“Not as much as you’d think. Back when I was married, I hardly did any cooking, but after being a bachelor for, oh, 12 years now, I’ve come to really enjoy it.”
She got a strange sensation in her stomach when he mentioned being married. “Any kids?” she asked, trying to keep her voice level.
“No, we weren’t married long. I got stationed on the West Coast and she didn’t like it out here. She went back to her folks for the holidays and hooked up with the guy she’d dated before we started going out. I actually ran into them at my high school reunion a few years ago. They stayed together, have a couple kids now. How about you? Ever married or have kids?”
“No,” she said quickly. She hated the thought of this woman who had been married to Paul; hated the fact that she’d left him, hated the fact that she’d married him in the first place. She had never felt so intensely jealous in her life. Paul was smiling at her and she flushed. “So are you back at work then?”
He nodded. “I’m on light duties until I get this thing off, which should be in another couple weeks. How about you?”
“I’m mostly healed, though I’m not back to my normal swim schedule yet. Dr. Gavriel says I’ll be in physical therapy until the end of the month.”
“We should go out and celebrate when we’re both healthy again. No, not dinner or anything – I’ve learned that lesson – but we can go out on my boat. You’d like that,” he said confidently. “You like being out on the water; I saw that when we were out on the MLB. I’ve got a 19’ Bayliner called Fresh Start. I’m not much of a sailor but I love to fish. There’s some great spots around here. Usually it’s just me and the dogs, so I’ll have to clean her up a bit before you come on board. I’ve been looking forward to taking you out.” He took a drink and smiled at Seawolf and she couldn’t help smiling back. The thought of being back out on the water with him was heavenly.
“What kind of dogs do you have?”
“Black labs, great animals. They’ll love you, don’t worry.”
“I wasn’t worried.”
“You should be! I mean, sure I’m crazy about you, but dogs are more discerning judges of character.”
She didn’t know how to respond and then she realized that he was teasing her and her face got hot.
“Seriously,” he said, “the dogs are my closest family geographically speaking. Everyone else is still back in Michigan - my mom and my sister and her family. I usually go out there for Thanksgiving, but otherwise it’s just me and the dogs. What about you? Any family?”
The question was unexpected and Seawolf was engulfed by a tidal wave of painful memories. Her father had died back when she was in college. Her mother hadn’t shown up in the obituaries yet, and as far as she knew, the same was true for her sister and two younger brothers. But to call them family…
“I don’t have any family,” she snapped. “Only relatives.” She stood up abruptly, her chair scraping angrily across the stone floor.
Paul looked stricken. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”
“I have to go check something.” Seawolf stalked out to the kitchen, where she stood at the counter fighting back tears. Why did she have to take everything so personally? Dinner had been going really well and now she’d ruined it. She took ragged breaths, holding her arms tight around herself. She had worked so hard to package her entire life - all of her memories and emotions - into little boxes with locked lids. And then Paul waltzed in and wanted to poke around in the contents. What would happen if things got mixed up?
She heard Paul struggle to get up from the table, and then walk slowly into the kitchen. “There you are,” he said, sounding worried. “I don’t even know what I said… well, I can guess, but…”
She flung herself at him, almost knocking him over, her mouth searching hungrily for his, her hands running up his body. She felt feral and fierce and desperately hormonal, she wanted to pick him up and take him right there on the kitchen counter - and then just as quickly as the impulse had hit her it was over and she was pushing him away. Paul looked bewildered.
“Seawolf, I have no idea what’s going on,” he said. His shirt was disheveled from where she had pulled it up and his face was red and sweaty. “One moment things are going well and then they’re not and then… ” He shook his head.
“I know.” It was all too much.
He waited expectantly for her to say something more, but she was too emotionally spent to figure out what else to say. “I’m really trying here,” he finally told her. “But if you don’t help me out a little, I’m just going to keep stumbling along setting off landmines.”
“I know.” Maybe she was just too old to be trying to start up a real relationship.
“So, should we finish dinner then?” Paul asked.
She nodded.
