The Major looks at me, puzzled. Then she smiles. Almost.
‘Uh … yeah. First time I’ve heard it referred to in that way, but I guess you can say that …’
As we near a hatchway that leads below deck, darkness suddenly falls and drops of water hit my head. As I automatically lift my hand to check for rain, I look up to see an enormous wave bearing down on us. Before I can even react, it’s crashed over us and gone, leaving us drenched. Fish flop around us and seawater drips from every surface.
In the middle of the deck crouches a woman, her dark hair hanging in wet curls around her face. She’s wearing an emerald bodysuit with a pair of chrome gauntlets, a silver sword strapped to her back and, as she stands and walks towards us, I see she has bare feet and her skin is covered in markings like henna tattoos.
‘Gaia!’ I exclaim without thinking. ‘Oh my God! You’re Gaia!’
I’ve never met a celebrity before. The best I’ve ever done is spot the morning show weatherman at the local airport. At least, I think it was him. In any case, the feeling of awe that overcomes me is a new one. If my friends could see me now they’d be dying of jealousy. Then I remember with a sharp pain – none of my friends would believe me, even if I could tell them. They think I’ve been booted off to some expensive private military school on a special scholarship. It all happened so quickly I didn’t even get to say goodbye.
‘And you must be Sam,’ Gaia says with a warm smile and a glow in her golden brown eyes. She knows my name! The pain subsides a little. ‘Or should I say Goldrush?’
I look at her, confused. ‘What’s Goldrush?’
‘We haven’t actually discussed that yet,’ says Major Blackthorne to Gaia. ‘But if you wouldn’t mind … we’re standing here wetter than wharf rats.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry!’ Gaia laughs. ‘I’ve been swimming. If I’d known you were on deck I wouldn’t have ridden the wave up onto the ship. Let me help.’
She raises a hand and a small tornado envelopes us, drying us off and throwing the floundering fish back into the ocean. She flicks her wrist and the wind dies. Then she turns to me with a smile. ‘Not exactly a steam press service but it gets the job done.’
‘Wow,’ I murmur. Of course I’ve read about Gaia’s ability to control the elements, but it’s one thing to hear about it and another thing to actually experience it.
I’m patting myself all over, amazed at how dry I am, before I realise that the two superwomen standing in front of me are watching with amusement. I stop.
‘Thanks for the blow-dry, Gaia,’ the Major says. ‘But I need to get Sam off to his fitting.’
‘Well, in that case, goodbye for now, Sam. And remember, the secret induction ceremony is at midnight. We’ll supply the hooded robes, but you’ll have to bring your own goat’s blood.’ Gaia winks, before kissing me on the cheek. ‘Welcome to an … interesting career.’ With that, she walks away, tilting her head back to enjoy the sunshine on her face.
‘Goat’s blood?’ I ask the Major. The spot on my cheek that Gaia kissed is still tingling.
‘She’s joking … not that you can always tell,’ the Major says as we step through the hatchway. ‘This way.’
We walk into the darkness of a hangar packed with fighter jets and helicopters. All of them are branded with a three-point shield that has a ‘V’ running through the centre like a blip on a heart-rate monitor. It’s the emblem of Vanguard Prime.
‘How much do you know about Vanguard Prime?’ the Major asks me as we walk down a flight of metal stairs.
‘I don’t know. That’s kind of like asking how much do you know about the police or the Allied Nations. I know they’re there. I know their names.’
‘Well, why don’t you start there and we’ll see how far you get.’ We reach a doorway and she presses her hand to a security pad. It beeps and slides open to reveal a long white corridor.
‘Hmm. Well, I guess they got together about, what, ten or so years ago? I remember it being on the news when I was a kid. Back then, it was just Agent Alpha, Gaia and the Knight of Wands.’
The Major nods. ‘That’s right.’
‘Agent Alpha was a news reporter, Michael Maleek Khalid, before he got his powers, which happened on live TV. Gaia can’t remember anything from her life before she got her powers about twelve or thirteen years ago. And the Knight … well … nobody knows much about him at all.’
‘Just the way he likes it.’
