Superluminary

by Olivia Rising

  Queenie nodded, enthusiastic at Chris’s suggestion. At the head end of the table Paladin cast a sideways glance at Athena, who merely shrugged.

  The Japanese hero brought his armored fingertips together. “That’s a serious commitment to make for a girl as young as you. You might change your mind after a while. You might decide you want … privacy. Freedom.”

  I don’t have a boyfriend, if that’s what you mean.

  Chris knew what Paladin implied. Being with another person 24/7 would be no cakewalk, especially for someone who liked her alone time as much as she did, but she couldn’t stand by and do nothing while Nora’s life hung in the balance. She had to convince them, for Nora’s sake and for her own. She was a goddamn Guardian after all.

  “I don’t have that many hobbies,” she said. “Only running and boxing, really. She’s pretty fit. She could tag along.”

  Athena studied her face. “I believe she is serious, Katsuro.”

  “It’s a perfect solution,” Queenie enthused. “Win, win, win!”

  “Young people rarely show this much determination for anything,” Paladin said. “But I recognize that look on her face.”

  “Yeah,” Queenie said. “It’s like she’s a little Sensei or something.”

  Athena shed her gloomy mood long enough to allow herself to smile.

  Paladin’s face remained stoic, though his narrow eyes softened. “Touché.”

  “Are you accepting my suggestion or not?” Chris asked, pushing the conversation back on track. She wasn’t in the mood to appreciate Covenant inside jokes.

  Paladin’s eyebrows shot up. “I’ll think about it.”

  At least he didn’t say no.

  The Japanese hero’s mouth straightened into a grim line. “That’s not the only reason we called you here.”

  Chris dug her fingers into her pants. Somehow, she wasn’t surprised. “Okay,” she mumbled, contemplating the option of a strategic retreat to the nearest restroom.

  “Having Saint out of commission is a tragedy with large implications,” Paladin said.

  Queenie nodded, the amusement gone from her pretty face.

  “I assume you’re aware that Saint’s Guardian power protected a great number of people,” Paladin continued. “People of great importance.”

  Yeah, like you guys, Chris thought. Even the Wardens. As much good as it did Josh.

  “But that safeguard is gone now,” Athena interrupted, taking over where Paladin left off. “The UNEOA has not revealed that fact to the general public, but we do not know how long we have before certain criminal elements figure it out.”

  Chris’s mind bounced back to Legion. If he found out the Covenant heroes were no longer under the protection of the world’s most powerful Guardian, there was no telling what sort of havoc he would wreak across the globe.

  “The UNEOA has scheduled a press conference for tomorrow to address the Shanti incident and Radiant’s subsequent … resignation,” she continued. “There is going to be a live broadcast at Citi Field Stadium, and we are expecting a full house. We have reason to assume the event will be targeted by protesters and troublemakers like those who have been active in Europe in recent days.”

  “Oh.” What does any of this have to do with me? Chris wondered.

  “Which is the main reason we brought you here,” Paladin said. “We want you to assist us in New York tomorrow.”

  Did they just ask me for help? She scanned the faces around her, certain that she misheard them.

  All three heroes looked at her with expectant expressions.

  She must have looked as dumbstruck as she felt because Queenie turned to Paladin. “I think she’s overwhelmed, Sensei. Maybe you can break it down a little for her?”

  “You’re the only other Evolved on earth who has Guardian powers, Christina,” Paladin said. “We want you to lend us your protection during the UN’s upcoming press conference.”

  This is for real. Chris pinched her forearm under the table to make sure she wasn’t dreaming this. She wanted to do real hero work—not just PR crap and pointless expeditions over the last few weeks. Was she finally going to get that chance?

  “What about my team?” she asked, numb.

  “I believe you would agree that Kid should not be involved,” Athena said. “And we still have not decided what to do with Noire. I suppose you could take Overdrive along, if you wish. Keep in mind that it will be a dangerous situation, for him and for you.”

