by Drew Hayes
“I want you to listen to me very, very carefully,” Owen said, leaning in slightly so that he was towering over Galvanize, even while they both sat. “Never use that power on me. Never. No matter what. Are we clear?”
“I. . . okay,” Galvanize mumbled, clearly taken aback. “There’s no shame in needing a push on occasion, though.”
“My worry is not that I will need a push. It is that I am incredibly strong and have worked for years to make sure I am in total control of that strength. If you suddenly jack me to maximum power then I don’t know how much destruction I’ll cause, but it will be a lot. Now, are we clear?” Owen repeated.
“We’re clear,” Galvanize replied.
4.
Owen surveyed his new room. It was large: not that he was surprised by this, but aside from the few boxes that had been shipped from Colorado, its size made the space seem surprisingly sparse. A bed in the corner, dresser by the far wall with a small television perched on top, and a desk across from the door dominated by a monitor and keyboard. Upon further inspection, it only seemed under-furnished compared to the opulence that had been present everywhere else.
After basic introductions, Galvanize had shown him around. The area set aside for their residence consisted of three floors. Below the elevator entrance was the gym, a sprawling, state-of-the-art facility with enough equipment to accommodate a team of Olympic hopefuls. Unfortunately, since none of his new team had supremely advanced strength, there were no ultra-dense weights that Owen could use. He didn’t mind that too much, though. Part of his ability kept his muscles from atrophying, so it wasn’t as though he’d get weaker without training. If the need arose, he could always have someone ship his old weight set from Colorado over. He’d just have to pick a company that didn’t charge by the pound.
The gym level also housed a large room outfitted with various sandbags, movable platforms, and mock-building fronts. Galvanize had explained to Owen that this was the room where they honed their rescue skills, doing drills through constantly-changing scenarios to make sure they were on top of their game. Here Owen had met Zone, a tan young man with frosted tips, a dazzling smile, and a body-fat percentage so low it had to be unhealthy. They’d exchanged pleasantries then Zone had hustled off to shower before an appearance promoting a skateboard company he represented. From the speed at which the younger Super moved, Owen suspected he was less than thrilled to have this new addition to their team. Owen didn’t really mind; he wasn’t exactly dancing at the idea of being here himself, after all.
The middle floor was the one where he’d entered. Aside from the living room and kitchen there was a large dining room, a conference room, and an office with several professional-grade computers, printers, and the like. Galvanize explained that this was so anyone who needed to print out headshots or other such paraphernalia before an appearance could do so in the comfort of their own home. Evidently they had formerly outsourced such tasks, but it had turned out that doing them in-house was far more cost and time efficient.
The last floor was their living quarters: five large bedrooms, private bathrooms, a small nook with a coffee bar, and a sealed door. Owen had asked about the sealed door, which according to Galvanize was a high-tech area that only upper-management was allowed to access. Evidently, inside was a variety of gadgets and technology they were only permitted to use during training and missions. For a brief moment Owen contemplated snapping the metal door down with a minor exertion of effort, then thought better of it. It was only his first day, and he’d promised Lenny he’d try and be on good behavior. Given the abundant wealth of the team Owen was now on, he suspected his manager had pulled more than a few strings to make this happen. He needed to play nice, at least until he knew if he could handle this place or not.
Once the tour was done, they headed back to the main floor, where a pretty woman with a notepad was waiting for Owen. She took him back through the building, down to a normal business floor, and set about the task of registering him in the system. Stacks upon stacks of forms were signed, so many that Owen nearly spaced out and used his real name several times. Heroes’ code names were, for purposes of legal contracts, considered acceptable alternatives to their own names. This had come about as more Heroes sought to enter private industry based on their Hero credentials but were not willing to compromise their secret identities. The only exception to this rule was for Heroes who inherited a legacy name, a name used already by a previous Super. They had to add a number after their signatures, distinguishing their identities, so that they were not bound by contracts or agreements their predecessors had signed.
