by Drew Hayes
“All right: so it goes NTC, Standard, then I’m guessing there’s something between that and Armageddon.”
“Two steps: Demolition Class and Manhattan Class. Demo, which is my actual classification by the way, means a Super could level several city blocks if left unchecked. Manhattan means the level of destruction they can wreak would be roughly on par with a nuclear bomb. That’s why Supers like me never hit too high on the scale; we just can’t cover enough ground to be considered a massive threat.”
“Well damn. Here I thought we were at least getting a hot-shit Hero and you’re not even in the second to best class? Maybe we should see if Galvanize thinks you’re really cut out for the penthouse.” Hexcellent smiled at him, showing more warmth than she seemed to share with some of her other team members.
“You can try to throw me out, but I should warn you: I’ve kicked the dogshit out of countless Manhattans and even a few Armageddons. They might be better at large-scale destruction, but I’m in the top when it comes to one-on-one.”
“Unless a telekinetic lifts you in the air,” Hexcellent reminded him.
“I said that works on most strongmen. I’m not among that number.”
“That so? Please enlighten me, great Hero, what secret technique do you use for getting out of such a precarious situation?”
Owen reached into the belt of his uniform and pulled out a few steel balls roughly the size of marbles. “I throw these at whoever lifts me. They’ll at least break the person’s concentration, and if I hit them, the problem pretty much takes care of itself.”
“No way that works. I’ve seen a bunch of telekinetic Heroes hold shields while doing other stuff. They could just block them.”
Owen slipped the balls back into his belt pouch and gave Hexcellent a smile of his own. “Shields, like everything else in this world, can only take so much. Put enough force behind it and the right blow can shatter them.”
“You’d have to be throwing pretty damned hard.”
“Unlike keeping my mouth shut, that’s one of the few things I do well,” Owen said.
17.
The store promo, as Galvanize had called it, turned out to be little more than thankless glad-handing at the opening of the latest Fiery Discussion, Hexcellent’s most prominent sponsor. There was a small crowd there, no doubt drawn by the advertised sales and giveaways meant to promote the new store’s presence in the South Brewster mall. A small black tent was partially obscuring the mall’s walkway; it housed the store’s staff, along with several corporate representatives gathered to greet the eager shoppers. As a representative of Mordent Holdings, the conglomerate that ultimately owned this “rebellious” company, Hexcellent was tasked with circulating through the meager audience.
More people recognized her than Owen had expected. This mystery resolved itself when he glanced through the glass storefront and realized she was heavily featured in posters on the walls. Even those who didn’t seem to recognize her greeted Hexcellent with some warmth: that is, the males among them did. Hexcellent was pretty in a way that appealed to the store’s particular clientele; at the same time, the way she used the store’s products still showcased her natural gifts. True, she wouldn’t be winning any classic beauty pageants even if she did scrub the makeup and tattoos away, but that was what they liked about her. She didn’t look like a model grabbing a paycheck; she appeared to be the genuine article. Since Owen had seen her dress in similar fashions while on her off-time, he had no reason to suspect that wasn’t the case.
“Nice costume.”
Owen glanced down, noticing a gangly male somewhere in his teens staring up at him. Despite all the reasons he had to don his nondescript mask, Owen had shown up in full Titan uniform. He sat away from the corporate folks. As a Hero he needed to take care not to accidentally endorse their products, but he still drew attention as he towered over the rest of the crowd.
“Thanks. Do I look like the real deal?”
“I mean, it’s close, but the real Titan used bolder reds and had different stitching along the seams. Plus, he was taller, not that you can really help that. Still, all in all it’s a commendable job. I bet you could win a few prizes at conventions if you attended.”
Owen suppressed the urge to frown as the teen wandered off to find a new novelty to occupy his time until the doors opened. On one hand, he was glad not to have been recognized. It helped that almost no one knew Titan was back. But. . . taller? It was those damn television cameras, always choosing the perfect angles, making him look like he was even bigger than he was.
“Anyone pieced together that you’re the genuine article yet?” Hexcellent asked, walking over with a water bottle in hand. It surprised him how few swears she’d used since they arrived, but he supposed even among this crowd certain personality aspects required corporate sanitization.
“Not so far,” Owen replied. “Though that last kid said my costume was ‘close.’ So, that’s progress.”
