Rise of the Supervillains

by Jaron Lee Knuth

  She nodded. “Everything is okay.”

  He let out a huge sigh of relief and said, “Good. I was worried. When I saw the news about the bombing in Neo-Nippon and I didn't know where you were and I just... I...”

  “They talked about the bombing on the news?” Lucy asked.

  “Yeah. Of course. The Domina was killed. Wait... how did you hear about it?”

  Lucy blinked and shook her head, “No... I... we just like... my boss told us on the way home, but I thought... never mind.”

  Something turned in her stomach as she realized she was lying to the man she loved. Right to his face.

  “Yeah,” he said, looking at her with either confusion or skepticism, she couldn't tell which. “I was worried there might be some kind of retaliation. Dominus Oshiro is already pissed at the Zharkovs. Who knows how he'll react to this?”

  Lucy stood up and grabbed her brush, running it through her still-wet hair. “No matter what he does, I'm sure it will bring a quicker end to the war. Without a Domina, there's no heir to the domain. That means a quicker end to the Oshiros.”

  There was a pause before Connor reacted with a simple, “Wow.”

  She spun around and asked, “What?”

  He shook his head and said, “That's just... really dark. I mean, the woman died in a suicide bombing. I don't know if my first thought would be that it was a good thing for the war.”

  Lucy kept brushing the tangles from her hair. “Sorry, Connor, but I have to consider stuff like that. It's kind of my job, right? The war ending makes us all safer.”

  “No matter what?”

  She let out her own sigh, but it was one of annoyance. “Are we really going to have this conversation again? I just got home. Do we really need to debate the morality of war right now?”

  “No,” Connor said with a smile. “I'm sorry. Of course not. I'm just glad you're home and you're safe.”

  She kissed his cheek and said, “I am definitely both of those things.”

  “Then I'm happy.”

  She leaned into him, let her towel fall to the floor, and said, “I bet I could make you happier.”

  They fell onto the bed and Lucy crawled on top of him, covering him with tiny kisses that slowly became deeper and more passionate. She lifted his shirt over his head, pressing her lips against his chest. Then, as she reached for his belt buckle, she felt something surge in her stomach. It lunged forward, up her throat and into her mouth. She leapt off of him, holding her hand over her mouth until she reached the toilet, then let loose a torrent of bile. Her stomach lunged again and filled the toilet with vomit a second time as Connor rushed to her side.

  “This is so gross. Don't look at me.”

  He didn't say anything. Instead, he grabbed her hair and held it back for her as she wiped off her mouth with some toilet paper.

  “Please don't look at me. This isn't what I want you to picture when you see me naked.”

  He laughed and said, “I'll get you some water.”

  She fell forward, her stomach buckling in two, the pain folding her in half. She groaned as it grew worse, twisting and turning her insides.

  “Something's wrong,” she whimpered.

  He grabbed the bathrobe off the hook on the wall and wrapped it around her, scooping her up in his arms. He carried her to the door and slapped the button on the control panel next to the door.

  A soft voice came over the speaker and asked, “Power Tower services, what can I assist you with?”

  “I have a medical emergency,” Connor yelled into the speaker. “I'm bringing a patient to the medical wing!”

  A heat rose inside of her as they raced down the hallway toward the transport tubes. When they stepped inside, she heard him say, “Medical Wing,” but it sounded as if he was underwater, and when the tube rushed them upward, a warm darkness overwhelmed her. All she could do was shut her eyes and drift away, leaving her body behind.

  22

  WESLEY

  The God-King Kgosi sat upon a pile of dull colored pillows, each one made of coarse hemp. He preferred to be alone with his students during their private tutoring sessions, which Wesley had to admit, made him feel special during their time together. The man had much more important things to worry about, yet once a week, he devoted himself to Wesley's training. And no matter how good Zola was at helping him with his meditation or the relaxation of his mind, he always made leaps and bounds forward when Kgosi was teaching.

