by Drew Hayes
About what she’d anticipated; anything that was eating suns wouldn’t be that vulnerable to simple energy blasts. Part of her hoped that would have been enough to garner a kernel of attention, though, and in a way, she was right. Red beams caught her directly in the torso while her attention remained on the Scralthor, pushing her back a full inch in surprise. Glancing up, she noticed the Wrexwren ships that had been leading the cosmic monstrosity were now pointing in her direction, one charging to follow the first’s shot.
Moving faster than either ship could dream of tracking, she raced right past, twisting around behind the pair and letting off a shot of her own from each hand. Unlike the Scralthor, these alien crafts were not made of some nigh indestructible natural armor, a truth that was proven nicely as Lodestar sliced up their engines, leaving them both adrift until the main forces could send someone to scoop them up.
That done, she turned back to the Scralthor, which was quite easy to do, because this close, it occupied more of the space around her than less. “Just you and me now, big guy. Please give me some kind of sign that there’s sentience in there.” Her right hand was already formed into a fist, too aware of the inevitable outcome she was staring down. Still, she had to try. With power like hers, it was so easy to turn force into the default solution. Only by attempting to make peace could she truly be free to fight, certain that there was no other way available in the moment.
No response as the creature continued to swim through nothingness, path unchanged even as its guides fell by the wayside. So be it, then. Time to see how the Scralthor held up against direct strikes.
Of all the suit capabilities Hephaestus hadn’t expected to need today, texting was proving to be the underdog MVP. Responding to Cyber Geek’s—and soon Tachyonic’s—rapid requests for assurance that she was okay was all that kept them from charging down the hall to confirm Tori’s safety in person, which was a very good thing for Hephaestus and Bahamut. She added a line about spotty service to both of them, hoping that would buy some breathing room if they tried to chat mid-fight. Covertly responding inside her suit wouldn’t be quite so easy while also battling for survival.
“At least we’re in an older building, from when they made them to last rather than break safely.” Cold Shoulder was running her hands along the exposed brick wall, getting as close as she dared to the window and scoping out a view. She nearly knocked over one of several empty ice cream containers poking out of a trash can, a caloric giveaway that someone with super-speed lived here. “Want me to ice-wall over that and limit our exposure?”
“Not yet. If anyone spots it from outside, we’ve basically given away our position, and right now, we need the advantage of surprise.” Cyber Geek was cycling back and forth, coordinating with Tachyonic as they waited for the rest of the New Science Sentries to arrive. He’d ended up in something of a pacing circle around Austin’s go-to chair, like he was trying to conjure help here faster with a slapdash summoning circle.
It was more or less the outcome they’d specifically been trying to avoid—this outdoor assemblage of assholes had managed to bait the real targets nearly into the open. Once the New Science Sentries were known to be on the scene, Hephaestus had a hunch that the rules of the game were going to change. Everything so far had been about drawing them in. Once it was time to spring the trap, there was no more need for niceties.
As Hephaestus saw it, every plan they formed would come from one of three foundations: send away the New Science Sentries and let the siege continue, use them as mobile bait to draw away the attackers, or let them join the fight. The second option was easily her favorite, and the one she knew would be all but impossible to talk anyone into. Even if they trusted her while under this helmet, there was no way the New Science Sentries would run off and leave another team of capes surrounded by criminals, in a room with a pair of villains, along with the civilians they were supposed to be protecting. Maybe, if they knew the whole situation, it would be viable, but this was one cost of living a double life: she couldn’t tell people everything she knew, even when it would be extremely helpful information for them to have.
Finishing a sweep of the perimeter, Bahamut circled back around, sidling up next to Hephaestus under a giant light-up beer display that they both instinctively knew was Ike’s. Medley had been watching them both without pause, barely even blinking, and they had no lack of understanding as to why: he expected them to turn traitor at any moment. In truth, Hephaestus couldn’t even say it was a farfetched concept. Her goal was to get everyone she liked through this day alive; whether or not they were fond of the meta-suit-wearing villain in the end wasn’t a central part of that equation. It did mean they had to choose every word carefully, though, since these were going to be very public conversations.
