“Down is much easier than up,” Ana Maria’s said as the submarine’s ventral hull made contact with the river. “It’s massive.”
“Size matters not,” Blue Spekter said, imitating Master Yoda from The Empire Strikes Back.
“Perhaps,” she replied.
“If Magneto could move a football stadium or the Golden Gate Bridge, and Victor could lift a freaking submarine at this stage of his power development, there’s no telling what Blake could have done, or what Victor will be able to do.”
“Mhmm.”
“Besides, this should be easy-peasy for you, given how long you’ve had your powers.”
“Maybe, but to be honest I haven’t practiced moving objects this big before. People would notice something as big as a warship magically flying through the air.”
“True.”
The navy tugboats moved into position as Ana Maria finished lowering the submarine into the river. Crewmen jumped across and wrestled mooring or tow cables into place while a few officers poked their heads out of the hatches with expressions of relief on their faces. They pointed and waved at the glowing super heroes. On the island, he watched military personnel return to the prison and the nearby buildings.
“We did it,” he said. “We stopped Victor.”
“This time,” Ana Maria responded. She held the Thunderchild in place against the river current until the tugboats finished hooking up to it.
People on the Memorial Bridge and gawkers in Prescott Park cheered and waved as the tugboats’ engines revved up and crewmen waved at them. Since it was their first time seeing her, many people pointed with surprise and chattered about the glowing pink superhero with Blue Spekter who helped him avert disaster.
Ana Maria released the submarine from her telekinetic grasp and exhaled. “We’re finished here. Let’s go check in with Agent Hartman.”
❖
Quinn and Ana Maria walked into operations, where the teams had recently resumed positions at their workstations. Lieutenant Doral had joined them, and they stopped talking when they noticed the super duo walking toward them.
“Something wrong?” Quinn asked.
Doral shrugged and jerked a thumb at Hartman.
“Only the most insane public relations nightmare of my life, that’s all. Oh, and let’s not forget Washington; they’re pissed I’ve been keeping a second super-powered human in my back pocket.”
Ana Maria folded her arms across her chest and frowned at him. “I was never in your back pocket, Agent Hartman.”
He nodded and waved a hand dismissively. “A figure of speech, of course.”
One of the blue-uniformed officers approached. Quinn recognized him as one of the naval commanders who hung around the prison and coordinated with the DHS. “However, the fact that you averted nuclear disaster and saved a billion-dollar submarine has a lot of navy brass and environmentalists very happy…though I’m not really certain about the last part.”
Quinn chuckled. “Glad to help, but there’s nothing stopping Victor from trying again. Besides, if…”
Quinn and Ana Maria looked at each other, wincing slightly. “I can sense Blake!” he shouted. Then, he zipped through the open elevator doors to the reactor core with super speed, nearly tearing the railing from the gangway when he jumped over and landed on the disk that Blake’s gurney rested on.
A quick scan of the medical equipment displays revealed nothing had changed, but somehow, he could sense his best friend’s presence. Ana Maria landed nearby and walked to the other side of the gurney and a few of the marines, including Agent Hartman, watched from the gangway above.
Quinn put his hand on Blake’s arm, but it felt cool. “Blake?”
Nothing. Come on buddy, I need you. I miss you.
He pressed on Blake’s arm. “Blake, can you hear me?”
“What’s going on?” one of the military medics asked, rushing into the reactor core through one of the mid-level doors.
“We can sense him,” Ana Maria said.
“No way,” he exclaimed. The medic bolted down the stairs and jogged to the monitors. He checked the readouts and picked up a stethoscope from one of the side tables. He placed it over Blake’s heart and listened. Then, he moved the stethoscope’s diaphragm over Blake’s lungs. A moment later, he pulled them off and shrugged. “Nothing’s changed, at least medically.”
