West Pacific Supers: Rising Tide

by Johnson-Weider, K. M.

  “You’re mad,” said Cosmic Kid.

  “I prefer genius, but whatever, the fact is that this team is one of the best simply because they are better trained than anyone else in the Industry. I will also say that you lucked out today, Cosmic Kid, because of the girl. She was your canary in the coal mine,” said Dr. Sterling.

  “People aren’t canaries,” Blue Star glowered.

  “Obviously it was an analogy, but there was no serious harm done, the girl is recovering fine and was in no real danger.”

  “What if she had opened the hatch to the elevator?” asked Cosmic Kid.

  “She would have been fine, the robotic arm responded to the transponder in your costume,” said Dr. Sterling with a bored sigh.

  “I don’t think we should have training sessions in the building where staff are,” said Blue Star.

  “Certainly, we can go to the training room and pretend really hard it is a realistic situation, that’s what most teams do, but in that case why don’t I just have the team watch the Super Channel for their training,” said Dr. Sterling with a note of annoyance.

  “It might be safer for the civilians,” said Cosmic Kid.

  “Life isn’t about safety, it’s about living. The training sessions will continue as I design and plan them; if you wish to change that then get Dr. Hodges to order me to do so,” said Dr. Sterling, returning to her computer.

  “I’m the team leader, I should have a say in this,” snapped Blue Star.

  “Yes, however, I am the operations director and my salary is actually higher than either of yours, and in the United States that means the two of you can just stuff it. I will be reviewing the training session in two hours with the team. I expect both of you to be present for the discussion.”

  “I’m going to talk to Dr. Hodges about this,” Blue Star said as he left the room.

  Cosmic Kid stood there a second shaking his head. “Genius and madness often get blurred.”

  “That’s because they are one and the same, but I will say you got bonus points for taking the girl to the infirmary,” said Dr. Sterling. “Protecting the innocent is always the first priority.”

  Cosmic Kid was silent. He didn’t know what to say about that; what the hell did bonus points really matter. Maybe that was the point. He turned and left and decided to go check on Emily; there was nothing else to say to Dr. Sterling.

  “So how was your first day?” asked John Minor, who was spreading out Chinese takeout on the table in the hotel suite.

  “Horrific,” said Cosmic Kid, dropping down into his chair. “How about property shopping?”

  “We found a few locations that might work for the restaurant but I think you need to take the lead on the house,” said John. “I just stood around slack-jawed in the two big houses we looked at.”

  “How’s the realtor?”

  “Good enough, I guess.”

  “Good enough… then we try a different one; seriously, Dad for what we’re willing to spend you should have a realtor you actually like.”

  “Yeah, but if you were fired today the realtor will probably drop us first.”

  “No, I wasn’t fired but I made an ass of myself and I think Dr. Sterling, the Operations Director, hates me.”

  “No one hates you, Patrick, though she may dislike you.”

  “That makes me feel better.”

  “If you want everyone to like you then you’ll have a life of disappointment, but from my experience proximity breeds tolerance. I’ve worked with people I’ve really disliked but after a few months you come to tolerate them and sometimes even like them.”

  “I guess so. But Blue Star also doesn’t like me and I think most of the team feels the same way.”

  “Maybe, you’re the young hot shot – there’s bound to be some jealousy.”

  “You’re making me feel even worse. I think you’re supposed to tell me I’m imagining things.”

  “You rarely imagine things, Patrick, but first impressions are usually mistaken impressions. I bet you also don’t like Dr. Sterling or Blue Star.”

  “Well, they both were riding me a lot today it seemed.”

  “Of course, you’re the least experienced and the one with the biggest ego, I would be riding you hard as well. They’re trying to help you in their own way.”

  “I guess you’re right. I think Starfish has an even bigger ego than me.”

  “Big egos are always covers, Patrick, for you, for Starfish, and probably Dr. Sterling and Blue Star. Though in the case of Stephen, I think his ego is genuine, and he’s flying out next week to check on everything.”

