Guitar Hero (Cape High Series Book 12)
Page 7
"MEGA is Mega's biggest fan."
"Okay, his SECOND biggest fan. And they've got their own kids, right? Why would they want ours?"
"These people—these supers are not a joke!" Herold declares, talking over the crowd. "You have some of the most dangerous ones right here, in KC! Cold Steel is a vicious criminal! He's also a living wrecking ball! And how about Maximum? Or Panther! Your city is in danger from super villains on a regular—DAILY basis! And how can we claim the super heroes that fight them are any better? They are just as quick to use violence to resolve—"
The crowd shifts, the posters with his name going down. He abruptly realizes that he might have crossed the line. He hears a gentle thump behind him and sees the crowd's eyes widen. Slowly he turns and looks at Mastermental.
"Hello, Senator Herold, I hope I'm not interrupting," the Central Hall Leader says with a slight smile and an offered hand. "It's good to meet one of our hard-working politicians." The guards start forward, but they don't look very enthusiastic about their jobs at all. Herold waves them off with an inward sigh.
"Mastermental, what a pleasure to meet you," he says, lying through a brilliant smile. He had known something along these lines might happen. Coming to Kansas City was the same as blatantly calling him out.
"The pleasure is all mine," Mastermental says. "This little meeting of yours has been quite an eye-opener for me, I was actually a bit loath to interfere." Obviously a lie, Herold thinks as they match smile for smile. The more open and engaging the smile is, the more likely the other person is plotting your down-fall. It's one of the first lessons he'd learned in life, and it is one he's carried all these years. "I will see about talking to the Liberty family," Mastermental says to the audience, "I'm sure we can convince Cold Steel that a hat might help."
They laugh, clearly comfortable with one of the most dangerous heroes around chatting with them. Herold wonders how often it happens—do they actually hear from Mastermental more often than they do their local politicians? Don't they realize he could be reading their minds right this instant? Mastermental looks at him, a strange expression on his face which disappears as quickly as it appears.
"Now, you might think I've come to argue with Senator Herold's beliefs, but you couldn't be more wrong," Mastermental says as he steps up to the mic, "I fully agree that your children and ours should be protected. They are our future."
"Even your Hall leader agrees with my campaign," Herold says, stepping forward to try and take control of the situation.
"Yes, and no," Mastermental says. "You see, I find no harm in allowing your children and our children to meet. I believe that it's beneficial all around—your children will get to see their future protectors, and our children will understand just how important the people they'll be protecting are. There is a relationship between supers and citizens, a common bond. We here in Kansas City understand that better than most, don't you agree?" he asks the crowd, earning several nods. "It's good to hear that the new clean-up system is working so well for you, by the way. In all actuality, I never told Technico to upgrade anything, I just don't see any reason to stop him from it."
"He's an ex-super villain! How can you trust the lives and property of these people to an ex-super villain?" Herold asks. "It's this shady type of thinking that has gotten us into this problematic situation in the first place!"
"Senator Herold, I not only trust him with these people and their property, I trust him with the life and education of my own son. I firmly believe in giving people second chances."
"Have you never heard the saying 'Fool me once, shame on me? Fool me twice, shame on you?’ This is a villain that was sentenced by your own courts to fifteen years in super prison," Herold says. "I've done my research—Technico had the most powerful restrictions in the entire Cape Cells, did he not?"
"It's true, he did," Mastermental says agreeably. "And yet, I truly believe he could have broken out if he really wanted to."
The open reply throws Herold off slightly, but not nearly as much as the roar of approval from the crowd. He looks at them, motioning for silence. They take their sweet time calming down, he thinks with a slight tick developing in his jaw. "This is not a cheering matter, ladies and gentlemen. Mastermental is allowing a very dangerous super to train up the next generation—as well as work on your buildings and cars! He is the reason the capes are going into the schools—a place where your children should be safe!"
"But he's gone good," a woman yells.
