West Pacific Supers: Rising Tide

by Johnson-Weider, K. M.

  Danny laughed. “Are you kidding? War stories are the best!”

  Seawolf smiled. With someone like Danny to mentor, the upcoming Season wasn’t sounding so bad.

  Chapter 4

  7:17 p.m., Sunday, March 24th, 2013

  Bradley Arena

  Milwaukee, WI

  Cosmic Kid took a can of A-Cola from the limousine’s mini-fridge and handed it across to his father, John Minor. The limousine was part of a line waiting to unload for the opening ceremonies of the 2013 Super Draft. They were pretty far back in the queue and the line was barely moving, but every foot closer deepened the pit in his stomach. The super teens ahead exited their limousines and posed for pictures, fielded questions from the superazzi, and interacted with the gathered fans. It was a circus, and most of the super teens were savoring the moment and working the crowd, which was throwing the whole schedule out of whack. Cosmic Kid didn’t fault them though, especially as he intended to ham it up as well; it was all part of the job and if the Super Channel hadn’t factored that in, well, that was their problem, though if his nerves didn’t settle down he might speed up his own entrance.

  “Thanks,” said John as he popped open the soda and took a drink. “I was so worried about having to pee I think I dehydrated myself… Wow, this is sweet!”

  “It’s carbonated, concentrated agave nectar,” said Cosmic Kid. He was looking forward to getting to the big leagues and being able to attract sponsors like Dr Pepper. In the meantime though, he had to take what he could get and brand loyalty was part of the package. “They do have bathrooms here, Dad,” he added with a smile. He was glad his father had agreed to come to the Super Draft.

  “I don’t want to miss anything! Though I’m still a little unsure about what’s happening tonight – this is just a publicity event, right?”

  “Yes, lots of pictures, a few fluff interviews, a silly parade, and then a concert,” said Cosmic Kid’s agent Stephen Murray, not bothering to look up from his HoloBerry. “It’s tacky as hell, but it gets good ratings.”

  “So no competitions or power trials?” asked John.

  “Yup, the exciting stuff takes place over the next few days before the actual Super Draft on Saturday,” said Cosmic Kid, adjusting his ultimesh costume a little. It was dark maroon with gold and black highlights and was perfect for heroics, but not the most comfortable for sitting in a limousine for over an hour.

  “Good way to start. You’re a natural with this stuff,” said John proudly.

  “I guess,” said Cosmic Kid grimly. A month ago he would have rode into Milwaukee cocky and confident, but it had been a rough month. He had faced off against Seneschal X, one of the worst supervillains out there, and it hadn’t gone well, though super teens weren’t supposed to face off against supervillains. People had died and Seneschal X had escaped. Since then nothing had gone right for him.

  “So is everyone here from teen teams?” asked John.

  “Mostly,” said Cosmic Kid. “Each teen team can send up to two supers who are 18 or older, like me, and then the League holds open tryouts to add additional draftees. The Super Draft is the only way someone under 21 can join a League team, and really teams don’t hire anyone under 25 unless they go through the Draft. This year there are 32 teams in the first round, and 15 in the second round, with 68 super teens fighting for one of the 47 spots.”

  “And the higher the pick, the more money you make?” asked John.

  “Not necessarily,” said Stephen, looking up as money was mentioned. “When a team has a pick they make an offer to a super and that super can say yea or nay. When a team announces a pick, they may have gone through a few supers, ‘til they found one who would take them. That’s especially true for bottom-tier teams with high picks; they just can’t pay top dollar for the best super teens.”

  “You’re top-tiered,” said John.

  “Supposedly. I’ll probably be picked in the top ten and make $5 million a year,” added Cosmic Kid. “So if a team with a high pick wants me, they have to be able to afford me. For some teams $5 million is more than they spend on their entire team salary. Of course, if none of the top-tier teams want me, then I might have to drop my salary and go to Wichita or Burlington.”

  “Not happening,” said Stephen decisively. “You’re going at #3, Tampa Bay wants you, and we’ll be aiming for a salary closer to $10 million.”

