by Drew Hayes
Alexandria nodded, even though nothing had been asked of her. The girl was clearly star-struck. Titan would have bet dollars to donuts that somewhere in the cinders of her now-charred room were the remains of a Gale poster. That thought, sad as it was, gave him an idea.
“Gale, maybe you can help me—us—out,” he said carefully. “I’ve got friends who are coming to take Alexandria and her family somewhere secure, where she won’t have to worry about setting things on fire. Unfortunately, her car will be too small for anyone else to ride with her, but I want her to know she’s still got people watching over her. Are you free to fly alongside her car and make sure she arrives safely?”
“Of course I can,” Gale said, giving the young girl another comforting smile. “That works out well, actually. I wanted to see if you had some free time later on to chat, so now we can meet up after and I can assure you everything went fine.”
Titan had known he was handing out a favor by asking her to do escort duty, but he hadn’t expected her to cash it in immediately. Clearly she wanted to know about his return as soon as possible. From the way Alexandria had recognized her and her skill at diplomacy, it seemed a fair guess that she was one of the better known Heroes in the city, which meant she likely also belonged to one of the top teams. He’d hoped to avoid getting too mixed up in the Hero world before he settled in here, but it looked like that wasn’t going to happen.
Oh well. At least he was going to get something out of it.
“Sounds like a great idea,” Titan agreed.
12.
“Nice job.”
Mr. Greene was the first thing the team saw when they stepped through the door of their base; he stood between the living room and the kitchen, wearing an almost aggressively neutral expression.
“Thank you, sir,” Galvanize responded immediately. “We were thankful to get everyone out with no injuries or deaths. It was a good day.”
“Very good,” Mr. Greene amended. “The firefighters actually went on record thanking you for your help, the footage of Zone leaping into the building is being picked up by a station running the story, and the post-rescue photos came out looking quite striking.”
Owen wondered how this man knew so much about pictures he hadn’t taken and stations he didn’t run, then let the curiosity slide away. This place had a lot of money, and Owen had been around more than long enough to know that with the right amount of cash, there was almost nothing one couldn’t access.
“Unfortunately, our newest team member wasn’t present in any of the group photos.” Mr. Greene’s face was still neutral, his tone still even, yet one could feel the disapproval radiating off of him. “Titan, you understand that as Hero Liaison to this team you're expected to appear alongside them, don’t you?”
“I know what I signed up for, and I’ve got no issue with that, when time permits. My priority was taking care of a little girl who couldn’t stop herself from radiating fire. Once she was safe, I went to join in the photo-shoot, but it had already wrapped up.”
“A girl radiating fire? Galvanize, please explain,” Mr. Greene said.
“There was a Powered in the building. She seemed to be cloaked in flames and was unable to extinguish herself. Titan secured her, calmed her down, and arranged for her to be transported somewhere safe where she wouldn’t present a danger to herself or others. He prioritized it as higher importance than dealing with the media, and I agreed. Left unattended, she could have injured someone or started a new blaze.”
Owen felt a spark of surprise at Galvanize’s words. That was only somewhat how it had happened; in truth, he’d just taken the girl down and Galvanize hadn’t stopped him, but this made it sound like the actions of Titan had been done at Galvanize’s orders. The kid was putting himself on the chopping block instead of Owen.
Mr. Greene stared at the two men for a long moment. “And why couldn’t Hexcellent have had one of her demons restrain the child? They are also fireproof, as well as less necessary to be seen on camera.”
“The fire was coming from fear,” Owen said, not about to let Galvanize try and absorb anymore blame. “Powereds’ abilities often tie to their emotions. She was scared because she lost control and that fear fed her ability, causing a chain reaction that almost torched a whole building. Hexcellent’s demons aren’t what anyone would call child-friendly, so I seemed like a smarter pick for calming her down.”
Mr. Greene remained silent for a few seconds then seemed to relax.
