by Drew Hayes
“Pardon?” Ren’s inhuman face twisted around, making his version of surprise.
“This is all you have? All you’re good for? To hell with that. What we do here matters a lot, but you’re not some battery to be used up and cast aside for it. I am sorry, man. I didn’t realize how hard things still were for you. Been too caught up in my own dumb shit to notice. But the AHC can’t be your whole life, and I’m going to help you be okay with that, whatever route it takes. We can even start hunting for a way to reverse the changes. Just because the AHC lacks one doesn’t make it impossible.”
A night of sleepless anxiety, unknown time sweating at the gym, and Donald’s mental state hadn’t improved one bit. Less than a minute of having a friend’s problem to focus on, and suddenly he was newly alert and engaged. It was strange. Cyber Geek clearly felt unsure in a position of leadership, likely because he didn’t have the same talent for combat that some on the team did. Yet in terms of valuing his people, listening to them and considering how they felt, Donald was head and shoulders above countless coaches Ren had suffered through. The guy was like a brace on the other side of a wall: easy to miss, but the support made everything he touched sturdier.
“Thanks. Maybe I need to hear that sometimes. That said, we should table that idea until after the attempted invasion. This seems like a good week to stay focused on the job.”
While Donald’s face didn’t look thrilled, he nodded all the same. “Can’t argue well against that. Guess it’s time to climb back into this contraption.”
Ren snagged his arm, hooking a clawed thumb over to the free weight. “Forget it. Now that you’ve got a spotter, we’re doing the bench. If you’re really here to work, I’ll show you how to safely get stronger.”
With an exaggerated bow, Donald moved from the machine. “Part of me already knows I’ll regret this, but lead the way.”
“For the most past, I think I’ve got the basics figured out. She’s the Starscout contact you kept mentioning, so after that night with Haywood, you went to see Helen, who pitched leading the cluster as penance. Ostensibly, Lodestar is also there because putting Fornax in charge of impressionable youths would rub people who don’t know you the wrong way. The rest sort of falls into place from there, but one thing I haven’t figured out yet is why I’m in this, too.”
Ivan had remained silent as Tori considered the opportunity and put together a response, only speaking once the pause in Tori’s words stretched long enough to be sure it implied a question. “That was Helen’s idea. She knew you were at Haywood’s office somehow—the AHC has their tricks, as well—and wanted you to get the same lesson: actions have consequences.”
Had Ivan dropped that bomb before the first Starscout meeting, Tori might have had a hard time wrapping her head around that as motivation. Even now, her first instinct was to assume it was a trick, part of a larger plan to learn more about her abilities and whether or not she was a threat. But after the weekend she’d spent at Helen’s side, Tori understood. Lodestar wanted her to see that there were consequences because she was still hoping to turn Tori away from the path she was on. That thought raised a sudden memory, which created quite the new question.
“Did you know she pitched the idea of me switching over to the capes?”
“Not specifically, but I’m also unsurprised, if that’s what you’re wondering. Teams change. While usually more tend to flow in our direction than the other, there is precedence. We’d have a few securities put in place, some mental blocks to keep you from accidentally letting anything slip; otherwise, it’s a fairly simple process for where you are. Someone like Johnny or Pod Person might have more trouble, but you’re only just starting out. Not even an official criminal record yet.”
Considering that, Tori could see how it would be viable, yet for all the work joining the guild had taken, could leaving really be that easy? “Guess I’m just surprised you don’t put up more of a fight.”
Staring in the rearview for several moments, Ivan suddenly changed lanes, then returned to normal speed. “Given your passion for technology, I’m sure you’ve heard of Tyranny, the inventor who rules over her own country of Indroga.”
“Sure. Possibly the greatest meta mind out there, only no one can be sure because Indroga has a massively strict immigration and visitation policy, so we’ve never gotten a good look at her full potential. She doesn’t even allow capes to set foot on Indroga soil.”