"By his own words, he claims to be 'neutral' at best," Herold says.
"So far, all I've seen him do is good," she replies. "Like that lady's car, and that man's heating and cooling! That's far more than Mega's done, if you ask me, and he's ALWAYS been a hero! It's more than you've done, too, I bet."
He decides it's best to ignore that comment. "Ask yourselves, do you really trust an ex-super villain with your life? With the lives of your children? Perhaps Mastermental does, but how can we even know for sure that he has a son? I've never heard of him having a family."
"I do," Mastermental says. "But I'm afraid his identity is secret. It's a super thing. But you have a point," he says, looking at Herold, "they should ask themselves who they trust with their lives. Especially, I would think, who their president should be. He—or she—should be someone that stands up for the people—ALL of the people."
"That is exactly what I'm planning on doing," Herold says.
"Including supers," Mastermental says simply. "Because while we do govern our own, we still live, work, and pay taxes right where you do."
"And that's another thing—you consider yourselves above the law!"
"False," Mastermental says. "If anything, we are under far stricter laws than you are. Look into it—you can find a copy of our law book in the building behind us, as can anyone else that wants to see it. Or, if you prefer, download it from our website."
"You're extremely persuasive, aren't you?" Herold says, a slight smile on his face as his eyes grow cold. "I expect it helps that you can read people's minds and tell them exactly what they want to hear."
The crowd goes quiet, their expressions getting thoughtful. "I do not make a habit of reading minds in crowds," Mastermental says. "You see, the average mind is complicated enough to shift through—going through an entire crowd of minds would be like wading through politics, I think. Confusing, overly-complicated, and rather messy are words that come to mind."
"But you, of all supers, have had over a hundred years of experience, isn't that true?" Herold presses. "You pride yourself on your long career."
"It seems to me that both of us have a claim along those lines," Mastermental says, his eyes sharp behind the slight smile on his lips.
Herold looks at him blandly, keeping his smile on his face. The lack of reaction doesn't even seem to phase Mastermental. "Now, if you've finished saying what you were planning on saying, I was in the middle of a rally," he says when Mastermental meets him smile for smile. "Ladies and Gentlemen I want to thank you again for coming today to show support for your fellow American. I have great plans for this country and you, my friends, are the ones that will make it all possible. Your support means more than you can imagine," he finishes. "Don't forget, vote Herold."
It isn't all he planned on saying, but if he continues he knows that Mastermental will do his very best to make him look like an idiot. Instead he walks down the steps and shakes a few hands, offering his smile to anyone that wants it. Mastermental stays there on the platform, watching with a bland little smile as he goes. He'd known it would be difficult, doing a campaign against supers a few blocks away from where the Hall building is, but at the same time—
He lifts a hand, touching the earbud discreetly hidden behind his ear. "Mother?" he says silently. "He's going to be more difficult than you assumed."
"Oh silly boy, of course he is," a woman says with amusement. "He's the one that took Superior's place, after all. From all accounts he's far more intelligent and socially savvy."<
br />
"He's shifty."
"It's a wonder he's not a politician," she agrees.
***
"Hello Princeton High!" Emily's voice echoes over a crowd of bored looking teenagers. As soon as they see her step onto the stage, though, their expressions turn to shock. Well, she is in full uniform, I think with amusement. Of course this looks like a new one--with a tight blue top with white sequined stars on it and baggy shorts hanging from red and white striped suspenders. (Of course the shorts are red, white, blue, and sparkly as well.) I watch the crowd as she steps up to the podium, seeing both the males and females look a bit awe-struck. "I don't know if you know who I am, but I can fix that with no problem. My name is Divine Justice—I'm a teenager just like you, one who just happens to be a super hero. It's a pleasure to be here, and I'd like to thank your staff for being so kind as to let us in." She nods at the adults lining the wall, waving shortly at them before turning back to the crowd. "I bet you're wondering what I'm here for, huh?" she asks teasingly.
