Superluminary

by Olivia Rising

  Main Obstacle #4: Wardens don’t have any mobility.

  “You could always contact their team leader, Rune, directly. I will send you a message with his personal email address.”

  “That would help,” Chris said. “Thank you.”

  Maybe Rune could even shed some light on all that reality warping stuff and on those Antithesis rumors that had infected the Internet. His team had first-hand experience of the villain attack in Liverpool, after all.

  “If there is nothing else, I will let you go now.”

  Chris had many more unanswered questions stashed away, such as what was up with the hostage situation and how the Covenant was going to operate now that Queenie was dead. But before she could say anything, Athena was ending their call.

  “You know how to contact me if needed. Good luck,” the heroine said before she hung up.

  Chris dropped the phone on her desk, and turned to her laptop to scan the morning’s news headlines. She scrolled through an avalanche of articles that documented yesterday’s events in even greater detail. Mirage and Vortex were confirmed dead, and One Fell Swoop in custody, which Chris already knew. But considering that the attack on the stadium had been little more than a diversion, a few news agencies assumed those three were pawns in a scheme. She saw no reason to disagree.

  Someone must have hired them to cause a stir at the stadium.

  They had most likely expected to deliver their big fuck-you message and get away unharmed, protected by the cover of Mirage’s power.

  Turning her attention back to her screen, she skimmed a few editorials written by America’s best known political pundits. While learning about the possible consequences of yesterday’s events, she noticed a few writers were already drawing connections to 9/11. There was no doubt now. After years of Covenant-enforced peace and order among Evolved, the emergence of supervillains was real.

  After twenty minutes of reading, she had a decent feel for the lay of the land. The United States had vowed to do anything in its power to protect its citizens, regardless of whether or not the rest of the world consented. India had drastically revoked the Covenant’s rights to act within its borders and, like China, now refused to share information about its citizens’ transitions. South Korea, Russia, and Japan demanded sanctions to enforce a continuation of the Evolved information exchange.

  New day, same old shit.

  Were the world’s leaders ever going to stop marginalizing those Evolved who could actually help the situation? Chris couldn’t do anything about politics, at any rate, but she could dial the number Athena made her memorize.

  She forced her fingers to stop drumming against the table’s edge before grabbing her phone and dialing the number. The butterflies rising in her stomach made her feel nauseous as she waited for the call to connect to voicemail. This wasn’t just a regular phone call, after all.

  After three rings a male voice that could have been Radiant’s rattled off a string of words that Chris didn’t understand. Russian, she assumed.

  When she heard the beep, she swallowed hard. “Hello? This is Mascot, of the Wardens. Athena asked me to contact you. If you’d like to get back to me, that’s cool.” She grimaced at her words before rattling off the cell number to her Warden phone. “So, yeah. Okay then. Bye,” she added before hanging up.

  She put her head in her hands after dropping her phone on the table. Once she recovered from her embarrassment enough to raise her head, she saw an email notification on her laptop screen. Seeing the sender’s name brought a smile to her lips. There were only two words in the text body—BACK HOOOOOOME!!!—but the image attached below told her everything she needed to know.

  A photo showing Emily wrapping her arms around a fat orange cat in what looked like a small backyard garden. Both girl and cat squinted their eyes shut against the sunlight, sharing the same contented grin.

  Chris typed a quick response to wish Emily a happy homecoming before turning her attention back to the Wardens’ action plan that still lacked any kind of action. She settled back in her swivel chair and tapped her pen against her cheek.

  We’ve got to find these so-called supervillains before the next disaster, she mused, even though she knew that chances of finding them were pretty shitty. There wasn’t any proof that the architects behind yesterday’s attacks were in the States or if they had ever been there at all.

  Once again, an image of Gentleman flashed through her mind, prompting her to turn her eyes back to her brainstorming list with the villain’s name on it with a question mark.

  We’re missing more than just something. If there are leads, no one’s sharing them with us.

