The Superhero's Summit (The Superhero's Son Book 3)

by Lucas Flint

Mecha Knight's helmet showed no facial expressions whatsoever, but I thought that Mecha Knight was thinking about what I just said, and not in a good way, either.

  “Very interesting,” said Mecha Knight. “I will bring this up with Omega Man and the rest of the Leadership Council at our meeting later today. They will want to know about this.”

  I nodded. “But what do you think about it? Do you think it would be a good idea?”

  “My thoughts on this are irrelevant,” said Mecha Knight, the tone in his voice flat. “But I noticed that you do not seem entirely excited about it yourself.”

  I folded my hands behind my back, but I was unsure what to say. “Well, it's just—”

  “I don't care why,” Mecha Knight interrupted me. “It was merely an observation, that is all. Is there anything else you need to report to me?”

  “No, sir,” I said, shaking my head. “That's all you need to know. Everyone on the team made it back alive and in one piece, if a bit dinged in a few places.”

  “Good to hear,” said Mecha Knight. “If you need anything or have any more news to share, feel free to call me. I will contact you again in the morning with your assignments for the rest of the week. Good bye.”

  With that, the screen went blank. Then my shoulders slumped and I sighed.

  I liked Mecha Knight. Or at least respected him. He was strong and no-nonsense and rarely seemed disturbed by anything. It was kind of weird how he never took off his armor, not even removing his helmet to show his face, but there was a reason he was a famous neohero in his own right and the supervisor of the Young Neos, and it was due to his experience and success as a hero in his own right.

  But he wasn't Dad. He was never interested in hearing about my problems or talking to me about how I felt. I hated touchy-feely talk, don't get me wrong, but even I needed someone to talk to about my problems every now and then. And Dad—although he acted like a robot sometimes—really did care about me and my problems. So did Mom, but Dad was a superhero himself and so understood what I was going through better than she did.

  Speaking of Dad, I hadn't talked to him today. So I walked over to my bed, sat down in it, and then dialed Dad's number on my suit-up watch's surface.

  One second later, Dad's face appeared on the watch's small screen. He was not wearing his Genius costume, which made sense, seeing as he was technically retired, but I kind of wished he would because I thought that the Genius helmet was pretty awesome.

  “Kevin?” said Dad. “I was wondering when you'd call me up for our daily chat. How have things been in New York?”

  “Okay,” I said. “Did you hear about our fight with Enor?”

  “I saw an article about it online,” said Dad. “It said you had help from the New Heroes. They are the young superhero team for the INJ, yes?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. Have you heard of them before?”

  “Oh, sure,” said Dad. “When I was still an active superhero, I met the first incarnation of the New Heroes shortly after the formation of the INJ. Very different from the Young Neos, they were, but they seemed like a good set of kids and many of them went on to play larger roles in the INJ, such as Switchblade.”

  “I know,” I said, frowning when I thought about how easily the New Heroes had beaten Enor. “I talked to their leader, a guy named Strike. He said he wanted to form an alliance between the Young Neos and the New Heroes, but it won't be finalized until the Neohero Summit next month, assuming that the NHA accepts it.”

  “An alliance?” said Dad. He furrowed his brow in worry. “Odd.”

  “What's so odd about it?” I said.

  “The Neohero Alliance and the Independent Neoheroes for Justice have never really worked together,” said Dad. “Granted, we did work together to push back the Pokacu invasion twelve years ago, but that was only a temporary alliance and we went back to our normal relations after that.”

  “Yeah, it is weird,” I said. “But Strike said that he thinks we would make a great team if we worked together.”

  “That may be true, but it is still odd,” said Dad. He stroked his chin and his sight seemed to become distant, like he was lost in his memories. “I wonder if the Midnight Menace approved of this.”

  “He must have,” I said. “Strike said that the INJ leadership was okay with it.”

  “Yes, but it doesn't seem like the Midnight Menace's usual modus operandi,” said Dad. “I knew the Midnight Menace, both before and after he quit the NHA and formed the INJ. He was quite clear about burning bridges with us and only grudgingly worked with us when the Pokacu attacked because he couldn't deal with the problem on his own.”