‘I don’t know a lot about Machina either. She doesn’t seem to have been sent on many missions since it was announced she was joining the team last year. She has something to do with technology, right?’
‘More or less,’ the Major says.
We reach the end of the hallway and the Major uses her handprint again to open the door. We step through into what looks like a central access room with dozens of officers rushing around and disappearing down corridors.
The Major strides through the chaos to a corridor marked ‘L1’. I trail behind.
‘There’s always been something I’ve been unsure about, though,’ I work up the courage to ask.
‘Yes?’
‘Who put together Vanguard Prime? Did they join together themselves, or were they like me?’
‘Like you?’
‘Conscripted.’
The Major glances at me with a raised eyebrow, but lets the comment pass.
‘They came together during the course of a mission. The details of it are classified, but afterwards they decided it’d be a good idea to join forces on a permanent basis and work together to avert any such future threats. They took their idea to the Allied Nations to avoid any international concerns. The Security Coalition offered them full support, including any personnel and equipment needs they may have; they also formed the Neohuman Operations Committee – the NOC as we call it – to oversee the effort. The result is everything you see around you.’
She hits one last security pad and we’re finally at the place that I assume is our destination. It’s a small room, a bit like a doctor’s office, and there are a bunch of people in lab coats inside.
‘So who named it Vanguard Prime? Was it the three of them or …?’
‘Well, my original suggestion was the Alliance,’ a rich voice says. ‘It was the NOC’s feeling, however, that it was too generic and lacking in market appeal.’
I spin around and there he is, dressed in his dark-blue bodysuit, a red ‘A’ glowing on his chest. Agent Alpha. The Agent Alpha!
He shoots me a mega-wattage smile that would make the most famous movie star jealous and holds out his hand. I notice he’s missing one of his red gauntlets. Then I see it behind him, being worked on by one of the guys in the lab coats.
‘Pleased to meet you, Sam. They call me Agent Alpha, but you can call me Michael.’
‘It’s an honour, sir,’ I say, taking his hand.
‘What’s this “sir” stuff? It’s Michael, remember?’ He gives me another big smile, which I can’t help but return.
‘Sorry. Michael. So … they didn’t like your name for the group?’
‘We had a lot of suggestions. The Alliance was only the first. There was also the Pantheon, the Triumvirate, the Crusaders. The Crusaders was shot down for being politically incorrect.’
‘Politically incorrect?’
‘Association with the crusades,’ the Major chimes in. ‘Only about three hundred or so years of religious warfare. Not the most reassuring of associations.’
‘I have to admit, they had a point,’ Agent Alpha says. ‘Though none of that matters now. We arrived at Vanguard Prime. And on behalf of Vanguard Prime, let me be the first to welcome you aboard.’
‘Oh, um, thank you very much, but I …’
‘Gaia already beat you to the punch on that one, Mike,’ the Major says.
‘Well, it’s not the first time she’s upstaged me. And I’m sure it won’t be the last.’
‘Agent Alpha, sir?’ The lab tech holds out the gauntlet. ‘All done.’
‘Thanks very much, Joel. Great job.’ Agent Alpha fixes the gauntlet to his forearm. ‘Dominique – I’m right in thinking that the briefing is at eight?’
‘Twenty hundred hours, that’s correct.’
‘Great.’ Agent Alpha offers me another firm handshake. ‘Good meeting you, Sam. I look forward to working together.’
‘Okay … that was kind of amazing,’ I say to the Major as we watch him leave.
‘Well, let’s see if we can’t wrangle just a little bit more amazement, huh?’ she replies.
She directs my attention to the other side of the room and, as if on cue, two of the lab techs step aside, revealing a costumed mannequin.
The outfit on the mannequin looks kind of like a wetsuit, only made of a stronger, textured fabric. The body of the suit is black with golden highlights that look like slashes of lightning against a night sky. There’s a visor on the mannequin’s face and gold gauntlets strapped to its wrists. A pair of black gloves finish the outfit off. I realise suddenly what I’m looking at.
‘This is my costume, isn’t it?’