Hexcellent snorted, trying not to spray water from her nose then quickly turning away lest any of the audience should see her near-mishap. “It’s your own fault,” she said as she delicately wiped her face, careful not to smudge any makeup. “You’ve got that gray mask, you could have come semi-incognito.”
“Forget it; I’m here with you. We’re part of a team. Sooner or later people will realize that Hexcellent and Titan are working together. Think of how thrilled these folks will be when they can say they were at the first public appearance.”
“You severely overestimate how many fucks are given about our team.” Hexcellent caught the curse only after it had exited her mouth and glanced around frantically to make sure no one else had heard. “What I mean is, yes, they’ll shake my hand and all, but at the end of the day, that has way more to do with my face and body than with my professional exploits. Same is true for everyone on the team.”
“I disagree,” Owen replied. “You all save lives for a living. Just because this group doesn’t understand and respect that doesn’t mean there aren’t others who do. I bet at least one kid you’ve pulled out of a wrecked car or burning building has a poster of you over his bed.”
“Trust me; I’ve seen the sales numbers, and statistically your statement is probably true. Personally, I try not to think about all the other posters of me that get sold. You know, to people who don’t know my name. Gives me the creepy-shivers.”
One of the men wearing a collared shirt with the Fiery Discussion emblem on it was waving Hexcellent back over. It seemed they were nearly ready to open the doors, meaning Hexcellent had to stand by to do another round of greetings and handshakes that lingered a bit too long. Owen watched her leave when his ears suddenly pricked up.
“Titan, are you able to take assignments?”
He didn’t jump in surprise at Dispatch’s voice humming in his ear this time; maybe he would get the hang of this again sooner than he thought. By plugging his earpiece in that morning, he’d put himself on the grid of Heroes without going officially active. While he didn’t anticipate a need so great they had to rally coverage, it was still his obligation to be prepared for such things.
Owen pulled a cell phone from his pocket and stuck it to his ear before he spoke. No need to make people worry that the enormous, muscle-bound man was also having a psychotic break. “I’m working as a Hero Liaison right now, so I’m not taking assignments unless there’s a severe shortage or tremendous threat. Then I’ll do my part.”
A slight pause came before Dispatch's reply. “Status recorded. There is a disturbance some distance from you. It is escalating, but the responding Heroes are establishing control. Should you be needed, teleportation will be arranged. If you hear nothing from me in the next fifteen minutes, consider the issue resolved.”
“Gotcha. What is this situation, anyway?”
“Mechanical constructs with capable weaponry and high levels of adaptability. Appeared and began wreaking property damage roughly ten minutes ago in the south-western area of the ci
ty. Elemental Fury has now arrived on the scene and diminished their numbers by forty percent. Likelihood of your needed intervention is dropping, but stay ready.”
“Of course.”
Owen put the phone away since their conversation had momentarily ended. Dispatch wasn’t really gone; she never stopped being right there. She was simply not talking, at least to him. If Elemental Fury, Gale’s team, was as good as their reputation then he probably wouldn’t be needed. Even knowing that, Owen looked around to find the most likely route of entrance for a teleporter to take. In a real battle, nothing was ever certain, no matter how good the Heroes were.
Hexcellent looked up from her crowd and flashed him a pained oh-god-how-much-longer-do-I have-to-do-this grin. He responded with a small wave, doing all he could to tamp down the sudden spike of pre-battle anxiety rising in his gut.
18.
When Dispatch’s voice crackled in Owen’s ear, they were outside the mall, only a few yards from the town car that would whisk them away to their next location.
“Titan, you have hostile constructs closing on your location. Elemental Fury led the counterattack to wipe out the first wave, but a second appeared and scattered in various directions. One cluster is on a path that will intersect with your location in less than five minutes. Can you respond?”
Owen had stopped walking when he heard Dispatch speak, causing Hexcellent to shoot him a look of confusion. He held up one finger, gave a small shrug of apology, then replied to Dispatch.
“I can. One the Supers from my PEERS team is with me; do we have time to get her clear?”
“Negative. The constructs caused several accidents, leading to traffic congestion on every applicable route to safety. We have responders working on clearing roads, but until they’re done, getting in a car will put her at higher risk.”
