by Drew Hayes
Shutting the door, Tori turned back to her friends, who were watching with curious expressions. “Good news: I don’t think we’ll have to worry about any capes. Now, if we can just convince the aliens to stay away, we might finally manage to have ourselves a goddamn peaceful weekend.”
Her friends laughed, and Tori chuckled as well, though there wasn’t really much mirth in her at the moment. Tomorrow brought an element of unpredictable chaos, and there was no guarantee that when the dust settled, things wouldn’t have changed. As someone who finally liked where her life was at, the idea scared Tori, the same fear that had helped act as a drive during her suit repairs.
When Tori felt afraid, her instinct was not to curl up and hide. Whatever was out there and coming to fuck with her, or the few people she cared about, would find a mad-eyed woman willing to fight tooth and nail to protect what was hers. Well, she’d certainly be willing to break somebody’s teeth and nails, at any rate.
Whatever the Wrexwren were planning, Tori sure hoped they knew the fight they were in for. Otherwise, the savagery they were facing almost wouldn’t feel fair.
Chapter 102
When the Wrexwren ships first entered Earth’s space, it was a very different event than the Grzzniltan visitation. Since the last extra-worldly visitors hadn’t been bringing a fleet, there had been substantially less concern. This time, it seemed all but a given that there was a fight looming, and the citizens of Earth had endured too many such frays to be caught unaware. Families sheltered in place where possible, or banded together in large community centers. Weapons were passed out, and those with meta-human abilities were assigned roles best fitting to their talents. The world at large prepared to weather a storm from the far reaches of outer space.
Quorum and Professor Quantum were in the same room as Lodestar, where they’d been waiting and talking for the past hour, until this moment arrived. Another message lit up the equipment, a new transmission from the Wrexwren. On the large screen, dozens of imposing ships filled the sky: strange and alien, yet with the familiar hallmarks of machines made for war. Weapons, shielding, maneuverability—the exact shape might change, but the generalities remained the same. In the center was a larger vessel, almost like four balls of metal yarn: one at the center and three linked with tubing that seemed much too thin to exist outside the weightlessness of space.
“Signal source confirms, that’s our mothership.” Professor Quantum ran a finger along the readout, checking carefully. “Whatever big object they’re dragging, it’s still managing to stay hidden from our censors. We can at least tell it is significantly behind them, though.”
“Which may or may not matter, depending what it is and how fast it can move,” Quorum added. “All we can safely presume is that it will not be something that turns the tide in our favor.”
“Doesn’t really change anything, does it? I go handle the fight, you two take care of anything they try to pull while I’m gone. Any surprises, we roll with.” Lodestar couldn’t help staring at that void in their readings, even as she dismissed it. All of this felt too well-organized. For off-world invaders, everything seemed to be running smoothly. They had a plan, and while she didn’t know it yet, Lodestar also wasn’t convinced that things would go as easily as they hoped. Although, that could have easily just been the inner voice of experience.
Standing nearby, Professor Quantum finished reading over the communication. “Seems they’re ready to host guests. We’ve got thirty minutes to present a champion and claim the right to duel; otherwise, the invasion begins.”
“You’re getting ever faster at translations,” Quorum complimented.
“Yes, but also, they sent it in multiple Earth languages.” Professor Quantum seemed unbothered by the news—they’d already suspected the Wrexwren to have advanced information. This merely confirmed it.
“Half an hour isn’t a lot of time.” It wasn’t a concern, but Lodestar wanted to make sure she understood as much as possible. Once these things got going, there usually wasn’t a chance for reflection.
Professor Quantum tilted his head in agreement. “My best guess would be it’s a remnant of their culture too sacred to disregard, while also deeply inconvenient to the act of world-conquering, so they honor it in a cursory fashion. Whatever the case, no one sets a time limit that short and plans a grace period.”