  Kgosi's wheezing breath was loud in the room, which made it easier for Wesley to match. Their lungs were synchronized, inhaling and exhaling at the same time. The candles that surrounded them flickered with every breath.

  “When your mind reaches out toward the candle, do you feel the wick? Do you feel the flame? The heat?”

  Wesley lied, “I think so.”

  “This is wrong,” Kgosi said, but his voice was peaceful and content, as if he expected the error. “Do not feel with your mind. Do not touch the wick. Know it exists. Have faith it is there, without the proof of touch. Once you believe that the wick exists, once you know that the flame burns, extinguish the flame with a thought. Know that you are the master of your mind's eye. If you can believe the flame exists completely, then you can also believe the flame ceases to exist.”

  Wesley closed his eyes and rested his thoughts. His mind emptied until all he saw was the flame that flickered between him and Kgosi. He could see it move with every breath they took, back and forth, dancing on the end of the wick. As soon as he understood its existence, he pressed the wick between his thoughts, and the candle extinguished. His eyes opened and he saw the smoke streaming upward.

  “You have done well,” Kgosi said with a smile, his eyes still shut. “But you still rely on the proof of the physical world instead of the truth of your own mind.”

  “No!” Wesley defended himself, knowing it was impulsive. “I... I did what you said. I believed in the flame. I believed-”

  “Yet you opened your eyes to prove your success. If you had truly believed in your thoughts, then your eyes would still be closed.”

  Wesley bowed his head, knowing his teacher was right. He had given up his belief, just as he had succeeded. He shut his eyes and allowed his mind to empty once again.

  “Forgive me.”

  Kgosi let out a breath. “Forgive yourself.”

  Wesley focused on that idea. He considered his place in the temple, in the teachings, and wondered if his pursuit was purely selfish. Why was he bettering himself, his powers? Did he have an end goal other than to find his place in the world? And if that was truly his only goal, had he already succeeded? Was the House of Psi his final destination?

  “Your thoughts are full,” Kgosi said.

  Wesley opened one eye to peek at his teacher, but Kgosi had his eyes open and caught him.

  “Are you psychic as well?” Wesley asked, only half serious.

  “I can hear it in your breathing. If you truly listen to another person, you can go past the physical form. You can hear and see and smell and feel and even taste their true anima.”

  “Anima? What is that?”

  Kgosi pondered the question for a moment before he spoke. “Some would call it a soul, but it is more than that. It is you. Your true you. The thing that resides not only within yourself, but outside of yourself, outside and inside of your body and your mind. It is the thing that touches all things. It is your connection to the universe.”

  Wesley nodded.

  “You don't believe my words.”

  “No, that's not it. I just... I'm not used to thinking about things in those terms. I'm used to hard science and provable facts and logic and... this is different.”

  “Not so much.”

  Wesley couldn't help himself. He hated questioning the teacher, but sometimes he had to in order to understand.

  “How can it not be different? We're not talking about quantifiable ideas. We're talking about ethereal subjects that can't be proven. We're talking about faith.”r />
  “We are talking about Veritas.”

  Wesley nodded, dissatisfied with the answer.

  “It simply is, Wesley. The things I am teaching you, they exist because they exist. You must have faith in order for them to reveal themselves, this is true, but even if you don't believe in them, they still exist. This is Veritas. This is the truth beyond truth.”

  Somehow, what the man was saying made sense to him. He wanted numbers and rational proof to what he was being taught, yet when he let go of his iron grip on what he thought reality was, his powers were stronger, or at least more precise.

  “Do you believe me?”

  Wesley opened his mouth to answer genuinely, but instead he gave his teacher a knowing smirk and said, “You already know the answer to that.”

  Kgosi nodded contently and said, “You have doubt, but you want to believe me. The reason for this is simple. You are drawn to the truth, but afraid to go past it.”

