The Nameless Hero

by Lee Bacon

  When the door opened again a few minutes later, Sophie and Milton came rushing into the room.

  “Sorry we couldn’t come sooner,” Sophie said, still wearing her yellow uniform. “Gavin had us in training all day. I’m so glad you’re okay. The way you flew across the room … it was—”

  “Awesome!” Milton broke in. “That was the most amazing thing ever! You must’ve flown fifty feet! And that explosion of light! One minute, the GLOM was there. And the next … BANG! It was gone! I couldn’t believe you—OUCH!”

  Milton jerked sideways as Sophie jabbed him with her elbow. “We came here to check if Joshua is okay,” she reminded him in a sharp whisper.

  “Oh, right,” Milton said. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I said. “So what’d I miss?”

  Milton immediately launched into a point-by-point recap. “There was this virtual reality simulator that randomly generates a supervillain, a city, and an evil plot. Then a video on supervillains and their weaknesses. Did you know that a downside of your dad’s super-vision goggles is that they limit his peripheral vision?”

  I shook my head. Milton went on excitedly.

  “And the best part is, the triplets installed jet-propulsion rockets to my shoes!” He raised one foot to show off his boot. “Here, I’ll show you how it works.”

  Sophie cleared her throat. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? In case you forgot, the last time you tested out your rocket shoes, you crashed into the wall. And the floor. And the ceiling.”

  “No need to worry,” Milton said. “I’m gonna wear my helmet.”

  As I watched, he opened a pouch on his utility belt and removed a little silver sphere. “That’s a helmet?” I asked.

  It was barely the size of a marble. But when Milton pressed a button on his glove, the tiny helmet began to inflate like a balloon.

  “The Smicks made this for me too!” Once the helmet had inflated to full size, Milton placed it on his head and fastened the chin strap. He turned to face Sophie. “There. Safety first. Now are you satisfied?”

  “Not really,” Sophie said.

  “Good! Now get ready for liftoff.” Milton took a wide stance and pressed a button on his glove.

  WHOOOOSH!

  Like a miniature shoe-shaped rocket, his right foot shot into the air. Unfortunately, he didn’t trigger the other jetboot, so his left foot remained on the ground while his right kicked up wildly, trailed by a blast of steam.

  Milton let out a surprised yelp as he levitated crookedly in the air, pulled by one foot while the other dangled.

  Fiddling desperately with his glove, Milton attempted to engage the other shoe. But in the chaos of the moment, he must’ve hit the wrong button, because his helmet began expanding again. It grew until it was about three times the size of his head, making it look like he had an enormous silver Afro.

  Milton zigzagged through the air, desperately punching buttons on his glove until he finally engaged the jet engine in his other shoe. That was the good news. The bad news was that the shoes seemed to have a mind of their own. They made him do splits in midair and spun him around like a helicopter.

  “Just turn the shoes off!” Sophie called.

  “I caaaaaaan’t!” Milton wailed as he jogged through the air, upside down.

  It was only after Milton had performed a few more death-defying aerial acrobatics that he managed to shut down the jet-shoes. He let out a high-pitched scream as he dropped back to the ground. Luckily, he landed headfirst, so his oversized helmet absorbed most of the impact.

  “You okay?” Sophie asked. I could see from her expression that it was taking all her willpower to keep from saying, I told you so.

  Brandy came by a little later to tell Milton and Sophie that the next training exercise was about to start.

  “What about me?” I leaned forward in my bed. “When can I start training again?”

  “Soon,” Brandy said. “Gavin wants to keep you here overnight. Just to be sure you’re okay.”

  I flopped back against the pillow. Spending the night alone in an infirmary wasn’t exactly my idea of a good time. After Milton and Sophie left, the hours passed slowly. The sun gradually lowered in the fake window. A robot in a hairnet came by to drop off a tray of food. When I was through with my meal, the door slid open again. I lifted my tray to hand it back to the robot but instead saw Miranda standing in the doorway.

