The Nameless Hero

by Lee Bacon

  So that was how all those slips of paper had appeared out of nowhere. It was Trace the whole time. We just couldn’t see him.

  While we were waiting for the designers to arrive, Gavin showed us around more of headquarters. All the rooms looked the same: white floors stretching toward white walls, with enormous white ceilings far above. And everywhere we went, security cameras swiveled to follow our movements.

  There was one thing that stood out, though. As we passed through yet another identical white room, I glanced to my right and noticed a very long corridor, stretching so far that I could barely make out what was at the end. A black door.

  “What’s in there?” I asked, pointing.

  “Oh, that.” Gavin’s face twitched in a funny way. “That’s—nothing. Nothing at all. Let’s keep moving.”

  The others kept moving, but I stayed where I was for a moment longer. I counted at least twenty security cameras between me and the door. Whatever was behind it, there was more to it than Gavin was letting on.

  “Joshua?” Gavin’s voice echoed across the room. Everyone was looking back at me. “You coming?”

  “Be right there,” I called, jogging to catch up.

  Our next stop was the dining hall, where a steaming breakfast buffet was already waiting for us. Elliot’s charred slice of toast had gone uneaten in my duffel bag all morning, and the sight of so much food made me realize how hungry I was.

  Once I’d piled my plate to capacity, I took a seat at the end of the long dining table. I’d just sort of assumed that Sophie and Milton would join me. But they’d struck up a conversation with nFinity on their way through the food line, and as they emerged with their trays, the three of them were so caught up chatting with each other that they never once glanced in my direction. Instead, they settled at the other end of the table.

  I felt a flash of annoyance toward my friends. A few seconds with nFinity and it was like I didn’t exist. Not that I could really blame them. nFinity was famous; he was a superhero. Even without his uniform, he looked like a teen pop star.

  “Mind if I sit here?”

  Miranda was standing beside me, balancing her tray with one hand and flipping an apple into the air with the other. Great, I thought. First my friends ditch me, and now I get stuck with weird Ms. Know-It-All.

  She snapped the apple out of the air. “Fine, then! I’ll sit somewhere else.”

  Miranda turned to go.

  “Wait! I’m sorry. Of course I don’t mind if you sit here. I was just …” I went quiet all at once, hitting the rewind button in my brain. Something didn’t make sense. “Hold on a second—I never said—”

  “That you think I’m weird Ms. Know-It-All?”

  All of a sudden, my chair felt a lot less steady beneath me. I stared up at Miranda as the events of the morning all clicked into place. The knowing look she’d given me on the bus. How she’d been so sure my name was Joshua. Finishing my sentences, as if she knew what I was going to say before I did. “You’re a … mind reader?”

  Miranda has the Gyft of superpowered intuition—which means you’d better watch what you think when she’s around.

  Miranda set her tray down and dropped into the seat beside me. “Sort of. I don’t really read minds. It’s more like I just … skim the surface of people’s thoughts. I’m what they call a Senser.”

  I shook my head, too astounded to respond. It was kind of intimidating to be sitting so close to someone who could peer into my brain as if it were an open window. What if she saw something embarrassing in there? I was definitely going to have to watch what I thought around her.

  “That’s an amazing Gyft,” I managed to say.

  “Actually, most of the time it’s pretty annoying. When I walk through a crowd, it’s like a hundred radio stations playing at once. And believe me, there are a lot of things going on inside people’s heads you don’t want to know. My mom has me working with a private tutor every day to get better at controlling it. Teaching me how to Sense other things.”

  “What kinds of things?”

  “Well, for example, I can tell that nFinity is about to start playing with fire.”

  I looked to the other end of the long table, where nFinity was seated beside Sophie and Milton. He aimed the palm of his hand down at the sliced bagel in front of him. “On second thought, I’d like that toasted,” he said. And from his hand came a six-inch flame that rolled over the surface of the bagel, turning it a golden brown.

  “It’s like you can read minds and see the future,” I said.

