“If I were such a person, one of the things I would be interested in doing would be to take Avatar out of the picture. He is the most powerful and prominent Hero on the face of the Earth. The death of someone like that, especially by means of something as prosaic as a bullet, would show people that Heroes are not Gods. Remember what we discussed before about the power of symbols. Avatar is symbolic of all Heroes. He is the world’s father figure. If the father is killed, then maybe the children will realize they have to grow up and take care of themselves.” As Lobb spoke of this hypothetical, I wanted to not-so-hypothetically punch him in the mouth.
“But maybe such a hypothetical person who took steps to kill Avatar has been slowly taking other steps as well. Maybe he has been quietly and secretly funneling money to certain supervillains over the years, giving them the ability to wreak havoc, slowly turning public opinion against Metas generally and by extension, Heroes. Maybe such a person also has been financially encouraging anti-Hero groups and organizations.” I remembered how I had been seeing more anti-Hero protests and activity lately. Was Lobb saying he was behind all that? “And, if such a hypothetical person happens to be in charge of a company that controls a widely used search engine, maybe he is using that search engine to manipulate how people view Heroes and other Metahumans. If you were to pull out your phone and type ‘Heroes are’ into the UWant search engine, I wonder what the engine’s top autocomplete suggestions would be? In this hypothetical world I’m speaking of, perhaps those top suggestions would be things like Heroes are evil, Heroes are reckless, Heroes are selfish.
“Perhaps soon, when the time is right and the public mood has turned sufficiently anti-Hero, this hypothetical person will start taking action in the political realm.” I remembered how it was widely rumored Lobb was laying the groundwork to run for President. “The first step he would take would be to repeal the Hero Act. Perhaps replace it with laws that not encourage Metas to use their powers. Ones that completely outlawed Metahuman activity. And, eventually, when Metahumans are a completely loathed and despised minority, such a hypothetical person would put laws in place that would round them up,” Lobb said, smiling like the cat who had eaten the canary. “And kill them.”
“You’re insane,” I said. Lobb’s smile grew yet wider, his eyes narrowing into thin slits again.
“No, I’m quite sane. It’s this hypothetical person you are referring to. And even if that person was accused of being insane, perhaps he would paraphrase a famous saying and respond that insanity in defense of humanity’s future is no vice.”
“Why are you telling me all these things?” I asked. It was not often that someone confessed his evil plot to me.
“I have not told you much of anything. We have merely been having a purely theoretical and hypothetical discussion. If your question is more along the lines of why I have taken so much of my time to speak with you, the answer is what I said before: I really do like you. I admire the fact you have discovered as much as you have, as inaccurate as some of those things might be. If some of the theoretical things we discussed were actually in motion, I would hate to see you get yourself hurt in the course of them.” The slits that were his eyes glittered. “Perhaps you should stop looking into this matter while you still can.”
I knew a threat when I heard one. I had heard them often enough.
“Since you looked into me, surely you must know I am not going to just let this thing go,” I said. Lobb sighed.
“Of course you won’t. By all indications, you are like a dog with a bone once you sink your teeth into something.” Lobb reached for the papers in the middle of his desk again. He picked them up. He looked at me. “Careful you don’t choke on it.” He started reading again. “Though I have enjoyed our conversation, I have spared all the time for you I can. Please leave. And don’t come back.”
I wanted to take Lobb into custody and turn him over to the police. The problem was I had no tangible evidence linking him to Avatar’s death. The only person who could make the direct connection between Lobb being The Spider and The Spider having contracted to have Chaos’ energy stolen was Antaeus, and Antaeus was nowhere to be found. If I took a man as rich and powerful as Lobb to the police without solid evidence, they would laugh me right out of the stationhouse. Actually, they probably would not laugh me out of the stationhouse. They would arrest me for false imprisonment for me taking Lobb into custody without sufficient evidence.
All of that flashed through my mind in an instant after Lobb told me to leave. Still, Lobb had all but admitted he was responsible for Avatar’s death. I was not inclined to just tuck my tail between my legs and leave. I had half a mind to beat a confession out of Lobb, regardless of the later shitstorm that would rain down on me.
