"You see, Nikolai, now that I removed the Thuban for you, it seems I'm owed something. What, I hear you ask? Oh, lots of things. There's Bluebell of course. As chairman of the Seven Wonders, I need a consort. And Bluebell – Alexandra – is such a rare beauty."
Aurora's aura swelled, just a little. Enough for Tony to see.
"Ah, no no no. I don't think so." He flicked a hand, and Aurora went dark, superpowers extinguished. His eyes became visible under the mask, wide and bloodshot, as Aurora began to asphyxiate and freeze. Tony laughed and flexed his wrist again. Aurora's body shone with solar energy again.
"And then there's the Earth. You owe me that. I mean, I wanted it before, I could have had it before. Then you killed me." He floated closer, maintaining eye line with Aurora but pressing in so close their noses almost touched. Tony's voice was reduced to a whisper. "You killed me. Remember? And superheroes never kill. And you know what that makes you? A supervillain. The Seven Wonders are no more superheroes than the Dark League or the Steel Council. Perhaps you killed them too. Where did all the supervillains go, Nikolai? Nobody ever saw them again after they were sent to one of the UN superprisons."
Tony stopped, and floated back a little. "You may speak."
Aurora said nothing, but his mouth moved, muscles now freed from Tony's control.
Tony was impatient. "Well?"
"Now!"
Tony had ignored the humans in the support bubble. They were of no consequence, and if the Dragon Star had dared take any action, he would have shut the bubble off in an instant before throwing the Dragon Star into the sun, leaving the three humans to die in the awful hostility of space. Tony had ignored them at his peril.
A beam, undulating and twisted, projected itself through the support bubble and played across Tony. At first he did nothing but smile, dazzled just momentarily by the brightness of the light. Then the beam, plain white, began to tint, turning first a light purple then increasing in intensity to an electric, shining violet.
Tony twisted, realizing what was happening, but it was too late. The alien energy of the Thuban was drawn off, drained away. He tried to fly up, out of the beam, but like Aurora, he was unable to move. His mouth opened in a scream, but without the power to break into the comm link channel, nobody could hear.
After a few seconds, his black skin began to flake off like ash. Underneath, his pale, human flesh appeared in patches, exposed to the vacuum. Tony writhed as the Thuban power was drained and his human form was exposed to space.
Freed from Tony's grip as his power faded, Aurora dropped away, avoiding the beam projected by the transfer machine held by Jeannie inside the bubble. He could see the Dragon Star holding his powerstaff to the machine's output, enabling the power to flow into it. The entire surface of the weapon was a moving rainbow of color. At the back of the bubble, Paragon and Sam crouched, arms over their heads.
Aurora could feel the detritus fizzing in his aura. Turning, he saw Tony was almost completely free of the covering. As the last of the material was shed into space, the beam snapped off. Aurora sped forward, tapping Tony with enough force on the head to render him unconscious, then scooped him up. He made a tight turn to fly back toward the bubble, but in the blink of an eye found himself in the moonbase infirmary.
Someone touched his shoulder. He turned to find it was the Dragon Star. On the infirmary floor, Sam and Paragon slowly unfurled themselves. With a crash, Jeannie dropped the MIC-N and collapsed.
"The threat is eliminated," said the Dragon Star. His powerstaff glowed white, infused with the energy from the race that had created it. Linear buzzed and lifted Tony from Aurora's arms, and in a second had him connected to the monitoring equipment. Monolith and Lawmaker, ever vigilant, resumed their guard as Bluebell turned her attention immediately to the medical readouts.
Aurora looked around, just in time to see the Dragon Star walk from the room. He glanced at Sam and Jeannie, who stood. Sam blew out her cheeks.
"I thought the teleport was busted?"
Aurora licked his lips. "I think it still is," he said, then followed in the Dragon Star's footsteps.
CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
Three days later and the conference room was full again, but this time with a new mix of heroes. Sam hardly knew any of them by name, but scanned faces and costumes in morbid fascination, seeing who had made it, and who hadn't. Of the eighty who had survived the Thuban attack, three more had died on the moon. Most of the injured were now up and mobile at least, and a mix of science and magic was being employed in the infirmary to heal the remaining few who were in critical condition.
Sam had slept most of the three days. She realized she'd never really recovered from absorbing the power core back in San Ventura. Like an unprepared runner attempting a marathon, she felt drained, lethargic, and she suspected she would for some time.
She sat at the table in the conference room, again unsure of her right to be seated among the Seven Wonders when so many powerful, important, and famous heroes stood around her. Immediately opposite, standing behind Linear's chair, was Lady Liberty and her robot Presidents. They'd made it at least. Beside Absolute Lincoln, Sam recognized X-Realm and Might, four others she knew by sight but not by name, as well as Lawmaker and Monolith. Pangolin too. She was glad about that – the diminutive hero was most definitely B-list or lower, and she doubted he'd ever faced such a challenge before. The little man saw her looking and nodded a greeting, his snouted face beaming in delight.
Then again, none of them had. Never before had so many fallen in a single day.
She gave up her game of spot-the-hero after that. It wasn't important.