  She opened the public wiki entry with known data about the masked villain. He was described as an aspiring Broadway actor in his mid-twenties who assumed a number of fake personalities in order to wrangle hundreds of thousands of dollars from banks, investors, and former colleagues before completely disappearing. The time and nature of his transition were still a mystery. Given the fact that not even Queenie had been able to track him, he was declared dead until the night Chris encountered him in Seattle. Her memory of that encounter was still fresh enough that the villain’s voice rang in her mind.

  So feisty. And a girl! I don’t blame you. You may change your mind before long.

  She squinted at the on-screen image of a remarkably average-looking young man with long brown hair and brown eyes. “What if I pretended to take you up on your offer?” she murmured, tapping her pen against her cheek.

  She almost dismissed the thought. The double-agent tactic only worked in stories, right? Besides, she had to keep an eye on Nora to prevent the Darkshaper’s execution. If she was going to lure the bad guys, she would need to throw them some kind of bait.

  Chris mulled over the idea before picking up her cell phone to dial Mr. Turner’s number. He picked up after only two rings. “Mascot? What is it?”

  “Hello, Mr. Turner,” she said. “I wonder if that talk show offer is still on the table? The one from Evo Life?”

  The Secretary of Evolved Affairs sounded more baffled than his carefully controlled expression ever let on. “I assume so. Have you changed your mind?”

  Chris forced a note of enthusiasm into her voice. “Maybe. But only if Peter and Nora can come, too. I don’t want to be the jerk who steals all the glory.”

  And they’ll have to be in on the plan. If Gentleman or any other villains take the bait, things could get serious.

  “I’ll call them to find out,” Mr. Turner offered. “This is a good idea, Christina. Your fellow Americans will love you.”

  Chris made a face. I doubt it.

  6.8 Emergence

  San Francisco, USA

  Wednesday, the 13th of June, 2012

  11:38 a.m.

  After the brief phone chat with their boss, Chris gathered what was left of the team in the living room. It didn’t take much to convince Nora and Peter that a brainstorming session was needed. With all of them confined to headquarters for security reasons, they hadn’t made any big plans for the day. They welcomed the distraction from grim news headlines and the homework none of them were in the mood to do.

  Peter claimed the big bean bag chair as usual, stretching out on it. Nora, fresh out of the shower, settled on the couch across from the huge flat-screen TV which left the old armchair with its knit afghan to Chris.

  Chris pulled the armchair closer to the couch so they were sitting in a circle, more or less. Even then she could barely see Peter because his head barely poked over the edge of the coffee table at the center of their seating arrangement. She shifted to reposition her pressure-bandaged ankle. It hardly hurt if she ignored it hard enough.

  Peter lifted his head far enough to meet her eyes. “Since you called this team meeting, does that make you the new leader?”

  “Is anyone else volunteering?” she replied.

  No one spoke up. The lack of enthusiasm was almost palpable.

  “Right,” Chris said. “So that m
akes me the only volunteer. Any objections?”

  Peter lazily raised a hand. “It’s cool with me.”

  Nora pushed one of her wet black tresses back into the towel she wrapped around her head, her face unreadable. “Just don’t even think about bossing us around. I don’t think you will, though. You hate bossy people.”

  “Right. Well, I just finished watching that Liverpool villain broadcast online, and I had an idea about how we can get involved. It’s kind of risky, but if we wait for approval from an official, we could be waiting a long time.”

  Peter grabbed a lone leftover peanut from the coffee table, nibbling on it as he spoke. “But Mr. Turner’s email made it sound like we’ll go out again soon. Without costumes, even.”

  “Yeah, they’ll let us out to watch movies and grab a few burgers. I was talking about an action plan against the supervillains. You know, trying to be heroes and all that?” Chris forced a smile to prove she wasn’t being bossy because she made a joke.

  “Maybe we should wait until you’re fully recovered,” Peter suggested. “Especially if your idea is risky and stupid.”

  Chris glared at him.