Everything felt awkward now. Paul tried to keep up light conversation, something about the weather or tides, but he was clearly nervous and she wasn’t really following. More than once she realized she had glazed over and had no idea what he had just said. Eventually he gave up and there was silence.
After they finished eating, Paul washed dishes while Seawolf dried and put everything back where it belonged. She needed to say something, to explain why this was so difficult, how unlikely it was to ever work out, and yet also how much she wanted to keep trying. But how could she tell him that she was damaged goods yet she wanted him to love her anyway? Almost before she knew it, everything was put away and they were standing at the door, caught in another awkward silence.
“So, Seawolf, see you next week then?” he finally asked. It sounded off-handed, but he was clearly anxious waiting for her response. She had to say something more than just ‘yes’, she had to tell him how she felt; her heart was racing. She muttered something and he shook his head. “I couldn’t hear that - what did you say?”
“Rachel,” she repeated, gesturing at herself.
His eyes went wide for a moment and then his face relaxed. “Rachel,” he said, leaning forward to kiss her on the cheek. “Next week then, Rachel.” He smiled and let himself out.
She locked the door behind him and sank back down into the couch, inhaling what remained of his scent in the room. It was slightly salty and sweet, like onions, she thought. As soon as she could stand again, she would go take a long swim. To hell with Dr. Gavriel. She’d never felt better in her life.
Chapter 47
9:31 p.m., Sunday, November 10th, 2013
Omni San Diego Hotel
San Diego, CA
Blue Star was with Cosmic Kid in San Diego for the West Coast Conference’s annual awards ceremony. Stacey Noble, the interim PR director, was chaperoning, and Cosmic Kid had brought his dad, John Minor, as his guest. Since the team had a table with eight seats for the event they had also allowed Cosmic Kid’s agent Stephen Murray and his date, an attractive young blonde named Veronica, to sit with them. The winners at this ceremony would be going to Dallas next month for the national awards and title ceremony, which would be broadcast primetime across the nation on NBC. The four regional ceremonies were only being covered on the Super Channel, though of course fans could also watch streaming video on the Internet.
Cosmic Kid had been nominated for Best Rookie of the Year. It was the only award that West Pacific Supers was in contention for, though Blue Star figured it was one that they were guaranteed to win. With all the disasters of the Season, West Pacific Supers was ending up where it had started at #6 in the West Coast Conference, which definitely was not the stuff that awards were made of. #1 was going to Golden Gate Heroes and word was Faust had one of his famed condescending acceptance speeches at the ready to end the night on a low note.
“Some young girl just hit on me at the bar,” said John as he returned to the table with a Diet Dr Pepper. “She thought I was a guy named Hogan Landers.”
“He’s a famous operations director on the East Coast, with the League of Steel I think,” said Cosmic Kid.
“You don’t look anything
like him,” laughed Blue Star. “So did you tell her you weren’t Hogan?”
“Yeah,” said John. “She lost interest real quick when she learned I just run a Cosmic Burger franchise.”
“Kid, I see where you get it from,” said Blue Star, shaking his head. “John, you should have played along with her. If anything like that happens again, just send me a message by HoloBerry and we’ll all start calling you Hogan.”
“That’s horrible,” said Stacey. “It’s not nice to lie to some poor girl.”
“If a girl mistakes you for someone famous then you have the right to take advantage of it,” said Stephen.
“What? You mean you aren’t really President Carlington!” said Veronica in mock indignation. Everyone laughed, perhaps a little too enthusiastically as Nautilus at the nearby San Diego Supers table, coughed loudly and gave them all a stern look.
“Yeah, but what if you actually start to like the girl and your whole relationship is based on a lie?” asked Cosmic Kid.
“If you like a gold digger like that, your judgment is suspect to begin with,” said Blue Star.
“How do you know she’s a gold digger and not just a big fan?” asked Stacey.
“A big fan isn’t going to misidentify the object of their obsession,” said Blue Star.
“True,” agreed Stephen.
“Anyway,” said Cosmic Kid, “what’s the prognosis on the criminal charges for our bad guys this year?”