No point in wasting her window, then. Lodestar did one last equipment test, checking her communicator, Professor Quantum’s newest galactic translator, the long-range scanning goggles, and other tidbits that helped make her job easier. Everything came back singing, as she’d expected. Professor Quantum had a lot of traits that caused friction between the two of them; his dedication to the work was never among them.
“This is Lodestar. Preparing to initiate contact.”
“Lodestar, we’re reading you loud and clear. Good luck, and godspeed.”
The voice on the other end represented one of the countless support staff who would be monitoring her feed, along with that of all the other active superheroes, as they tried to keep this situation contained. With a clock ticking down and all her prep work out of the way, there was only one thing left to do.
Lodestar leapt into the air, defying gravity like she took pleasure in it, which was accurate. In the ceiling, she slipped through one of the hatches designed for expressly this purpose. When the world needed Lodestar, it was often time sensitive, so after the tenth roof she’d burst through, the new design rule was to leave her some escape options.
Once clear of the AHC’s base, she rose up, higher into the sky. Ridge City spread out below, a beautiful tapestry of roads, homes, businesses, communities—a society of people going about their lives. As she rose, Lodestar could pick out familiar landmarks: her own home, currently empty as Penelope waited elsewhere, watching the television to see her mommy fly. Without meaning to, her eyes swept further out, to the under-construction lot that was Ivan’s house. More locales filled her vision: Penelope’s favorite yogurt shop, Mr. Bando’s karaoke bar, and a small patch of seemingly inconsequential street not far from downtown where a significant punch was once thrown.
Rising higher, more of the world came into view. Human eyes could never have taken it all in, but Lodestar was decades past being human. She could see most of her home nation, from the quiet hamlet of Canple, where her first life had started and ended, to the bustling metropolis of Faucet Hills, where she learned to be a cape. So many places, where she’d fought so many dangers. Higher and higher, until she was past the atmosphere, out into the true vacuum of space.
She loved this spot. In the early Lodestar days, before she learned to completely control her abilities, it was her quiet place. Up here, with the right angle, it was like she could literally hold the entire world in her palm. It would be so much easier to protect that way. Sometimes, she liked to imagine a version where things were that simple. Today wasn’t about peace, however. Someone had gone and parked a fleet of warships much too close to her relaxing place for Lodestar’s tastes.
Time to give them a proper Earth greeting.
Just as she turned, Lodestar caught a flash from below—that would have to be trusted to the other superheroes. She had a deadline to beat. Flying over to the mothership, Lodestar scanned for anything that seemed like it might be a docking port. While she could survive the crushing void of space without issue, not every species fared so well, and ripping a hole in their ship was a bit extreme before the fight had officially started.
Near what she thought of as the top of the pseudo-yarn ball, Lodestar spotted what appeared to be a large opening with some sort of energy barrier in front. Trusting that to be for keeping space out rather than ships or visitors, she set course and soared through, causing a commotion of surprised noises from the various Wrexwren gathered in what looked like their version of a hangar.
It was her first time seeing a Wrexwren, and they were certainly a sight to behold. Much like their ship, there was no real front or back: four hug
e arms, four squat legs, a thick torso, and heads without any visible features, all completely covered in what appeared to some sort of natural armor. It was sort of akin to stone, except far shinier. They began to speak to each other hurriedly, platelets in the armor of their face opening and closing quickly to create shrill tones that her translator picked up perfectly. They were surprised, but not flabbergasted.
“Somebody called for a champion from Earth. I’m here to take up the fight.”
More tones, though with less panicked energy. After a few moments, a new Wrexwren stepped out from an archway. This one was larger than the others, his armor a dark hue with spiked sections poking out. Perhaps it had to do with their roles in the society, or maybe genetics was as fickle a mistress on other worlds as it was on Earth.
“You are the Lodestar.” The voice didn’t come out of the face, which made the same tones as the others. It had a small blue device ringed around its neck, and that was where the words originated from.
“Guess my reputation precedes me,” she replied. “May I ask your name?”