“What about his brain?” Quinn asked, his emotions churning inside him. He pointed to the three electrodes leading away from Blake’s temples and forehead. They have to be there for some reason. They must show something…
The medic shook his head. “Those register brain activity, but they do not register quantity or quality of activity. Medically speaking, he still appears comatose.”
Quinn’s shoulders slumped and he took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly, giving his best friend’s arm a squeeze. “So, not much to go with, then.” Damn, I was really hoping for more than this.
“I’m sorry,” the medic responded. “Your friend would be really lucky if he survived. Not everyone gets two resurrections in life.”
Quinn ignore the attempted joke and let his eyes fall to the disc they stood on.
“We have hope,” Ana Maria said. “We couldn’t sense him before, but now we can.”
Quinn nodded, then swallowed a lump of emotions rising in his body. “I think I’m going to head home; the crisis is over.”
“I’ll let you know if anything changes with Blake,” Ana Maria said.
“Thanks.” He turned and made his way out of the facility. When he lifted off, he shifted to invisibility to avoid the throng of reporters and camera-wielding onlookers who braved the cold weather for a glimpse of the superheroes.
❖
Quinn landed in the backyard and walked into the house where he peeled back his cowl, exposing his messy hair. With his dads still at work, he stripped off his suit and made his way upstairs to shower. After the water ran hot, he sat down under the hot stream and wrapped his arms around his knees.
Come on, Blake. I know you can make it.
He sniffled, then let his emotions run their course and wash away with the dirt from his battle with Victor.
❖
Later that day, Quinn finished a short shift at Breaking New Grounds. He was glad to have a small semblance of normalcy in his life that day despite what happened in the morning. Though many of his high school peers knew who he was, the general public hadn’t yet caught on to who he was or where he worked. His boss, Matt, let him wear a baseball cap and at the suggestion of Keegan, his dads bought him a pair of oversized, geeky-looking black-framed faux-glasses to hide his identity from curious customers. When he punched out, he pulled on his winter coat, grabbed his duffle bag, and made his way to Ron St. Germain’s house.
He felt tired and melancholy, though he knew the fatigue was emotional—revolving around Blake and the emergence of Tasmanian—and not physical from his battle with the super villain.
After parking a block away and navigating the excessively high snow banks, he approached and rang the doorbell. Ron greeted him and took his coat, then the two guys sat in the living room.
“So, what’s up? You said you had news and something for my brother. I assume it’s Blake’s super suit?”
Quinn nodded, reached into his duffel bag, and pulled out the torn fabric of Blake’s super pants. “These are the super tights The Order created for Blake. They’re capable of withstanding his heat and fire output. I thought they may help your brother improve the costumes.”
“They’re heat and fire resistant?” Ron asked, taking the fabric from Quinn and studying it.
“Yeah, and whatever they’re made of, Victor and his goons have the same material—except they have shirts. I’m not sure why Blake was always shirtless.”
Ron shifted his eyebrows up as he looked closely at the fabric. “I’m no expert, but I swear there are metal fibers in here.”
“Bendable metal?” Quinn asked.
His
mentor shrugged. “Like I said, I’m not really sure, but my brother will figure it out and improve your suit if he can. What else?”
“Ana Maria’s gonna need her suit soon. She’s training me in plainclothes and occasionally I wreck what she’s wearing. Although she didn’t fight Victor directly, she could have had a…wardrobe malfunction over the river today.”
“Right, we talked about that. I’ll talk to her again and have Stephanie get those measurements as soon as possible.” Ron set the fabric on his left knee. “What else is on your mind?” He patiently waited for Quinn to speak.
“Today, after the battle with Victor, when Ana Maria and I went back to check in with Agent Hartman, we sensed Blake.” He explained what happened and shared how he hoped Blake would make a full recovery based on his slow but definite improvement.
“So, you think Blake will come back?” Ron asked, shifting in his chair and moving the purple fabric to his arm.
“I hope so.”
“I’m curious to know what you think will happen if he does recover,” Ron said, tilting his head.