  Wesley bowed his head, unable to deny the shame he felt. “Tell me: how do I let go of my doubt? How do I trust in Veritas?”

  Kgosi shook his head. “Listen to my words, Wesley. It is not Veritas that you need to trust. Veritas exists with or without you. It is I, the God-King Kgosi that you must trust. I am the physical barrier between you and the ultimate truth of the mind. So I ask you, what must I do for you to trust me?”

  Wesley was unsettled by the question, not expecting the man to ever ask him anything. He was supposed to have all the answers. Yet, when Wesley considered the question, he realized it was Kgosi that he didn't trust. As soon as his next thought entered his mind, he blurted it out.

  “There are things about this temple that Zola refuses to talk about. Secrets don't harbor trust.”

  The question shook the calm in Kgosi's smile, but it returned soon enough as he asked, “What secrets?”

  Wesley shuffled on the floor and adjusted his glasses. “The women that live here. The children. The... ones with powers.”

  Kgosi accepted the question with a slow nod, still smiling. “You question the ethics of what we do? Or the legality?”

  “I... I don't know. Both maybe?”

  “The legality isn't something I can deny. What we are doing is against the laws of the Empire. But I never took you for an imperial patriot.”

  Wesley shook his head. “I'm not. To be honest, I don't care one way or another. That's why I'm here. But... aren't you afraid you're putting everyone in the temple at risk? If the Imperator found out-”

  “He won't.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  Kgosi stared at him, studying him for a moment, as if he were deciding how much he should say to Wesley, but finally he admitted, “We have... financial dealings with the Guardian of the South. An unfortunate need in this era. But everyone is happy. No one has any reason to question us or upset the way of things. We keep the world outside happy, and they leave us alone.”

  Wesley shook his head. “But that can't last forever. Once the children grow up, once their powers develop-”

  “Once our family is full of those who have embraced Veritas? What threat do the Zharkovs, or anyone for that matter, pose to the House of Psi? Don't you see Wesley? Once everything is in place, nothing can stop us.”

  Wesley whispered in disbelief, “You're building an army.”

  Kgosi's smile drifted away, his eyes turning to a sadness drowning in disappointment. “No, Wesley. I'm building a family.”

  “A family to fight the Zharkovs.”

  The smile returned to Kgosi's lips, soft and content as he spoke. “That's where you're confused. I'm building a family so that there will be no need for fighting. If our family is big enough, and if our faith in Veritas is strong enough, we won't have to fight anyone. I seek no crown. I only seek peace, Wesley. I want the world to reach enlightenment. To move beyond borders and empires and crowns. I want them all to know Veritas. And I know you want that too.”

  Wesley wanted to argue, but the man was right. It was why he always stayed home to do homework when his friends were out stealing cigarettes. It was why he spent time at the library, searching for books with facts that may have slipped through the imperial censorship. His pursuit had always been knowledge, yet he always felt unfulfilled. And here was a man offering him exactly what he wanted. Truth beyond the truth.

  “Your breath is calm.”

  Wesley nodded. “I believe you.”

  “Yet we still haven't talked about the ethics.”

  Wesley shook his head, not wanting to question the man anymore, but Kgosi was insistent on defending every last aspect of their operation.

  “The women who live here do so under no duress. They have chosen to live here, chosen to be a part of our family. They happily give birth to both civilians of the Empire and to the children of the House of Psi. They are honored members of the temple, even without powers of their own, because they give their physical bodies to Veritas. They have done more to further the truth we seek than any psionic within these walls.”

  “And Zola said besides you and her, the two twins are the only other adults with powers? They are... providing their genes for the family?”

  “The Bautista brothers. That's correct.” Then Kgosi smiled and said, “But let us not forget your sudden arrival on our doorstep.”

  Wesley looked down at the floor with embarrassment. The whole thing felt awkward to him, but he had always felt clumsy around women in general, even if sex wasn't being discussed. His friends mocked his virginity, but it never came up as any kind of barrier in his life. He had sort of just accepted the fact that he most likely would never have to deal with it. Yet there he was, suddenly talking about breeding the next generation of psionics.

