Forging Hephaestus

by Drew Hayes

  “Right now, my body wants to react by releasing a surge of power to destroy the thing attacking me. It’s my instinct, and when I first got my abilities, it’s exactly what I would have done. But instinct wouldn’t explain away the shattered metal in my hand, so discipline is required to both keep me and my secret safe. Thus, I allowed a small ward to materialize on my thumb, stopping the mild electrical current from entering my skin.”

  “Really?” Tori looked down around his thumb to see if she could spot a telltale glow or the edge of a glyph.

  “Indeed.” Ivan raised his thumb, and she could see a small arcane pattern of light slowly fading away. “Although, to be honest, electricity of this level can’t cause me pain… but you get the point of what I was trying to demonstrate. The first step is learning to limit your reaction to only the absolutely necessary. After that, you learn to will yourself not to react at all, in case you ever need to feign being truly human and vulnerable. Once you’ve gotten that down, you’ll have the self-awareness to stop other, less immediate reactions, like letting off heat involuntarily.”

  “You can ease up on the sales pitch. I get the idea,” Tori said. She held out her hand, and Ivan returned the lighter to her. Holding it carefully, she flicked the top open once more and stared at the plunger. He finger crept closer to the button she knew would send a shock through her arm, but before her thumb could land upon it, she looked back up at Ivan. “Just out of curiosity, do you mind if I ask what exactly your power is, anyway?”

  He raised a single eyebrow, showing neither scorn nor acceptance. Tori was slowly learning that this was Ivan’s “explain yourself” expression, the one he used when he wanted to hear all of someone’s case before making a decision.

  “It’s... well, no one was ever totally sure what Fornax’s power was. It was obvious he used magic—he could make those glyphs in midair that he used all the time—but he never seemed to cast spells and he fought like someone with enhanced physical abilities. You just said that electricity can’t hurt you, which seems like it hints at limited invulnerability, but I’ve been here for days and I’ve yet to see you do any sort of spell or ritual that would provide that sort of protection. It’s all really confusing and interesting, so I thought I’d swing for the fences and see if you’d tell me.”

  Ivan stared at her for several long moments before lowering his arched eyebrow. “First off, whatever Fornax’s powers were have no significance; he is dead, after all. Second, I said electricity of that level couldn’t hurt me, not that I was immune to it entirely. Enough power can bring me down, make no mistake of that. Lastly, I keep my abilities a secret for the same reason you should do the same: the less people know about what you can do, the more likely you are to be able to bluff them, or conceal vulnerability. That said, I will tell you where my power comes from... when I think you’re ready.”

  That was actually a lot more than Tori had expected to get out of him. She knew she should be grateful for it, but she couldn’t quite resist the urge to push her luck a bit more. “Conceal vulnerability? Does that mean that even you have a secret weak spot?”

  The grin that spread across Ivan’s face answered her question before he even spoke a single word. “No, I do not. That was just a general example.” He tapped the lighter in her hand, careful to avoid turning it on himself accidently. “Now get to work. It will take a lot of effort to gain control of your reactions, and I’d like you as prepared as possible for tomorrow night.”

  Tori looked back at the device in her hand and pressed her thumb to the plunger once more. If this was the only way forward, she’d best get started down the path as quickly as possible, even if she knew it was going to suck for a long time before it got better.

  Chapter 8

  Tori’s second day of work went better than the first, if only because it didn’t require an uncomfortable meeting and a massive pile of paperwork. Instead, her morning (along with that of two other new hires) began with three hours of the “system training” that was mandatory for all new employees. The training centered on learning to navigate basic programs and utilize the company’s proprietary software. She could appreciate the necessity for the instruction, and that it was given before any of them were asked to perform essential tasks. Unfortunately, Tori’s intelligence and technical expertise allowed her to figure out each program within fifteen minutes, leaving her with over two hours of boredom to fill as she clacked away at the keyboard and tried not to groan when the others asked questions.

  Despite what others in her life suspected, Tori’s intelligence didn’t come from any meta ability that she was aware of. It was simply a combination of having a knack for technology, an inquisitive mind, and the unwillingness to accept that any topic or material was beyond her range of comprehension. She knew how to figure out programs because she’d been researching software just as much as hardware since she was a child.

  Tori was a prodigy, of that there was no doubt, but compared to the likes of Doctor Mechaniacal, she may as well have figured out a light switch. This limitation held back many of the would-be scientists in her generation, who were certain they would not contribute anything that the meta-geniuses of the world couldn’t. Tori kept a more optimistic view of things; she understood that just because she couldn’t make the breakthroughs others might didn’t mean she couldn’t add her own spin. After all, a genius may have invented the wheel, but someone with practicality thought of the axle.

  After the system training was done, they took a break for lunch. It was catered, cold sandwiches from a nearby shop that were actually tastier than Tori expected. She made small talk with the other new hires, both of whom were older men named Stan, but the age gap made it difficult to find common ground in such a short time. When lunch ended, Tori and the Stans were brought back into their small training room to go over company policy for the rest of the day. It was still boring, but at least it was boring by nature, rather than due to Tori mastering the material. In a sense, she knew they were all suffering, and somehow that made the burden slightly more bearable.