‘Well, we call them uniforms or, more technically, V-suits. But that’s right … Goldrush.’
And now it all makes sense.
‘Goldrush,’ I repeat to myself.
‘Do you want to try it on?’ the Major asks.
It takes about half an hour before I’ve fully strapped myself in, which surprises me. Just as surprising is how weirdly comfortable it feels. Except for one thing.
‘Do I have to come out?’ I ask from behind the curtain.
‘That depends on your meaning,’ the Major says, and I can tell from her voice that she’s smiling.
‘Actually, that’s kind of the problem.’
‘What do you mean?’
I pull the curtain back, making a face like someone’s farted.
‘It’s a bit … girly, don’t you think?’
‘Well, it is skin-tight. But that’s how all the superheroes are wearing them this season,’ says the Major.
‘You don’t think the colours are … I mean, I dunno. Did it have to be yellow?’
‘We could hardly call you “Goldrush” if you didn’t have any gold on you, could we?’
I take a few reluctant steps out of the change room and look back at myself in the mirror. I wince at my reflection. At best, it looks like someone’s skinned a Lamborghini and given me the pelt to wear. At worst, I look like I’m going to a disco.
In the Olympic village.
In the ’70s.
I’m sure I hear the lab techs giggling, but when I glance at them they’re stone-faced.
‘Why did it have to be Goldrush? Why not, like, Supersonic or Captain Hyper or something?’
‘These codenames and costumes are rigorously market-tested. There were about a dozen alternatives that the focus groups selected from. They responded to “Goldrush” the most positively. The warm colours seemed both open to them but also fitting with the speed theme, especially given that your force-field aura is also gold. We couldn’t have any blue because that’s Agent Alpha’s predominant colour.’
‘What about red? Red’s fast, right?’
‘Already trademarked by another superhero. Black’s neutral. It highlights the gold. And you are, after all, Goldrush.’
I look in the mirror again. I have to admit, the more she says it, the more I get used to it.
‘Besides, we’ve already spent over a million dollars on this suit alone. We’re not going to change it now,’ the Major adds.
‘A million dollars?’ I say. ‘You’ve got to be kidding me!’
‘Nope. And by the end of the week you’ll have another nine just like it.’
‘Why does it cost a million dollars? You couldn’t just stick me in some spandex? It’d look pretty much the same.’
‘Come over here,’ she says.
I walk towards her, puzzled.
She grabs me by the left hand and pulls my wrist toward her.
‘The suit’s made of graphene, a synthetic material that’s lightweight and ultra-thin but also incredibly strong. The gauntlets are touch activated,’ she says, hitting the surface of my golden wristband with her index finger. It lights up like an iPod screen. ‘We’ll give you a user’s manual, but for now there are only two buttons you need to worry about. This is the On/Off switch and this is the Jump button. The nine suits we make for you will each be set up on mannequins like this one. When you hit the Jump button, whatever clothes you’re wearing at the time will be teleported out and your uniform will be teleported in.’
‘Teleported?’ I say. ‘You guys can do that?’
‘Only after extensive research and a lot of money being spent. And only for lightweight artificial material. But, yeah, we can do that. For now, let’s forget all the armour plating and built-in life-monitoring and CPR devices. We’ll focus on some other aspects of your uniform, including the Heads-Up Display in your visor. Press the left button to activate and cycle through the different lenses.’
I follow her advice and suddenly I’m getting computer read-outs telling me I’m seeing in thermal vision, night vision, telescopic vision. When I look at the Major, the display instantly identifies her and starts reeling off all the information it has on her.
‘I didn’t know your middle name was Jade.’
She reaches out and switches off the vision display. ‘Finally, you have your sub-vox communication set-up.’
‘My what?’
She holds up two microscopic dots on the tips of her fingers.
‘Lean your head to the left.’
She fixes the first dot inside my ear, before tilting my head the other way and inserting the second dot. Once they’re in place, I look in the mirror. I can’t see them and I can’t feel them. It’s impossible to tell they’re even in there.