“How’s the fight going?” Bahamut asked.
The short answer was “bad.” A small section of the helmet’s inner screen was showing a muted version of the fight stream, and when Hephaestus could bring herself to look, what she saw was her mentor getting smacked around, thrown into walls, even dripping blood. Part of her kept insisting that this had to be a trick, part of some grand villain scheme, but the bright streaks of red made that idea harder to cling to. The mere fact that the Wrexwren leader could even make Fornax bleed spoke to the power in those alien blows.
“The same,” Hephaestus replied finally. “I’m sure he’s got a plan.”
That garnered a snort from Medley. “If that’s the real Fornax, then I doubt it. His whole deal was being a walking disaster. He isn’t one to plan, and sure not the sort to get his ass kicked by a lone alien. That’s either a fake, or he’s gone soft.”
“You have—and I cannot stress this enough—absolutely no fucking idea what you’re talking about.” She was coming back at him too hard, could even feel herself doing it, yet the rage couldn’t be stopped. It wasn’t even anger, really, just fear. The oldest fear she had, the one she thought would never apply to someone like Ivan: she was afraid to lose a person she cared about, and the semi-parental shape of their relationship only made the ache hit all the deeper. “That’s the real Fornax, and he’s going to win. It’s what he does. There’s only one exception to that rule, and it sure as shit isn’t that Wrexwren bastard.”
“I’m sure he’ll be fine.” Hat Trick wandered over, laying a careful hand on Hephaestus’s arm. The rest kept their distance from Hephaestus and Bahamut, but she seemed entirely unconcerned by their villain status. “Lodestar wouldn’t have left it in his hands otherwise.”
Still positioned semi-near the window, Cold Shoulder shook her head. “Didn’t seem like she had much of a choice in the matter.”
“When you’re as powerful as they are, you always have choices,” Bahamut said. “For right now, let’s trust that the ones more experienced than us are making smart calls, even if we can’t grasp their significance yet. Our bigger concern is the mini-army outside. With Agent Quantum, myself, and Medley on the scene, we have a good amount of heavy hitters, plus Cold Shoulder if she makes that big ice body. Plasmodia and Hephaestus can snipe for us, putting Presto, Tachyonic, and Hat Trick in flex positions. Cyber Geek, given your array of tools, I’d assume you can fill any of those roles as needed, so let’s decide where we’re weakest and shore things up.”
Nearby, Cyber Geek blinked in visible surprise. “That’s surprisingly close to what Tachyonic and I have come up with.”
“I know.” Bahamut tapped the side of her head, where ears would be. She seemed to realize the absence at the same time as everyone else. “Er, you get what I mean. Good hearing, even for hushed phone conversations, and it’s not a hard composition to sort out.”
“The bigger question is what do we do with those teams?” Medley interjected. “How do we drive off this mob while not plunging everyone on this block into a meta-brawl?”
That was an exceptional point, but thankfully, one Hephaestus already saw the fix for. “While we don’t know for sure what or who they want, it’s clearly
all focused on this building. If the New Science Sentries join us, it ensures that the focus stays trained here. At that point, it becomes a game of funneling them where we can and picking through. Snipers on the roofline to keep them from swarming, heavies in the halls to block their progress, and so on.”
“Too risky,” Cyber Geek replied. “Holing up while under fire is one thing, but we can’t bring a brawl inside knowing there are also civilians sheltering here, too.”
Between seeing her mentor getting beaten and feeling trapped in her own home, Hephaestus was not in a patient enough mood to deal with moral objections. This was a survival situation. “Then you get out there and scare them off, superhero. You go show us whatever power you have that’s going to send them screaming into the night. Because as far as I can tell, they’re here to do some damage, and aren’t inclined to leave. This fight is happening, Cyber Geek. The question is if it’s on our terms, or theirs.”