  “Good… I’m glad you’re here, Dad, because I do feel sort of isolated.”

  “You probably are. So, any cute girls with the team?”

  “One, but I ended up getting her sent to the clinic.”

  “You made quite a first impression today!”

  “Yes, unfortunately I did.”

  Chapter 11

  1:13 p.m., Friday, April 5th, 2013

  Press Room, WPS HQ

  West Pacific, CA

  “Different opponents have different styles. They can, they will, come at you when you least expect it. My job is to prepare you to face anyone at any time and still come out the victor.” The young woman at the podium looked sharp in her well-cut suit and spiked heels but Blue Star couldn’t help snorting.

  “Opponents? We’re talking about the press here, right?”

  Gabrielle Fox scowled down at him. “We’re talking about the superazzi and they are the most devious, the most relentless opponents you will ever face. Moreover, you are totally unprepared to face them. We don’t need to teach you how to track criminals, thwart supervillains, or use your powers – you’ve got decades of experience handling that. But the modern superazzi will eat you up and fling you back to Portland unless you’re up to speed and prepared for their tricks.”

  Blue Star had been reluctant to agree to this PR remedial, though he had to admit that Gabrielle was the hottest woman on staff. She was wound tight though and the definition of melodrama. “Seriously,” he said. “I’ve been handling the superazzi since before Robin Traverse got a TV show. Hell, I dated Robin Traverse before she got a TV show.”

  Gabrielle flashed a scary smile. “Well, that’s not exactly a mark of distinction, is it?” She grabbed a remote and activated the overhead projector to show a magnified view of the team website. She clicked rapidly over to the West Pacific Supers fan forums, then scrolled down to highlight most active threads.

  “Ah ha!” she cried triumphantly. “Blue Star Love Train. Look at that - 117 posts since yesterday, including - oh yeah, photos!”

  Blue Star leaned forward in surprise as Gabrielle clicked gleefully on a series of links: Blue Star in his Paragon costume standing next to Lady Titan, Blue Star in his Infinity Team costume doing a flying pose with Skyfire, Blue Star with a really bad haircut up on stage with Lady Liberty wearing some star-spangled ensemble, Blue Star standing next to a crashed Vanghel starship with Aurora in a sealskin dress, Blue Star at the gym working out half-naked… .

  “What the hell?” He practically jumped out of his seat. “Where did they get that shot?!”

  “Computer composite.” Gabrielle smirked at his reaction. “I doubt you exercise with your shirt off while wearing the torso of Hot Shot of the High Rollers.” She gestured with a laser pointer. “See, right here the skin tone doesn’t quite match. Not bad for a fan job, though quite frankly there’s no way at your age that you’ve got those abs.”

  Blue Star sat back down, frowning. “I’m not that old. You’ll take those down, right?”

  “Take it down!” Gabrielle cried in mock dismay. “Why no, no, no, my overly amorous senior citizen. We like that kind of publicity. It’s harmless, fan-driven fun that brings people to the site and sells WPS merchandise. Maybe we can get the boys down in marketing to whip up a new line: Blue Star: Putting Criminals and Crushes on Ice. Don’t like it? Don’t worry - advertising isn’t my
thing. Whatever marketing comes up with will be twice as corny and sell like the second coming of Lady Liberty. No, what we don’t want is what we have over here,” she continued, clicking more buttons and flipping through web pages so fast that Blue Star’s head spun. He should have brought his glasses; these new contacts made his eyes strain.

  “Supervillains Gear Up for Easy Pickings in West Pacific,” she read. “Keystone weighs his options as West Pacific Supers still reeling from losses, reveals team insider. See, this is the sort of thing that superazzi love.” Her voice changed to a sing-song: “Let’s hijack your perfectly planned press conference, Gabrielle, with our endless questions about how the team is imploding due to deaths, petty jealousies, and endless contract negotiations.” She sighed. “My entire focus as Public Affairs Director is to keep the team on message. And that message is that we are a happy shiny family who may have our little disagreements and challenges, but who, at the end of the day, will all pull together to save the city from the bad guys. That’s the message to get us to #1 in the West Coast Conference.”