“Very well. Our first job is to provide emergency services, and it appears your choices were made with the public’s safety in mind, so missing a photo-op is an acceptable loss. Just make sure everyone, Titan included, writes up their standard post-response report. Every detail, every action, every name of every person encountered. There were no injuries today, but we all know that doesn’t preclude reports surfacing later. Good day.”
Mr. Greene strolled out of the room, eyes staring straight ahead as he headed down the hall.
“What’s this about reports now?” Owen looked around, finding that the rest of the team didn’t seem to share his confusion.
“Post-response reports,” Galvanize told him. “PEERS are big targets for the occasional lawsuit. We’ll have people we pull out of cars claim we caused exacerbations to their injuries, or that our presence made things worse, stuff like that. The company can usually beat them with telepaths, but those can get muddy, legally speaking, so one of the ways they combat it is to have us document everything we did. A lot of lawsuits have fallen apart when the person’s story didn’t match up at all to what we recorded.”
“Sounds like a massive pain in the ass,” Owen said. “No one mentioned paperwork.”
“Why don’t you blow it off then, like you did doing camera work?” Zone had been silent for most of the trip back, but it was immediately clear that it hadn’t been because he had nothing to say. “Just let Galvanize stand in for you again. God forbid the legendary Hero cop up to his own fuck-ups.”
“Zone, that’s enough,” Galvanize snapped.
“No, let him go.” Owen patted Galvanize’s shoulder then turned to face Zone. Looking the younger man in eye required Owen to tilt his head at a noticeable incline. “He’s been biting back his tongue since I got here; that shit isn’t healthy. Come on, kid, if you’ve got something to say then say it.”
“Gladly! I think it was a mistake to bring you on. Mirror Fog was a Hero, but he wasn’t like you. He was a decent guy, humble, never looking down on us. But you? From the minute you stepped in here you’ve acted like Babe Ruth sitting at a tee-ball game. Missing the photo-op is just one more example of the real problem: you think you’re better than us. You didn’t want to be seen with us. And while I’m used to that from Heroes, to see it from you just chaps my ass, because you are in no fucking way better than us. ”
Zone’s face was red, a vein bulging near the top of his forehead. He looked half-ready to swing; likely the only thing holding him back was the knowledge that it would injure his hand if he struck Titan’s legendarily tough body. Owen leaned closer, until he was less than a foot from the fuming man’s face.
“And what, pray tell, makes me so much worse than the other Heroes?”
“Because you’re a goddamned coward.” Zone spun around and stormed out of the living room, off toward the gym.
Owen stood there, frozen in place. He’d expected any number of things to come out of Zone’s mouth: bigotry, arrogance, outright hate, but he hadn’t been braced for that little bastard to cut to the quick of him.
Coward. That was what he’d called himself countless times over his years in exile. He’d tormented himself with that word for so long, but it had been a private pain. It had genuinely never occurred to him that others would see his failings all on their own.
“Ignore Zone; he’s got a short fuse and an ego bigger than he needs,” Galvanize said. “He’ll calm down once I explain that you skipping the photos wasn’t a personal slight.”
“It’s fine,�
� Owen said at last. He looked over; it hadn’t escaped his notice that while Galvanize was keeping the peace, Hexcellent and Bubble Bubble had both remained silent after Zone’s rant. One look at their faces told him why: they agreed with their teammate. Maybe not about him being worse than other Heroes, but certainly about him thinking he was too good for them.
And they weren’t really wrong, were they? He had been thinking that way, ever since Lenny handed him their folder.
“I promise, we’ll get things smoothed out-”
“Just show me where to get one of those report things,” Owen said, and Galvanize went quiet. “Please. I want to get it done with.” As much as he would have liked to sink into a funk over his lifetime of failings, Owen needed to knock the paperwork out as soon as possible.
Little as he felt like going, he still had to meet with Gale.
13.
