into the afternoon light. He could hear the capes tensing, practically feel it at this proximity. If they thought he was here to do harm, then she would be the chief target for such aggressions. They were waiting to see if he would make a move.
Neither, however, was fully braced for Tori.
“Ivan? What the hell? I thought you meant we’d meet at the office.”
“We’re heading somewhere else, so this was faster. Special company research project. We’ve been moved over to it all week.”
“As long as it’s not more quarterly reviews, I can manage.” Seeming to notice the capes for the first time, Tori’s eyebrows scrunched together. “Kyle, Austin, why are you guys standing on the sidewalk?”
The flabbergasted look on both Austin and Kyle’s faces was such a spectacle, Ivan wished he had a way to snap covert photos. Their gaze went from him to Tori, then back again, as they began to process the implied connection.
“Wait, is this guy your uncle?” Kyle asked, putting a fine point on the issue.
“There’s some cousins and marriages in the equation, but yeah, he’s pretty much been Uncle Ivan since we met.” The proud gleam in Tori’s eye made it impossible to miss how well she’d threaded the needle of truth with her carefully chosen words.
After a few more head-turns—too many; he was giving into his speed—Kyle fully faced Ivan. “Sorry for bothering you. We had to be sure you weren’t a danger.”
With great effort, Tori almost managed to change the harsh bark of laughter that tore from her into a coughing fit, albeit not very convincingly. “You guys were sweating my uncle? What did you think Ivan was going to do, build an organizational spreadsheet of doom?”
Not a bad recovery, at least. Better they think the joke was how comically non-dangerous he was than sniff out anything near the truth.
Austin took a more diplomatic approach, offering Ivan a hand to shake. “I apologize for the inconvenience, if we caused any.”
“Not for the act itself?” Ivan accepted the hand, even as he posed the question.
“No, sir. One of our residents has been targeted or endangered multiple times in short succession. I’m glad you were telling the truth; however, you easily might not have been. I’m not sorry for trying to protect this place or the people in it, and I won’t do you the disservice of lying about it.”
It didn’t happen often. In fact, Ivan would say for a long time that it had happened never. On rare occasions, however, he’d get a feeling. Part hunch, part experience, potentially part cosmic connection to the greater forces of the universe. Gripping Austin’s hand, looking into the young man’s clear eyes, Ivan could sense the barest bit of that old feeling rising from within. A sensation like he was touching his opposite, coupled with recognition of the spirit brimming out from those eyes.
This kid was dangerous. Not in the ways so many of the others feared—raw strength that could be turned against them in force. No, what he had was more insidious, and ineffable. It radiated off of him, that genuine, earnest attitude that made people want to trust. Want to believe. A cape who could lift a mountain was an easy force to predict and contain; one who could inspire others to heroism had a far further reaching impact.
The world before and after Lodestar’s arrival was proof enough of that.
Thankfully, Austin was young, and Ivan felt himself questioning the assessment almost as soon as the handshake ended. He had potential, the raw makings were there, but there was still a lot of growing to do before Agent Quantum became a major threat. Ivan would have to keep an eye on him, though. Today’s rookies were tomorrow’s veterans; the guild would be ready for conflict long before Agent Quantum was.
“I suppose there are worse neighbors than ones who keep an eye on suspicious characters,” Ivan conceded.
“Tori’s not just our neighbor, she’s our friend,” Austin corrected. “We’ll do our best not to let anything happen to her.”
It was a very nice sentiment, largely undercut by their inability to stop any of the attacks she’d suffered so far, not that Ivan could really blame them for those. Someone had been outmaneuvering both the guild and the AHC—expecting four rookies to outperform that went past ridiculous into outright silliness.
Tori made her way over, giving quick high-fives and farewells to Austin and Kyle, then followed Ivan as her led her to the car. Behind them, the heroic duo scooped up their groceries, finally heading indoors after their unexpected delay. Once Tori and Ivan were in the car, they remained silent, waiting until the capes were inside and fully out of view.
“What’s up? Is this another day off thanks to the weekend’s craziness? ’Cause if so, I think I’d like to head to my lab.”