  “It’s incredible when you think about it. You’ll make more in a year than I will in a lifetime with Cosmic Burger, probably five lifetimes,” said John with a chuckle.

  “Yeah, I guess that’s true,” said Cosmic Kid guiltily.

  “Relax, Patrick, I manage a fast-food restaurant and you save the world – you don’t need super powers to flip burgers.”

  “If someone is willing to pay you an outrageous salary, then you deserve that outrageous salary – super powers or not,” said Stephen.

  “Fools and their money, right?” said John.

  “No, it’s capitalism at its best,” said Stephen. “Cosmic Kid will get a big payout because he has the skills to be a successful superhero. He also has a strong fan base and handles publicity well. He’s the complete deal and teams value that, because they get someone who makes their team more effective and profitable. From sponsorships and merchandising, the team that signs Cosmic Kid will get three to five times their investment, just in the first year.”

  “I guess, but it is a lot of money,” said Cosmic Kid. “I often think about how many police officers my salary would pay for – two hundred, three hundred. I may be good, but I know I’m not worth hundreds of police officers.”

  “The team is separate from the city, so it’s apples and oranges,” said Stephen. “The police are great, but when it comes to supervillains or alien invasions it’s the supers who save the day and you can’t put a price tag on that.”

  “Sure you can, I hear it’s $10 million,” quipped John. “Honestly, Patrick, you deserve the money. You’ve worked hard with Teen Ultimate and are a natural at being a superhero. Your mother would be very proud of you, and she would tell you to have Stephen rake them over the coals to get as much money as possible. At the least, we need to support Stephen’s extravagant lifestyle.”

  “Dad, don’t pick on poor Stephen,” said Cosmic Kid with a smile.

  “Mr. Minor, my commission is based on results,” said Stephen. “If you let me renegotiate your contract with Cosmic Burger, I could get you a 50-percent raise.”

  “Fast food managers don’t have agents,” chuckled Mr. Minor.

  “And that’s why they don’t make $10 million,” said Stephen, returning his attention to his HoloBerry. The three of them fell silent again and waited for the limousine to move closer to the front entrance. The Bradley Arena loomed over them and they were closing in steadily on the end of the line.

  “What do you think Mom would say to me right now?” asked Cosmic Kid, breaking the silence.

  John looked out the window thoughtfully and smiled. “She would say ‘whatever the hell you do in life, don’t slip on the ice when you get out of the limo’.”

  Stephen looked out the window and nodded, “your mom has a point.”

  “That’s how you get into the news cycle,” said Cosmic Kid with a laugh.

  “You say that now, but it’s not what we want up on YouTube for the world to see,” said Stephen.

  “It’s not the fall, but how you get up that matters. If I fall, I get up, laugh, and toss out some quip, like ‘I can now confirm that gravity is the same in Milwaukee as Cosmopolis’. Everyone laughs at the lame joke and all is well,” said Cosmic Kid.

  “I guess, but let’s not fall,” said Stephen.

  “Sure thing.” Cosmic Kid looked outside at the approaching entrance, the crowds of fans, and swarming superazzi. From the limousine in front of them a thin young woman with pale skin and a black flowing costume exited. “Epiphany’s getting out ahead of us.”

  “Epiphany… ,” said Stephen checking his HoloBerry which
was projecting a holographic screen only visible to Stephen at this angle, but Cosmic Kid could imagine how it was configured to display all the key draftees. “She is out of Houston’s teen team, a psychic, pretty powerful, projected to go at #9 to Baltimore,” said Stephen, who sounded pleased with himself.

  “Yes, she also loves lilies, has three poodles named after characters from Shakespeare plays, is a member of PETA, and her big vice is donuts, but that’s the same vice for all psychics,” said Cosmic Kid coolly.

  “How do you know this stuff?” asked Stephen incredulously.

  “Superlative magazine has run several articles about all the draftees the last few months.”

  “Oh, yeah, I think I saw that,” mumbled Stephen. “Have you met her before?”