  “It’s more like”—Miranda hesitated—“intuition. Like how you might get the feeling that it’s about to start raining just from the way it feels outside. My intuition is just a lot sharper than most people’s.”

  Our conversation was interrupted by applause at the other end of the table. Apparently nFinity wasn’t done using his Gyft just yet. As he flipped his hand over, the flame gradually shifted so that it resembled a horse galloping across his fingers. Then it transformed again—into a tree, with fluttering branches. A few seconds later, the flame changed shape to become a chubby little man. A miniature version of Gavin. The tiny flaming figure paced from one end of nFinity’s hand to the other, waving his arms around frantically in a way that really did remind me of what we’d just witnessed. Sophie and Milton clapped louder with each new trick.

  “I could never control my power like that,” Sophie said in a voice that was higher, more girlish, than usual.

  nFinity shrugged. “I’d be happy to work with you on it. Give you a few tips.”

  Maybe it was just the light of the flame, but I was pretty sure Sophie was blushing.

  I impaled a mound of scrambled eggs with my fork. It was one thing to choose a seat next to nFinity instead of me, but since when did Sophie go around acting like such a fan girl? And just because nFinity was a celebrity didn’t mean he had to treat breakfast like his own personal one-man show. I could make a muffin explode, but that didn’t mean I was about to go around showing it off to everyone.

  Sophie wasn’t the only one who was impressed. Milton had been obsessed with superheroes all his life, and he seemed to be admiring nFinity nearly as much as he did Captain Justice.

  “Is it true that you captured Blake Buzzard on the same day that you recorded a new album?” Milton asked.

  “You’re a musician too?” Sophie broke in, her voice squeaking.

  I turned away from the conversation, afraid I’d lose my breakfast if I watched any more.

  “What’s his deal, anyway?” I said under my breath.

  “nFinity? He got his break a couple years back,” Miranda explained. “Gavin saw a YouTube video of him trying out his Gyft on a tin can. Plucked him out of school, outfitted him in a new uniform, gave him the name nFinity. Now he’s a megastar. TV show appearances, magazine profiles, celebrity endorsement deals.”

  “If he’s such a big shot, what’s he doing in the basement of a tanning salon with all of us?”

  “Since Gavin helped him get his start and paid for his training when he was younger, nFinity’s doing it as a favor.”

  “And what about you? What are you doing here?”

  For the first time, the look of certainty vanished from Miranda’s eyes. “Ever since I began developing my Gyft, my mom’s big goal in life has been to make sure I become a famous superhero. She had me working with private tutors and began signing me up for auditions all over the country.”

  “Auditions. Like, for school plays and stuff?”

  “Not quite. I’m talking about auditions for Gyfted kids. It’s how you get gigs showing off your power at competitions. Eventually, if you’re lucky, you get discovered.”

  “Is that what you want?”

  Miranda ran a finger across the star-shaped birthmark beneath her eye as if she could wipe it away. “At the beginning, yeah. What kid doesn’t want to be a superhero, right? But lately, I’m not so sure. My mom pulled me out of school because it was getting in the way of audition
s, so I never see any of my friends anymore. And sometimes I feel like I’m living her dream, not mine.”

  Miranda pushed away her tray, rising from her seat.

  “Anyway, it’s been nice talking to you, Joshua.”

  “Wait … Where’re you—”

  That was when I noticed Brandy standing in the doorway of the dining hall. “If you’ll come with me, I’ll show you to your rooms,” she said.

  We followed Brandy down a hallway that ended in a row of four identical doors. Next to each door was a name.

  SOPHIE

  MIRANDA

  NFINITY

  JOSHUA

  I noticed right away whose name was missing. Obviously Milton did too. He took a small step backward, staring at the white floor around his feet.

  “Unfortunately, due to the … unexpectedness of your arrival, we weren’t able to prepare a room for you.” Brandy placed a hand on Milton’s shoulder. “However, we were thinking you and Joshua could bunk up, at least for the time being.”

