by Ben Bequer
“And then?” I said, breaking the silence.
“Well, then I capitalized out of the fund, started a new fund, got bought out again.”
And if my research on the man was accurate, he’d encountered some legal troubles on his other funds as well, though I’m sure he’d made out like a bandit in the process. He bought the apartment for over $100 million only a couple of years ago and had spent at least fifty on decorations and flooring.
“Anyway, let’s go back in and see how the girls are doing. Think about what we talked about, and if there’s any way I can help you with your project, I’m here for you. And if you want a partner…well, I hope you like the word “billionaire” being thrown about when you’re being introduced around town.”
I didn’t look at him for a long time. I scanned the tips and tops of the buildings I could see and thought about all the people who were laying out for me. Not just Jeff and Maddie, but Jason. Jason who wanted so badly to fit me into a life that was just as nice, and probably much easier, without me. Graydon Chase was amiable enough, and a hell of a host, but nothing we had talked about thus far had addressed the real reason I was there. That was on me. Whatever megrims haunted me, it was time to be brave. Facing monsters always seemed easier when they wanted to kill me.
Taking a deep breath, I said, “Chase, listen…”
“Gray,” he said.
“Huh?”
“Call me Gray.”
Grunting, I started again, “Ok...Gray, I’m not here because I need money. Of course, I want money, but I don’t think money is going to be an issue over the long run. I’m looking for something a little more fundamental.”
“Redemption?” he said. “I’ve seen the videos on YouTube, you fighting Lord Mighty and Brutal. Shit, have you seen the Blackjack sites out there? You are a cult figure man. There’s rarer air to find than the anti-establishment guy gone good.”
“Doesn’t mean much when I have to smuggle my way into the United States for a meeting. The only reason the National Guard isn’t waiting for me downstairs is because most of the world governments see me as slightly less dangerous than a nuke.”
“I made a call,” he said.
“What?”
“I know a guy at Homeland Security. Told him to expect you. He owed me one.”
It was my turn to be boggled. He made a call? “That’s a better trick than solving a couple of Rubik’s cubes. That’s what I need. Someone to argue that what I have done, good and bad, are balanced out. Or something to that effect. I want to come home.”
“Well, I’ve got some good news and some bad news,” he said. “Good news? People are very receptive to a comeback story. You’re halfway there, I think. And once people find out that your tech is responsible for rebuilding half the world and making it safe and livable for people? Along with all the good things you’ve done as a hero? It’ll be hard to hate you after that.”
“The bad news?” I said although I had a pretty good idea what he was going to say.
“The bad news is that I’m neither a diplomat or a PR person. I can’t snap my fingers and make people forget. I’ve looked at your jacket. You were publicly tried and convicted. More than that, you’ve made a lot of powerful people look stupid over the years. Not just supers, people with real power. They have long memories and the innate ability to hold a grudge. Your legal troubles can be solved with a retrial, not an appeal, but a full retrial, or a pardon.”
I hung my head. “Shit. I really fucked up.”
“We’ve all fucked up. What’s done is done. You might have to be satisfied with helping the world in secret, but your most vocal supporters are some of the best people I know. This is a puzzle, man. We may not solve it in record time, but we both know that given enough time, every puzzle has a solution.”
“So what you’re saying is that I’m fucked.”
“What I’m saying is that I like you. Your tech is world changing and could make both of us wealthy beyond our imaginations, but I think you’re a good guy. I’m going to do some thinking and make a couple of calls. You have friends out there, we just have to see if any of them have leverage.”
“I appreciate it.”
He raised his bottle and we toasted, “Regardless…to your good health, and to success for both of us.”
And we went inside.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
When You Look A Bitl Like Sephiroth
Madelyne and I rode down the elevator fat and happy. It took a lot of beer to have any effect on us, but there had been plenty to go around. She was as big an eater as me, and we had both gotten our fill.
