by wildbow
“You’re going to keep doing what you did with me?” Rebecca bounced in place. It took so little effort to move so high. She was better. She was alive, like she hadn’t been for months and months.
“I’m going to find an alternative as soon as possible. The risks are too high, at present. You can understand that what I have is valuable, and every time I approach a potential patient, I face the possibility that I’m going to be exposed.”
“They’ll stop you?”
“They’ll try. I have her to guard me,” the Doctor nodded in the direction of the dark-haired girl. “But I’d rather work without interference.”
“So what do we do now? What do I do?”
“I have ideas. Would you object to accompanying me for some time? I could use another bodyguard.”
“I don’t even know what I do.”
“Nor do I. But I think it would be a bad idea for you to return home.”
Rebecca stared down at her hands, clenched and unclenched them. What would her parents say? What would the doctors and nurses say?
She walked across the empty building. By the time she reached the other end, she was floating, her feet not even touching the ground. She set her hands on the wall, dragged her fingertips through the concrete, then crushed it in her hands. It should have ruined her skin, left scrapes or torn her fingernails, short as they were, but it hadn’t.
I used to be a shadow of a person, barely there. Now I’m something more in every way.
When she turned around, the girl in the school uniform was whispering in the Doctor’s ear.
The Doctor spoke, “Two years, then you decide if you want to stay.”
Rebecca looked down at the concrete dust that had settled in the lines and folds of her hands, met the Doctor’s eyes and nodded.
* * *
May 1st, 1988
“Alexandria,” the Doctor called.
Alexandria waited patiently as Contessa adjusted her cape, then strode through the door. The Doctor was there, of course. Professor Manton, too. The boy with the math powers was there, standing next to a boy who was staring off into space.
“She’s young,” Legend said, sizing her up.
“She’s also one of my best yet,” the Doctor said.
“I’ve heard of her,” Hero said. “Los Angeles?”
Alexandria nodded.
“You took down Strongarm and Mongler. It was impressive,” he said.
“Thank you.”
The Doctor spoke, “She’s as strong as any parahuman we’ve recorded. Flies at speeds that match your own, Legend. Near-perfect memory retention, accelerated processing and learning.”
Legend gave her another serious look. She wore a black costume with a skirt, knee-high boots and elbow-length gloves. A heavy cape flowed behind her back. Her black hair was held back out of her face by the metal visor that covered the upper half of her face.
“It’s more typical for heroes to wear brighter colors,” he said. “It conveys a more positive image.” His own costume was a testament to that philosophy, blue with flames and lightning stencils in white.
“Black’s more utilitarian,” the Doctor said. “Harder to see in the dark.”
“And it’s easier to get the blood out,” Alexandria added.
Legend frowned. “Do you get a lot of blood on your costume?”
“I hit really hard,” she said, deadpan.
He didn’t seem to appreciate the humor. It didn’t matter.
“Okay,” Hero said, folding his arms. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Alexandria. But I’m not sure I see the point of this, Doctor.”
“You each committed to assisting my enterprise, in exchange for the powers I could grant.”
“Yeah,” Hero said.
“Now I have two things I’d like you to consider. The first is… well, you could consider it a new arrangement.”
“Alright. I can keep an open ear,” Legend said. Eidolon and Hero nodded in agreement. “What’s your proposal?”
“It’s not my proposal. Alexandria?”
Alexandria felt her heart skip a beat as the three heroes turned their attention to her, but she kept her emotions from her face.
“This room, I would argue, contains the most powerful parahumans in the world, Scion excepted. The good you accomplish is undeniable. Even if villains outnumber the heroes, powers have come to benefit the world in the long run. A golden age, if you will.”
Legend nodded.
“But we know that trigger events tend to produce damaged, disturbed and unbalanced individuals. Any traumatic event will do that, and a trauma punctuated by the acquisition of superpowers is going to leave a lasting impression. Trigger events produce more villains. We know this.”
The Doctor cut in, “And I’m producing more heroes than villains. For now, the proportion favors us, and you’ve been able to keep the criminal element in line. For the most part. But even as I expand my operations, I have come to the realization that I can only produce so much. And the rate of parahuman growth is expanding. The next twenty years are projected to produce a total number of six hundred and fifty thousand people with powers, worldwide.”
Alexandria spoke, “I’ve looked at the numbers, at the growth, the trends, checked and double checked them. Even if the rate decreases, we’re going to get outpaced and we’re going to get outpaced hard. The people with trigger events will outnumber the Doctor’s clients, and we’ll wind up with three to ten villains for every hero that steps forward.”
Legend, Eidolon and Hero were paying attention.
The Doctor spoke, “Alexandria and I have discussed this at length. A recurring worry is that as much as I’ve been able to gift you three, you four with exemplary abilities, we could see other threats of comparable power.”
“Is there any evidence of this?” Hero asked. “You haven’t explained how you create the powers, but what you’ve said leads me to believe you’re producing something purer than what everyone else gets.”