After the seemingly endless forms, he’d been taken to a different area where he was forced to step into a strange machine that catalogued his biometrics, which would in turn allow him access to his new home. Then he was given a badge and card for entry into the building. Owen could not, for the life of him, understand why they insisted on taking a picture for his badge even though he was wearing a mask. He’d pointed this out, even offered to go back and change into his Titan mask so that it would be consistent, but his guide had merely shushed him down and assured him this was all part of standard procedure and had to be done in a precise way. Owen tried once more, pointing out it made no sense. The woman agreed, then told him to sit in front of the camera and not to smile, because that would make the picture harder to recognize. Owen gave up and complied.
Now, at last, he was done for the day. Officially registered, he was a part of this team in every legal way. He might have made an effort to connect with them more, but by the time he finished, everyone was out doing various appearances. Owen wondered if they spent every day like this, and if so, how they were ever around to respond in time to emergencies. He needed to see what these kids could do, and soon, otherwise when they finally did go on a call he’d have no idea how to treat them if something went wrong. It was an issue he’d try and remedy tomorrow.
Owen carefully unpacked his duffel bag containing the possessions too important to trust to a courier service. First were his Titan costumes. He kept six of them so that if one was dirty or in need of repair he had spares on hand. They were made from hardy material, but Supers like him were often put in situations that not even technology-enhanced cloth could stand up to. Next came a large metal box with a strange, orb-shaped lock on it. Inside were a variety of trinkets and trophies from his first round of Hero days. Some were too dangerous to let out of his sight, but most just held too much sentimental value.
The final item extracted from his bag was a picture frame. Inside it were two photos set side by side. The first showed a younger Owen and a small boy in a junkyard, the boy proudly holding a washing machine over his head. The second was Owen and another boy, this one noticeably heavier, clutching a spelling bee trophy in his hands. In both photos, one could easily make out traces of Owen’s strong face in the children’s features.
Owen carefully set this frame on his desk, next to the monitor. Now, he was home.
5.
“This is stupid,” Hexcellent complained loudly, hands incessantly tugging on her sweatshirt as she tried to get comfortable in the unfamiliar garb. “You’re not our fucking leader; you’re just here as a token Hero so we can do our job. We don’t need to prove shit to you.”
“Hexcellent, that’s enough,” said Galvanize, his tone gentle but firm.
“No, it’s okay, I don’t blame her for calling bullshit,” Owen replied, his own chest bare as none of the sweatshirts he found in the gym were large enough to fit him. As it was, the sweatpants he’d found only came halfway down his calves, looking as though they’d been meant as capris.
The first thing that morning, Owen had found Galvanize to request a full team meeting. Galvanize had complied and gathered everyone in the gym less than an hour later. Unfortunately, since it was an official meeting, the rules demanded they wear their official team sweats, rather than whatever was comfortable and fit them best. Currently they were all standing around in the part
of the gym designed for rescue simulations, eyes set on the now unmasked newcomer in their midst.
Walking in maskless had been a tough decision for Owen, one he’d ultimately realized was inevitable. Teamwork hinged on trust. They had it with each other; he could see that in their body language. As the new guy, he would have to earn it. Showing them his face was a small but necessary step in that process.
“I took the time to read up on all of you last night before bed. You have good response rates, excellent percentages of civilians saved, and zero unauthorized encounters with criminal Supers. The first two are good, but the last one struck me as odd. Given that nearly half of the incidents you responded to last year were caused by criminal Supers, it seems like you’d at least have needed to retreat or work around one at some point.”
“We don’t take unnecessary risks,” Zone said. Even wearing dumpy gray sweats, the man still looked as though he’d walked in from fashion shoot. “If Mirror Fog suspected any criminal Super involvement, we kept our distance until it was clear.” Mirror Fog had been their last Hero on staff, now retired to somewhere tropical and pretty.