  At last, the day came to an end. Tori made sure to thank her instructor, a pleasant woman from HR named Barbara who insisted everyone call her Barb. It was important to make a good first impression on anyone who did the hiring and firing—even Tori knew that—plus, they were going to be stuck together for the rest of the week. Best to keep things cordial whenever possible.

  After saying goodbye to the Stans, who had hit it off and were discussing the possibility of a fishing trip that weekend, Tori darted down the hallway, nearly knocking over a chair in her excitement to get to Ivan’s office.

  “Done!” Tori announced, flinging her hands in the air as if she’d just made a touchdown. Her foot kicked the door, knocking it closed behind her.

  Ivan stared at her over the top of his computer monitor, then began shutting his system down for the day. Much as he wished she’d maintain a little more decorum, even Ivan hated dealing with the mandatory training sessions. Besides, her main job was to seem normal, and being glad to get done with a work day was about as normal as anyone could get.

  “Let me power down my computer, and we can go,” he told her.

  Tori nodded then flopped into one of the two chairs Ivan’s office boasted. While some took this as a mark of opulence, the chairs were in fact a mark of responsibility. They were there so that Ivan could call people into his office and have... chats with them whenever they weren’t “living up to their potential,” as Ivan liked to phrase it. Often, these were meant to motivate his employees so that they wouldn’t fall below the threshold of tolerance and lose their jobs. Occasionally, however, Ivan had to fill the other chair with an HR representative, and let them know that wherever they ultimately lived up to their potential, it wouldn’t be with this company.

  “What’s the game plan for tonight, anyway?” Tori asked. “Do we get picked up by a mysterious car that floats around the city? Or is there a hidden teleporter somewhere in your house that we
use?”

  “I’m driving us there,” Ivan said, frowning at her attempts to discuss guild matters in public. Yes, his office was warded and soundproofed in ten different ways, but she didn’t know that.

  “Do we change here?” Tori looked around the room, scanning for some secret latch or hidden closet where they could don their costumes. Of course, since they’d still have to walk out to the parking lot, strutting around in those outfits would draw a lot of unnecessary attention.

  “We change there,” Ivan told her. “Masks go on once we enter the garage, and then there are changing stalls for us right inside the door. From that point on, the uniforms don’t leave until we do. Exceptions can be made for fittings and potty breaks, but the masks stay on no matter what.”

  “Did you just say ‘potty breaks’?”

  Ivan’s ears reddened, just a bit at the tips, and he turned back to his computer. “We are still in the workplace, and proper language should be utilized at all times.”

  “Uh huh.” Tori wasn’t entirely convinced, but she decided not to rib him too hard about it. They were, after all, about to walk into a building full of dangerous people. Pissing off the person she’d be looking to for guidance seemed like a risky move, even for Tori. “Why the mask emphasis, though? Do none of you know who the others are?”

  “Some of us do; others have managed to hide their identities from the majority. Full members of the guild can forgo wearing a mask inside headquarters, if they should so choose. As an apprentice, however, you are expected to be in mask at all times when on official business. It’s part of your training, learning to separate your identities.”

  “I’m with you; the mask marks the difference between Tori and Apprentice.”

  Ivan stood from his desk, reaching and grabbing the large briefcase resting beside one of the chairs. His apprentice was quick; many of the other initiates didn’t catch the symbolism until they’d made the transition a few times. He also knew that she’d been up late into the night practicing with the lighter. Though he hadn’t told her about them, the lighter had a few extra features built in. Along with the shocking apparatus, it also served as a GPS tracker, and it regularly broadcast data about its user to a server that only Ivan could access. That was how he knew that she’d shocked herself two hundred and thirty-two times after going to her apartment last night.

  In spite of himself, Ivan was beginning to grow fond of his apprentice. She could be surly and snarky when the mood suited her, but she was also serious about learning once she understood the need for it. The more time he spent with her, the more he hoped he wouldn’t ultimately have to kill her. The meeting would be a good testing point of that; if she could follow instructions and hold her own, there might just be hope for her yet. If, however, she made a serious error in front of the council, then Ivan would have no choice. It would fall on him to end her. That too was the responsibility of taking on an apprentice.

  “You brought your costume, right?” Ivan asked.

  “Stowed it in the trunk before we left this morning,” Tori said.

  “Good. Before we leave, you can dig out the mask. I’ll let you know when to put it on.” Ivan stepped forward and opened the door, ending their conversation of guild matters for the time being. He strode down the nearly empty hallway (Tori wasn’t the only one happy about the end of a work day) and headed for the elevators. Behind him, Tori matched his pace, refusing to be left behind.

  * * *

  Morgana checked over the conference room for the fifth time, making sure everything was neat and in order. Though she was a councilor and there were robots and underlings to attend to such tasks, Morgana still liked to double check their meeting spaces before the council actually gathered. It was her own little ritual to keep her nerves at bay, like Wade’s Sudoku or Ivan’s eating. Looking at the pushed-in seats, the tastefully arranged plates of food, and the immaculately clean room soothed her, allowed her to feel as though things were under control.