  Chris put both her hands on the table to steady herself as she stood. Dozens of possibilities and implications whirled through her mind while the three pairs of eyes bored into her. “If I agree, will you accept my offer about Nora?”

  A heavy silence filled the room, interrupted by the whirring of the drones.

  Paladin’s distinctive, calm voice pierced the stillness. “If Noire surged, would you be able to take care of her?”

  And by ‘take care of her’ he means ‘kill her.’

  Chris shut her eyes, refusing the idea. It was a terrible thing to ask of her, but since she had offered to take full responsibility for Nora, she couldn’t call it an unfair request. If Nora experienced a power surge, it could mean disaster. What if the Darkshaper lost control of Mr. Black altogether? More important, if it came to it was Chris capable of killing her friend even if it was to save the lives of others?

  “I would,” she said after a moment, hating herself for it.

  6.2 Emergence

  New York, USA

  Tuesday, the 12th of June, 2012

  8:37 a.m.

  As it turned out, working with the Covenant came with perks. A flight to New York on a private jet, a night spent in a five-star presidential suite, and the most luxurious breakfast Chris had ever seen.

  The small table prepared for her and Peter had been so lavishly prepared with breakfast items that she didn’t know where to look. Hot chocolate, Danishes, three types of cheese and four different kinds of fruit juice would have been overwhelming for most any teenager she knew. Her own plate remained untouched.

  Chris sat on her padded back dining chair, fiddling with her new Warden-sponsored smartphone while Peter stuffed himself with salmon-filled croissants. Compared to the opulent breakfast in front of her, her list of contacts was underwhelming. It wasn’t much of a list. Now that she had deleted the Counselor, there was just her three teammates along with Mr. Turner and Athena’s emergency line. The Chung family number sat at the very bottom at the list.

  Hey, Chris. Call your parents when you’re done, huh? Those had been Nora’s last words to Chris before she had gone into the Covenant hearing, but she hadn’t yet mustered the courage to actually do it.

  Her eyes wandered to the room’s gilded wall ornaments, the priceless Persian carpet, and the massive chandelier dangling overhead. Everything about this place radiated a sense of lavish authority. The expectation tied to that authority twisted her stomach into a knot. Feeling small and insignificant in the luxurious suite with its spacious fireplace and adjoining Jacuzzi, Chris struggled against the urge to pull her sweatshirt’s hood over her head and blend into the background. She checked her smartphone clock for the third time that minute. Less than an hour to go. Glancing away from the small screen, she watched Peter wag his fingers in consideration of the donut selection.

  “Better not overdo it,” she cautioned. “You don’t want to puke your breakfast in the chopper, do you?”

  Ignoring her, Peter selected a chocolate donut from the basket and devoured it in two big bites. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to fly in one of those?” he garbled through a mouthful of sugary pastry. “Thanks for taking me along. You’re the best.” He shot her his best poster smile, his lips glistening with chocolate glaze.

  Chris envied how carefree her teammate was. Must be nice when your only worry is whether you’ll look good on camera or not.

  “Sucks that Nora can’t be here,” Peter added, licking his fingertips. His chin-length brown hair was in ut
ter disarray, tufts sticking out in every direction. His helmet sat on a spare chair, ready to cover his bad hair day.

  “Yeah, I wish she could be here too,” Chris said, knowing full well that Nora had spent the night locked in the Warden Observation Cell back in San Francisco, where by all accounts she would be held whenever Chris wasn’t by her side. The Covenant enforced her proposed deal stricter than she had imagined.

  Peter flashed a wry grin. “I can’t believe you told them that you would chain yourself to her when you get back. Are you girls going to sleep in the same room from now on?” His eyebrows wiggled suggestively.

  Chris rolled her eyes. “You’re such a dork sometimes,” she chided him before punching him in the shoulder for good measure. “I’d better put on my costume, but try to refrain from stuffing yourself to death, okay?” She slid her chair back and got to her feet.