  This seemed to perk Milton up a lot. He nodded and so did I.

  “Well then.” Brandy gestured toward the row of doors. “I believe these rooms should make you feel at home.”

  Stepping forward, I opened the door to my room. As soon as I saw what was inside, my jaw dropped to the floor.

  Brandy really wasn’t kidding when she’d said we’d feel right at home. The view beyond the doorway looked exactly like my bedroom.

  Every last detail was in place. The faded blue wallpaper, peeling at one corner. The plaid quilt sprawled across my unmade bed. There was even a charred black burn mark where I’d accidentally caused a section of the carpet to spontaneously combust.

  I drifted deeper into the room, gaping at my surroundings. The closet was half-open with clothes spilling out onto the floor. (My mom had been bugging me for weeks to put them away.) The windows revealed a view of my own backyard.

  But how was any of this possible? What was my bedroom doing in an underground facility?

  “We wanted you to feel comfortable,” Brandy said from the doorway. “We know that it can be difficult to be away from home for so long. So we created replicas of your bedrooms.”

  “But … how?” I asked.

  “One of Gavin’s other employees is a Senser.”

  “You mean—like Miranda.”

  Brandy nodded. “Except much more experienced. By looking into your thoughts, she was able to create near-perfect renderings of your bedrooms.”

  Great. Another person reading my mind without my knowing it. What else had they discovered while rooting around in my brain? Did they know that my mom kept zombies locked in the basement? Or that my dad had tried to blow up the moon—twice?

  “At least I’m finally allowed to see your room,” Milton said, looking around. As part of my parents’ whole evil-supervillains-who-have-to-hide-their-identities thing, there was a strict rule against visitors, and this included Milton. Even though he lived only a few houses away, he’d never actually been allowed through the front door.

  “We had to make a slight modification when we learned that there would be two occupants.” Brandy reached under the bed. I was worried she’d come out with a pair of old underwear, but instead, she rolled out a second bed. “You can sleep here, Milton. I hope it meets your specifications.”

  “It’s great!” Milton grinned, his eyes settling on the window that looked out on the backyard. “How’d you get a window in here? I thought we were a half mile underground.”

  “That isn’t a real window,” Brandy replied. “And that isn’t a real backyard either.”

  Taking a step toward the window, Milton and I leaned forward until our faces were only a few inches from the surface of the glass. That was when I noticed the tiny pixels forming the landscape of my backyard.

  “It’s a TV,” I said.

  “An ultra-high-definition three-dimensional television with motion-capture perspective shift,” Brandy corrected. “And the best thing is—if you don’t like the view, change it!”

  Brandy picked a remote off a side table and pointed it at the high-definition windows. With the press of a button, the scenery outside changed. It was still my backyard, but now it was in the middle of a huge thunderstorm. Gray clouds swirled in the sky. Rain slashed against the shaking branches of trees.

  With another click of a button, the view changed again—and again, and again. Next it was a clear night, a full moon shining over nearby rooftops. After that, my backyard disappeared entirely. Suddenly my bedroom window was looking out onto the cratered surface of the moon. Another click and the moon was gone, replaced by a landscape of snow-topped mountains, a stone castle nestled into the side of a faraway cliff.

  “There are hundreds of possibilities,” Brandy said. “All with the push of a button.”

  “Awesome!” Milton said. “Do the windows get cable?”

  Brandy chuckled. “Yes, you can watch regular TV too.”

  Milton looked like he was about to kick back and start channel surfing, but Brandy had something else in mind.

  “We’ll have your luggage delivered in a few minutes,” she said. “But for now, if you’ll follow me out into the main facility, I believe the Smicks should be arriving soon.”

  “Who’re the Smicks?” I asked.

  “The uniform designers. And just a word of warning … When you meet them, try not to stare.”

  “Stare? Why would we stare?”

  Brandy looked at me like she knew something I didn’t. I was getting used to that look. “You’ll see.”