Blue Star frowned. “Dr. Brandeis was going to testify against Roache and the Governor, but he escaped from prison. Regardless Roache and the Governor are likely to be convicted. Dr. Wraith, Fortina Knox, Fade Out, Kill O’Watts, and Ian’s psychic are in ultimax and awaiting trial.”
“What about the minions?” Cosmic Kid asked.
“Most have plea bargained, claiming they were just hired for security work; they’ll probably spend a few months in jail and then get released.” Blue Star shrugged. “California’s prisons are overcrowded and the State budget is broke, so that works in their favor. Dynamic Solutions is being sued, but its board of directors is trying to salvage the situation by claiming that Roache defrauded the company, which is sort of true. However, the company lost billions and may be broken up. As for Starfish’s pets, a lot escaped into the wild. Seawolf’s leading the Coast Guard’s effort to round them up. If we’re lucky, we’ll have a cold winter to take care of them.” He took a swig of beer; he doubted that they’d be lucky now when they hadn’t been all Season.
Stephen leaned across the table. “Cosmic Kid, you have an acceptance speech prepared in case, right?”
“Ah, isn’t it poor form to admit that?” asked Cosmic Kid.
“No, it’s poor form to babble at the podium,” said Stephen.
“Everyone writes up an acceptance speech when they’re nominated for an award, Kid,” said Blue Star.
“Well, okay I might have jotted down some thoughts.”
“Stephen is just making sure you mentioned him in the speech,” said John.
“Quiet everyone they’re doing Best PR Director!” hissed Stacey, who was focused on the stage. They were running a clip with all the PR directors of the West Coast Conference making inane statements about their teams. The last clip was of Gabrielle at a press conference reaming a reporter who asked her whether Keystone’s departure would scuttle the team. It was truly classic Gabrielle and at the end of the clip the screen went black with the words Gabrielle Fox (White Knight) 1985-2013. There was applause from across the room; it was an awkward moment with everyone’s attention on their table. It passed quickly enough, though, because like all superhero awards ceremonies a lot of teams had suffered losses and there was a timetable to stick to.
“I picked that clip,” said Stacey.
“I wish I had gotten to know Gabrielle better,” said Cosmic Kid.
“You couldn’t have,” said Blue Star. “Secret identities are fine for keeping your privacy, but to your teammates they’re a slap in the face. She didn’t trust you or the team with the truth and that creates a wall.”
“I guess,” said Cosmic Kid. “At the funeral, I met her parents – they didn’t even know nor did any of her friends or family. Her father told me that he didn’t even know who his own daughter was.”
“It’s never easy when someone dies,” Stacey sighed.
“Everyone dies,” said John. “Not everyone who dies though is remembered or honored as they should be.”
“Gabrielle knew the risks and she went down fighting,” said Blue Star, who hadn’t attended the funeral. In fact, he’d really tried hard not to think about Gabrielle or her death for the last few months. “That’s how I want to go, fighting the good fight, not fading away in some nursing home for old supers.”
“I’d rather not go out at all,” said Cosmic Kid.
“That’s youth speaking,” said Blue Star. “In our line of work, death is our constant companion. You’ll spend your life dodging and scorning her until you realize that it’s death that makes life so sweet. Spend time with someone who’s immortal and you’ll see that living forever isn’t a blessing but a curse.
“Wow, once the Season’s over you get real philosophical, don’t you?” said Cosmic Kid.
“Will you all please be quiet!” hissed Nautilus. The Best Team Leader award was next and Nautilus had been nominated for his leadership of San Diego.
“Focus on your own table,” snapped Stacey, though she did give Blue Star and Cosmic Kid an ineffectual glare. Nautilus didn’t win Best Team Leader, which went to the retiring Captain Seattle. The next award was Best Rookie.
“The camera will be on us, so no nose picking or anything,” whispered Stephen.
“Good luck, Kid,” said Blue Star as John proudly patted his son on the back.
The four candidates were Cosmic Kid, Gale of the Cool Kids, Paradigm Shift of the High Rollers, and Shield of Salt Lake Heroes. Blue Star didn’t think it was even close, though he hadn’t really paid much attention to the other candidates when he’d submitted his vote. Once you won an award in the Super League, you became a lifetime voting member for conference and national awards.