I felt the smartphone buzzing in my pocket and reached for it, but soon realized what was happening, it was buzzing in some sort of code, softer than the usual “incoming phone call” buzz. I left it in my blazer pocket and counted buzzes, identifying the code as binary.
“Everything okay?” Apogee asked when she noted my silence.
“Full, a bit drunk. How about we go back to the apartment and get naked.”
“Sounds perfect.”
We were spending the night in New York, but I had an early morning with Powermaster and the rest of the Kansas City All-Stars. She was busy with a phone call that lasted from the moment we got in the car until half an hour after we reached the apartment, including a long pause when she lost reception in the elevator. Madelyne two-fisted iPhones, using one to talk to her manager, and another to reply to texts and social media.
I didn't begrudge her, she had an empire to run and it was a miracle that she was accompanying me for all of this in the first place. Once we got home, she went into her office and switched to her audio/Plex so I heard the whole conversation. Listening in, you'd think she was a C.E.O. rather than a superheroine.
I tooled around the apartment, but after an hour, I understood how the rest of the night would go. By the time she was done, I was halfway through a movie and more than drowsy. She came into view and I gave her a smile that must have more dopey than anything because she giggled. “Sorry, babe. Things ran late.”
“S’okey,” I said. I stood pulling at my shirt. She looked amazed rather than aroused and took my hands in hers. "We're headed to the airport early," she said. “I think sleep would be the best thing for both of us."
"Why do we have to go so early? Aren't we flying our own plane?"
"I'm flying back to the Tower. You're going solo to K.C." Madelyne walked to the counter where a stack of mail lay, pulling an envelope from the bunch and handing it to me.
I opened it and looked inside. "I'm flying coach?"
It took three alarms going off in a syncopated rhythm that could induce seizures to wake me. I was careful to hit the snooze without crushing the alarm clock. I felt a light thump as a lump of cold plastic landed on my chest. Madelyne’s phone vibrated in time with the clock. Swiping a finger across the screen silenced the second alarm. Dangling an arm over the edge of the bed, I probed for my phone. Brushing it with my fingers, I tried to grab it but ended up pushing it under the bed.
The alarm was muffled enough that I could ignore it, so I left the phone where it was and laid an arm across my eyes. Madelyne’s hand caressed my chest, her supple warmth pressing into my side. I reached out blindly, finding the rough cotton of her nightshirt. I knew the hem of the shirt ended around her hips, so I rucked it up letting my hand slide along the toned muscle of her flank. She giggled sleepily, and I was about to move my hand further up but thought better of it.
“You better get moving,” she said as if reading my mind.
I groaned a response and sat up. The leg was stiff, and because of the extra stress of walking on the crappy leg, my other knee was sore. Rubbing crust out of my eyes, I stood. The wince was almost reflexive, a premonition that came true as a light, sharp pain radiated from the wound tickling my hip and causing a dull throb in my knee.
“I’m going to scalp that bitch,” Madelyne said, and I turned to find her propped up on an elbow, looking at me.
<
br /> “I’m fine. It’s not that bad.”
“For a villain, you’re a shit liar.”
“Seriously, it’s just healing slow.”
“It should never have happened. If the situation was reversed, we’d have bounced your ass.”
“Well, if you could not commit murder in my name, that’d be great.”
“Long as she steers a wide fucking path around me.”
“I’m going to get a shower and then change my look.”
“I got some work to do, but grab me before you use the device.”
I turned the bedside lamp on and stumbled to the bathroom, moving the bad leg as little as possible. The cane was propped on the edge of the nightstand, but I pretended not to see it. The less I used that stupid thing, the better. I had a toiletries bag packed, but the only thing I grabbed was the device Superdynamic built to alter my appearance. The rest of the stuff in there was bought new for my trip to Kansas City. It was weird to have a whole life stored at the New York apartment, but Madelyne insisted that I have everything I might need stocked at her place in case I stayed the night. It’s like I lived there, though we had never discussed anything formal.