“And what if I refuse to leave?” I said, feeling stubborn.
Lobb glanced up at me as if he was surprised I was still here. He was probably used to people jumping to comply when he told them to do something. He shook his head. He reached for the phone on his desk, hitting a button on its console.
“Yes Mr. Lobb?” came the voice of Ms. Marina.
“Send in the guards who escorted Mr. Truman up here,” Lobb said. He then went back to reading, as if I was invisible. I seethed. I could think of nothing more useful to do than to jump over the desk and break Lobb’s jaw. Actually that would probably not prove to be useful in the long run. It would certainly have made me feel better, though.
I was still thinking about what Lobb would look like with a broken jaw when the guards who had brought me up to the penthouse floor entered the office. They walked towards Lobb’s desk. I stood and moved to the side of Lobb’s desk to where both the guards and Lobb were in front of me. I was very much aware of the fact they were armed and I was not. However, even without a gun, I was hardly powerless. I was a licensed Hero. Even unarmed I was more than a match for two security guards. If they put their hands on me, the cops could hardly blame me if I defended myself. If Lobb’s jaw should somehow get broken in the course of me defending myself, so much the better.
“If you think Frick and Frack here can throw me out if I chose to not go, you’re either overestimating their abilities or grossly underestimating mine,” I said to Lobb. “You’d better call in more guards. A lot more.”
“I suspect these two are more than enough,” Lobb said. “Why don’t you show Mr. Lord what I mean,” he said to the guards.
The white guard reached out, putting his left hand on the top of the back of the leather and wooden chair I had just been sitting in. He looked questioningly at Lobb. Lobb nodded his head in approval. The guard’s skin suddenly got bright red, as if he was having a full-body allergic reaction to something. He picked up the heavy leather chair with one hand, placed his right hand on the back of the chair near his left one. With a smooth motion, he ripped the chair in half like it was made of paper. He dropped the chair halves to the floor while looking at me ominously.
“As you can see, Andre is super strong,” Lobb said. “While Martin is a pyrokinetic. Show him Martin.” The black man’s head burst into flame. There was a sudden roar, like the one you hear when a fireplace is blazing ferociously. Then, as quickly as his head had ignited, it went out. He looked none the worse for wear and not at all as if his head had been a fireball seconds before.
If Lobb was trying to scare me, he was failing. I had obviously been faced with Metas before. I was more cautious than before, though. Trained Metas were more difficult to deal with than trained non-Metas.
“Pretty ironic not to mention hypocritical, eh Lobb? You say Metas are some sort of menace, yet you have Metas guarding you.”
Lobb smiled his eye-crinkling smile again. I wanted to wipe it off his face with a tire iron.
“A man can dislike guns, and still keep some around to protect himself from other people armed with guns,” he said to me. “Most of the building’s security guards are Metas. All duly registered under the Hero Act, of course. I am a careful follower of the letter of the l
aw.” His eyes shifted over to Andre and Martin. “Please escort Mr. Lord out of the building. Make sure he does not return.”
Andre jerked his head at me, motioning towards the door. I thought about staying. Even if these two were Metas, I was confident I would take them. Hero licenses were not given to people who shrieked and ran away like a frightened child when another Meta gave him a dirty look. But I would be risking getting hurt or killed for what? Because I was feeling stubborn? There were more productive ways to use my energy.
“This is not over,” I said to Lobb.
“You’re quite right,” he said. “This is not over.” He smiled again. His green eyes glittered through the slits of his eyelids. I wanted to knock his teeth down his throat.
Maybe next time.
I walked towards the door. Andre and Martin walked behind and on either side of me. I left Lobb’s office, going back into the secretaries’ area in the outer office. Ms. Marina was at her desk, studying something intently on her computer screen.
“Wait here a second fellas,” I murmured in a low voice to the guards. “I’m going to leave my number with Ms. Marina.” I winked at them. “I think she likes me.” Martin snorted in disbelief, but he and Andre stayed where they were while I walked over to stand in front of Ms. Marina’s desk. Don’t hate the player, hate the game.