“What do you mean?”
Ron took a deep breath. “The world knows Dark Flame as a super villain. He’s terrorized people and battled you in public. Most people won’t be forgiving, especially the people whose lives have been affected by his actions…like Chief Applegate and Agent Potter, for starters.”
“Agent Potter was on Blake’s side. He knew that if Blake was being controlled by a chip or was otherwise affected, the authorities would be more lenient.”
“I see.”
“You don’t sound convinced,” Quinn said, sitting back.
“You’re young, so you might not have had the chance to experience this, although perhaps you have as you manage your dual identities.”
“Okay…” I’m listening.
“Basically, there’s the truth, and then there’s perception. The latter is what people will believe over the truth, especially if it’s more sensational.”
“But, wouldn’t the evil-villain-turned-good be a more noble story?”
“Maybe, if that’s the case. From what Agent Hartman shared at the team debriefing, you were the only one to speak with Blake.”
“They saw him fight Victor, though. Besides, the news reported I killed Dark Flame.”
Ron raised his hand and gestured for Quinn to pause.
“I know. Just be ready for a lot of backlash from the public. Blake may need to disappear or serve time for his crimes—just to satisfy the general public’s fear. They won’t willingly accept mind control as a thing.”
Quinn looked at the carpet and nodded. “I hear ya. Reminds me of the Hancock movie.”
Ron chuckled. “I hope I’m wrong. If Blake recovers and is truly back and willing to help you, that’s fantastic. That means you’ll have another super-powered human in the fight against Victor and any other super-powered people he may have created.
“We’re going to figure that out. I have an idea I need to convince Ana Maria and the leadership about over at the prison. I want to infiltrate The Order and find Dr. Madison.”
“You going to interrogate her or something?”
“Yeah, if we can bring her back one way or the other, hopefully she’ll talk.”
“And if she doesn’t?”
Quinn smiled. “Hopefully having her in custody puts Victor in a panic and stalls the creation of more superhumans.”
“What else is wrong?” Ron asked. “You aren’t yourself today.”
He sighed. “This is just…a lot, you know? I never thought my life would turn out this way. I mean, everybody dreams of having super powers, but they come with a lot of work…and responsibility.”
“Chapter 1,” Ron said.
“Right, the Superhero Manifesto. I thought I’d be fighting petty crime and catching normal bad guys, not defending Portsmouth from super villains hell-bent on nuclear winter.”
Ron nodded. “You’re doing a damn good job of protecting us. The universe chose you for a reason, Quinn. It’s okay to doubt, even question why, but I think you were chosen because you are a good young man.”
Quinn smirked. “It was an accident, I wasn’t chosen. Besides, how do you explain Blake? He’s not exactly the good guy in the story.”
“He’s not exactly the bad guy, either, right? Yes, he did a lot of impressively evil things, but redemption is an important theme in the comic books.”
“If Chief Applegate were here, she’d be quick to remind you this isn’t a comic book.”
“You’re right, but she’s not here today. I still believe you were chosen because you are special. Even Ana Maria, with all her wisdom and supposed strength, failed to act. You didn’t hesitate. That’s why I know you’ll bring a balance of power and take Victor down.”
Quinn looked up at his mentor. “You really think so?”
“I know so, because of everything I just said and much more, but if I tell you that stuff, your super ego might explode your head.”
They laughed together.
“Okay, I’m gonna head home. I need to shower off the stench of teenage regret and several hours of coffee and steamed dairy.”
“Yeah, you’re ripe,” Ron said with a chuckle. “Go enjoy your night and try to relax.”
5-5 | Fear of the Unknown
Quinn
QUINN WOKE UP AROUND THREE in the morning and tossed and turned until five thirty. Frustrated, he climbed out of bed, dropped to the floor, and cranked out his morning pushups. At one hundred, he flipped over and worked through one hundred crunches. When he finished, he collapsed to the floor, his breath momentarily sucked out of him as his abs recovered.
