Life Light

by R. J. Ross

  “Maybe a little one--but no time traveling. Get a mad scientist to make it for you,” he says before flying away.

  “YES!” Skye says, jumping up and down, only to stop. “No, can’t do it. I’ve had one too many run-ins with mad scientists. You know what? We don’t need no stinkin’ mad scientists! You and me, Liz--we can do it just fine! We just need to dig up all the bones and hook it up to wires and we’ll resurrect one with your electricity!”

  “A skeleton dinosaur?” Liz asks.

  “Every super villain should have one.”

  Liz stares at her for a long, long moment. “Sure, why not? But I want it to be a triceratops." As much as she wants to race in with lightning blazing, Nico is already on it—and she gets the feeling that Skye DEFINITELY needs kept out of whatever is going on.

  “Sounds good to me!”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  We’re getting a lot of stares, I notice. I don’t think the cops are used to having super heroes walk in. I look around, seeing another cop leading the four teenage boys in. They don’t look nearly as calm as my group does. Of course, my expression is a complete facade--I am really worried right now. I reach over, taking Alyssa’s hand. It says a lot when she grabs onto my hand like a lifeline. Carla steps forward, grabbing my other hand tightly. I look at her, wondering if staying with us might have been the scariest thing she’s ever done in her life. The threat of being stuck in a cell makes me feel sick to my stomach, as well.

  “Your boss is already here,” the officer says. “It’s actually a pleasure to meet you,” he adds more quietly, holding out his hand to Trent. “I’m Gary Isaac.”

  “Thank you for all your hard work, Officer Isaac. On behalf of the Hall, my family, and Cape High, I want to tell you how much we all appreciate what you do,” Trent says. The funniest part is that he honestly sounds earnest. Here we are, getting dragged in for questioning, and he’s complimenting the cop doing it.

  “I--um, thank you,” Officer Isaac says. “The feeling is mutual.”

  We head in, seeing Double M chatting pleasantly with the Chief of Police. They’re even laughing, I realize. Wow, he’s good. He stands, nodding at Trent, and then me, and heading straight for Alyssa with his hand out. “Alyssa,” he says with a wide smile. “What a pleasure to meet you--I didn’t expect to get the chance until you returned.”

  She blushes brightly, looking stunned, and almost forgets to accept the hand that's offered. “Mastermental,” she says. “I didn’t think I’d meet someone as famous as you--like, ever.”

  “My dear, you’ve already met a few of the men that I admire greatly,” he goes on. “Speaking of which, how is your grandfather doing, Aubrey?” he asks me. “It surprised me when he offered his assistance, he’s a very busy man.”

  Andre, not Superior, then. “Ah, well, that was sort of my fault,” I admit. “I told him he needs to get out more.”

  “He seems to value your advice a lot,” Double M says. “Now, why don’t we hear this story of yours?” he says, looking around the room, and abruptly walks over to Carla. “Actually, if you would give us a second, Chief Duxton,” he says over his shoulder. It must look strange to the norms, I think as he singles out a “lackey” and pulls her into a hug. “You see, these are our precious children, here,” he says mildly. “This mission is many of their first or second time on the field.” There’s something going on, I realize as Carla starts giggling her head off. He just told her something telepathically.

  “You can’t do that!” she whispers, still giggling.

  “I assure you, my dear, I can, and I would,” he tells her silently, giving her a grin before turning back to the Chief. “While they might be dressed as assistants, each one of them has a very promising career in front of them.”

  “I agree completely,” Trent says. “A career that will be on your side, Chief--which is why we need to start from the beginning--with your story, Alyssa,” he says, looking over at Alyssa.

  “All of it?”

  “We can trust the Chief,” Double M tells her, “he’s a very good man.”

  “Well... I’m a healer,” Alyssa says, sitting down in the chair that Double M offers. “I’m a--see, what happens is that I take whatever is wrong with somebody and it goes into me, so if they’ve got a broken wrist, they touch me and their wrist is healed, but mine’s broken. And that’s my brother, right there, right? Well him and his buddies are big-shot football players, and they were using me to--to fix all their problems from football.” There’s a stark look on her face, as if she’s using all of her courage to say this.