  10

  Brandy called everyone together except nFinity. Since he already had a uniform, there was no need for him to meet with the Smicks (although I got the impression that Sophie would’ve liked to have him along). As Brandy led us back through the series of all-white hallways and chambers, I looked up at the tiny surveillance cameras, wondering who was watching on the other end.

  When we reached the main room, Gavin was already there, talking with the Smicks. The designers were huddled closely together—weirdly close, actually. Almost like the three of them were taking part in a big group hug.

  It wasn’t until they turned to face us that I realized the Smicks weren’t hugging. They were … connected.

  Our uniform designers were Siamese triplets.

  Despite Brandy’s warning, I couldn’t help staring. Each was connected to the other by the torso, meaning that they had three heads, two arms, and six legs—all stretched across three bodies. They were wearing a customized black turtleneck sweater that fit all three of them. And they weren’t identical. In fact, they looked about as different from each other as possible.

  Gavin introduced us.

  There was Helmi, the tall, slender woman who was at the left end of the trio. Like the other two, she looked around fifty years old. She had a long, arched nose that seemed to sniff down at everything and everyone (including her two siblings) with disdain.

  On the far right was Gertrude, a short, plump woman with puckered lips and a nose that looked like a turnip.

  And between them was Mortimer. He wasn’t quite as tall and slender as Helmi, and not quite as short and fat as Gertrude. He had big, bulging eyes that darted from left to right, as if he were never quite sure where to look.

  “I loooove what you’ve done with the place,” Gertrude droned to Gavin, glancing calmly at the blank white walls around her.

  “Less is more,” added Helmi. “In this case, much less.”

  “But we’re not here for your underground facility,” Mortimer said.

  “So?” Helmi looked down her long nose at Gavin. “Where are they?”

  Gavin pointed to us. “Ladies and gentleman, I present to you … the Alliance of the Impossible!”

  As if they hadn’t noticed us standing beside them all this time, the triplets turned to look in our direction. Three heads, six eyes, all coldly gazing our way.

  “Them?” Helmi sniffed.

  “Goodne
ss!” Gertrude said. “They get younger every time, don’t they, Gavin?”

  “They might be young,” Gavin said, “but they’re all supremely talented. The best in the country.”

  After a long pause, Mortimer finally spoke: “I suppose we can come up with something.”

  “It would be a shame for future generations of superheroes to go out looking like that.” Helmi curled her lip at the clothes we were wearing.

  Gavin led the Smicks to the room where the designers would do their work. The triplets moved surprisingly well, considering all six of their legs had to walk at the same speed. In order to pass through the doorway, they turned sideways and scuttled inside one at a time.

  “The Smicks will be seeing each of you individually,” Gavin told us. “First up is Miranda.”

  I felt a twinge of pity for her. The Smicks took intimidation to a whole new level.

  “Don’t worry about them,” Brandy said. “They were like that with me too.”

  “What do you mean?” Sophie asked.

  Trace stepped forward, his eyes flicking down toward Sophie dismissively. “You’re not the first team of superheroes Gavin’s put together, kid.”

  “You used to be in a superhero group?”

  “Hey, don’t act so surprised,” Trace said. “I used to be pretty good back in the day. We both were.”

  “That was a long time ago.” Brandy touched the ends of her short auburn hair, looking away.

  “Brandy? Trace? Come help set up the designers’ room,” Gavin called.

  I wanted to know more. But it would have to wait.

  Sophie invited us into her bedroom to hang out while we waited for our sessions with the Smicks.

  It looked exactly the way I remembered. A desk in the corner was piled with books; clothes were draped over the bedpost. On the wall were several framed photographs.

  “When’d you take that one?” I asked, pointing to a photo of a volcano spewing lava into the air.

  “Spring break,” Sophie said. “My dad let me tag along on his work trip when the Abominator triggered a volcano to wipe out the Pacific Northwest. While my dad and Abominator were doing their thing, I got some nice shots of the volcano exploding.”