I let the water run hot enough to scald and scrubbed every inch of me. When I stepped out, steam clogged the huge bathroom. I flipped on the fan and opened the door, cool air washing over me. The combination was glorious and I air dried, taking Superdynamic’s device out of the box.
It was the size of an average electric razor. I knew the instructions, take off the fake electric razor blade cover and pass it through my hair, eyebrows and the growing beard on my face. In theory, it was supposed to dye my hair blond. When combined with my recent weight loss and a full-face mask, I’d be unrecognizable. When out of costume I’d still have to wear a cap and glasses, but that was the usual when trying to walk around incognito.
Madelyne wanted to see me use it, but I thought it would be more fun to see the results. Where the razor should be was smooth glass lit by bluish light that was supposed to emit nanites straight into my scalp. It even sounded like an electric shaver when I turned it on. He warned me to use gloves, but I didn’t have any. Who cared if I get blonde hair on my hands? The towel was wrapped around my waist and thanks to Flamestrike, my chest and arms were devoid of hair. It grew back slower than the hair on my head.
There was a knock at the door as I finished. “Babe, you’re getting a call.”
I heard the phone’s video conference alert through the door and stuck a hand through the cracked bathroom door.
“Hey, I want to see,” she said.
“Not done yet,” I said. Nothing had happened, all the hair on my face was still black. Palming the phone, I saw that, funny enough, it was Superdynamic. I answered and the image was of him, driving one of the Tower’s golf cart transports through busy halls. From the background, it looked as if he was in the lower levels, near the bottom floor docking stations. It was brightly lit, the big loading doors open.
“Hey, big guy,” he said. “Figured you had some time before…” Superdynamic stopped, looking at what I was doing. “Aren’t you running a little late? Your flight is in like three hours.”
“You said it’d only take five minutes to do,” I said, propping up the phone on the bathroom counter, aiming the camera at me so we could talk. Nothing had happened, so I applied the treatment again, tempted to push the device harder into my head as if that would make it work.
“Well, it’s just that I never had a chance to test it, you see.”
“Is my hair going to turn purple now?”
He laughed, “It would be an improvement.”
That was his style of humor, puns and ribs at your expense. You got used to it. You fell in love with it.
“Hey, I wanted to ask you something,” I said.
“Shoot.”
“What happened to Lady Armada?”
He tried to play it cool, but I knew the guy. Something was up. “What do you mean? Her injuries?”
“No, dude. Has Apogee talked to you about her?”
“One second,” he said. “You’re defending the woman who stabbed you from the woman you’re with? Is this normal villain behavior or something? The last thing I’d try to do is get in Madelyne’s way when she’s upset.”
“She said something, didn’t she?”
“How do you know? What did you hear?”
I’d finished but nothing was happening to the hair. Well, it looked a tad longer, maybe a half an inch or so but color-wise it looked exactly the same. I figured I’d do another pass.
“I heard nothing,” I said. “I just figured.”
“Well, it wasn’t her,” he said, still being evasive.
“You?”
He looked at the camera, “You think I’m going to involve myself in that kind of drama?”
“No but…” I stopped, figuring it out.
“Epic called me,” he said confirming my fears. Epic heard what happened, and as the leader of Armada’s team and another of Apogee’s exes, brought the hammer down. “She’s suspended for now. I think he wants to find out first hand what happened. Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t say anything. If anything, I told him that you had forgiven her and it was all water under the bridge.”
He didn’t like the in-fighting - especially between his friends.
“And? How long is she suspended?”
“I’m not sure,” he said.
“I’ll call him.”
“Dale, listen to me. I know you’re fine with moving on - I think that’s great, I really do - but she attacked you without provocation. That kind of thing needs to be dealt with, especially with the crazy stuff she was saying.”
So she’d told them about her visions about me going evil, about her and me. That was all I needed, for Apogee to feel the pressure from a hot, young blonde. Just as we were really starting to gel. He was right, Epic would deal with her, and if she wasn’t willing to play ball, then maybe she got what was coming to her, right?