  “I see,” the Chief says, looking at the boys.

  “She can prove it, if you want,” I say. “Alyssa, would you be willing to prove it to him?”

  “Yeah--yeah, I can do that,” Alyssa says, looking a bit shocked.

  “We’ve fixed her own healing rate,” I say, “before I got to her, she would take a day to heal.”

  “How long will it take now?” Alyssa asks me, holding her hand out over the desk.

  “A few minutes at most,” I promise.

  “I--I don’t know what to say,” the Chief says, staring at her offered hand. He looks stunned. “I’m a diabetic,” he admits, “can you heal it?”

  “If I can’t, she can,” she says, pointing at me.

  “This is bull!” one of the four boys yells, starting forward. “It’s all a lie--she’s not a healer--we didn’t--”

  Alyssa takes the Chief’s hand. We all see an ugly white cloud appear around the Chief, floating there for a second before it goes to her. Even the Chief can see it, by the look on his face. When she lets go, he pulls open a desk drawer, bringing out a diabetic monitor. He quickly checks his blood sugar level. “It’s perfect,” he says. “It’s always a little high at this time of day--but it’s perfect.”

  “Go to your doctor,” I suggest, “have them do all the blood tests. You’ll see that she’s healed more than just you diabetes.”

  “Can you check him?” Alyssa asks me.

  “If you want me to,” I say, “but you did your job properly.” Her brother and his friends are staring at us with barely hidden rage.

  “It’s a fake-out--she’s lying! They’re using illusions or something to make you think she’s a healer, just so they can get away with slashing my tires!”

  “We are NOT!” Carla says, stepping in front of Alyssa’s brother. “The only illusionist heroes--well, one’s a villain, I guess--but they’re Blackjack and Dragon! Neither of them is here--and Alyssa IS a healer!”

  “Yeah, the only reason you came today was to replace me with that poor kid from that school!” Alyssa says. “They were going to kidnap a healer like me and force him to help them win Nationals! We had to go there and save him from them!”

  “I see,” Chief Duxton says. “We’re going to have to call your parents, boys, and tell them what you’ve been up to. I’d like to thank you for your concern, but--” he says, standing, “this doesn’t change the fact that there was no arrangement made beforehand, and you WERE on what's considered private property--school property. Just as you said, Mastermental, these are our precious children. We have a right to protect them from dangerous situations. You’ll understand when I say we’re going to have to ask you not to try this again.”

  “No--” I whisper.

  “I appreciate what you do, I really do, but there is a time and a place for supers,” Chief Duxton says, “a peaceful school is not one of them.”

  “You can’t do that,” Alyssa bursts out. “We need to talk to him--we need to help that healer! It’s too dangerous for him to--”

  “That is something he and his parents need to decide, not you,” Chief Duxton says.

  “What if he’s going through the same sort of stuff I went through?” Alyssa demands. “Will you just stand by and let it happen? It’s bullying--it’s worse than bullying, it’s abuse! We can’t let it keep happening!”

  “We can’t let supers just barge in, thinking they’re
saving people that aren’t experiencing that trouble, either,” he says firmly. “This is a situation that needs treated more delicately than supers are capable of. While I understand where you’re coming from, I must ask that you cease and desist. Let us norms take care of our own.”

  “But they AREN’T norms!” I say.

  “They are until they’re ready to declare themselves--that’s your own rule, isn’t it?” he says, looking at Double M.

  “You are correct, sir. I agree that this was handled inappropriately,” he says, nodding. “We should apologize to the school, don’t you agree, Kid Liberty?”

  “Absolutely,” Trent says.

  “It's only appropriate that we make a brief visit to speak with the school body,” Double M goes on. “Don't you agree, Chief Duxton?”

  The look on Chief Duxton’s face says he knows exactly what Double M is doing--and hates to admit that it’ll work. He sighs and reaches for the phone. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “We appreciate it,” Double M says.