All chairs at the table were occupied − Sam, Jeannie and Conroy as the "humans" on one side, Sand Cat, Bluebell, Linear on the other as the "superheroes", Aurora at the head as usual. Sam felt uncomfortable at being included at the table, and tried to ignore the fact that she had to sit next to Jeannie. The former Blackbird appeared to have taken to wearing her orange prisoner jumpsuit like a costume itself. It had been three days, and Sam realized that she'd even changed into a fresh one.
Sam looked around the table and squirmed in her chair. She felt like Aurora's blank eyes were constantly watching her, and she was very aware of the Dragon Star standing behind her chair. She could hear his powerstaff humming in her left ear.
"Detective?"
Sam blinked. The whole room was looking at her, silently. After a moment, Linear waggled his eyebrows discreetly and made a small motion with his hand, encouraging her to respond. She rubbed her forehead, looked around the room, then met Aurora's look.
"I'm sorry, what did you say?"
It was clear that she had been miles away, but Aurora let it pass and repeated his question without pause.
"Do you accept our invitation to join the Seven Wonders?"
Sam felt her chest tighten as her lungs refused to exhale. A second later she forced the air out herself. It came out quickly, and ended with a small laugh.
"But I'm not a superhero."
Aurora smiled. "Superheroes are not defined merely by special powers or abilities. Character counts, perhaps above all else, as well as dedication to a cause. You have demonstrated both. The first task for the Seven Wonders is to help rebuild San Ventura, and for the superhero community at large it is to re-join the world we have all neglected for too long. The Seven Wonders have a vacancy, and we need someone to both liaise with the city authorities, and to provide law enforcement and detective skills to our team. These qualities we need if we are to fight crime once more."
Sam coughed, very aware of the masked eyes on her, and the everpresent hum of the powerstaff just beyond the edge of her vision.
"I thought the Seven Wonders were seven heroes, until the Cowl killed David, my husband. You did nothing to stop him and your inaction brought destruction to our homes." She paused, and looked at Jeannie and Conroy sitting next to her. "Destruction directed by these two. I cannot believe you would welcome such people to the team."<
br />
Linear buzzed. Aurora and Bluebell exchanged a look.
"You are correct, detective. The Seven Wonders will remain as five to honor the memory of our fallen friend Hephaestus, and his remarkable robot, SMART. Now that the Earth is safe, Paragon will honor his agreement and go to the United Nations voluntarily, where he will stand trial. Blackbird also."
Jeannie snorted but kept her eyes on the table.
Sam turned in her seat and looked up at the Dragon Star. The face of Joe Milano looked down at her, the eyes an infinite starscape. It still felt like a dream.
"What about the Dragon Star?"
The superhero shook his head, and for the first time since taking his new body, smiled. Sam's heart raced − the smile was instantly recognizable, a signature expression. Joe was in there, somewhere, he had to be.
"My new powers are not needed on the Earth. With the superheroes returning to the world, the Earth has more than enough protection. I have been given a gift, a new chance and new powers. I am not the only member of my race to crave identity and freedom. I shall return home to fight for them. It is the power of the Thuban themselves that enables this, thanks to the machine of Paragon and Blackbird. I feel… I think Joe approves."
The Dragon Star smiled again, and later Sam would swear he winked at her.
"Your first task, I should add," said Aurora, "will be escorting Mr Conroy to The Hague as his arresting officer."
Sam looked at Aurora, then around the table. Sand Cat and Bluebell were smiling; even Conroy was, apparently content with his fate. Jeannie's lip was curled in disgust.
Linear buzzed impatiently, then mouthed something which Sam took to be "just say yes, dammit!"
"What about Tony?"
Bluebell answered.
"He is not fit to stand trial, yet, but will be held at the UN as well. We will prepare a holding cell for him."
Sam considered. Slowly, a smile spread across her face.
"Yes, I will."
The room broke into applause, and Sam laughed. Her, a regular detective from San Ventura, just trying to keep her city safe and to bring the Cowl to justice. Now she was a superhero, and would be able to serve the city like never before, having a direct hand in the rebuilding. San Ventura would, once again, be known as the Shining City.
Detective Sam Millar, superhero? No way. No freakin' way. Captain Gillespie was going to spit.
CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
The cell was a spacious cuboid, one hundred feet in length, half that again in width, and with a ten-foot stud height, laid out as a stylish studio apartment, complete with study, den, bedroom, bathroom. The ultimate bachelor pad − simple, basic even, but not entirely uncomfortable. Most of it was glass, transparent or frosted. Privacy was not high on the list of required features. The box was suspended in space, without any physical contact with the concrete walls that surrounded it, offering a complete three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view of ninety-nine percent of the interior, from any position on the gantry that ringed the equator of the chamber in which the cell floated. The remaining one percent of the cell was opaque to the visual spectrum only – and the selected superheroes that formed part of the guard rotation did not see in the visual spectrum.
Tony was aware of this as he showered. He'd grown used to it over the past six months. As he was left alone, mostly, the lack of privacy ceased to become an issue. He was comfortable, he didn't care.