There were all sorts of Hero-themed bars and restaurants: Supper with Supers, Capes & Cocktails, and Planet Hero were only some of the more nationally franchised ones. For the most part they were horrendously tacky affairs, with staff wearing costumes and walls decorated in art featuring Heroes or sometimes vintage Hero memorabilia.
In larger cities, Heroes would frequent these establishments in costume, stopping in to have a quick beer or bite then sign autographs for the adoring fans. Such appearances were, of course, purchased by the respective establishment and carefully scheduled. They wanted patrons to think that any trip could lead to meeting a real-life Hero in the flesh.
Off-duty Heroes, or ones not contractually obligated to show up, avoided those places like they’d seen the kitchen. A real Hero bar was one that catered to them when the capes were off. This type of bar masqueraded as unassuming watering holes, a place akin to a dive without the rustic charm. There was, of course, no way to turn away non-Heroes without advertising what clientele they actually catered to. Instead, the staff made sure regular people didn’t want to stay. Horrid service, flat beer at room temperature, and food that would turn a garbage disposal’s stomach ensured that if you weren’t supposed to be at a Hero bar, it wasn’t a place you felt inclined to linger.
Owen felt the assessing stares as he stepped through the door of Brin’s Gate, a small bar twenty minutes’ jog from base. He was dressed in street clothes, as was everyone else here. Stepping into a place like this wearing a costume would have defeated the whole point. The staff, sizing him up from afar, could clearly see he was big. But “big” might only mean he was a Super, not a Hero, and even that required some assumptions. He’d probably be stuck getting treated like a mundane until Gale arrived and vouched for him.
“Hey, over here!” A breeze hit his left ear and Owen turned to find Gale standing up at a booth and waving him over. He noticed the staff relax, accepting him as a proper client. It usually took more than a wave to do that. Either this place had lax standards or Gale had more clout than Owen realized.
He lumbered across the room and slid onto the bench that awaited him. Instead of the usual groans and creaks he was accustomed to from furniture, the seat held firm. That was one thing about Hero bars: they either started out with reinforced furniture or very quickly learned to get some.
Gale was dressed in slacks and a blouse, the sort of outfit that said she might have just gotten off work or might be heading out for a proper dinner after her drink. In front of her was a cocktail, halfway watered down by the melted ice.
“Been waiting long?”
“I had another meeting here earlier, so I just hung around for this one,” Gale replied. “I appreciate you being prompt.”
“Course. We all have our schedules to keep.”
The waitress came by, and Owen ordered a local beer. Once she left, he turned the conversation toward the most important subject, so far as he was concerned. “Everything go okay with Alexandria?”
“No issues. She made it to the facility without so much as a flare-up. I think it helped that she was a little star-struck.” Gale was keeping a neutral face while she examined Owen with attentive eyes. “I’m surprised you care so much about one Powered girl.”
“First job back. Haven’t had time to get jaded again. . . yet.” Owen’s beer arrived and he took a long draw from it. Dark, yeasty, and potent; he’d have to find out the name of the brewery so he could try more of their wares.
“About that. I was wondering what made you decide to leave retirement. And why you picked Brewster, Illinois, to reappear in, of all places. We’re a decent-sized city, but we’re no New York or Los Angeles.”
“I left retirement because I wanted to start doing some good again,” Owen said. “As for why I came here. . . my agent had set up shop locally, and this is where I got a job.”
“You’re on a team?”
“I’m. . .” The urge to lie, or at least tell half-truths, was almost overpowering. But Zone’s words were still ringing in Owen’s ears. He thought he was better than them, and what right did he have? Those kids didn’t have his power or training, yet they were still doing the best they could to help people. Meanwhile, he’d taken all his abilities and holed up in Colorado. Like a coward.
“I’m working as a Hero Liaison for a team of Privately Employed Emergency Response Supers. I’m also going to do a little Hero work when time permits, but they’re my main job.”
Gale stared at him then let out a short, sharp, laugh. “You expect me to believe that Titan, the Titan, finally came out of hiding just to lead a bunch of corpies? I’m not an idiot.”