I asked Ms. Marina for a pen. She looked at me with curiosity as I wrote a quick note to her on the back of one of my business cards. I shielded what I wrote with my body so the guards standing several feet away could not see it. Nosy bastards.
“You should give me a call sometime,” I said to Ms. Marina, handing her my card with the note on the back. She took it, looking surprised. If she was also flattered, she hid it well. I probably was just not looking hard enough. I flashed her a smile and a wink. It had worked on the guards, why not on her?
I stepped back over to the guards. “Lead on Macduff,” I said to them. Martin snorted again. He shook his head at me. Perhaps he knew the actual quote from Macbeth was “Lay on Macduff.” It was good to encounter a fellow lover of the classics.
The guards took me back to the elevator. The bottom of the building was a long elevator ride away. “Anybody know any good knock-knock jokes?” I asked as the elevator doors closed on us.
In my heart, I was not in a joking mood. My visit with Lobb had reinforced my belief that he had killed Avatar. It had not, however, yielded any concrete way to prove that fact.
On the other hand, I had learned something new, something completely unexpected. The note I wrote on the back of the card to Ms. Marina had read: “I know who your boyfriend is. Big guy with an A on his chest. Call me.”
For, Ms. Marina was none other than the blonde woman I had seen pictured in Avatar’s apartment and in The Mountain.
CHAPTER 23
“I can’t believe he’s dead!” Donna Marina said again. Her eyes were bloodshot from crying. Fat tears ran down her cheeks. I knew how she felt. Having to be the one to tell Donna that Avatar was dead made me want to cry too.
We were sitting in a booth in the Red Rooster, a pub in Astor City. It was nicer than its name implied. From time to time our waitress would stop by to check on us. Each time she saw that Donna was crying. The waitress glared at me with increasing intensity. She no doubt thought I was the reason Donna was upset. The waitress was stout and formidable looking. I was tempted to point her in Lobb’s direction, tell her he was the reason Donna was crying, and encourage the waitress to knock herself out seeking vengeance on Donna’s behalf. Even with his Metahuman security force, I suspected Lobb would not stand a chance.
Donna had called me late the same day I had slipped her my note. I told her I was not willing to speak on the phone—Lobb was the head of technology company, and I figured tapping phones would be child’s play for him—so we had agreed to meet at the Red Rooster late that evening. Before our scheduled appointment, I had driven to Donna’s place, a single family brick house in a nice neighborhood right outside the city. Just as Lobb tapping phones was probably child’s play for him, me finding where Donna lived was child’s play for me. Everyone has a talent. I had been careful to make sure I had not been followed going to Donna’s. I secretly followed Donna from her place when she drove to Red Rooster to meet me while making sure than no one followed either of us. Perhaps I was being paranoid, but Lobb had a track record of staking places out and following people. Even paranoids have enemies.
I had suggested the Red Rooster as a meeting spot because Jerry O’Byne, the owner and one of the pub’s bartenders, was an old client of mine. We had stayed in touch over the years. The Red Rooster had a pretty regular clientele, and Jerry had agreed to let me know if a non-regular walked in or if anyone in the pub paid me and Donna any undue attention. I could see where Jerry stood behind the bar from where I sat in a booth with Donna. So far he had given me no indication that anyone was paying me and Donna any unusual attention.
Other than the waitress who increasingly looked like she was going to poison the sparkling water I was drinking, no one else witnessed Donna’s grief. I was not thrilled about witnessing it myself. It was as if Donna was collapsing in on herself with grief, like an imploding building. I felt dirty and voyeuristic watching it. Saying I was sorry was inadequate, but it was the only comfort I had to offer. I had had to tell people before that their loved ones were dead, more times that I wanted to remember. I never got better at it or used to it. Not that I wanted to.
I pulled my handkerchief out and handed it to Donna. She wiped her eyes before blowing her nose. Her straight blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail. The color appeared to be natural. She was not wearing makeup. It made her look younger than she had when I had met her earlier that day at UWant. I estimated she was in her very early thirties. Her grief made her seem older. Unlike in the photos in Avatar’s apartment and in his mountain retreat, Donna was not tan, though there was a hint of bronze in her skin. Both it and her last name made me think she had some Latin in her bloodline. Light brown freckles dotted her cheekbones and the bridge of her nose. They looked so precise, it was as if someone had painted them there. Even with her red eyes, tear-stained face, and runny nose, Donna was still a beautiful woman. She had a strong jaw and a slight dimple in her chin that I had not noticed in the pictures I had seen of her.