"Well, yeah," I hear someone mutter under their breath. "Probably another speech on how we should stay in school."
"Everyone probably thinks I'm here to tell you to stay in school, huh?" Emily asks over the mic. I see the kid that said it turn bright red, and I KNOW he knows she heard him. "Well, you should, but that's not what I'm here for. I'm here for a different type of after-school-special speech!"
That earns choked laughter from the crowd, especially as she pulls herself onto the podium, swinging her legs in front of it. "I'm here to talk about diversity. It's a really big word, so I'm sure you've had it in vocab at least once. Diversity is having a body of people with different attributes, skills, and backgrounds. There's racial diversity, that's a big one, and there's social diversity, which isn't talked about nearly as much now. And then there's OUR type of diversity."
Two poofs appear on either side of her and her doppelgangers lean against the podium casually as the crowd gasps in shock. "I'm my very own diverse group," Emily says with a little grin. She seems quite happy to have the mic, I notice as she plays with it, she's probably relishing the promise of having one of her own someday. "It isn't easy being a duplicator, did you know that? I'm dating Kid Liberty, but these two are always out to get his attention."
The crowd starts laughing, while several boys in the group look distinctly awkward. They're probably imagining what it's like to have three girlfriends in one. I've heard Trent describe it once. His words? Expensive.
"But I'm just one of the kids at Cape High—you've heard of Cape High, right? We're a school that's full of teenagers with special abilities. Super brats. We've got all sorts of kids—short ones, tall ones—" she grins as she sees their faces, "kids that can climb the walls, kids that can control water, kids that have sonic scream abilities. You know, your normal batch of teenagers. I'm sure a few of you have special talents, too, right?"
The crowd looks around, looking at each other thoughtfully.
"Kid Liberty did a speech like this a week ago—I bet some of you saw it on YouTube. This is the part where I tell my own story," she says. "It might shock you, but super teens have just as many problems as normal ones—in some cases we have more. My parents died in the line of duty almost two years ago," she says, her tone serious. "I was placed into a foster home in the super community, but it didn't work out. I had a few… problems with their daughters. I was bullied."
The crowd is staring at her intently, hanging off of her every word. It's only because I'm watching them instead of her that I even notice the quiet group of adults slipping into the back of the gym. My eyes narrow and I take an unconscious step forward, but they just stand there, watching stonily as Emily goes on.
"School wasn't easy, either. When my powers started manifesting I had to worry about Ditto, here, popping up when she wasn't wanted," she says, pointing at the doppelganger on her right. “It’s hard being different in high school, especially when you're as different as we are. But there are still super kids going to regular schools, trying to fit in, trying to hide what they are."
"So why are you calling them out?" one of the adults shouts from the back. Emily blinks, looking back at them with surprise. "Leave our kids alone!"
"You're not wanted here!" a second yells, waving a poster that says "Keep Supers out of OUR Schools!"
"Get out of our schools!"
"You're not wanted here!"
Emily looks back at Falconess, a questioning expression on her face. I step forward, a bit surprised when Freddy steps next to me, his hands clenched. "Wait a second," Emily says, "you actually think I WANT them to come forward? In front of all these people? Are you crazy?"
"It sure sounds like you do!"
"Oh heck no!" Emily says, shaking her head almost violently. "See, that's exactly the opposite of why I came."
They start yelling that she's lying, that she's out to terrorize the kids at the school. I see the worried looks on the students' faces, see them looking for a way to escape, and I can't help myself.
"EVERYBODY SHUT UP NOW!" I bellow. The windows high above the gym start to crack, the dangling lights shake violently, and the room goes silent, looking at me in shock.
For a long moment I see their mouths move but nothing coming out. And then one of the girls lets out a squeal. "It's JUSTIN!"
They race forward, crushing over us like a wave as they try to get to me. Well, crap, I think as I'm overwhelmed by teenage girls. I should have thought this through.