  Kgosi must have sensed Wesley's flurry of hormones, his uneven breathing, and his rapid heartbeat when he said, “Let me try to put you at ease, Wesley. You will not be asked to do anything you do not want to do. There is always a choice. One that I, of course, hope you will choose one day, once you fully understand Veritas and everything it can offer, not only to the next generation of our family, but the world at large. But for now, the Bautista brothers spend enough time with the women to produce a very large family.”

  Wesley nodded, still uncomfortable with the topic.

  “Trust me when I tell you, Wesley, everything we are doing here is for the betterment of mankind. No one is forced into our beliefs, no one is forced into our actions. We are a family, devoted to one another in a way that transcends politics or religion. You will grow to understand this, I have no doubt. And I look forward to the day when you and I can speak on a level of understanding that at this point, you cannot even imagine possible.”

  Wesley nodded, genuinely wanting what the man said to be true. To feel a sense of purpose in the world is all he ever wanted, and the purpose that Kgosi promised him sounded like exactly the kind of thing he had been searching for.

  Wesley bowed his head and spoke more truly than he ever had before, “Veritas.”

  He spoke it with the kind of honesty he had hoped for. His heart wanted to believe, if he could only get his mind to agree.

  23

  CARMEN

  “Dominus Mastodon will announce his decision at this evening's dinner.”

  The Domina was smiling, but her face revealed nothing. Carmen couldn't decipher whether she was pleased or even knew what the Dominus had decided. She reluctantly accepted the drama of the announcement and nodded her head. When the Domina closed the door behind her, Zana stood up from her chair and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath in through her nose.

  “Zana, please try to remain calm,” Maksim said, far too abruptly.

  Zana's eyes flashed at him and Carmen braced herself for the onslaught.

  “Calm? What do you think I'm trying to do, uncle? Excuse me if it takes me a moment to accept my fate.”

  “I was only saying-”

  “I know exactly what you're saying. Please spare me the explanation. I'm a Zharkov. A femal
e Zharkov. This family has been explaining my place in the world since I was born. If it hasn't been made clear to me by now...”

  Maksim glared at her. “You don't act as if you know your place.”

  “Maksim!” Carmen shouted at him, appalled at his reply.

  Maksim shook his head. “Forgive me. I'm... I'm confused myself by what my place is here. This is... a strange situation for us all.”

  “My deepest sympathies for you, uncle.” Zana stormed out of the room, throwing open the doors to the room's balcony, causing a flock of birds to burst from the railing outside, exploding into a thunderous flapping of wings.

  “Maksim, you need to be softer with her,” Carmen whispered.

  “I have never been soft with Zana. It's one of the reasons we get along so well.”

  “She has never been forced to wed someone she didn't know.”

  Maksim stared at the floor, considering her comments, but finally rubbed his enormous hands against the back of his neck and said, “Please talk to her for me.”

  “Me?”

  He looked up at her, his eyes revealing his own vulnerability. “This is your strength, Carmen. If you can get past my walls, then you can certainly get past hers.”

  “I barely know her...”

  He smiled. “You barely knew me... before.”

  It was a strange feeling, this warrior carved from stone, feeling so warm to her. He had truly exposed a raw emotion, and that allowed her to see something perhaps no one else had. Knowing his weakness had only made him seem stronger, more resilient. A feeling was stirring inside her, drawing her closer to him.

  “I'll see what I can do,” she said, brushing her hand across his shoulder as she walked past.

  He snatched her hand as it lifted from him, and when she spun around, he looked into her eyes and said, “Thank you.”

  When Carmen walked out onto the balcony, Zana was clenching the railing and staring out across the Therian landscape. She wiped a tear from her cheek when she sensed Carmen nearing her, but turned her head to hide her emotions.