  “You mean you know the Midnight Menace, too?” I said. “You seem to know everyone, Dad.”

  “Oh, I didn't tell you that?” said Dad. “I actually recruited the Midnight Menace into the NHA.” He sighed. “Not that he was ever a very good member, mind you, but if I hadn't invited him, he would never have joined the organization.”

  “Really?” I said. “Now that I think about it, what is the history behind the NHA and the INJ, anyway? You were active when the INJ was formed, weren't you?”

  “Yes,” said Dad, though he didn't sound very pleased about it. “Long story short, there was a lot of disagreement over how the NHA should relate to the US government. The Midnight Menace was on what we might call the, ah, libertarian side of the issue and left the organization after we voted for a decision he didn't agree with. He, along with a few other dissenters, formed the INJ not long after.”

  “What do you mean by 'libertarian'?” I said.

  Dad waved off my question. “Ah, it doesn't matter. What's past is past. That was a long time ago, well before you were born, and pretty much irrelevant now. Don't worry about it.”

  “Okay,” I said, though secretly I made a mental note to do some research on the history between the two organizations later, because I was curious about the subject and thought I should know more about it. “So will you be coming to the Neohero Summit at the end of the month?”

  “I doubt it,” said Dad. “I'm retired, remember? And anyway, that's going to be the anniversary of me and your mom's wedding. I promised I'd take your mom out to dinner, plus I have a gift for her that I want to give her on that day. Your mom wouldn't be very happy if I spent our anniversary away from her in New York.”

  “Oh, right,” I said. “Well, are you sure that you can't make it for at least a couple of days? I mean, the Summit is supposed to be a three day long event.”

  “No, I'm fine,” said Dad. “My superhero days are behind me. You can tell me about it later after it's over.”

  I knew that Dad was going to say that, but I was still disappointed nonetheless because I had hoped that I would get to see Dad again sometime soon. “Okay.” Then I hesitated. “How are Malcolm and Tara?”

  “You mean your friends from school?” said Dad. He frowned. “Haven't you been keeping in touch with them since you went to Hero Island?”

  Truthfully, I hadn't. When I went to New York to lead the Young Neos, that meant that I had had to leave John Smith High School back in Texas. Both Malcolm Rayner and Tara Reynolds, my only two friends from that school, had my phone number, but I hadn't had a chance to speak with either of them. Malcolm knew that I had gone to New York to lead the Young Neos, but Tara—who knew nothing about my superhero identity—thought that I had just gone to some private boarding school in New York.

  Regardless, I hadn't spoken to either of them at all since I got here. Nor had they tried to call me, at least as far as I knew. Still, I felt guilty about it, especially since I had told Malcolm that I would call him as soon as I got to Hero Island, but had forgotten to do so when I arrived.

  “No,” I said, feeling embarrassed. “I haven't.”

  “Well, I haven't, either, because neither of them know me enough to make any interaction between us appear natural,” said Dad. “But I'm sure they're fine.

  “I hope you're right,” I said. I yawned. “All right, Dad, I'm
getting hungry. I'm going to go grab some dinner and get some training in before bed.”

  “All right,” said Dad. “Sounds like a great idea. Your mom is cooking dinner tonight, by the way, and she's making some of her great mashed potatoes.”

  “Really?” I said. “Man, I wish I could be there to have some. Can you teleport me a bowl later?”

  “Kevin,” said Dad, looking at me in disapproval. “My teleportation technology is not meant to be used for such trivial matters as teleporting your mom's cooking to you.”

  “Are you saying that Mom's cooking is trivial?” I said.

  “What? No,” said Dad. “I—”

  Dad was interrupted when I heard an angry voice speaking off-screen that sounded like Mom's voice. Dad's expression quickly turned to alarm and he looked at me and said, “Uh oh. Your mother heard 'trivial' and 'her cooking' in the same sentence. Looks like I need to do some damaged control. Talk to you tomorrow.”