  It was Blue Star’s turn to smirk. “Well, then, I guess you’ve got your work cut out for you, because we’re #6 and there’s no way we’ll knock out Golden Gate, Firebirds, or High Rollers at the top of the Conference. I tell you what: I’ll focus on getting the team up to speed on the heroics and you spin the superazzi to get us to #4. Sound good?” He started to get up.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Gabrielle glowered at him. “Damn straight, I’ve got my work cut out for me, and unlike you I’m not willing to settle for fourth place, which is why I need 200 percent from every member I’ve got in the game. And leadership starts at the top. Unless the team leader is taking public relations seriously, no one else is going to. If you and Dr. Sterling can force the team through hours of drills, you can sure as hell give me 30 minutes of mock press time. So are you with me?”

  “Fine,” said Blue Star, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “Have at it, I’m listening.”

  “Listening my ass,” said Gabrielle, switching off the projector and walking off the stage. She had good legs and she moved gracefully; a woman had to get used to heels that high, Blue Star thought. “Being a superhero isn’t about listening,” she continued. “It’s about doing. Up you go.”

  “Up where?” said Blue Star, trying to focus on what she was saying rather than what she was wearing.

  “Up where?” mocked Gabrielle. “I don’t know how you Portland Legends handle press conferences, but we do ours from behind a podium.” He narrowed his eyes at her and didn’t move. She made a shooing gesture at him. “Go, go!”

  He got up reluctantly and headed for the stage, feeling strangely exposed. He hated press conferences. The Legends didn’t have press conferences; they did one-on-one interviews with reporters, a more intimate arrangement, especially with Susan, than this full-court-press approach. Not to mention that Gabrielle’s melodrama was seriously starting to grate on his nerves.

  “Behind the podium!” she called out from the second row, where she had taken a seat, her legs crossed with a legal pad balanced on one tan knee.

  Blue Star stood awkwardly, having flashbacks to his first press conference with the Paragons, years ago. It had started fine, and then for reasons he’d never been able to figure out, it had spiraled out of control. He still suspected it was a supervillain, a psychic or wizard probably, manipulating the situation. No one had ever been responsible for a brawl in the press room before. He had been suspended from PR work for three months.

  “Hey, old guy, down here!” yelled Gabrielle. Apparently she had been talking and he’d missed something. He looked out and saw that Gabrielle had raised one hand, as if seeking permission to speak. He narrowed his eyes at her.

  “Yeah, you got a question?” snapped Blue Star.

  Gabrielle scowled. “Okay, I know you don’t like the press, but at least try to be civil. Our job is to make a connection on our terms. You’re got to make an effort. Try again. If you can’t sound nice, just point this time; yes, I know your parents taught you not to point at people but these aren’t people out here, they’re reporters. Come on.”

  She raised her hand again and he pointed at her.

  “Wow, okay, hi, I’m like Frannie Fanatic and I just wanted to say that we are so excited to have you here in West Pacific! My mom is like your biggest fan!” Gabrielle squealed. The Valley Girl accent was so perfect it was hard to believe she was the same person. “I didn’t know you were still alive and then here you are in person! So what can you tell us about yourself? Any hobbies? Are you looking for a fourth wife?”

  Blue Star frowned. “Enough with the age cracks, alright? No reporters ask questions like that.”

  “The age of reporters is coming to an end,” Gabrielle responded. “Bloggers are the present and the future, and that means dealing with Joe Public and Susie Clueless, both of whom have more devoted readers than the New York Times. So yes, you do need to be prepared to answer questions like that.”

  “I don’t have conversations with idiots,” Blue Star said, preparing to leave the stage.