“Purer? Perhaps. But the purer something is, the more fragile it becomes. The process seems to be influenced heavily by psychological strain and stress. Almost an inverse of the trigger event phenomenon. You know there’s a possibility that the formula can become tainted, giving inhuman characteristics to the unfortunate subjects. This is despite the most sterile conditions. I’m improving the results over time, with Professor Manton’s help, but there are no guarantees.”
“The point we’re getting around to,” Alexandria spoke, “is that even if the Doctor can get better results with time and effort, the explosion in the natural parahuman population is inevitably going to produce an individual with powers that outstrip our own.”
“So we lose in the long run?” Eidolon asked. “We’re doomed?”
“No. Because I’d like to propose a solution. A way to assert control. I want to band together. Form a team.”
Legend leaned against the wall. “There are teams forming already. Yes, we’d be powerful, influential, but I don’t see how that addresses the problems.”
“Simple. We do what the government’s been pushing for. We regulate. We bend to the government’s yoke, all four of us together. We follow their stipulations and regulations.”
“That sounds like a horrendously bad idea,” Eidolon spoke. “Why?”
“Because if it was us four, together? We could afford to push back if they pushed too hard, and they’d know that. And just by being there, we could make the project attractive enough to bring others in.”
Legend turned, “And how does this benefit you, Doctor?”
“It doesn’t. Not directly. That’s why this is Alexandria’s proposal.”
“But,” Manton spoke, his voice gravelly for his relatively young age, “We could send some of our clients to you. Happier clients are better for business.”
Legend folded his arms. “And you’d want to be in charge, Alexandria?”
“No. I think you or Hero would be a better choice, to portray a kind
face and a positive image. You two wear the colorful costumes.”
“Not Eidolon?” Hero asked.
“He’s too powerful. Not saying either of you aren’t, but we wouldn’t be able to convey the impression that it’s the government in control of the heroes if it was Eidolon front and center.”
Legend nodded. “You’ve given this a lot of consideration.”
“More than a little,” Alexandria admitted. “I have an eight stage plan to incorporate parahumans into society, I’ve also researched and developed plans for marketing and monetizing capes. America is the most powerful country in the world, and it’s a capitalist nation, first and foremost. We’ll use that.”
“Seems to be getting away from the idea of doing good deeds for the sake of doing good deeds,” Eidolon said.
“It is, but that’s inevitable. The post-baby boomer generation is growing up. Couple that with the explosion in parahuman numbers, and this situation threatens to get well out of control. We need structure and organization if we’re going to keep things intact.”
“There’s no guarantee your plan will survive contact with government,” Legend said.
“There’s one guarantee.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m estimating that it will take at least five years to establish this plan nationwide. In that span, we’ll start with only a few groups in the largest cities, we’ll gradually and gratefully accept involvement and oversight from government and law enforcement. We’ll also create a sub-group for minors with powers, so we can strictly structure their environment and development. Those are the key points. That gives me time to address your doubts.”
“Again, how?”
“I expect we’ll be able to employ the remainder of the plan, the eight-stage integration of parahumans with the public, because I will be in a position of power in the government. I, my civilian self, can be in charge of the government-sponsored superhero teams within eight years.”
“There’s too many holes in that plan. People will wonder why Alexandria and your secret identity aren’t in the same place at once.”
“There’s more than one solution to that. For one thing, I can work faster and better than my unpowered peers. For another, the Doctor thinks she can find a suitable body double with similar powers before the deadline. I designed this costume to be elegant without being attention-getting. No color, as you pointed out. And I don’t seek leadership of the team. Instead, I will content myself with working to guide legislation to where we need it.”
“It seems so manipulative. Everything people feared we’d be doing,” Hero said.
“I have booklets of paperwork you can look over. All of the math, all of the projected issues for the future, and all of my proposals and plans. You don’t have to give me an answer right away. Just consider it.”
“Okay,” Hero said.
“And,” the Doctor said, “I think it goes without saying that everything said in this room stays in this room?”
There were nods all around.
“Good. Thank you. There’s one more thing I would like to show you. If you’ll accompany me?”
She turned to the girl in the suit and the young man with the thousand-yard stare.
“You know where to take us.”
The girl in the suit placed her hands on his shoulders, tapping one twice. In response, the boy raised his hands, bidding the back wall of the room to fold out into an area that shouldn’t have been there. Bright sunlight streamed down around them, a salt-scented wind blowing in their faces.
“My god,” Legend said.
“He gained a very valuable set of powers, but there was an unfortunate effect on his perceptions. He sees too much at once. He’s effectively blind and deaf. He agreed to work for me in exchange for care and comfort.”
Eidolon and Hero advanced to the edge of the window, staring out at a landscape of tidy concrete buildings and overlarge trees. There was a coast there, too.
“I will be locating my operations there in the future. Doormaker will shuttle you to and from my base in the future.”
“Where is it?”
“Another Earth.”
“Like Earth Aleph? The one Haywire opened the portal to?”