‘The dots are miniaturised speakers. You have five sensors inside your collar picking up the vibrations of your vocal chords. Sub-vox is short for sub-vocal communication. Basically, it’s talking without speaking. Think about what you want to say. Let the words linger in your throat, but don’t speak them. The sensors in the collar will pick up the tremors and transmit them to the speakers.’
‘Oooo-kay,’ I say, doing my best to follow her. I clear my mind and, for some reason, close my eyes. I concentrate on what I want to say, just a simple word.
‘Test,’ I say, without opening my mouth. Feedback floods my ears.
‘That was an eleven,’ the Major says, wincing. ‘I need you to dial it back to about a five. Don’t mumble. Don’t make any noise at all. It’s not speaking without opening your mouth. It’s one or even two steps before speaking.’
I nod my head, and try again.
‘Test,’ I say. And my voice plays through both our ears as a ghostly replication of itself. ‘Test.’
‘Very good,’ the Major replies. Her lips are closed, and her voice in my head makes me feel psychic.
‘Wow! If this is what it can do …’ I finish the sentence aloud. ‘… it makes sense it’d cost a lot. In fact, I’d say for a million dollars you got a pretty good bargain. Unless there’s something else you need to show me. I’m starting to feel like I’m Bond, you’re Q and I’m about to be given an Aston Martin that can transform into a submarine.’
‘Well, Mr Bond, I think that’ll do for now. You feel comfortable with everything? Got a handle on it?’
‘Oh, yeah. Sure. Definitely. Sub-vox, got that. Visor …’ I click my left lens a number of times, cycling through the different sets of vision. ‘Good stuff! And then there’s the gauntlet. This is the Off button, and this is the Jump button,’ I say, tapping the gauntlet.
‘No, Sam! Don’t!’ the Major cries, but it’s too late. There’s a tingling all over my body followed by a flash of light, and before I know it I’m standing in the middle of the lab – in front of the Major and every single one of the technicians – completely naked.
‘Aggghhh! Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!’ I�
�m back behind the curtain so fast that every piece of loose paper in the room is scattered by the whirlwind of motion, my golden aura lighting up the faces of all the people staring at me. ‘What happened? You said it would change my clothes!’
‘Only when we have another outfit set up on the mannequin to swap it with, Sam!’ the Major says, before breaking into hysterical laughter. This time, when I peek out, all the lab techs aren’t giggling. They’re roaring.
After the whole naked incident I try to regain some dignity by putting my clothes back on, but the Major insists I stay in my new uniform.
‘You don’t see anyone else onboard in their civilian clothes, do you?’ she says.
‘I don’t see many other people onboard wearing skintight suits, either.’
‘Except Agent Alpha.’
‘Except Agent Alpha.’
‘And Gaia.’
‘And Gaia.’
‘And when you meet them, the Knight of Wands and Machina as well.’
‘Okay, okay, I get the point.’
‘Good boy,’ she says, smiling. ‘Oh, and one other thing. Besides the members of Vanguard Prime, we’re going to have to stop introducing you as Sam. You’re Goldrush now, remember?’
‘To protect my friends and loved ones from the threat that my supervillain enemies would pose, right?’
‘There’s no getting anything past you, is there?’
So I head out of the lab in my full Goldrush costume. Despite the fact that my visor is tinted, my vision is crystal clear. In fact, I’ve been told that the visor gives me better than 20/20 vision.
What I really focus on, however, is how handy it is to have information come up as you’re walking around looking at things. I know complete stranger’s names, I know the makes and models of all the vehicles we pass, and I know exactly where we are in the ship. The only thing I don’t know is where we’re going.
‘These,’ the Major says, ‘are your quarters.’
The door slides open and I’m met with white walls, metal floors, some modest furniture and a cot with a thin foam mattress. The only points of interest are the small porthole window and my bags stacked up in the corner.
‘I understand it’s no doubt a change from your room back home. That’s why we’re happy to forgo military protocol and allow you to decorate the room as you see fit,’ the Major says. My expression is obviously a bit more despairing than I realise. ‘If you want anything in the way of posters or decorative items, we have some folders available with options that can be ordered for you.’
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