  “Damn it, Blue Star!” yelled Gabrielle, standing and walking back up towards him. “I know what I’m doing here! Either you let me do my job and learn something in the process, or I’m quitting as PR director!”

  Blue Star shook his head. He hated threats almost as much as he hated dealing with the media. “You’re not going to quit, so cut the bullshit. This sort of mock press stunt may work with the kids, but I’ve been in the business for over 40 years, as you like to point out, so either give me the respect I deserve or shut up.”

  Gabrielle took a deep breath and shivered. Blue Star realized that when he’d gotten angry he’d probably dropped the temperature in the room; it was an old habit that he’d never been able to break.

  “Look,” she said, “this isn’t going well and it’s probably my fault. But I’m really trying to help you here. If you can’t keep it together in a mock press conference in a room with just the two of us, God only know what will happen if you ever get seriously accosted by the superazzi. You aren’t in Portland anymore. West Pacific loves its superheroes and that means that the media will get in your face.”

  “Believe me, if anyone gets in my face, I know how to handle it.”

  Gabrielle groaned. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about! I don’t expect you to do witty banter like Cosmic Kid, but you’ve at least got to be able to converse politely and disengage peacefully. And that’s at a minimum. Honestly, as team leader you’re going to be dealing with the public a lot. Mr. Awesome is a tough act to follow in that regard, because he was beloved in the city and he knew how to handle both fans and critics. The media is not going to be easy on you.”

  Blue Star sighed. She had a point. “I’ve always had a rough time with the press,” he told her. “I’ve tried lots of different techniques, but now I just try to be myself. Either they like it, or they don’t, but I try not to worry about it either way.”

  “I can help you, if you’ll let me,” Gabrielle said.

  “If I need help, I’ll ask.” Blue Star nodded curtly and headed out of the press room. He had a lot more important things to worry about.

  Chapter 12

  4:09 p.m., Friday, April 5th, 2013

  Dynamic Solutions Center

  Cosmopolis, IA

  Dr. Brandeis was quite excited: he was taking part in a super heist. The focus of the heist was the quantum harmonic resonance array, or QHRA, which Dynamic Solutions and Consolidated Technologies were producing for the United Nations Space Defence Corps as part of AEGIS, a proposed orbital defense network to fend off alien and astronomical threats to Earth. It was a massive boondoggle. The QHRA was an attempt to reverse-engineer one of the most powerful Vanghel weapons that had been used in the Invasion. It could disrupt and agitate molecular structures on a grand scale. The city of Rome had been obliterated by such a weapon and unlike nuclear weapons, ther
e was very little radiation left over as an aftereffect. If the QHRA functioned properly, and initial tests had been positive, it would make the Plan viable. Of course, there was the power problem, but they were making progress on salvaging a Vanghel reactor to power it. The only reason they had a shot at stealing the QHRA was that Ian was chairman of the board of directors of Dynamic Solutions. The beauty of the plan was that the government, specifically UNSDC, was footing the bill for building it. The problem was that Ian actually had to steal the device from his own company in order to use it for the Plan. It was a topsy-turvy world.

  Dr. Brandeis had only recently realized that maybe Ian was planning on using the QHRA as a weapon, but that really wasn’t much of a worry for him. More concerning was that if he was caught it would not only end his career, but send him to prison for at least five to ten years. Thus he had an added incentive to make sure the heist was successful.

  They were in Cosmopolis, Iowa. It was considered the center of high-tech research for the nation, but it was just as famous for its movie studios and the ruins of the Vanghel city that the aliens built here back during the Invasion. The QHRA was currently housed in Dynamic Solutions’ research center in the suburb of Crystal Heights and security was tight. Yes, the team had the layout, codes, and full access to the facility, but if they used that information then the subsequent investigation would know it was an inside job. So what they had to do was pretend they didn’t have that information in planning the operation. It sort of made Dr. Brandeis’ head spin thinking about it.