  He waved her away, distracted by the surviving donuts.

  She passed through the hotel room’s interior doorway into her adjoining suite. Her Mascot costume waited by the window where she draped it over a chair the night before. Chris perched on the edge of her king-sized canopy bed, scratching her cheek absentmindedly with her left hand while she clutched her cell phone in her right.

  Something Peter said at the French Canadian diner a few days ago echoed in her mind. What’s a phone call when you’re chasing a super-powered serial killer?

  Chris braced herself before selecting the last entry on her contacts list. The phone rang a few times. More than a few times, actually. Nobody can say I didn’t try, she thought with relief.

  She was about to disconnect when the ringing stopped, replaced by the sound of running faucet water. “Chung residence,” her mother’s voice said, thick with weary resignation.

  Chris almost didn’t recognize it. Maybe a bad connection was to blame, but she didn’t think so. Her fingers dug into her cheek. “Hi, Mom.” There were a few seconds of heavy silence followed by a gasp and the jangle of shattering glass.

  She winced. Oops. Maybe I should have texted them first.

  On the other end of the line the water was turned off. “Christina?” Mom’s voice whispered, strained. “Your counselor said you might call, but….” There was a pause, followed by a quick and more spirited, “How are you?”

  “Okay, I guess. I’m in New York, actually. Just spent a night in a really fancy hotel with fancy room service breakfast—” Chris cut herself off when she realized she was rambling.

  Another long pause followed. She glanced at the small phone screen to check whether the call was still connected. She didn’t think her mother would hang up on her, but it was possible that the phone had slipped from her hand and had taken a dive in the dishwater.

  Her mother revived the conversation with strained cheer. “That’s wonderful, Christina.” Chris recognized the tone because it was the same tone she used for months after Dylan’s death.

  “Yeah, I guess. I mean, I’m getting a chance to work with the Covenant today—a real assignment, one that actually matters—so that’s pretty great.” She didn’t know what else to say.

  “Your therapist didn’t mention anything about you working with the Covenant. This isn’t going to be something dangerous, is it?”

  Chris didn’t know whether to smile or cry. Despite everything, it was nice to know her mother still worried about her.

  “It’s just for today, I think. I’m helping out with that big UNEOA press conference. Maybe you’ve heard of it?”

  Her mother’s voice gained momentum. “Oh, sure. It was on the news. I heard from Ryan’s mother that he’s going to watch it at a football stadium or something, don’t ask me why. New York isn’t such a long drive from Harvard.”

  Oh, God. Ryan.

  Chris hadn’t considered the possibility that he would be there. Her fingers cramped tight around the phone. Sure, she and her mother had managed to skirt the uncomfortable topics so far—Helen, namely—but the mention of her former BFF put a lump in her throat. The last time she saw him, he had been hunched over Helen’s corpse and looked at Chris as though she was a galaxy away.

  “Um, yeah. That’s the one. I’ll be at that stadium, too,” she managed. “The city refused to issue a protest permit for the front of the UNEOA building, so they provided the stadium instead. For security reasons.” Perhaps regurgitating the notes she was given at last night’s briefing would make this conversation easier.

  Her mother sighed. “Well, no one can stay safe forever.”

  Chris’s fingers dug into her cheek again. “How are you and Dad doing?” she asked after a couple of drawn-out seconds, desperate to change the subject.

  “We’re fine, Christina,” her mom replied in a tone that suggested anything but. “Your father has taken a few days off work to … take care of a few things, but he should be back on patrol soon. He’s out getting groceries now, but I know he’ll be upset he missed you. Will you call again later today when he’s here?” She sounded hopeful.

  “I don’t think I’ll be able to call again today. I don’t know how long this press conference will take. It might go all day for all I know, even longer if any shit hits the fan.” Truth be told, Chris was glad to suspend the confrontation. Her relationship with her mother was strained, but far less complicated than her history with her dad.

  “Does the Covenant use that kind of language, Christina?”