  That was a lie, obviously. Things were never truly under control in their world, and even less so when these seven people were in the same room together. Some were old friends, some loved each other like family, but a few had dislikes ranging from minor annoyances to outright grudges. That made seating important, as any buffer that could be put between certain parties minimized the chance of a meeting turning into outright war. With two exceptions, every person in the room was weak to another party’s abilities, so fights could theoretically be neutralized before they got out of hand. As any experienced villain knew, however, what was doable in theory and what happened in practice were often very different things.

  Morgana checked the seating position around the horseshoe-shaped conference table once more, certain all was in order. Gork was closest to the door, her chair the only one raised four feet off the ground and triple-reinforced to bear her considerable frame. Next to Gork was Xelas, since they were nearly inseparable friends. Gork’s calm demeanor also had a soothing influence on Xelas, and often kept the mechanical woman from instigating a quarrel with Balaam. Ivan would be on the other side of Xelas, and next to him would be Stasis. Stasis often liked to sit with Balaam, but they goaded one another on too often, so it was best to stick her near Ivan. No one was entirely certain if Ivan’s power could be the one thing to hurt Stasis, and thus far, she’d kept her nose clean enough not to find out. After Stasis would be Wade, who got along with everyone, and then Balaam, who trod on many of the older generation’s nerves. Last would be Morgana herself, taking the final seat in the horseshoe since Balaam would be offended by it and she trusted herself not to rise to his endless antagonism.

  It wasn’t perfect, but then again, neither was the council, so this would have to suffice. At least this time they had an important subject to deal with, which would ideally keep everyone focused. The general meetings were always the worst, since no one wanted to be there and often made that fact known by acting up. Dealing with a confluence, dangerous as it could be, was at least exciting: things might go wrong, lives may end up on the line, and there was always the scramble to snatch up the newest recruits before the AHC did, once things settled down.

  Morgana had a feeling that at least a few members would make some of those new rookies personal apprentices, once they were officially in the guild. Though nearly everyone would deny it, Ivan was still something of a trendsetter among the guild. Rumor had already spread that he’d taken a disciple, and many of the less-informed members were wondering why the other council members hadn’t been allowed to do the same. It didn’t matter that Ivan had done it as a favor to Wade, or that no one else had because the practice fell out of use for more pragmatic options. All that mattered was that some of the other seven felt that they were being compared to Ivan and coming up short, which was not something they could bear.

  She felt a bit sad for Ivan’s apprentice. He might be able to handle the weight of expectation and judgment on his shoulders, but Morgana feared it would break someone so new to the guild. There was nothing to be done for it, though.

  Morgana took one last look around the room, helped herself to one of the catered sandwiches, and left to go put on her proper costume.

  The meeting would be starting soon.

  * * *

  Tori hadn’t gotten to see the guild headquarters when she was there the first time around. She’d just been escorted by Doctor Mechaniacal to various training activities and testing areas in the pork plant throughout the day, and then ultimately led to her apartment-sized quarters in the evening. Occasionally, she would be brought before another individual in a full mask and costume, sometimes to talk and other times to showcase her skill, but for the most part, her tenure in standard training had been a solitary existence. At the time, she’d taken it as a precaution against her learning too much information, in case things didn’t work out. It was only after Ivan explained how close to the precipice she’d actually been that Tori realized the true reason she’d been kept alone: Doctor Mechaniacal didn’t w
ant anyone getting attached to her, in case she didn’t ultimately make the cut.

  It was a sobering thought she tried not to dwell on as she and Ivan walked down the long metal hallway leading out of the dressing rooms. She’d gotten to see her own outfit when she tried it on the previous night, but it was her first opportunity to see Ivan in costume. It was a far cry from his Fornax outfit, which had mostly been half-ripped clothes and a blood-red mask. These days, he wore a simple red-and-black costume with a mask that was all black, save for red trim around the eyes. It was so nondescript that she wondered how he managed to stand out among the other villains, then quickly realized he was trying to do exactly the opposite of that. He wanted to be unseen, unheard, and unknown as much as possible.

  “Hey, wait.” Tori stopped walking, and Ivan immediately halted as well.

  “Are you nervous?”

  “Huh? No, I got this shit,” Tori replied quickly. The worry in his voice had caught her off guard. She was used to casually indifferent Ivan; seeing him show her concern was a curveball she didn’t want to try and hit. “I actually just wanted to ask what I call you in here. You made a big deal about not using the F-X word, and I’m assuming you don’t go by your actual name, so how do I address you while we’re inside?”

  “You will address me as Teacher,” Ivan informed her, back to his usual authoritative tone. “However, should you need to know it, while in these walls, I am officially called Pseudonym.”

  Tori stared at him for a long moment, and then began slowly clapping her gloved hands together. “Woooooow. You must have really strained to come up with that one. I’d tip my mask to you, but, you know, that would break the rules about always having it on.”