  “They had leftover dessert in the dining hall.” She held up a paper plate with a square of chocolate cake on it. “I thought you might want a piece. Extra icing, just the way you like it.”

  Miranda handed me the plate. Layers of chocolate, piled high with icing. Sometimes there are major benefits to having a Senser around.

  “Thanks!” I said, taking a bite. “You know what else I’d really like to do?”

  A grin flashed across Miranda’s face. “Break out of this infirmary?”

  I took another bite. “You read my mind.”

  15

  It was strange walking through headquarters with nobody else around. Our footsteps were the only sounds breaking the silence. Miranda’s instinct told her the path that would keep us from being spotted by the security cameras. We wove crookedly down long hallways and tiptoed close to the walls of the rooms we passed through.

  Climbing out of bed, I’d been hit by a wave of dizziness. But that had passed and now I felt fine. Better than fine. After so many hours stuck in bed, it was great to be up and moving around.

  “I don’t think Gavin would want you leaving your room,” Miranda whispered.

  “What’s the big deal?” I said. “It’s not like we’re doing anything sneaky—”

  “Quick—duck!”

  Miranda and I both dropped to the ground. The security camera on the ceiling swiveled past the place where we’d just been standing.

  “Okay, so maybe we’re being a little sneaky,” I admitted.

  “Ya think?” Miranda giggled.

  “Better than being stuck in that infirmary bed.”

  It was the most fun I’d had in a long time. Visiting the designers’ room, we discovered that the Smicks were gone but they’d left their inventory behind. We cracked each other up trying on different masks and capes while Miranda told me crazy stories about the superhero auditions her mom had made her attend while she was growing up.

  “During the Florida Supertween Competition, I lost to a girl who wrestled an alligator while wearing an evening gown,” she said, rolling her eyes.

  Leaving the designers’ room behind, we explored other parts of headquarters. Miranda stopped suddenly at the dining hall. Grabbing my elbow, she pointed. Trace had entered from the opposite door and was standing at the freezer. As he removed a tub of ice cream, a chilly electronic voice spoke up from behind him.

  “You are not authorized to remove ice cream from the premises.”

  Trace whirled around. One of the robotic cafeteria workers was standing inches away from him. Two others had stopped their sweeping to watch.

  “Oh … it’s not for me.” Trace tried to sound casual. “I’m getting it for—uh … someone else.”

  The robot didn’t budge. “I am afraid Mr. Garland strictly forbids you from eating any more ice cream. For dietary reasons.”

  Trace glanced down at his bulging stomach self-consciously.

  “We have brussels sprouts in the kitchen, if you would like to take those instead,” the robot suggested.

  Trace winced, like the words “brussels sprouts” had caused him physical pain. “No, thanks,” he said, stomping out of the dining room.

  Once he was gone, the robots went back to their work. But it looked like Trace hadn’t given up just yet. A moment after he’d left, I heard the faint sound of footsteps crossing the room. The freezer door seemed to open on its own, and a tub of ice cream came floating out. The tub drifted about halfway across the room before—

  WHAP!

  With surprising quickness, one of the robots swung a spatul
a. The tub of ice cream dropped to the floor.

  “Hey!” Trace appeared, red-faced and rubbing his sore wrist.

  “As I informed you before,” the robot droned, raising the spatula threateningly, “you are not authorized to remove ice cream from the premises.”

  Miranda and I had to cover our mouths to stifle our laughter. Trace stormed out of the room empty-handed.

  After turning away from the dining hall, we wandered through a few other rooms, weaving a crooked path across the floor and dodging the cameras we passed. We stumbled to a halt when we found ourselves standing at the end of the long corridor that led to the black door. Two dozen security cameras dotted the ceiling along the way. I felt the same stir of curiosity that I’d experienced the first time I’d seen the door.

  “Any idea what’s in there?” I pointed at the black door.

  Miranda shook her head. “I don’t Sense anything.”

  “Maybe we should check it out.”