“What is it?” Jeff said and I noticed I was staring at the mirror.
“Nothing,” I said, but I couldn’t let it go. “See, she made a mistake...and that’s bad, I know...but…”
“I know,” he said. How could I ask for forgiveness for all the crap I had done, if I wasn’t willing to give any back. “You want me to call him?”
I nodded, but there was one more thing I had to do.
“Jeff, I wanted to tell you before I got on the plane...hell, I’ve been meaning to tell you for the longest time-”
“Oops,” Superdynamic said, stopping his car. “Hey, buddy. I’m here and I gotta go-”
“No,” I said. “Wait a second.”
“There’s like fifty people waiting on me.”
“I gotta say this, man. I need to get this out.”
He stared into the camera, giving me a knowing nod. “I know, man.”
“I know you do, but I have to say it: Thank you. Thanks for everything you’ve done for me, everything you’re still doing. I know you’re doing this because of Apogee and all that, and I know that it’s costing you with all the people that have to be mad. I want you to know that I understand all that and that I’m going to do my best in K.C. I’m going to be a model citizen and all that. Okay? I just wanted you to know.”
He was smiling, “Thanks. It means a lot to me. But you’re wrong about one thing. I’m not doing it for her.”
That hit me like a punch in the chest. Lord Mighty never hit me so hard.
“Ah, dammit. I didn’t mean to-” He stopped himself. “Oh, shit!”
I was fighting the urge to drop some man tears, so I didn’t know what he was yelling about. Jeff isn’t the type to curse. Maybe something was going on in the loading bay that I couldn’t see.
“I’m really going to-”
“Dale, Jesus. Look in the mirror a second.”
I didn’t realize it, but for the last bit of our conversation, I’d put the device down and was leanin
g into the phone, which was at hip level on the counter. I looked at myself and saw my mouth drop in the reflection.
My hair was long. Like Fabio long. And white.
“Dude, what the hell,” I whispered.
I looked back at him but he was staring back, blank-faced.
“What’d you do to me? I look like the guitarist from Poison...if he was ninety years-old!”
No, the hair was even longer than those hair metal bands wore. It went back halfway down to my waist, long and straight.
AND WHITE!
“Well, the length is probably because you over applied. One pass, man.”
The phone creaked painfully when I grabbed it. “And you let me!”
“I didn’t notice, okay? We were having this little moment and I forgot to mention it”
I looked back at myself in the mirror.
“I look like an anime character. I’m the villain in a Final Fantasy game!”
He was fighting the urge to laugh and doing a poor job of it.
“And what’s the deal with the color? Wasn’t it supposed to be blond?”
That’s when he broke into laughter.
“I’m glad you find this funny, dude. Can’t wait until I see you again. I’m gonna give you a fucking wedgie.”
He was having a hard time breathing. “It’s my fault,” he said.
“Of course it’s your fault. If it was someone else’s fault, I’d still find a way to blame you.”
“No,” he said, into the coughing fit phase of his laughter. “It’s because. Oh, man. Rico.”
“Ricochet what?”
“Well, I was busy the morning you left, and I asked Ricochet to add the color module.”
I saw my reaction in the tiny viewscreen in the phone conference, and honestly, I scared myself.
“That little shit!”
Superdynamic started laughing again, this time without any pretense.
“I’m going to neuter him,” I said. “Tell him. Tell him the next time I see him, I’m bouncing him off the moon.”
He nodded as if it was going to be anything but a “laugh at Blackjack” session. It was going to make their day. After a few seconds, I couldn’t help but start laughing too. I looked ridiculous, and there was nothing I could do about it. The device was pre-coded. Nanites were embedded deep in the pores of my scalp, and they would make hair cells until it matched their programming. Same with the color. Cutting it wouldn’t help at all, and it was meant to last a month per use.