“Not this time. Something is happening, big enough that there’s no communications about it going out. We need to head to the guild and see what’s going on,” Ivan explained.
“Damn, now you’ve got me all curious.” Tori buckled her safety belt and adjusted the car’s air vent, lowering the output by half. “Also, I could have used a guild car. I know the weekend was nuts, but you didn’t have to drive all the way out here.”
Putting the vehicle in gear, Ivan pointed it toward the highway and steeled his courage. There was still a chance to back out, knowledge which forced his tongue to move, lest fear leave it locked in silence. “I picked you up because I thought you might have questions about... well, I’ll let you tell me. Given who one of those topics might be about, we can’t have the talk on guild property, and not many civilian locations are secure enough to discuss something so sensitive.”
Tightening his wheel-grip slightly, Ivan set his will and finished the statement. “This drive is in case you wanted to ask me about Lodestar.”
Chapter 93
It was so shocking, Ren had to blink and rub his eyes, despite their above-human vision. Sure enough, this was neither a hallucination nor imagined, which meant the next most likely explanations were a meta with body-possession, copying, or illusion-based abilities. Long shots, sure, but the other choice was to believe what he was seeing.
Donald Moss had beaten him to the gym.
Given the looks of things, not by a tremendous amount; the freckled, pale face of his friend was red, but not yet slick with sweat as he pushed on the weight machine working his chest. For a moment, Ren lingered at the edge of the room, still barely filled on a Monday morning, searching his mind. Had Donald ever even come here on his own before, let alone been first? Not that Ren could recall; it certainly would have stuck out in his memory.
Walking with more grace and precision than he could have dreamed of after his initial shift, Ren approached from the side, waiting until Donald let the bars fall slack and leaned against the seat, panting from effort. How hard had he been going already?
“Vanity, or ambition?”
“Huh?” Donald’s face roughly matched the words: bleary-eyed from the combination of a late night and an early morning, along with the surprise arrival of his friend. Ren hadn’t slept great either, not after what they’d learned, but he’d plainly done better between the two of them.
“That’s not a maintenance workout, and it’s not you going through the motions to appease me. This is the first time I’ve seen you in here with actual drive. Usually, that means someone either decided to sculpt their body, aka vanity, or they found a goal to work for, which I simplified to ambition.”
A moment passed before Donald managed to sort the words and put together a proper response. “Fear, I guess.” He tried to shove the machine’s bars forward, struggling in vain; he’d gone too hard already, a
nd now the current weight was beyond him. “Or maybe frustration? Every time I feel like we’re making headway in this job, something reminds me how weak I am. Not being able to help Tori, not being able to stop Hephaestus, and then last night’s announcement... there’s an invasion coming. People are going to be looking to me to do something about it, trusting me to keep them safe. This isn’t busting muggers or doing patrols, Ren. This is war from the stars, and I’m a guy who turns video game items temporarily real. I couldn’t sleep, and doing nothing was worse, so I came here.”
Sometimes, there were perks to an empty gym, such as unexpected honesty. Given how Donald had opened up, Ren could offer nothing less than his own truth. “I get it. It’s really terrifying, when you realize we’re part of the line that has to hold. I’m not sure it scares me in the same way, but I do get the drive that kicks in when you feel yourself up against a wall and want to be better.”
“Maybe once I get half as strong as you, the fear will ease up a bit,” Donald joked.
“You think I’m not as afraid because I’m tougher?” Ren looked around, taking note of the few other bodies present and their current distance. He was pretty sure none of them had meta-hearing, but sometimes, it had to be risked. “Donald, I’m less scared because this job... this is all I have. My life, my dreams, even my body got taken away when that meta-storm struck. One day, you might take those talents and do something else, find another way to help, move on to a new phase of life. This, right here, is the best it gets for something like me: still able to help, to make a difference, to matter. There’s no leaving that behind. I’ll be in this work until the day I fail. It’s easier not to be afraid when I already know this job will kill me. It’s just a question of how much good I can do before it does.”
Donald reached out and grabbed the machine’s bars once more, though rather than trying to push, he used his already weary arms to pull himself up, out of the seat. Fully standing, he turned to face his friend in the eye. “Dude, that is messed up.”