  “Hey, don’t give me that look,” Peter shot back. “Sure, maybe blindly charging into Mirage turned you into a celebrity hero and all that, but it wasn’t the smartest thing you ever did.”

  “Guess not,” Chris admitted. “But if we just sit around until these supervillains get organized, who knows how bad it could get? The only reason the world hasn’t gone up in smoke is because every villain had their butt kicked by the Covenant before they could do much harm. Now that Queenie’s dead and Saint’s out of commission, the bad guys believe they can get away with, you know, being villains. Things are going to escalate fast if we don’t do anything soon.”

  Her thoughts wandered back to Ryan in the stadium. To the people she’d seen with kids on their shoulders, to the guys in Averton she used to play soccer with, and to her mom’s strained voice on the phone.

  Be a good girl, Christina.

  “Your ideas aren’t usually bad,” Nora said. “And you’re a Guardian, so you can keep the bad guys off our backs. You have my attention.”

  “Okay, fine. Me, too,” Peter said from his beanbag. “But you haven’t actually told us what your idea is yet.” He circled a hand in the air as if to conjure the missing explanation.

  “Does it have something to do with that villain broadcast?” Nora prompted. “I watched the whole thing, too. It was kind of confusing. Not what I’d expected.”

  Like anything ever is?

  Chris glanced down at the cell phone in her lap. The small screen didn’t indicate any new messages. Why hadn’t Radiant gotten back to her yet? She would feel so much better about all this if she could tell, without a doubt, that he was still one of the good guys. Tucking the phone away in her hoodie pocket, she thought about how to outline her plan in a way that didn’t sound ridiculous. Nora watched her expectantly, and Peter had made the effort to sit up on his beanbag instead of waving his hand above the table’s edge.

  “Okay,” she began. “The woman in the video didn’t give me a very villainous impression, but it’s possible she was mind-controlled or something—we just don’t know. What we do know is that this villain group can mask its presence. That’s one of the few facts about the studio assault that was made public.”

  “And by ‘mask their presence,’ do you mean…” Peter trailed off.

  Chris nodded, finishing his thought. “It’s easy to assume Dancer and the others disappeared off the grid like Gentleman did, right? What if the off-grid rogues in Europe formed a group that gets around unnoticed?”

  “What about Legion?” Nora chimed in. “How do we know that serial-killing creep doesn’t have anything to do with all this?”

  “Legion hasn’t been active in Europe as far as we know,” Chris pointed out. “Besides, Teresa Mullen’s video said she was off the radar for that surged kid’s safety, right? So she hasn’t been absorbed like the Evolved who disappeared in America. I think we have to assume that all the Europeans who disappeared are off the grid and in hiding by choice, like Dancer.”

  It was amusing to see how much that made Peter perk up. “You think Dancer is with those guys?”

  Chris shrugged. “Probably. From what I read about her powers, she’s the only one who could have pulled that stunt with the sewer water coming from out of nowhere. I’m guessing Gentleman somehow covers all of them, using the same power that prevented Queenie from ever tracking him down.”

  “There are Internet rumors about how one of the Liverpool kidnappers is the Antithesis,” Nora pointed out. “Do we really want to get involved in that?”

  “No way is Dancer the Antithesis,” Peter protested. “I talked to that girl. She wants to be a heroine more than anyone.”

  Nora rolled her eyes, but didn’t comment.

  Dancer transitioned the day Shanti died, Chris recalled. And if she’s not a Healer, what does that make her? She ignored Peter’s ignorance and continued, piecing everything together in a way that made sense. “We can’t do anything about those guys as long as they’re on the other side of the Atlantic,” she said. Not to mention the fact that I can barely even walk at the moment. “But we can assume that the kidnapping was orchestrated.”

  Why else would Raven’s gang take that UNEOA guy right out from under the nose of a television studio packed tight with cameras and security?

  Chris voiced her train of thought for her teammates. “Someone planned all this. Mirage, One Fell Swoop, and that Vortex guy must have gotten a nudge from someone. The question is who.”