“That said, we do have another asset in the building, unofficially. A friend who is pitching in, and could theoretically guide the survivors somewhere safe,” Bahamut offered. “I believe a lot of the underground parking spots here are concrete-enclosed cubes, the perfect spot for hiding out from a riotous mob.”
Cyber Geek and his team looked at one another, the unspoken question so obvious they may as well have just used words. Trusting the villains was one thing; trusting the villains to handle evacuation, and with an asset they’d never even met—that was asking a lot. Especially considering that the capes believed they had friends hiding out in another room, as well.
“When the Ridge City Riots happened, we ended up having to work with a different pair of villains, Glyph and Pest Control,” Medley stated. “I didn’t like it at the time. Still don’t fully, to be frank, but I can’t say they didn’t hold up their end of the bargain. If you can be like them, then we can walk away from all of this on the same terms. But if you betray us—”
“You’ll carry a grudge that will shine through all eternity and will harass us at every turn until one or both parties are dead. Yeah, man, I’m in a guild of villains. How do you think the people I’m around respond to being betrayed? Our friend will get people somewhere safe; they’ve got ways of moving around and staying unseen. Will that put you at ease enough to accept the inevitable?”
Surprisingly, Cyber Geek nodded to the affirmative. “According to Tachyonic, the rest of the New Science Sentries just arrived, and the outer crowd is getting restless, starting to look at nearby buildings. We have to get their attention and keep it. Everyone ready?”
He looked around, first to his team, then to the pair of villains sharing the room with them. No one objected. They understood where this was heading and were ready to stop cowering.
“Let’s go over starting positions, then get into them as fast as we can. The New Science Sentries are going to arrive with a splash. While we wait, let’s put that free-roaming asset of yours to work. There’s an apartment near here you’ll need to start with.”
“Should be no problem,” Hephaestus confirmed. She said a silent prayer of thanks to Bahamut, who’d just made their lives much, much easier. Not only would “moving” Tori out of supposed proximity lower her chances of being caught, it came with a perfect excuse to let the texting drop. Once her other identity was expected to be surrounded by concrete, even the best phone would have trouble keeping a signal. This was a chance to put Tori out of the way and let Hephaestus have full rein.
She only hoped their efforts fared better than Fornax’s had so far.
Chapter 109
The sound of Wrexwren mirth was grating on Doctor Mechaniacal’s nerves, aided in no small part by watching his oldest friend get beat to hell. The experience couldn’t be pleasant for anyone who cared about Ivan, yet Doctor Mechaniacal felt it all the more keenly, because it was his fault. While the plan had placed huge burdens on others, like Ivan, it was Doctor Mechaniacal and Xelas who were handling the most important piece. Without them, this invasion would simply end, and that would be that. The prime opportunity they’d been handed would slip away, and in a few months, they’d be dancing the same jig with a new set of challengers.
That was why he made no objection or sounds of his own as the Wrexwren let out their whistling titters at Fornax’s beating. There was better use for such mental energy. Because while it appeared that he and Xelas were standing there like good little escorts, watching what looked to be an inevitable defeat, in truth, they were both hard at work. Getting access to the systems had only been the first step. From there, it was a matter of finding what they needed, running digital tests until they found the right settings, and then making sure the implementation was flawless. Given that they were working with alien technology, it was an insane idea, even for meta-genius intellect like his own.
Now, two meta-genius intellects, with years of experience and trust deepening their connection, working in perfect tandem—that was another story. For as rambunctious as she could be, Xelas also possessed one of the most sophisticated digital minds in existence, thanks largely to years of self-directed upgrades and improvements. With her considerable processing power added in, the task went from “utterly impossible” to just “mostly impossible,” and those were odds Doctor Mechaniacal felt quite at home with. Especially considering the progress they were making.