  I find myself looking at Alyssa’s brother. There’s a look on his face that’s a mix of guilt and hatred--it’s aimed straight at her. When he notices I’m looking at him, though, he turns it on me. “This is all your fault,” he says.

  “No,” I say, my hands clenching at my sides, “it’s yours.”

  ***

  “Mastermental promised me something while we were in there,” Carla says as we walk out of the police station. She’s got a positively wicked grin on her face. It widens as she sees Nico standing outside, waiting for us. Instantly she runs over. “Hi Nico! Did you see any polar bears up there?”

  “What did Mastermental promise?” Keliah asks as we join them, stopping Nico from replying.

  “He promised me that if they tried to put one of us in prison, he’d go straight to the president--and if that didn’t work, he’d brainwash the entire country into thinking HE was the president long enough to get us pardoned.”

  “He wouldn’t do that--he COULDN’T do that!” Keliah says, but then she frowns thoughtfully. “Could he?”

  “It’s possible,” Nico says. “Personally I would start on a smaller scale and send Ace in just long enough to pull it off, probably as the mayor. Once we had the pardon, we would switch you out to a different branch long enough for people to forget about it--if you liked it, we’d leave you there, if you didn’t, we’d move you to a different one. Even the norms would thank us. Can you imagine a super in norm prison? He, or she, would rule the joint. Not to mention anyone over a D-class would be able to walk out at will.”

  “You’ve put way too much thought into this,” I have to point out.

  “Really?” Keliah asks.

  “Do you think metal poles could keep you in?” he asks.

  “I don’t think so, but I’ve never really tried.”

  “We’ll let you try sometime.”

  “You’re going to teach her how to break out of norm prison,” I say, dryly.

  “That’s--that’s SO AWESOME, can I do it too?” Carla asks eagerly, her eyes huge.

  “We’ll make it a group class, if you want,” Nico says.

  “Can we get going? We’re supposed to go speak to the private school--to apologize.” I pause, glancing at Alyssa. “Speaking of apologies, we’re sorry for stealing your watch, Nico,” I say, giving her a sharp look when she doesn’t agree quickly enough. “Aren’t we, Alyssa?”

  “Yeah, I guess,” she says.

  “Truthfully, you don’t need to worry about norm prisons at all,” Nico goes on, ignoring our apology (he's stuck on the prison conversation,) “because there’s an agreement between the Hall and the norm government--we deal with our own law-breakers. That’s why we have the Cape Cells.”

  “But it’s also why he’s right about us bursting in and trying to get the healers,” I say as it clicks. “Until a super declares himself or herself AS a super, they’re under norm rule--and norm protection, aren’t they?”

  “They are,” Mastermental says as he and Trent join us, “which is why the plan was merely to get them to where they can talk to you and their local Hall. Once they have, they’ll be free to decide whatever they want.”

  “Then why were we sent in?” I demand. “Why didn’t we just send black suits--”

  “Because you have more of an impact than black suits, but less authority than an adult hero or villain,” Nico says. “We’re using you for the shock or awe value, depending on the person. Well, not you and Alyssa, but Trent and the others,” he says. “We’re using you two as a common point. When they see you working with us, they might be more open to joining. This was never about forcing them, but the norms might not understand.”

  “If things get worse, we'll discuss using the black suits,” Mastermental says. “But for now, you have a school to visit.”

  “Hey, Mastermental,” Carla says, poking him, “you wouldn’t have to do any of that because YOU’RE the guy that would arrest me, aren’t you,” she says, giving him her most “I see what you did there” look.

  Double M starts to laugh. “Of course I wouldn’t--but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t be willing to,” he tells her. “I’ve always wondered how much I could change with just one day. It sounds quite entertaining.”

  “You would use me as an excuse!” Carla says. “Shame on you, Mister Hall leader!” she adds, waving a finger at him.

  “I was a super villain for a year or two, you know,” Double M tells her, still grinning widely. He reminds me so much of Max right now that it’s astonishing. “Of course it would have to be something drastic enough that people will understand my motives, but there is always that chance.”