  Nora narrowed her eyes. “Do you have an idea about how to do that?”

  “Maybe. I know one villain. The guy who tried to recruit me a few weeks ago.”

  Peter’s and Nora’s eyebrows raised in unison.

  “Gentleman. He said something like this was going to happen. I don’t remember his exact words, but it was something about the heroes not being in control much longer. About events that were going to change the status quo.”

  Peter raised a hand as if to stress the relevance of his question. “So you think all of this was planned in advance, even what happened to Saint?” He thought for a moment, and shook his head. “That was some messed up shit. I don’t think anyone could plan that.”

  “He’s right,” Nora agreed. “I don’t think Legion was part of anyone’s plan.”

  Despite the resistance from her teammates, Chris wasn’t ready to give up on her idea. “I don’t know. “Maybe I’m bullshitting, but I’m sure Gentleman knew something about it.”

  “So what about him?” Peter pressed. “You want us to get in bed with that guy so we can spy on him or something?” He crossed his arms over his chest.

  “No, I’m not saying that. If Mr. Turner ever caught us doing anything like that, we would be in deep shit.” Chris paused, contemplating her next words. “It’s just that Gentleman’s our only option for getting the answers we need, and I think he’ll talk to me without trying to kill me.”

  Hopefully. At least, his toy robot never tried to blow me up until I attacked it.

  “That’s a stupid idea. Tell her, Nora.” Peter glanced at the Darkshaper, whose gloomy face didn’t convey any more optimism than he did. But before she could respond, he asked Chris, “How the hell would you contact him, anyway? Did he friend you on Facebook or something?”

  This isn’t going well. Maybe they’re right.

  “I was thinking I could, like, bait him,” she said. “By going on TV and sending him a message. Something he alone would understand.”

  Nora’s mouth hung open. “You wanna go on TV?”

  “Yeah. A talk show, actually. It worked for Teresa Mullen, right?”

  Peter snorted a laugh. “You think villains watch talk shows?”

  “I think this one does. He knew about my friend Ryan the day after my transition, and tried to influence me by taking on his face. Besides, it just so happe
ns that EvoLife called a few days ago to request an interview, so … there’s an opportunity there.”

  No one said anything for a long moment. Peter and Nora exchanged another glance, leaving Chris to read their faces.

  Is that a glimmer of approval there?

  “You’re one crazy chick.” Peter replaced his frown with a flash of his distinctive lady-killer grin. “But also pretty badass. I’d ask you out if I wasn’t afraid you would punch me in the face.”

  “You’d ask your own mama out,” Nora scoffed before turning her attention to Chris. “I get a say in this, right? I mean, we’re kinda chained together now. Any shit you put up with is my shit, too.”

  “Of course, you get a say.”

  Nora grinned. “Okay, then. I say we go for it.”

  Peter tossed a peanut at Chris, who was too invested in the conversation to notice it before it bounced off her shirt. “Count me in,” he said.

  Chris managed to smile. “Thanks. But … this could backfire and go wrong in all kinds of ways. You know that, right?”

  “Right,” Nora said. “But I’m already on borrowed time. If I’m gonna bite it, I would rather deal with a murderous psycho than an execution order from the good guys.”

  ***

  “Wardens! You’re on in ten minutes!” the studio assistant called into the prep room.

  Chris listened to the applause drift down the stairs from the main studio, trying to get an idea of the size of the audience there. Her best guess was a few dozen, which wasn’t too bad. Manageable.

  “Relax,” the stylist urged while applying another layer of face powder on Chris’s forehead.

  Chris squeezed her eyes shut to avoid thinking about the millions of viewers sitting in front of their TV screens watching her. There was one person she intended to send a message to, and he wasn’t going to care about the evenness of her complexion.

  Nora, at least, was already prepped and positioned by the door leading to the studio door. “Why does your face need more powder? You look fine to me.”