Robin Traverse of Supers Weekly, formerly Skyfire, leader of the Infinity Team, who Blue Star had briefly dated decades ago, came out to announce the winner. She ripped open the envelope and gave the audience a smile. “The winner of the Best Rookie of the Year for the West Coast Conference is…Paradigm Shift of the High Rollers!”
The room broke out in applause, but everyone at the West Pacific Supers table just stared blankly at the stage. “Who the hell is Paradigm Shift?” asked Blue Star a little too loudly. Next to them at the San Diego table, he could hear Nautilus snickering.
“This is crap,” muttered Stephen who pulled out his HoloBerry. “We need to focus on winning the People’s Choice Awards since we didn’t win a real award. Paradigm Shift? Who the hell are they kidding?”
“Guys, come on, be good sports,” said Cosmic Kid with a laugh. “It’s not like this really matters that much and Paradigm Shift had a good Season.”
“You are such a great guy,” said Stacey with a wistful look.
“Yes, very classy, Patrick,” said Veronica.
“We should go get drunk and pick up some girls,” said Blue Star. “That’s the way to get over a loss like this. John can pretend to be Hogan Landers and all of us can get lucky tonight.”
“No, no, no!” said Stacey quickly. “I’m under strict orders from Dr. Sterling. No public drunkenness and no women.” She tried to fix them with a steely gaze, but failed miserably.
“Don’t worry, Stacey,” said Cosmic Kid with a laugh. “We’re going to have a Classic Cosmic Kid Party: Pictionary, pizza, and my soda sponsor - A-Cola!”
“A-Cola?” asked Blue Star skeptically.
“Absolutely, the sickeningly sweet, carbonated, concentrated agave nectar of the future!” said Cosmic Kid. “Supposedly, one can gives you the sugar high of six cans of a normal soda. Two cans can kill
a diabetic.”
“Great,” said Blue Star grumpily. “Another evening fraught with peril.”
Chapter 48
2:07 a.m., Saturday, December 21st, 2013
Palais du Louvre
Paris, France
A voice…no, two voices, thought Nike, the Goddess of Victory. She tried to focus and found that she was more aware than usual. She could sense two people nearby talking and doing something to her prison, which was bringing her awareness back to reality. How long had she been imprisoned? She didn’t know, but it had to have been centuries at least. Most of it was a blur of dreams and nightmares created by her mind to deal with her confinement. She was probably quite mad, though she figured that if she feared she was mad then she probably wasn’t.
“Is it working?” said one of them, a male.
“Yes, I think so,” said another male, who Nike believed was performing some sort of spell. Magic. It was magic that had gotten her into this. She remembered Circe who had betrayed her and trapped her in this prison. She would go to Hades itself to find Circe to inflict her vengeance.
“It’s missing its head and arms? What are we going to do with a headless, armless goddess?” asked the first one. The humans were clearly intellectually limited and didn’t understand that gods chose their forms. She was tempted upon release from her prison to assume a headless, armless form, but it would undermine the moment.
She was being freed. This moment had to be something special. While the humans were probably as limited as all humans, they had no doubt braved great dangers to rescue her. It was how things were supposed to be done. She would have to be gracious; if she was ever imprisoned again how she handled this release would affect future attempts at liberating her. She would give them each a boon: a wish, yes, a wish. Humans loved wishes, which were usually incredibly short-sighted and disgustingly easy to arrange, but it tantalized their limited imaginations.
“It’s starting to glow!” said the second human.
The prison was breaking. She wondered how human society had changed after a few hundred years. They were probably still struggling with wind and animal power, which would make it easier to earn their worship. Though with her luck they were an interstellar power and while her abilities would dwarf them individually they really wouldn’t be impressed. That was why her kin preferred more primitive civilizations: they were easier to impress. Modern societies were so cynical. Then again, at least one of the humans was using magic. That was good; magic was usually one of the first things to go, that and war – which took away half the fun of playing with lesser species.
West Pacific Supers: Rising Tide Page 44