“Almost,” Ivan corrected. “She has one exception: only Lodestar is allowed on Indroga. I had occasion to ask her why that was, once. Her answer is very fitting for this current, and quite a few subsequent, questions. Best as I recall, she said, ‘A ruler must have absolute power over their domain. All that occurs within it occurs with their permission. I cannot stop Lodestar from coming, nor do I think any bureaucracy would halt her if she knew there were people in need. Therefore, since she may arrive regardless, and I am Indroga’s ruler, she must be arriving with my permission.’”
Not a hard story to see the parallels in, especially given her question. When one was facing an overwhelming force, it was often a matter of choosing battles. Yes, the guild could dig in and be shitty if one of their own opted to start doing good, but what would that gain them? Ire from the capes, and a member ripe for turning to treachery. And since it wouldn’t look very good to have the AHC dictating terms, deciding it was a mutual policy allowed the guild to save internal face.
“At some point, I definitely want to circle back and hear more about you actually talking to Tyranny.”
“I’ll save you the time: she was cordial enough, but our conversation centered largely on dealing with capes, many of whom aren’t even around anymore. She and Wade had a far more productive discussion that day, if you can ever get him to part with specifics.” Another change of lanes, this time paired with acceleration.
Weird driving and inventor tangents aside, Tori tried to focus in on anything she wondered specifically regarding Helen’s secret. Other conversations could continue; this one had a shelf-life. Since Ivan had been so forthcoming, and Tori wasn’t one to beat around a bush, she decided to just go all in on the obvious.
“Do you love Lodestar?”
“Whether they know it or not, everyone loves Lodestar, in the same way every blade of grass loves the sun. She has single-handedly saved the entire world several times, including all life on it. It’s coded into all nature to seek and love the things that keep you alive.”
“I’ve never seen a blade of grass and the sun spend ten minutes making flirty small talk over a bin full of paper mâché,” Tori countered. “You’re going to tell me there’s nothing there?”
“Not nothing, no.” Ivan was checking his mirrors more frequently, and Tori was starting to do the same. Something was off, even if he didn’t want to address it openly. “Respect, friendship, even trust. There’s a tremendous amount of history between Helen and me. Some things are bound to be built atop such a rich foundation.”
It was a nice spiel, the kind that almost made one overlook the fact that Ivan had never actually come out and denied Tori’s accusation. She decided to let it go for now. The point wasn’t to make Ivan sweat with a discussion about feelings, it was to answer her questions and get a clear head.
“She already knew who I was, so I guess nothing has changed in that department. You two have your own thing. Pretty sure I don’t want to dig much deeper into that can of worms. I guess my main question left would be... is she for real? The concern, the caring, the way she sees things: I have a hard time believing it’s not at least partially an act, but I never saw anything other than sincerity from her. Now that I know her power conceals her identity, I wanted to know if there was a chance that was fake, too.”
“Hmm.” Ivan’s hands drummed the wheel, stopping only once to suddenly jerk the car around a slowed van in front of them rather than reduce speed. “Technically, it is possible that this is one more aspect of the abilities, though it’s highly unlikely. I believe I
’ve mentioned that Lodestars are consistent across all the universes we’ve scanned, and part of it is that they’re always trying to do good. Not always Helen’s exact brand, that shifts with who holds the power, but they are, at minimum, attempting to work on the side of right. For them all to be fake, the power would have to have no failings in any world we’ve checked, and then you’d have to ask yourself why? What’s the point of pretending to be good if you spend your life saving the world anyway, and at that point, is it even still pretending?”
“I get it, I get it. Morality is hard to gauge in any real sense, but so far as we know, her actions consistently match her attitude.” Tori rubbed her left temple, aware the day would end in a headache, yet fighting it off for as long as she could. “Guess this is why we stick to smashing skulls instead of saving worlds.”
The exit came fast, but Ivan was ready, jerking the car off the highway, on track to the country club they’d be teleporting out of. “Actually, I did save a world once. Sort of. Not this one… got summoned by mistake, but the experience was more fulfilling than one might expect.”