“That’s because Mirror Fog’s ability allowed him to discover if one was at the scene of the emergencies,” Owen pointed out. “I don’t have that power, which means when we go on calls, there will be a very real chance of running into a criminal Super.”
“Sounds like your problem,” Hexcellent said.
“It is my problem. But getting civilians out of the danger zone is yours. That’s why I need to see what you each can do. It will tell me whether to call for a full retreat or have you keep helping people while I handle the situation.”
“Technically, that would be my call,” Galvanize said.
“With all due respect, no, it wouldn’t.” Owen phrased his reply as carefully as he could. He liked Galvanize. The kid seemed earnest in his efforts to help, but it was important to make things clear from the get go. “Most of the time, yes, you’re the leader and I respect that. But the minute we have to deal with some Super causing trouble, I’m in command. I’ve got the training and experience to make those kinds of calls.”
“Mirror Fog never tried to pull rank on us like that,” Zone snapped.
“Mirror Fog kept you away from other Supers, so it never came up,” Owen countered. “Our goal here is the same; we don’t want anyone to get hurt. The difference is that when things go wrong, you have to worry about civilians and I have to worry about you.”
The debate might have gone on longer, but at that moment, Bubble Bubble stepped forward and made a gesture at one of the dummies. A blue-tingled sphere appeared around the false person and began moving upward slowly.
“They’re slow, and they only get slower the more bubbles I try to move at once,” she said, her tone as even as it had been when reading her magazine. “At best, I could move one across a football field in two minutes. At worse, it would be around ten. The largest sphere I can create is big enough to hold around five people or one sedan-sized car. I can partially engulf large objects without destroying them, but that leaves the bubble’s integrity extremely compromised. ”
“How many can you conjure at once?” Owen asked.
“Up to five, but any more than three and the durability begins to degrade,” Bubble Bubble answered.
“I see, and how durable are they before that happens?”
“They’ve stopped bullets, repelled flames, and taken large chunks of debris falling on them without giving way. But if you would like to test for yourself, feel free.” Another gesture and a sphere roughly five feet wide materialized in front of Owen.
“You read my mind,” Owen said, looking the bubble up and down. The thing about energy barriers people often failed to realize was that in order to stop something physical, force had to be exerted on it. Force flowing one way meant it could flow back the other, so while energy barriers were resistant to physical attacks, enough strength behind a blow could still shatter them.
Owen went slow, first doing nothing more than giving it a one-fingered thump. The sphere rippled, but held firm. Next he made a loose fist with his hand and struck it with a knocking motion, as though he were rapping on someone’s door. The rippling was far more evident this time, yet still the bubble held. The fingers in his hand grew closer as his fist tightened. When he struck this time it was like he was pounding on a door, a hammer of flesh trying to pierce the obstacle before it.
The bubble shattered in a bright burst of energy, whooshing sounds and a surge of heat accompanying the event.
“What the hell, B.B.? I thought your bubbles were supposed to be tough. Gramps there barely even touched it,” Zone chided.
“No, it was surprisingly strong,” Owen corrected. “The force I used on that last blow was roughly equivalent to it being hit by a speeding car.”
“Sounds about right for the reaction it generated.” Bubble Bubble made a quick motion with her hands to drop the suspended dummy everyone had forgotten about.
“Horseshit it does; that was barely a punch, even for an old man,” Hexcellent said.
“Then I say it’s time we tested your power next,” Owen replied. “I think this old man may just surprise you. Unless you’re afraid to put your power where your mouth is.”
“Bring it on, Gramps.” Hexcellent evidently had no qualms about stealing the nickname Zone had used. “I’ve always wanted to show up one of you fancy-ass Heroes.”
6.
“You should walk more to the center of the room,” Galvanize advised. “So there’s space to move about.”
“If you say so.” Owen wasn’t too worried about needing to dodge, but stranger things had happened in his life. A few large steps brought him to the center of the unobstructed area with ample space around him. Hexcellent made no such motions.