  “I doubt it,” Nico drawls. He looks at us and walks over, holding his hand out to Alyssa. “Watch, please.”

  She unstraps it a bit sadly and hands it over. For a second he taps on the screen, and then he says, “Everyone grab on, we’re going to make a dramatic entrance.”

  We grab onto him, and find ourselves standing right in front of the school building--with every student in the school out on the yard. Nico looks over at Trent, nodding to the teenagers in front of us.

  “Shouldn’t Double M start us off?” Trent asks silently.

  Nico looks around. Double M is nowhere to be seen. “He didn’t come along--it’s all yours, kiddo.”

  Trent nods and steps forward. “Hello, Berker High!” he says, loud enough that he doesn’t need a mic. He’s floating a few feet off the ground, so everyone can see him. Suddenly every kid in the crowd goes silent, watching us a bit too closely. “I’m Kid Liberty, and I’d like to thank you for allowing us to speak today.”

  My eyes scan the crowd, searching for the boy I’d seen in the window. Is he here? Is he inside, hiding somewhere? Can I blame him if he is? No, I can’t. I can’t find him, either--the crowd is too dense. There’s somewhere around two to three hundred teenagers packed together for this.

  “We want to apologize for the little scene this morning,” Trent goes on, earnestly. “We didn’t mean to cause you to worry--our job as super heroes is to make you feel secure. We, of all the heroes, understand exactly how stressful high school can be, even without supers running around causing property damage,” he adds dryly.

  Part of the crowd laughs, the other part just watches us with curious expressions. I hear a few tiny clicks of phones taking pictures and pull further back into the hood of my snowsuit. It’s getting a bit warm in this--where was that button... I bring up my left arm and tap on the hidden panel that Kim told me about, changing the temperature. I reach over, picking up Alyssa’s arm to repeat the process, not bothering to explain why. Okay, so I’m a bit mothering--it’s not a bad thing!

  “What we’ve really come to do,” Trent goes on, “is to talk about hidden supers.” I jerk, staring at him in shock as he floats higher. “There’s a chance in every school, really, that there are people with special abilities--people that are different. Actually, who here would like to hear my story?”
he asks.

  There’s a resounding roar from the crowd. He lets them cheer for a moment, smiling slightly. “Is that a yes?” he asks. They roar again, louder this time. “I go to a private school, too,” he says, grinning. “In fact, the people behind me are all students there--you’re looking at future super heroes right now, everyone. One day you’ll get to see their faces on the news complete with their own uniforms and fan clubs. Pretty cool, huh? But I wasn’t always a Cape High student. For most of my life, I was in a normal school. I couldn’t join any of the sports teams, because people would notice that I don't go down—no matter how many people tackle me. And if I tackle someone else, I could really hurt them. I had to skip gym class, unless all they were doing was running around the gym. I had a slip from my doctor that got so much use I had to laminate it,” he says dryly. “Guys started to make fun of me, thinking I was ‘delicate.’ If they picked on me, or bullied me, all I could do was just take it.”

  The crowd is silent, watching him with serious looks, some nodding. Even the teachers are listening intently. “You all know who my parents are, right? Maybe if I mention their names, it’ll ring a few bells,” he says teasingly. “My dad goes by the ridiculous name America’s Son. My mom goes by--shout if you recognize it--Star Spangled.” They roar so loud that I put my hands over my ears to block it out. “And here I was, considered too ‘delicate’ to take the standard health and fitness exams--that is seriously embarrassing. It isn’t easy being different, guys. For some supers, it can even be scary.”

  The group is quiet, and I see them looking at each other with curious expressions. “What I’m saying,” Trent says as he floats over their heads, “is that sometimes the strange kid, or the one that you look down on, or the one that keeps to himself might just be a super in disguise. Don’t ask them, though, because it’s their secret to keep. Really, though, do you WANT to find out if they don't want you to know?"

  “Like Dragon!” Carla says. Suddenly everyone looks extremely curious.