  I nodded, but before I could say anything else, the screen on my watch went blank.

  Lowering my suit-up watch to my side, I considered calling Malcolm and Tara. I had their numbers in my watch. It would be incredibly easy to just go to my contacts and press their numbers. I could be talking to both of them right now, though of course not at once.

  But I hesitated. Would they be angry with me if I contacted them now, a few weeks after I said I would contact them? I knew them both pretty well, but at the same time, I could see them getting angry at me for not talking to them.

  I decided to take a shower instead, because I was dirty and greasy from the fight with Enor. After I took a shower, I'd call them … after, of course, I ate dinner, so maybe I'd try to call them then.

  Chapter Four

  In the morning, I got up before anyone else. I always did, because as the leader I had several duties to do and I couldn't just sleep in, not even on weekends, unless I wanted to mess everything up.

  But not today. Today, my tutor—a middle-aged guy named Mr. White—was sick and wouldn't be able to help me with my lessons, so I was given the day off from them. Granted, I still had other things to do, but I had some time before breakfast, so I went to the Training Room to get some practice in.

  The Training Room was basically where the other Young Neos and I could practice our skills and powers, both individually and as a team. It was equipped with all sorts of different things, ranging from holograms for target practice and fighting robots for combat training. The environment could also be changed if you wanted to train in different environments, such as raising or lowering the Room's temperature or even creating artificial rain. Not only that, but the Room had been designed to handle even the strongest of Young Neos (I had heard rumors that it had been tested by Omega Man himself), so you never had to worry about actually destroying it or causing any heavy or permanent damage. More than once I'd gone all out in there while training and left maybe a few dents in the walls. It was why I liked it so much; here I didn't have to worry about accidentally breaking or damaging anything.

  I didn't expect anyone else to be there this morning, but to my surprise, when I walked up to the door to the Training Room, I saw the words 'TRAINING SESSION ACTIVE' in glowing green letters at the top of the door. That meant that someone was already in there, but who could it be?

  I opened the door, which slid aside like something from out of Star Trek, and entered to find myself standing in the middle of a blizzard.

  Seriously, I could barely see anything. Snow flew around everywhere, so thick that I couldn't even see my own fingers. The temperature felt like it was subzero, though my suit managed to keep my body temperature at a reasonable level, but my chin and lips got cold due to being exposed. The wind was raging, too, and in the confined space of the Training Room it was even louder than normal.

  I was sure this was some kind of weird hallucination until I heard a familiar voice shout, “Oh, Bolt! I'm so sorry. Hold on a minute.”

  Immediately, the blizzard stopped, although the floor was still covered in at least an inch of thick snow and the walls and ceiling were covered in a glistening sheet of ice. Still, the wind was gone and the snow wasn't assaulting me, although my goggles were somewhat obscured by it.

  Wiping the snow off my goggles, I looked and saw a couple of our training robots completely frozen. One them was standing up, raising a giant fist, while the other had fallen on its hands and knees. Their eyes were glowing from within the ice, which meant that they were still active, but it seemed like they were not going to be fighting again until maybe the spring.

  Standing before the robots was Blizzard. As usual, she wore her hood over her head, but unlike everything else in the Room, I did not see even one snowflake on her body. It was like she hadn't been standing in the middle of a raging snowstorm just a few seconds ago.

  “Blizzard?” I said. “What are you doing up this early? Were you training?”

  Blizzard lowered her hands and didn't meet my eyes. “Well, uh, yes. I was just … just wanted to get some training in before the start of the day. After what happened yesterday … well, you know.”

  I nodded. “It wasn't really your fault, you know. You just—”

  “I just lost control of my powers,” said Blizzard. Her tone was surprisingly bitter. “I don't know why. You never do. Nor do any of the others.”

  “Maybe you just need to practice,” I said. “I mean, all of us do. There's no reason to beat yourself up over it.”

  “I know,” said Blizzard. She still didn't look at me. “That's why I'm here. But … I don't know, it doesn't seem to be working.”