This time, there was a delay between the whistles and the translator, as if it were processing. “My true name is unpronounceable in your tongue. The closest translation would be Salvrin, and I am the Zerle of this vessel.”
“Got it. Nice to meet you, Salvrin.”
Two of the arms sort of... shimmied, in a way Lodestar had no idea how to interpret. “A name is a thing given to all. I hold no pride in it. Zerle is a title of great honor. I will not be addressed without it.”
“My apologies, Zerle Salvrin. Your culture is a new one to me. I meant no offense.” Evidently, shaking arms indicated annoyance; that was probably a good note to file away. For now, she had to play nice. No matter how obvious their intentions were, she wouldn’t give them an excuse to start anything.
“Of little matter. You will follow. Time runs short.” Zerle Salvrin motioned for Lodestar to come with him, moving with surprising grace for those stubby legs. She also noted that his fingers had claws, a distinction from the other Wrexwren visible; one more feature to mark him as dangerous.
Walking through the ship was bizarre, even by Lodestar’s extraterrestrial-vehicle standards. Riddled with loops and repeated sections, it was akin to a maze of mirrors, only without actually needing any mirrors to function. When Zerle Salvrin finally came to a halt, however, it was not in some reinforced room, as Lodestar was expecting. Instead, they appeared to be at a communications station, based on the number of screens and flickering holograms.
At her arrival, nearly every other Wrexwren filed out, until it was only her, Zerle Salvrin, and a few other Wrexwren that also had spikes on their armor. His clawed hands began to tap at the screen.
“Before you formally accept this challenge, you should know that leaving once it begins is akin to a forfeit. Should you flee, for any reason, the victory goes to the Wrexwren.”
Without warning, the other Wrexwren let out a high-pitched tone. There was no translation in her ear for that one, which meant it was probably just the sound of them cheering.
Something was off, that was obvious by now. The hidden package they were towing, the specific condition, all of it was part of a plan. Unfortunately, she didn’t see any way around it. Her only option was to be strong and fast enough to neutralize their scheming.
Zerle Salvrin kept right on clicking as he talked, laying out the question like a hunter setting down steel jaws. “Knowing that, do you, Lodestar, accept the role as Earth’s defender?”
“Objection!” This was not a Wrexwren voice, or Lodestar’s, but it was one she knew quite well. Half-surprised, and then surprised at the fact that she was surprised, Lodestar turned to see the unmistakable form of Doctor Mechaniacal in full meta-suit strolling up casually, with Xelas on his heels. Thinking back to that flash from below, she realized they must have been flying a ship that launched only a few minutes behind her. “That message you sent out made the invitation to any of Earth’s citizens. Who says Lodestar gets to take the job just because she was here first? It’s our home, too, you know. We do have a stake in this.”
Several of the other Wrexwren moved position slightly, the most active one suddenly finding a seared patch of flesh roasting on his arm. Across the communications station, Xelas wiggled a still glowing finger. “Ah-ah-ah. We came here nice and chummy, playing by your rules. I’d be very certain of myself before deciding you want to play by ours.”
Zerle Salvrin held up one of his four fists, and the other Wrexwren relaxed. “Very well. Do you wish to challenge her for the right? If it is not settled by the time limit, then Earth will have no defender.”
“Me?” Doctor Mechaniacal put a hand on his metal chest, causing a clang. “Oh no. I’m not much of a fighter, especially not compared to these two. But I like a good fight, you see. One with real stakes and effort. Having you spring this on Lodestar and send her flying off would have killed all the fun.” With one motion, Doctor Mechaniacal hit a button on his suit. A holographic image suddenly bloomed from a light in his hand.
The creature was massive and hideous, like a giant mouth hooked to a long body with various limbs stretching out, none quite like the others. “No idea what this thing is called, but I’ve been able to figure out quite a bit of other information. It appears to survive on plasma, and based on the energy readings of what they’ve been using to lure it along, my guess is it’s the sort one finds in stars. Seems to eat every signal and light we shine on it—that’s why it stayed hidden, like a living black hole.”