  After a long hesitation, Miranda said, “I don’t know. Judging by all those cameras, I’m guessing Gavin really doesn’t want anyone going through that door. Including us.”

  “You’re probably right.” I turned to go, but she didn’t budge.

  “Then again …” Miranda’s eyes sparkled above her star-shaped birthmark. “Can’t hurt to take a closer look, right?”

  Getting down the corridor without being spotted took some effort. We edged along one wall, then bolted to the other. We dropped to our hands and knees, crawled forward a few feet, and then rolled to the side. With her kickboxing skills and her cool uniform, Miranda looked like a superspy. I’m sure I looked way goofier, but I followed her all the same.

  When we finally reached the other end of the corridor, I noticed the slim security panel next to the black door. On the front of the panel was a numbered keypad.

  “Can you Sense the code?” I asked.

  Instead of answering, Miranda concentrated on the security panel. Without removing her gaze, she pressed a five-number combination into the keypad. A green light glowed on the panel, and the door unlocked with a click.

  Miranda took a breath of relief. “There,” she said. “Done.”

  I shook my head in amazement. “If this whole superhero thing doesn’t work out, you can always become a jewel thief.”

  The two of us stood in front of the door without making a move to open it. A question lurked through my thoughts. What if all the security cameras and the keypad weren’t there to keep people out but instead were meant to keep something in? I thought of the damage that could be done by a single blob of green goo. Chances were, there were other dangers lurking around here too.

  But I didn’t want to back down—not after coming all this way. And I supposed Miranda didn’t either, because she grabbed the handle and opened the door.

  The inside of the room matched the door we’d just opened. It was the opposite of the rest of headquarters. Instead of white on all sides, everything was black—the walls, the floor, the ceiling.

  A dim light from the ceiling flickered, giving off just enough hazy glow for us to see a few feet in front of us. An eerie chill gripped me as I stepped into the room. I heard a faint electronic hum and whir.

  I moved deeper into the room until I saw what was making the noise. Some kind of a … machine. Wires snaked in and out of the shadows. Light reflected off the edge of an instrument panel.

  The electronic hum grew louder. Getting closer to the machine, I recognized another sound. A steady pumping rhythm. Almost like a heart.

  Buh-boom. Buh-boom. Buh-boom.

  “What d’you think it is?” I whispered, pointing in the direction of the noise.

  Miranda shook her head with frustration. “I can’t Sense anything. It’s like something in this room is blocking me.”

  I couldn’t tell what was beating louder—my heart or the pounding rhythm of the machine. How could a machine block Miranda’s Gyft?

  Some small part of me wanted to creep closer to the machine—to see what was hidden in that tangle of shadows and wires. But another part of me was suddenly very afraid.

  “We should get out of here, Joshua.” Miranda’s voice shivered. “Now.”

  I didn’t need any more encouragement. I whirled around and staggered through the darkness. Miranda and I stumbled out of the room and pushed the door closed behind us. After the nearly pitch-black room, the white walls and lights burned my eyes.

  “Something powerful is in there.” Miranda cast a nervous glance toward the black door. “I don’t know what it is. But I can tell you, it didn’t want us there.”

  “How is that possible?” I asked. “It’s just a machine.”

  Miranda shrugged. “I don’t know. But I don’t like it. And I got the weird feeling it didn’t like us either.”

  That night, I couldn’t stop wondering … What was behind the black door? And what other secrets was Gavin hiding from us?

  I woke up suddenly the next morning with a light shining in my eyes.

  “Time to get up.” Gavin was pacing at the foot of my bed. “There’s not a moment to waste. You can get dressed in the SUV. We already have your uniform. The triplets customized it since the last time you wore it, so—”

  “What’s going on?” I mumbled, shielding my eyes from the light. “What time is it?”

  “That’s not important. You need to get up and into the SUV ASAP. Okay?”

  “Where are we going?”

  Gavin turned to face me, his eyes burning with intensity.