A little bit more. Ivan just had to hang in there for a touch longer, and things would change. He hoped the rest of the guild was out there working hard in this window, because once their plan sprang, the Wrexwren would start behaving very differently. Better to grab all they could before the aliens realized the situation they were really in. At least he didn’t have to worry about most of them getting caught up in the streaming show; they knew Fornax well enough not to expect he’d really go down like this. But based on the numbers ticking by on his helmet screen, quite a few people were tuning in.
That was just as expected, and planned. Seeing Fornax lose would certainly be curious and novel enough to draw more viewers, expanding the size of their audience. They needed to set the stage well and get as many live eyes as possible on the broadcast—the AHC would definitely attempt to purge this footage once the day was done.
And really, given how horrific it would be, Doctor Mechaniacal wasn’t even sure he blamed them.
The small town of Kerber was nestled perfectly between two highways, so as to be convenient for neither. Once it had held a key farm road running through it, but when the new interstate came, the travel business in the town dried up. It managed to hang on thanks to stubborn citizens and enough agriculture to get by, but it would never be a major metropolis. They had no Alliance of Heroic Champions outpost, no superheroes nearby, not even a meta-human among the population. Their law enforcement consisted of a small Sheriff’s outpost, most of which was already burning.
With no real defenses, the town of Kerber had been completely unprepared when a Wrexwren ship crashed into Old Man Gaffleston’s cornfield. Four had emerged, wielding unnatural weapons and whistling in those horrific high-pitched tones. They swept like fire, destroying all they came across as the citizens fled, most holing up in the church near the edge of town.
One member of the city did not go to the church, however. Mrs. Croskey cursed her age as the uphill walk sapped her legs’ strength. She pushed herself onward, ignoring the sounds of buildings collapsing and the Wrexwren whistles, even as it seemed like they were getting closer. Roots tore at her feet, nearly tripping her twice as she pressed farther into the small grove. The third time, she fully tilted over, catching herself on a nearby tree trunk, scraping her hand badly in the process.
The pain didn’t matter, nor did the ache in her lungs. She had to keep going. This was the town’s only hope. None of the others knew such a chance existed; they believed their only meta-residents in history had left, never to return. Only Mrs. Croskey had gotten the visit years later, along with the gift. She’d buried it away, thinking such things best left forgotten. It was an a
ct she regretted all the more with every step.
At last, Mrs. Croskey arrived. Her thin, wrinkled hands plunged into the dirt beneath the gnarled old tree, winding into a small gap of two intertwined roots. The Wrexwren noises were drawing near. If they found her, then they found her. What mattered was the task at hand. Arms already shaking from the overall effort, Mrs. Croskey kept digging, kept hoping, until she felt the cold metal of the box she was searching for.
With the last of her strength, she yanked it out, turning the combination tumblers to their proper position, all while hearing the aliens approach. It took more struggling than she wanted, but finally, the box opened, revealing a small silver device with a single button. On it was a stylized droplet of blood, which was soon covered by the smear of the genuine article Mrs. Croskey’s scraped hand left as she smashed the button down, drawing a brief light under the symbol.
It was done. She collapsed back against a nearby tree, panting so heavily it felt like she might never catch her breath. That was possible. Her body had given too much in the run; perhaps the cost would overwhelm her. It was far from ideal, yet also a chance Mrs. Croskey knew she’d been taking. Her only wish was that she knew everyone would be safe. Devices and promises were one thing, but could she really expect that after so long—
“I’m going to need some field healing. No, a civilian. That’s fine. I’ll go out of pocket. This one is under my protection.”
It was impossible. She’d hit the button less than a minute ago—surely this was a delusion. Yet it seemed quite real as the shadow leaned over, then crouched to look Mrs. Croskey right in the eye. In the years since she’d last seen that gaze, much had changed, but not the determination looking back at her.