  “Sorry,” Chris muttered. She was sorry, too, about all sorts of things. But not about the language.

  “Will you be able to come see us sometime? For a little visit?” There was a hopeful note to her mother’s voice. “The house is so quiet now without you girls. Ever since….”

  Ever since Helen died on my watch, Chris finished. And baby Dylan, too.

  Her fingers dug into her cheek so hard that she thought she might have drawn blood. She took her hand away and sat on it, wishing that she had the foresight to light a smoke before making the call.

  “We miss you, Christina. Barney just whines and sleeps all day since you’ve been gone.”

  I’m sorry you’re lonely and the dog’s getting old. Chris pulled a face. I’m sorry for everything.

  She couldn’t remember the last time she had given her mother a hug, but she was fairly sure that she would have given it a try if they were in the same room. It would have felt weird, but it might have felt sort of nice, too. She wasn’t going to find out, though, at any rate.

  “I need to go,” she said. The chopper would land on the roof any minute. “I’ll stay in touch, okay?”

  Hopefully, she added silently.

  “Be a good girl, Christina.”

  Chris sucked in a breath. “I’ll try, Mom.”

  I’ve always tried. Can’t you see that?

  The call ended on that note. Chris spent a few more minutes sitting on the edge of the bed, staring into space. Her mother’s words clung to her soul like a warm embrace, refusing to let go.

  Be a good girl, Christina.

  It took her several minutes to rise and transform herself into Mascot.

  ***

  Mascot could tell something was wrong the instant she arrived with Overdrive at the Whitefield business center, their rendezvous point with the Covenant. Instead of finding four heroes waiting for them, the two Wardens were met by a lone drone.

  “What’s going on?” she asked, scanning the business center’s reception area for someone in charge. She didn’t see anyone. She and Overdrive, along with the uniformed UNEOA employee who accompanied them from the helicopter, were the only people there.

  “Please stand by,” came the drone’s mechanical-sounding reply. “Awaiting further information.”

  “Where are the heroes?” Overdrive asked. He couldn’t wait for his chance to work with real heroes, as he’d put it, and could barely contain his excitement during the five-minute helicopter flight.

  Mascot shrugged to shake off the sinking feeling in her gut. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

 
“You always do. Dude, you’re a living air raid siren. Queenie’s probably having a wardrobe malfunction or something.”

  “What, like she spilled coffee on her costume?”

  Overdrive grinned at her. “Something like that.”

  She rolled her eyes and prepared a suitable response, but before she could fire it at him a cell phone rang. The ringtone didn’t come from her or her teammate’s phone, though.

  The UNEOA employee pulled a phone from his jacket and after a quipped greeting, his expression changed from puzzled to grim. “Give me a minute,” he told the Wardens while walking to an adjacent room in a hurry, getting out of earshot.

  Mascot looked at Overdrive. I knew it.

  She checked the pockets of her costume to ensure she had her smartphone with her. As she felt around in her pockets, her hand brushed against a bear-shaped key pendant filled with pepper spray. She suppressed a groan. The Taser she requested would have been more useful, but none of the guys in charge of equipment requests wanted to trust a teenager with one of those. As she debated whether or not to light up a smoke, the UNEOA employee returned with trouble written all over his face. “Someone will be over in a minute to equip you with communication devices,” he said.

  Mascot frowned beneath her bear helmet. “Athena was supposed to hand them over to us when she briefed us on any updates to the plan.”

  The man cleared his throat, his expression frozen, unreadable. “Something … has come up.”

  “Is everything all right?” Overdrive asked.

  When the UNEOA representative didn’t answer, Mascot turned to address the drone that hovered above the reception desk. “What’s going on?”

  “Please stand by,” the drone repeated. “Awaiting information.”

  Frustrated, Mascot pushed off the wall she was leaning against before stepping over to one of the padded chairs in the waiting area. Overdrive joined her after returning the magazine he’d been leafing through, his shoulders slumping a little.