“Wait, what? Forget Lodestar—the hell happened there?”
“Story for another time, I’m afraid. We’re being followed, and I wasn’t able to shake them.”
For an instant, Tori’s skin went cold. More attacks, more chaos, more madness, and she’d barely had time to even partially recover from the last. Then, slowly, warmth returned as she remembered that this was no scouting trip stocked with innocent children. To her knowledge, there was only one other meta who could be a real threat to the villain seated next to her, and Lodestar wouldn’t need a crappy sedan to follow them in. This was a pothole in their road, not a gaping chasm to leap.
“Should we floor it?”
“Scraping them from our heels was ideal, but the time for that has passed.” Ivan’s face darkened, and Tori quickly remembered that he’d also had a very shitty weekend, and that currently, they had no clue which of them was the target being tailed.
“Running is for prey. Our kind lay ambushes.”
Chapter 94
Their tantrum reached a fever pitch as the camera equipment was torn open, electronic guts dropped roughly onto the gravel. On the television screen, Tori watched as the country club security roughly grabbed one of the photographers that had been on their tail as he lunged for the camera, slamming him to the ground and beginning to administer zip ties.
“This is really legal?” It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy watching a pair of parasites being pulled from their car and having their belongings carelessly searched, but it did seem the sort of thing that might come with consequences.
“They drove past multiple signs informing them they were entering private property, with no trespassing permitted and all vehicles subject to search. Given that they were tailing you, a person who has endured multiple attacks in a very short time, it’s natural we assume them to be criminals as well and thoroughly check their belongings for hidden weapons or explosives. Resisting the process can only lead to them being detained until the police can arrive to scoop up this refuse.” Ivan managed a straightforward tone, despite the not-so-subtle smirk inching along his face.
“I’m just sorry you’re still having to deal with this. I’d hoped the fervor would fade quickly. Seems they’re either doggedly determined or news you were at the Starscout incident has started to leak.” Though they’d done their best to hide the names of those involved, when the bulk of the witnesses were young children, some were going to make slips when asked the right question.
The second paparazzi attempted to make a run, bolting to where one of the guards was yanking out what looked to be an extremely expensive video camera. He grabbed for the equipment, managing to actually pull it away, thanks to the element of surprise. It fared far worse seconds later, as it went flying from his arms, shattering while its owner fell to the ground shuddering, body filled with electrical current. Only once the guard he’d robbed stopped holding down the trigger on his tazer did the twitching at last relent.
“Believe it or not, this kind of works for me. I’ve got some big plans coming up, and still being part of the public consciousness is in my favor for them. Speaking of, I need to talk with Wade soon. Think he’ll be around base today?” With the show winding down, Tori turned from the monitors to the rest of the security room.
It wasn’t the actual security wing of this building, rather the mundane one that had existed in its original incarnation. Closed-camera TVs lining the walls, stacks of electronics poorly organized and maintained, even a guard with drooping eyes leaning back in his chair, keeping a sleepy watch on everything happening. Seeing as this employee, like the vast majority of others, was secretly robotic, how open his eyes were didn’t actually impact his capacity to do the job. It was simply a small touch of detail. That level of care into every project was part of why Tori admired Doctor Mechaniacal’s skills in the first place.
“Wade will definitely be here, though you might have trouble catching him free.” Ivan glanced down at his watch, noting that they’d spent a tad longer than they should have enjoying the show. “I’ve got a meeting with him and the other councilors momentarily, after which, I’ll bring you up to speed. While I’m there, I’ll see about your meeting… just don’t expect anything today.”
“Perfect for me. Only looking to get something on the books again. I’m not quite ready either.” Tori’s mind jumped back to her prototype, now nearly complete. Much as she wanted her suit repaired, she’d also have to make time to properly polish that up. One generally didn’t get multiple pitches to multi-billion-dollar corporations, not even with secret villain connections.