Doctor Mechaniacal’s words felt like tumblers clicking into place. A threat she couldn’t ignore, even with the stakes established, one so powerful that Lodestar was the only person who might be able to stop it. But bringing in something to eat their sun? That was beyond invasion. They were willing to leave this world as nothing more than a cold husk.
“Is it who I think?” Lodestar didn’t look at Doctor Mechaniacal. Her eyes were still on the monster, one that was flying not nearly far enough behind this very ship, heading toward the Earth’s sun.
“Indeed, and he will be along shortly. We had him make sure the hangar was closed to any other potential interruptions.”
“You have ruined our surprise, but it matters not,” Zerle Salvrin declared. “Earth’s hero must still choose. Defend your world from us, or from the Scralthor. Time runs short.”
It was hopeless. She knew that already. The die was cast, and there would be no going back, but she still had to try. Lodestar saved people. It was who she was. “Listen to me, Zerle Salvrin. Whatever you think you’re doing, you’re wrong. I know how this sounds, and it must seem like prey in a trap begging for its life. But you are the one with the jaws closing in. While there’s still time, send that creature away. Sit down and talk with us as visitors, not invaders. Please, you have no idea what you’re getting your people into.”
This time, the pitches oscillated, high and low, long and short. Without fully understanding how she knew, Lodestar was certain she was hearing the Wrexwren version of laughter. “Pathetic. We’d been warned to no end of how dangerous Earth’s great champion is, yet she merely begs.”
Being a superhero was as much about accepting limits as challenging them. Lodestar couldn’t be everywhere, couldn’t do everything. Sometimes, she had to make the hard choices, and this was no exception. Shaking her head, she turned from Zerle Salvrin. “Remember, this was the path you wanted.”
The footsteps came from the same hall as Doctor Mechaniacal and Xelas had. This entity had no desire to sneak, however. He came strolling in, knocking a few globs of green-blue blood from his hands. It had been a long time since Lodestar saw the full outfit—as much as one could call it that. There had never been much of a formal costume: dark clothes, sometimes a leather jacket tossed on, an ensemble built for function over fashion. There was no need to glitz up the outfit when the mask already stood out so well. Blood red—because in the beginning, it had been actual blood; even his dis
guise referenced the sort of mess his fights had left behind. The eyes were still normal, but she’d seen the trick enough to know that they could change at a moment’s notice.
Her breath caught in her throat. When Lodestar asked if it was who she expected, she’d meant Pseudonym. This was so, so much worse. What happened with Apollo was one thing, losing control in a fit of rage over his children.
If Ivan had donned that mask in advance, it was a declaration of intent.
Walking past, too aware of the clocks on them both, Lodestar whispered as lightly as she dared. “If there’s any mercy to be shown, try to find it.”
“They had their chance for mercy. Now, they get me.”
Roughly the answer she’d expected. Which meant her only option was to go deal with the Scralthor fast enough to still make a difference here. Not an easy task by any means, but being the strongest superhero meant Lodestar got the hardest jobs. As she flew away, back through the ship and out of the now wrecked hangar, Lodestar wasn’t quite quick enough to miss Doctor Mechaniacal’s words.
“My dear extraterrestrials, and the countless millions watching this stream at home, allow me to present Earth’s defender for this duel: Fornax.”
Chapter 103
“There’s something up.” Beverly couldn’t say exactly why the sensation was there. It was no singular element, no suspicious figure walking past the same alley three times, nor covert whispers being traded by unsavory characters. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but it felt like there was too much foot traffic around them, given what was happening. And she was pretty sure some of the faces had repeated. Then, there were the oddities, like a man in a full suit trying to hide what looked like neck tattoos, and the businesswoman whose dress showed the telltale outline of a knife. Part of her brain whispered for her to ignore the hunch, but her family had long ago taught her that intuition was often your gut being smarter than your head. Always worth at least a listen.