“In some respects, yes.” The Doctor gestured, and Contessa squeezed the boy’s shoulders again. The portal shut. “My assistant will hand you the booklets Alexandria prepared for her project. Doormaker will then take each of you home in turn. Thank you.”
One by one, the others departed. Legend was first through the doorway Doormaker created, taken to New York. Both Eidolon and Hero made their way to Chicago. Professor Manton and the others left.
Only Alexandria and the Doctor remained.
“You didn’t tell them about our long-term goals,” Alexandria spoke.
“No. There’s issues that have to be addressed first. We’ve already discussed several.”
“Anything I can do?”
“You have your end of the project. I feel they’ll come around. Focus on that. I’ll handle the projected issues on my side of things. Just need to find the right individual. Someone I can groom, perhaps. Between you and I, one of us is bound to succeed.”
Alexandria nodded.
“Your two years are up in three months. Will you be returning to your family?”
“I nearly forgot. I’ve been so busy.” Alexandria frowned.
“It might do you good to see them.”
“Maybe.” Why did she have her doubts? Why didn’t she want to go home?
“Good. I do expect you’ll return?”
“Of course.”
Maybe, she realized, it was because every memory of her family was tinged with the feelings of despair, of loss. With the Doctor, she had hope.
* * *
December 13th, 1992
Big.
The clawed hand speared toward the sky, followed by an arm the size of an oak tree. When it turned to slam against the ground, bracing for leverage, she could feel the impact rippling through the air. The dry ground shifted, bulged and cracked as he shouldered his way up and out from underground.
Really big.
Forty-five feet tall at the very least, he climbed forth from underground. His skin was crusted with black stone that might have been obsidian, layers of what might have been cooled magma sloughing off of him as he planted his feet on the ground and stood straight.
‘Straight’ might have been too generous. He was built like a caricature of a bodybuilder, or a bear-human hybrid. He rippled with muscle, his skin gray, thick and leathery like the hide of a rhinoceros or elephant. His black obsidian horns were so heavy his head hung down. They weren’t rooted in his forehead, but in the middle of his face, a half-dozen curved shafts of black crystal twisting their way out of his face and back over the top of his head, some ten feet long. A single red eye glowed from between the gap in two horns, positioned too low. His mouth was a jagged gap in his lower face, twisting up to a point near his temple, lined by jagged horn-like growths that were too irregular to be called teeth.
His claws were the same, not hands in the conventional sense, but mangled growths of the same material that made up his horns, many of the growths as large as Alexandria herself. He could flex them, move them, but they were clearly weapons and nothing else.
The rest of the Protectorate was present, and the local heroes, the Mythics. Rostam, Jamshid, Kaveh, Arash.
It somehow didn’t feel like enough. They’d come anticipating earthquake relief. Not this.
The creature roared, and as invulnerable as she was, it almost hurt. A whirlwind blast of sand ripped past them. Kaveh stumbled back, collapsed, blood pouring from his ears, one of his eyeballs obliterated.
The fight hadn’t even started, and they’d lost someone.
“Hero,” Legend spoke with the smallest tremor in his voice, “Call for help, as much as you can get.”
The creature, the Behemoth, stepped closer, raising one claw and pointed at Kaveh. Ka
veh the Smith, the builder, the forger.
The man ignited from the inside out, flame and smoke pouring from every orifice as he was turned into a burned-out husk in a matter of seconds. His skeleton disintegrated into fine dust and ash as it crashed to the ground.
He can bypass the Manton effect. She thought, stunned. She flew forward, trying to draw his attention, interjecting herself between the Behemoth and the others.
He pointed his claw once more, and she braced herself, gritting her teeth. Time to see how invincible I am.
But it wasn’t fire. A lightning bolt flashed from the tip of Behemoth’s claw, arcing around her and striking one of her subordinates in a single heartbeat, before leaving only the smell of ozone. She flew in close, slamming her hands into his face, driving him back, throwing him off-balance.
He struck her and drove her into the ground. His flame burned through her, the sand was turning to glass around her, burning her costume, but it didn’t burn her.
But she couldn’t breathe. She flew back and out of the way until she had air again. She stared at the scene that was unfolding, the heroes beating a hasty retreat as that thing advanced, slow and implacable.
“Shit,” Hero’s voice came over the communications channel.
“What?” she responded. Legend was pelting the thing with lasers that could have burned buildings to the ground, and he was barely leaving a mark. Eidolon was manipulating the sand, creating barriers while simultaneously drawing sand out from beneath their enemy, while pelting it with laser blasts that he spat from his mouth.
At least he’s too slow to dodge or get out of the way of trouble.
“Guys back home say we’re close to some major oil fields.”
She shook herself free of glass and dirt and threw herself back into the fray. A bad situation was suddenly critical. The creature roared again, and the force of the noise threw her flight off course. Eidolon’s makeshift walls collapsed and more heroes fell, bleeding from heavy internal damage.
They’d been right after all. Dumb luck had created a parahuman as dangerous as what the Doctor could create by design.
Fire, sonic, lightning. And he hit me harder than he should have, even being as big as he is. Kinetic energy, too.