  “New York,” he said. “It’s time for your first mission.”

  16

  The hover SUV shot straight up a half-mile shaft, traveling from the underground headquarters and through a hatch disguised as a Dumpster. Seconds later, we were bursting into the air. From the window, I watched the tanning salon shrink to the size of a LEGO.

  “Where’re we going?” Milton asked. Normally he wasn’t much of a morning person. But all the excitement of our first mission had him wide awake. “What’s the big emergency?”

  Gavin turned around in the front seat. “Another landmark is about to be vandalized. Someone spotted a lunatic in a purple and black uniform flying around New York a few minutes ago. They think it’s the same guy.”

  A skeptical frown took form on Sophie’s face. “And you want us to stop him?”

  “No, we’re flying to New York to pick up bagels,” Trace scoffed.

  “I know this is fast,” Gavin said. “But it’s an opportunity we can’t miss. This guy’s the top story in the media. If we defeat him, the entire country will know about the Alliance of the Impossible. It’s the perfect way to launch the group.”

  While the SUV soared closer to New York City, I climbed into the back to change into my uniform. Right away, I could see where the Smicks had made their adjustments. The pants no longer flared out like bell-bottoms around the ankles. And the armor around my chest and arms actually made it look like I had some muscle tone that wasn’t really there.

  But I noticed the biggest change when I put on the mask that the triplets had designed. Black Kevlar molding wrapped around my head, with two holes for my eyes and a gap on the top where my hair poked through in a Mohawk. Catching a glimpse of my reflection, I hardly even recognized myself. I looked like a different person.

  Like a superhero.

  “Before we arrive, I have something very important for each of you,” Gavin said as I was climbing back into my seat. “I would like to give you your names.”

  “Um …,” Milton said. “We sort of already have names, sir.”

  “I’m not talking about the names your parents gave you. I’m talking about your new names. Your identities. Your brands. Your superhero names.”

  Gavin reached into a bag near his feet and removed several small white envelopes, like what we’d received on the day when we were invited to attend Gyfted & Talented.

  “I’d planned to conduct a special ceremony.” Gavin handed an envelope to everyo
ne but nFinity. “But due to unforeseen events, we’ll have to do this now.”

  I tore open my envelope. A card slipped out onto my lap.

  CONGRATULATIONS!

  AS A PART OF YOUR MEMBERSHIP IN

  THE ALLIANCE OF THE IMPOSSIBLE

  YOUR NEW IDENTITY SHALL HENCEFORTH BE:

  FUZE

  Most people might have been kind of freaked out to have a new identity handed to them on a piece of paper. But for me, the name was just another in a long list of names that I’d been given over the years.

  “What’d they give you?” Milton leaned over to look at my card. He stared at it for a few seconds, his forehead wrinkling. “So your new name is … Fuzz?”

  “Not Fuzz,” I said. “Fuze.”

  “Aha.” Milton nodded like he didn’t really get it. “They gave me Supersonic. Pretty cool, huh? ’Cause of the rocket shoes. But … hey, your name is good too. I mean, Fuzz really rolls off the tongue—”

  “I told you—it’s Fuze. F-U-Z-E. Like the string you light when you want a stick of dynamite to explode.”

  But Milton was already excitedly comparing his new identity with the others. Miranda had been given the name Prodigy. nFinity already had a name, and Sophie was Firefly—

  “In other words, the worst superhero name ever,” she whispered angrily to me.

  “What do you mean?” I asked. “Firefly is pretty cool. And it makes sense too. ’Cause of the whole glowing thing.”

  Sophie shook her head, adjusting her gold mask. “Think about it. The only part of the firefly that actually glows is its backside.”

  “Okay. And?”

  “They might as well just name me Big Insect Butt!”

  “Now that you mention it, that’s kind of catchy,” Milton said. “I can see the headline now. ‘The Indestructible Bug Butt Saves the Day!’ ”

  Sophie punched Milton in the shoulder.