Together, they walked through the resort, into the secured teleportation chamber, and crossed untold miles in a single flash. Once at the guild, Tori opted to go grab a breakfast she wouldn’t have to pretend to eat while covertly tossing out the window, while Ivan headed up to his meeting—past the residences, the utility rooms, the lounges, all the way to the new Councilors’ Chambers.
He was, in a rare anomaly, the last to arrive. Morgana looked tanner since they’d last seen one another—evidently, she was spending a lot of time at the new guild with its ample sunshine. Gork and Xelas were seated next to one another, the latter swiping a hand through the air as she browsed unseen screens. Arcanicus was holding what Ivan deemed to easily be the largest mug of coffee he’d ever seen, his bleary eyes betraying why. Stasis was clad in a surfing outfit, her post-meeting plans very apparent, whereas Wade himself looked as if he was going into the Indigo Technologies offices, clad in tan slacks and a crisp shirt.
It was rare to see Wade like that while in these halls. Knowing him, it meant he’d gotten some new piece of information in his civilian outfit and had been too excited to even consider changing, or probably showering. Although it was a habit that could make Wade hard to room with, it also meant he was good at finding answers, devoting himself entirely to whatever question was currently occupying his brain.
The outfit was one tip-off, the look in his eyes another. It wasn’t often that Ivan saw that expression, but when he did, it meant things were about to get extremely complicated, and equally as dangerous.
“Good, we can finally start,” Wade said. “Ivan, please shut the door. There’s a lot we need to talk about.”
Zerle Salvrin’s subganwum sacks swelled with pleasure as the orb filled his screen. Blue and green, quite picturesque—if one went in for that sort of thing. He held no particular passion for the aesthetics. What tickled his yerkle were the readings they’d taken from that captured Grzzniltan ship. One of his clawed fingers ran along a panel of dark metal, turning the screen from a picture to a display of that lovely, lucrative data.
Oceans of water, huge tracks of land, an ore-rich core, and billions of lesser lifeforms to serve or feed upon as their talents dictated. A civilization nearing the verge of galactic travel, ripe for the plucking. The Grzzniltans were turned away by a few mere g
uardians, cowards that they were. Earth would not be so fortunate when it faced the Wrexwren fleet moving toward them.
Two of Zerle Salvrin’s eyes kept watch on the communications channel, always waiting for a fresh transmission. Their mysterious Earth informant wasn’t the most constant information source, yet what they’d provided thus far had proved valuable. Without the initial broadcast, Zerle Salvrin might never have sent a crew to intercept that Grzzniltan vessel in the first place, leaving this gorgeous celestial pulvin completely unflugged. It was also thanks to their informant that the Wrexwren knew Earth had a special defense, a seemingly unbeatable force.
Changing the screen once more, Zerle Salvrin checked the dispersal of plasma his ships were carefully leaking. One couldn’t tame, control, or even direct creatures like that which was following in their wake. All they knew was hunger: perfect machines of function, to Zerle Salvrin’s reasoning. The only way to use one was to lead it to the planned destination and turn it into someone else’s problem. Whatever supposedly unstoppable defenses the planet had, this would neutralize them nicely.
In a way, Zerle Salvrin was glad this planet had some capacity to put up a fight. His crew had faced far too little adversity in recent conquests, enemies falling like the shards of eslewight that rained down on the Wrexwren’s desolate homeworld. Lack of challenge would make them soft. He hoped the Earth would manage to put up enough resistance to demand some effort, though in truth, he expected little. A planet so coddled and cared for would cause most of its inhabitants to lose their edge. Once their champions were broken, the world was essentially done.
Not long to wait, now. They were on course to reach Earth at the appointed moment. They could have arrived weeks early, but the messages were quite specific about the timing, claiming that there was preparation to do. Zerle Salvrin didn’t entirely trust this source; however, he also didn’t want to alert it to that fact by ignoring the agreed upon plans. They would play along while the source proved to be useful. Once that function lessened, circumstances could be reevaluated. After all, it wasn’t as if Zerle Salvrin had told their contact the actual number of Wrexwren ships in the approaching fleet.