He pushed himself to his feet and stretched once more. He pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt before padding downstairs to the kitchen. There, Daddio sipped a cup of coffee as he made breakfast and lunches for the day.
“What are you doing up so early?” Daddio asked with a smile. “You’re a teenager. You should be sleeping in whenever you can.”
Quinn shrugged and crossed the kitchen, navigating around the furniture to the coffee machine. “Couldn’t sleep…you know, preventing nuclear disaster, Blake’s death, and all that shit.”
Daddio set down the food he was preparing and turned to face Quinn. “My brave boy, you are dealing with too much.” He walked over and pulled his son in for a tender embrace. “I’m so proud of you, but I wish I could do something to make life easier for you. I feel so…helpless. Dad does too, but he’s not showing it. You know me, I wear my emotions on my sleeve.”
Quinn nodded against his father’s chest.
On the morning news program, news anchor Paul Anders ran through the headlines and then switched to a story with Camilla Brenhurst about the averted nuclear disaster over the Portsmouth Naval Shipyard. Quinn and his father separated so they could listen to the already in-progress news story.
The screen was split and an unfamiliar, older white man in a black suit with a red tie spoke to the news anchor. The background behind him revealed his location: Washington D.C. A title bar appeared and identified the man as Senator Wilmott.
“The world as we know it has irrevocably changed and we find ourselves asking many important questions, but one stands out in my mind: can anyone feel safe with the threat of superhumans in our world today?”
“Senator, do you think Blue Spekter should be trusted?”
“Blue Spekter is a vigilante. Any citizen who takes the law into their own hands is dangerous and the hero worship that has grown up around him only serves to undermine police and military operations.”
Oh man, we’re not going back to this, are we?
“Should Blue Spekter be trusted, Senator?”
“Listen, I don’t know the kid. All I know is he showed up one day and saved a man who fell from a bridge. Then, the whole world went crazy.”
“So, you don’t know much about Blue Spekter?”
The Senator ignored the question. “Before we re
alized what was going on, another character named Dark Flame appeared and started terrorizing the place. Now, there’s this new fellow who pulled a nuclear submarine from the shipyard’s waters and guess what, a new pink superhuman was spotted working with the blue guy. Did anyone know she existed? How many more secret superhumans are out there? Are we supposed to sit back and passively accept their help? I don’t think so. Who are they? Where did they come from? What do they want? Are they from this planet or are they aliens?”
“But Senator, shouldn’t someone imbued with extraordinary abilities rise to the occasion and serve the public trust when possible, especially in times of peril?”
The man shook his head and waved his hand dismissively. “Acting as a vigilante and pretending he or she is above the law or impervious to physical harm can and will have dangerous consequences, not to mention said vigilante may inadvertently put him- or herself and other people in danger.”
Quinn sighed and shifted his weight, folding his arms across his chest.
“We have policies and procedures to handle crisis situations when they arise and…
“You’re kidding, right? Are you trying to tell us the U.S. Government has a procedure for handling the safe rescue of a nuclear submarine when it’s telekinetically pulled out of the water?”
Senator Wilmott cleared his throat. “What I’m saying is…”
Camilla spoke over the senator. “Senator, does the United States Government have procedures for handling the safe rescue of a nuclear submarine compromised by a super villain?”
The Senator frowned in frustration, realizing he was trapped. “No, of course not. But vigilantes are…”
“Do you know Blue Spekter is working with the U.S. Government as we speak?” Camilla asked, clasping her hands in front of her on the news desk.
Yes! She’s going for the jugular.
Senator Wilmott stopped talking and stared into the camera. “He…he is?”
“Yes, he is. He’s been working with local authorities and the Department of Homeland Security for some time now in a coordinated effort to stop Dark Flame and uncover the secret organization behind the origin of their super powers. With Dark Flame dead, Blue Spekter has turned his attention to stopping the man who attacked the naval shipyard.”
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