The superheroes had grown bored of him too. For the first few weeks of his captivity, Bluebell had tried to read his mind, Linear had tried to strike up friendly conversation, and that lame-ass detective (Sam the superhero? Puh-lease!) had just come and stood on the gantry and stared.
Then one day Bluebell didn't show. Tony hadn't seen her since. Sam was the only constant. She came every day and sat and stared, teleported from the US to Europe in the blink of an eye. Tony had no idea what she was doing. Perhaps the Seven Wonders were giving her training in Jedi mind tricks or some bullshit. Whatever. He ignored her. That was easy. She'd always been a wallflower.
Except Sam hadn't turned up today. Tony registered her absence early, and found himself pacing the cell all morning. He didn't care, tried not to care, didn't want to care, but her absence made him anxious. His routine was spoilt. He wanted to sit and read and ignore her. If she wasn't there, he couldn't. It bugged him. Eventually he stopped pacing and stood by the wall of the cell, looking out at the gantry.
Tony tried to remember what San Ventura had looked like before the meteors came. He frowned. He couldn't remember anything. San Ventura had been totaled, that he did know. He probably wouldn't recognize the place now, rebuilt with the help of the superheroes of the world. Not that he'd ever be in a position to visit the outside world again.
There was a bang, far away. It was hardly a sound at all, more a subtle thud against his eardrums from somewhere way beyond the security area. It was only because the cell, and the surrounding security zone, were so completely silent that he registered it at all. His superheroic guard was also absent.
There it was again. Louder this time. Judging direction was meaningless, but perhaps it had come from the other side of the door. Or perhaps the door was thinner than the walls and acted as a natural soundboard. Who knew?
The door to the gantry opened. Someone ran in, and the door stayed open behind them. Black-skinned, lithe, athletic, female. Not blackskinned, someone wearing a skintight black suit. A costume. The weird head bobbed as she got closer, until Tony recognized the angled triangular front of the mask and the twin curved surfaces that swept back and up past the back of the head. Tony's flat, empty black eyes blinked and he smiled for the first time in half a year.
"Stand back, pretty boy," said Blackbird. She fished something out of her belt, some small, silver rectangle. A red LED flickered madly on its front edge as her thumb caressed the upper surface. The light switched to a steady bright blue, and the transparent cell door swung open and down, forming a twenty-foot drawbridge connecting the box to the gantry.
Blackbird pocketed the device, stood for a moment, then cocked her head. Her mask exaggerated the movement, making it look like the inquisitive stare of a magpie.
"You coming or what?"
There were two more thuds from beyond the main door. Blackbird half-turned, her right hand slipping down her thigh to slide an impressively large gun from a holster. That was new.
"Tony, hurry the fuck up. I'm rescuing you, like, now. Come on, dammit."
Tony smiled again and stepped onto the bridge.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Adam Christopher was born in Auckland, New Zealand, and grew up watching Pertwee-era Doctor Who and listening to The Beatles, which isn't a bad start for a child of the Eighties. In 2006, Adam moved to the sunny North West of England, where he now lives in domestic bliss with his wife and cat in a house next to a canal, although he has yet to take up any fishing-related activities.
When not writing Adam can be found drinking tea and obsessing over DC Comics, Stephen King, and The Cure. He is also a strong advocate for social media, especially Twitter, which he spends far too much time on avoiding work.
adamchristopher.co.uk
twitter.com/ghostfinder
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This book is the result of years of reading and enjoying and loving comics. I'm something of a latecomer to the medium, having waited until the ripe old age of about 23 to pick up my first issue of 2000AD. I was hooked from page one, and after a while decided to give Marvel and DC Comics a go. It was then that I made a somewhat surprising discovery: I love superheroes. Discovering superhero comics was like coming home. Maybe it's the heroics. Maybe it's the ideals. Maybe it's the spandex and silly names. But superheroes changed my life, and all for the better. So I owe a huge debt to the legion of creators, writers, artists and editors going right back to the late 1930s. It would be foolish to try and name them all (I don't have that much room here!), but if it weren't for the greats of the Golden and Silver Ages of the Ameri
can comic book, Seven Wonders wouldn't exist. My thanks then to Otto Binder, Steve Ditko, Bill Finger, Gardner Fox, Carmine Infantino, Bob Kane, Gill Kane, Jack Kirby, Stan Lee, Jerry Robinson, John Romita Sr, Julius Schwartz, Jerry Siegel, Joe Shuster, Curt Swan, and of course Major Malcolm Wheeler-Nicholson, as well as a thousand others who over the span of the 20th century created a body of work truly mythological in scale.
Their work is continued, of course, by the modern greats. Once again they are too numerous to mention, but my special thanks to Kurt Busiek, whose epic Astro City remains a fundamental to my love of superhero comics. And thanks also Ed Brubaker, Darwyn Cooke, Geoff Johns, Paul Levitz, Grant Morrison, Greg Rucka and Gail Simone.
And if we're talking about inspiration, long before I started reading comics, the spark of Seven Wonders was lit many, many years ago by one of my favourite bands, Pixies. Interested readers may want to check out their 1988 album Surfer Rosa, in particular, track nine: "Tony's Theme". If Seven Wonders ever needs a song to play out over the end credits, that's the one.
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