Donna had on a red and white striped halter top that showed she was very mammalian despite how strong and athletic she looked. She had on the same antique looking gold ring on a simple silver necklace she had won when I had first met her. As I watched, she reached up and started to finger the ring with her left hand. She continued to wipe at her eyes with her right hand. Donna had not seen or heard from Avatar for weeks. She had supposed he had gone incommunicado because he had been attending to a Hero matter. Since she—like the rest of the world—had thought Avatar invulnerable, it had never crossed her mind he was dead.
“Byron gave this ring to me, you know,” she said, her voice choked. It sounded strange to hear someone call Avatar by his first name, like hearing someone call the Pope “Bob.” “It was his mother’s. Kind of an engagement ring. Once this whole thing with Richard was resolved, we were going to get married.” She shook her head sorrowfully. “My first marriage. His too, though he’s been alive over a century. He always said he was waiting for me, he just didn’t know it until he met me.”
“How did you two meet?”
“Byron came to visit Richard one night to confront him about rumors he had been hearing about Richard’s involvement in some criminal activities. He flew up to the penthouse level and knocked on the glass right by my desk.” She smiled slightly at the memory through her tears. “Scared me half to death until I realized who it was. I had never met him before, but who on the planet didn’t know who Avatar was?” She smiled again. Her crying seemed to have run its course for now. I feared there would be more later. “Anyway, he came in and spoke to Richard. When he came out, he asked for my number.
“I was flattered
beyond words, of course. He was the great and mighty Avatar. He was so handsome. Even more so than he had seemed to be when I had seen him on television. I was drawn to him immediately. It was not only his looks and his strength. Despite all the power he had, there was a kindness to him, a gentleness that was evident the moment you set eyes on him. But also, a hint of sadness too. I sensed it immediately. After we got involved, I learned it was because he was both alone and lonely. Can you imagine that, one of if not the most famous person on the planet being lonely? But he was. Because of his long lifespan he had outlived all of his family. And, because he was a Hero, he was a target. He avoided getting too close to people because he wanted to protect them from becoming targets too. Not even his teammates on the Sentinels knew he had a secret identity. I was the only person on the planet who knew who he really was. It made me feel special. Byron had a way of doing that. Like I was the most important person in the world.” She shook her head. “We kept our relationship a secret, of course, both to prevent me from becoming a target of Avatar’s many enemies and to prevent Richard from finding out about it. We had not quite worked out if we would still keep our relationship a secret once we got married. I know I for one wanted to shout my love for him from the rooftops.”
“How did Byron transform into Avatar?” I asked, feeling weird to call Avatar “Byron.” I had been wondering about that ever since I had discovered Avatar’s alter ego.
“It was part of his powers,” she said. “And, it was killing him. You saw how Byron had to walk with leg braces and crutches?” I nodded. “Well, that was because he kept turning into Avatar. The only power Byron as Byron had was long life. It was only when he became Avatar that he had the power to fly, super strength, and all the other powers. Every time he became Avatar, it weakened Byron a little more. In addition to Byron’s legs getting weaker, his sight and hearing were failing. He had other health issues as well. He was in constant pain.” Donna smiled shyly. “At the risk of sharing too much information, Byron was impotent as well. When he was himself, that is. When he was in his Avatar incarnation, he was anything but impotent. Despite that, he was a virgin before he and I got involved. He had never allowed himself to get close enough to someone before me to become intimate with them. We did our best to make up for lost time. Byron was the best lover I have ever had.” I again felt like a voyeur listening to this. But, it seemed like Donna needed to say this to someone. Lending an ear was the least I could do. Donna’s eyes grew distant for a few moments, as if she was thinking of the times she shared with Avatar. I think she had forgotten she was talking to me. After a long while, she shook her head, her eyes focusing on me again.
Superhero Detective Series (Book 4): Hunted Page 26