  “No, well, I talked to her like 30 seconds at a Super Teen United event last year, we were raising money to fight world hunger, but we didn’t really hit it off.”

  “Psychics like donuts?” asked John.

  “Yeah, supposedly the fat in them or something agitates brain cells tied to psychic powers. You put a box of donuts in front of a psychic and they just can’t stop,” said Cosmic Kid.

  “You’re kidding,” said John.

  “No, completely serious, psychics love donuts – it’s weird.”

  He turned his attention to Epiphany and saw that she was struggling. She looked wooden and agitated with the superazzi and fans. He realized quickly what the problem was: she was being overloaded by the mental energy. Psychics didn’t like crowds. You’re doing great, he thought. He figured he might as well try to add a positive thought to the mental noise, though he doubted she would pick it up. Etiquette dictated that they wait to unload until Epiphany disengaged from the crowd and started heading into the building, but he could see the superazzi smelled blood and were pressuring her with questions and more pictures of her dazed look. It was unfair, but this was the superazzi and it was their job.

  “Let’s get out now,” said Cosmic Kid.

  “Okay,” said Stephen cautiously as he started collecting the papers he had piled on the empty seat across from him. Stephen tapped on the glass to notify Isaac, Cosmic Kid’s new, and hapless, assistant sitting up in the driver’s section, to get the door.

  “Time to get this show on the road!” said Cosmic Kid. Stephen was the first to exit and then Cosmic Kid and his dad followed him out with Isaac. Like a swarm of piranha, the superazzi turned from Epiphany and focused on Cosmic Kid. He was hit by a wave of camera flashes. There was also a loud roar from the hundreds of fans cordoned off behind lines. Cosmic Kid did a few poses for the cameras. He made especially sure that his new Penumbra wrist watch was visible. He had just signed the contract and now Penumbra was the only watch he could wear in public. It wasn’t Tag Heuer - in fact, his first Penumbra watch had stopped after he wore it in the shower - but it was his sponsor, and he intended that they got their money’s worth.

  He heard in his mind, thanks. He looked up and saw a relieved Epiphany heading into the building still looking somewhat dazed. The superazzi started yelling questions at him and he focused on terse evasive answers. Usually, he was friendlier with the press, but lately they had been gunning for him and it was making him defensive. Most of the questions were predictable. Why did you and Elle Solstice break up? What’s your relationship with Danny Chase? What do you think of the Captain Pliable arrest? Have you recovered from your fight with Seneschal X? Are we going to see the Cosmic Blast? Is it true that Tampa Bay is going to pick you? Nothing too surprising, but he quickly disengaged from the superazzi before they asked harder questions. He had more important things to do.

  His mutant eyes scanned the crowds of fans for the group from Cosmickid.com, his biggest fansite. He had a near photographic memory and used it ruthlessly at publicity events. Evelyn, the moderator of the site, was here. She was a pudgy woman in her late twenties, but on the Internet she was the personification of perky and worth her weight in gold. Of course, Cosmic Kid knew better than to get too friendly with his fanatical fans; supers were as likely to be killed by a fan as a supervillain, which was wonderfully ironic. However, at these sorts of events it was best to reward the long-suffering fans who had waited hours just for a chance to see him.

  “Evelyn!” called out Cosmic Kid, heading to her as he was being followed by the superazzi. As usual, Evelyn began to tear up, but pulled herself together enough to begin introducing people. He turned and looked for Isaac. Isaac scrambled forward carrying various satchels loaded with autographed pictures and other gifts for the fans – including the new Cosmic Kid action figure.

  “I just want to say that I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for all of you,” said Cosmic Kid with complete sincerity. He loved his fans. They believed in him. Yeah, it was hero worship, herd mentality, or whatever, but he also knew that at the end of the day they saw in him the superhero that he wanted to be. He wasn’t there yet, but it helped having people who saw in him that sort of potential. True, most of the girls here really just wanted to sleep with him, but he had to admit he was good-looking and his fans had taste.