“Aren’t you coming?” Owen called to the dark-haired woman.
“I don’t get my hands dirty, I’ve got people for that,” Hexcellent replied. “Let me demonstrate.”
“No.” Galvanize held up a hand and Hexcellent, to her credit, froze in place instantly. “I know what you’re about to do, and no. Show him the other two first. This is supposed to be a full assessment, not you trying to prove a point.”
“Fiiiiiiiiiiiine,” Hexcellent agreed, drawing out the word into a whine. “I’ll start from the bottom. My smallest demon is Impers. We use him for recon and message relaying.” She stuck out her hand and exerted a minor bit of focus. Next to Owen, a small creature appeared in a puff of red smoke.
It was about a foot tall, human-shaped with red skin and diminutive horns on its head. Large, bat-like wings nearly as long as it was tall extended from its back, and a three-inch tail swept from side to side out of its rear. The creature made a chittering noise then leapt into the air. Owen was surprised with the grace it had in flight; it moved through the air with precision and speed. Impers circled the room four times then landed on Hexcellent’s shoulder and made the chittering noise again.
“How is that thing used for messages?” Owen asked. “It can’t talk.”
“‘It’ is a he, and we worked out a system,” Hexcellent explained. “Impers can understand the questions we ask him, plus he can control the clicks he makes. One click means yes, two means no, three means follow me, and four means run like hell. As long as you ask the right questions, it’s pretty effective.”
“Useful,” Owen said, trying his best to hide the surprise at this creature being any gender, let alone male. Still, since it sprang from the summoner’s mind, no one was more familiar with it than she. “Anything else I should know?”
“Impers is the smartest of my summons, so he can take the most complex directions. The others make noise, but they have to be ordered more directly. Impers excels in situations where we’re trying to locate people who are trapped, since he can remember where he sees them and point to it on a map. He’s frailer than the other two, but fireproof. All of them are fireproof, actually.”
The fireproof
part didn’t shock Owen at all. “Okay, what’s next?”
Impers vanished in the same smoke he’d appeared in. Another motion from Hexcellent and a much larger cloud of red smoke appeared near Owen. Out of this came a creature roughly five feet tall with the head of a vulture atop a hunched body. Its feet were taloned and in place of arms or wings were two long, translucent white blades in the shape of scythes.
“Her name is Huggles,” Hexcellent informed Owen.
“Huggles?”
“I was feeling a bit feisty and sarcastic when I created her,” she admitted. “Anyway, those blades on her arm are sharp enough to cut through most metals, and she’s got the strength to wield them. She’s most useful for getting people out of cars, sawing through debris, that sort of thing.”
“I see. Mind having her strike me?”
“I can, but it won’t prove anything,” Hexcellent said. “Huggles can’t cut through anything stronger than steel, and even that gives her trouble. I’d assume a veteran Hero like you is at least that tough.”
“None the less, I’d prefer if you did.” Owen stuck out his left arm and left it there, freely exposed.
“Have it your way. Huggles, cut his arm!” Hexcellent yelled. The words had no sooner left her mouth than the bird-thing whirled into action, again moving with more grace than its form should allow. She swung both arm-blades down in a smooth slice, striking two places on Owen’s forearms. As soon as the blades met his skin, the motion ceased completely. He’d never expected Huggles to be powerful enough to move him, but he was surprised by the amount of strength the demon could muster. It was good to know this thing had some power behind it.
“Not bad,” Owen complimented. “I take it there’s one left?”
“Yup, and I saved the best for last.” This time Hexcellent’s motions were slower, and there was a noticeable delay between Huggles’ disappearance and the next demon’s cloud of smoke. Once it appeared, though, it was impossible to miss. The cloud was huge, and Owen caught the faint scent of brimstone in his nostrils. Once the smoke cleared, he found himself in the rare position of looking up.