I barely see the protesters being confronted by the school staff before I'm buried in rabid fan-girls.
***
I would be nursing a black eye right now, or worse, if I weren't a super. Thankfully my clothes are all in one piece, too, I think as I look down at the uniform Nico had made for me. The only thing I don't think will ever recover is my hair. They'd tried plucking several strands and failed before Falconess rescued all of us and the cops came. Now my hair doesn't want to stop sticking up straight, I think with irritation. I pat at it, regardless, trying to get it to go back to its proper position. Nope, not going to happen. I sigh and give up.
We're sitting in the tour bus, the picture of failure. It's all my fault, I know it, they know it, but no one's said it yet. I should just man up and admit it, I decide. "I'm s—"
"That was set up," Falconess says before I can finish.
"What?" I ask.
"It was set up. Someone must have let it out that we were going to speak at one of the schools, and they brought in protesters. I talked to the teachers after I got you out of there and the cops came—none of the students were even related to the protesters. They were just trying to create a problem."
"And thanks to me, they accomplished it," I mutter.
"No, actually I don't think that's what they'd planned," Falconess admits. "I think they wanted something other than a fan-girl problem. They wanted to make the kids paranoid. And they probably wanted something OTHER than another feel-good piece like what Trent did back home. The more unprofessional we look, the better."
"Well they succeeded in that," I mutter, pulling out a comb and trying to fix my hair again. "All I wanted was for them to shut up."
"Did those fans hurt you?" Malina asks, making me look up at the bunk over my head.
"Nah, but they really screwed up my hair! I might have a bald spot because of that," I complain. She leans closer, touching the hair.
"Oh… yeah, I see it," she says. "I'm so sorry, Justin—it's not THAT noticeable—"
"WHAT?" I yelp, jumping to my feet and racing for the bathroom. I don't even realize it was a joke until everyone behind me starts cracking up. "Malina! That wasn't funny!" I complain as I come back out.
"It was, too!" Emily says, laughing her head off.
"Sorry," Malina says with an impish smile. "I couldn't help myself."
I give her a dirty look, but she just starts laughing at me again, so I give up and sit down at the table. "How can we fix this? Is it possible to go back to tha
t school? Nico said there might be one of the outed healers there, right? The outing took place in their halls." One good thing about what had happened was that it took place during school hours, and practically every teenager in America has a smartphone.
"I'm afraid it's not as simple as that," Falconess admits. "Not only do we have a schedule to keep to, the school staff has kindly asked us NOT to come back. They have enough horror stories about schools as it is. I hate to say it, but this might be a write-off. We can only hope that Negtia follows up on the lead later and sees about bringing the girl to the Hall."
"I can't do that," I say. "Look, the only reason she even let us into her territory is to do this—"
"No, the only reason she let us in is because of you," Falconess says bluntly. I feel a blush creep up the back of my neck, but I ignore it.
"That doesn't matter right now," I say. "I didn't come to be a hero—I never want to be a hero. The only reason I agreed to be outed as a super is for this mission! To—to keep other kids from winding up like the zoo kids did," I say, lowering my voice. "This will be my only mission, ever, as far as I'm concerned, and to write it off and hand it over to Negatia is as good as admitting I did it all for nothing."
"So what do you think we should do?" Emily asks me.
"We find the kid, we talk to them," I say, looking at her. "We can do that much, right? It's all we need to do to complete the mission. Either they agree to try Cape High or they don't, that's not our problem, but we have to at least give them the chance."
"Do we have the video of them?" Emily asks Falconess.
"We do—"
"I think you're going to want to see this," Alphonse says, bringing down the television for all of us to watch. The news is on, with the reporter interviewing people.
"We have the right to free speech!" the woman closest to the mic says, holding up another sign that says "Keep Supers out of OUR Schools." "We have the right to say when we want someone or don't want someone in our public schools!"