  The superazzi suddenly disengaged, except for a few who remained taking pictures of his interactions with the fans. Cosmic Kid glanced back and saw that Paradigm Shift had exited his limousine early.

  “Asshole,” said Evelyn angrily. Cosmic Kid couldn’t help but smile. Yes, there was tension between him and Paradigm Shift, but their fans had turned it into a feud, almost a holy war.

  “Isaac, hand out the goodies! Evelyn, we’re doing the interview for the site tomorrow morning at 8, right?” asked Cosmic Kid. Evelyn turned back to Cosmic Kid and nodded nervously, mumbling an affirmative between giddy giggles and tears. Isaac started handing out signed pictures, action figures, and some other endorsement materials; Cosmic Kid wasn’t exactly sure what was in the goody bags. However, this allowed him a graceful exit. “Alright, wish me luck! It’s show time!”

  He waved to his fans, pausing to pose for a few last pictures, and then moved quickly along the line shaking hands, signing a few autographs, and giving hugs to more exuberant fans. However, he wasn’t fast enough and Paradigm Shift caught up with him.

  “Kid, come on let’s give them some pictures of the #1 and #3 picks,” said Paradigm Shift grabbing his arm and turning him towards the cameras. There was nothing to do. Cosmic Kid smiled, though it was a forced smile, and posed with Paradigm Shift.

  “So, Shifty, you seem a little impatient tonight,” said Cosmic Kid.

  “Hey, you rushed Epiphany so I figured it was fair for me to rush you,” said Paradigm Shift.

  “Right… so you worried they’re going to start primetime coverage without you?”

  “Hardly, I’m the #1 pick, the show doesn’t start till I arrive.”

  “Then we shouldn’t keep the world waiting.” Cosmic Kid gestured for Paradigm Shift to lead the way into the building. The reporters and fans were watching the exchange closely as this was the stuff everyone loved. Cameras were flashing and everything was being recorded.

  “Sounds like a plan, Kid,” said Paradigm Shift, heading into the building with Cosmic Kid following behind.

  Once inside, the Super Draft handlers pointed them in two different directions for the detailed interviews by Supers Weekly. The interviews were being held at two ends of the lobby where the walls had been covered with the logos of the Super League teams. Paradigm Shift was directed to where Girl Ninja was being questioned by Soft Ball Becky Chou and Cosmic Kid was directed to where Epiphany was being questioned by Robin Traverse, the host of Supers Weekly and one of the most vicious interviewers in the Industry. Cosmic Kid always wondered how a former superhero could be such a bitch to other superheroes, but Robin Traverse was a legend, a household name, and a nightmare for the superheroes that went on her show.

  “Shit,” muttered Stephen, catching up to him as they watched Robin Traverse ask Epiphany about the rumors that she had been checked into a mental ward after the death of her boyfriend.
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  “It’s okay, I’ve been interviewed by Robin before,” said Cosmic Kid derisively. “Don’t worry. No matter what Robin asks me, we’ll have Evelyn’s blog, which she’ll probably do from that McDonald’s down the block in an hour. It’ll get 25,000 hits by tomorrow noon and be posted across the Internet at all the major superhero sites by six o’clock.”

  “Yes, but that’s among existing fans, you need to broaden your base and that means talking to mainstream media, though I wish we had Soft Ball Becky,” said Stephen.

  “Nothing’s more mainstream than Robin Traverse. But a lot of my fans drove from Cosmopolis or farther just to see me before the Super Draft; that sort of loyalty is worth a lot.”

  “Fan bases for super teens don’t necessarily convert over when you join a team,” said Stephen. “You need to remember the big picture.”

  “The reason they don’t convert is that most supers abandon their old fans when they move up to the big leagues. Did you know, Stephen, that if you have a positive personal reaction with a fan once then that is a fan for life?”

  “Perhaps, but you don’t have time to hug a few hundred thousand people for an appropriately sized fan base.”

  “Touché, touché,” said Cosmic Kid, followed by a sigh, as Epiphany moved past Robin Traverse a little shaken, and now it was his turn.