  “What do you mean?” I said. I gestured at the robots. “You froze those robots you were training against.”

  “I was trying to freeze them without causing a snowstorm,” said Blizzard. “Or freeze the walls and ceiling, for that matter.”

  “Oh,” I said. I glanced at the snow. “Well, that's what the Training Room is for. You can do whatever you want in here and don't have to worry about causing any damage or not getting the results that you want right away.”

  “Right,” said Blizzard, though she didn't sound like she believed me.

  So I said, “Why don't we train together? I don't have ice powers myself, but maybe you need a training partner in order to gain better control over your powers. How does that sound?”

  Blizzard just shrugged, but said, “I guess we can try that. But doesn't the cold bother you?”

  I shook my head and patted my suit. “Nah. My suit keeps me warm. I'll be fine.”

  Blizzard didn't look entirely convinced by that, but she didn't object. She just said, “Do you want me to unfreeze the robots, then, so we can train against them?”

  “Sure,” I said. “I like sparring with our bots, so let them out.”

  Blizzard nodded and turned toward the robots. She raised her hands and they glowed as white a snow for a moment. A second later, the robots gradually started unfreezing, until soon they were back to normal. The two robots immediately stood upright, defaulting to their normal pose, before I said, “Okay, guys, hit us with your best shot!”

  The training bots did not say anything, but they did immediately start moving. The first one brought its fist down on Blizzard, who jumped to the side to avoid being squashed.

  The second robot, on the other hand, ran at me with its fist swinging. I launched into the air at the last minute, causing its fists to miss me. I kicked the robot in the head, sending it staggering backwards before it recovered and came at me again, but this time I caught its fist and shoved it backwards.

  The robot staggered across the snow and actually fell on its behind, which gave me another opening. I dashed toward it and punched it in the face hard before it could get back up. That blow knocked it flat on its back in the snow and it did not get back up.

  Smiling at my quick victory, I looked over to see Blizzard was still fighting her robot. She seemed to be having trouble against it, though, because instead of fighting it head on like me,
she was gliding across the snow and dodging its attacks. I realized that she was probably still too afraid to use her powers, so I shouted, “Don't be afraid, Blizz! Just freeze him!”

  Blizzard jumped backwards out of the robot's reach and shouted back at me, “Are you sure? Because I can't guarantee I'll control it!”

  “Just do it!” I shouted. “You'll be fine.”

  Blizzard looked doubtful, but she turned her attention to the robot and raised her hands. Her hands glowed white once more and ice started crawling up the robot's legs. I looked around, but did not see the snow flying or hear the wind blowing.

  “All right,” I said, giving her the thumbs up. “Good job. Looks like you're doing great!”

  Unfortunately, I spoke too soon, because the robot, despite the ice crawling up its body, was still moving. It swung its fists at Blizzard, striking her in the abdomen and knocking her off her feet. She landed on her back and her hands stopped glowing. She looked stunned, but I didn't think she was that badly hurt.

  In any case, the training robots were designed to go easy whenever one of us was knocked down. Since they were just supposed to be training robots and not actual enemies, they were not supposed to kill us.

  That was why I was surprised when I saw the robot raising its fists to bring them down on the obviously unconscious Blizzard. It looked like it was about to kill her, so I flew over to stop it before it could squish her.

  Just as the robot brought its fists down on Blizzard, I zoomed over and caught them before they could crush her. The fists came down hard, but in comparison to Enor, I had little trouble holding them back.

  “Hey!” I said, gritting my teeth as I pushed back against the robot. “Blizzard is unconscious. Stand down.”

  The training robots were programmed to obey our voices, especially when we told them to stop fighting, but this one didn't. It just kept increasing its pressure on me, trying to smash me with Blizzard. I didn't understand why it wasn't giving up, but I didn't need to. All I needed to do was take it down.

  So I flew up, forcing its arms up until I took the robot off the floor. The robot's limbs flailed about as I carried it upwards before I hurled it onto the snow below.