“No, you’re the leader of Elemental Fury, one of the most well-known teams in Brewster. It’s been in existence for over two decades and you’re the fourth leader they’ve had, presiding for the last three years. Your team is efficient, skilled, and great at minimizing collateral damage, which is probably part of why you’re so liked by the citizens. It also means you’re on top, which makes you a target for criminals and Heroes more concerned with image than the job. You think I’m the latter.” Owen had done more than just paperwork in his time before the meeting; he’d also pulled up some background information on Gale. Knowledge was usually more useful than muscle, in his experience.
“Titan was quite a media juggernaut in his day. I find it hard to believe you plan on lying low. Seems like you might want to be the new big dog in town, and the only way someone with your rep could do that would be to make us look bad.”
“I’m not here for the media, and I’m sure as shit not a gunner who is going to sabotage your PR. Those guys don’t last as long as I did before I quit, and you know that.”
“I’m not sure what I know when it comes to you,” Gale said. “Nearly every piece of information I have on you is from hearsay and propaganda. The one thing I do know is that you’re powerful and experienced, which makes you dangerous.”
“Only if I come with ill intentions, which I don’t.”
“Why should I believe that? You come here and feed me a story about baby-sitting corpies, giving me nothing to go on. I’m not trying to be a bitch, Titan, but this is my city. I was born here, I grew up here, and I lay my life on the line every day to keep it safe. Glory-seekers are a real danger; they take stupid risks that get people killed. For someone on your scale of power, that could be a whole lot of people.”
“Gale, you can either trust me or not. What you can’t do is stop me.” Owen meant it in a general sense, but he saw her tense. She probably had a hurricane ready to go the moment he made a sudden move. “I mean that in a technical way. I’ve got my certification and my license. Until I do something worthy of bringing before the DVA, I’m free to fulfill my Hero duties as I see fit.”
“I can make it hard on you.”
“That just gets us into a stupid feud, and I don’t need that kind of headache,” Owen replied. “Here’s what I’d suggest instead: watch me. Let my actions tell you if I’m here to hunt glory or here to help. If I fuck up, then you’ve got something to bring before the DVA. If not, well, maybe along the way you’ll realize I’m
telling the truth.”
“You know damned well I was going to put surveillance on you anyway.” Gale gulped down the last of her drink, half-melted ice cubes and all.
“It might have occurred to me.” Owen gave a lopsided grin and finished his own drink.
“All right. I’ll back off for now, on one condition.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“I want you to come by my base for an ability assessment,” Gale replied. “I’ll feel more comfortable once I know what you can do, and it’ll be interesting to see how my team stacks up against a legend.”
“I’d have to schedule it around my own team. I wasn’t kidding about them being my main priority.”
“Understood. We’ll shake our schedules and make something work. Bring them along if you like. Might be a thrill for them to see what a real Hero team looks like.”
For a reason Owen couldn’t yet define, that comment rankled him.
“I’ll find a time. Hate to tell you this, though, but you were wrong about one thing.”
“What’s that?” Gale asked.
“Once you’ve seen what I can do, comfortable is the last thing you’ll be feeling.”
14.
The powerful knocking on his door roused Lenny from a pleasant dream. In it, he’d been just about to sign three coordinated Hero teams under a group contract, with a percentage that was so high he’d have never allowed himself to indulge it in real life. The caped leader had been putting his signature on the contract when he jerked, slamming his knee into the desk. Then he did it again, and again, over and over until Lenny tore free of his dream world and realized someone very strong was knocking on his door.
It took him exactly one guess to figure out who’d come a-calling. Truthfully, he’d expected this visit to come earlier.
“Gimme a damn minute!” Lenny rolled out of bed and put on his orthopedic slippers. Other men might have been embarrassed to greet a visitor comparable to the gods while wearing gray house-shoes. Other men lacked the brass-balled confidence of Lenny.