“Excuse me, did you just ask if I could ‘get clear’?” Hexcellent said, narrowing her eyes and sticking a hand on her hip. “If something’s going down, I’m one of the people helping, remember, dipshit?”
“We’ve got robots or something like it less than five minutes away. If they come, it’s possible they’ll go after you, and I don’t want to get you in trouble for engaging in combat,” Owen explained. “Unfortunately the roads are jammed, so you’re stuck here.”
“Well, that sucks. But they’re coming to us, right?”
“That’s what I’m told.”
“Then if I get attacked I can respond in self-defense. Just because we can’t start shit doesn’t mean we can’t end it when some other douchenozzle does.” A wry, daring smile lit up her face at the prospect of sanctioned battle. Owen again found himself wondering why a woman like this hadn’t found her way into the HCP. It was a curiosity that would have to be sated another time.
“All right, I’m ready to respond and I’ve got a PEERS with me to help with the civilians. What can you tell me about these things?” He turned away from Hexcellent, not because he thought his words would in any way be muffled, but rather as a polite way of indicating that he wasn’t speaking to her. Dispatch didn’t require any such indicators; she always knew what was external conversation and what was meant for her. It was one of the many strange, yet useful, aspects of the mysterious voice.
“You have four heading toward your location. They have strength and resilience on par with a Standard Class strongman, laser weaponry on par with a Standard Class blaster, and reaction speed at elevated-human levels.”
“If that’s all there is then I don’t see why they caused such trouble,” Owen prodded.
“They also show adaptability to tactics, learning from the mistakes of others. Given your skillset, I do not foresee it being an issue. The other unique capability of these constructs is that they show minor regeneration. Disabled units would reenter combat after being left alone for some time. They cannot heal beyond complete dismemberment or destruction, however.”
Owen stretched out his arms, tensing every muscle from his shoulder to his fingers. After a moment, he rose up on his toes, adding his legs to the procedure. He felt the mild strain in his tendons, and for an instant he was intimately aware of every fiber of muscle in his massive body. Ever-so-slowly, he released the stretch, pulling his arms back in and lowering down on his feet. It should only be a minute or so now.
“Hit them hard, hit them fast, and don’t stop until they are scrap. That it?”
“That will neutralize the threat. We have others trying to gain information out of their wreckage and systems, but I’m aware your talents lie in other directions. They have continued on their current course and will be breaking into your line of sight momentarily.”
With a squint of his eyes, Owen could make out the shimmering shapes of four sizable humanoids running toward him. They were big, probably a little taller than he was. Not that it would help them. He pulled back his left leg and judged the distance. It had been a while since he’d pulled this trick; Owen hoped he hadn’t lost the touch.
“Am I finally going to see the legendary Titan let loose on some motherfuckers?” Hexcellent’s tone was light but she’d positioned herself several feet behind him. Her attention was split, eyes darting between her teammate and the mall entrance where shoppers were already beginning to line up and point.
“I’ll do my best to put on a good show, but to be honest, this is probably going to be a pretty boring fight. Stay ready, though; if any of them get past me, you’ll have to draw attention from the humans.”
“Big Henry ain’t exactly a subtle sumnabitch, if you hadn’t noticed,” Hexcellent replied. She hadn’t summoned any of her demons yet, but Owen had seen how quickly she could pull them. It was the right call; bringing them out might panic the civilians. Best to let him settle things quickly.
With a nod to Hexcellent and a minor grunt born more out of habit than effort, Owen pushed against the concrete with enough power that it cracked under his boots. The force of the jump sent him sailing forward in an arc more long than high, carrying him across the parking lot to where four metal behemoths were just arriving on the asphalt.
Whether by luck or skill, Owen hit his mark dead-on, landing only a few feet away from the cluster of constructs. The concrete sprayed them as he effortlessly tore through it upon landing. Before any of them had a chance to register him as a threat, Owen sprang. He darted up to the two on the left and slammed a hand into the torso of each. Flexing his fingers, he easily shredded their armored facades and gripped the firm inner workings that kept them moving.
His guess had been close on their size; each was nearly half a foot taller than he was. Despite this, he showed no apparent effort as he lifted the two constructs off the ground, spread his arms, and then clapped them together like two high-tech tambourines. Sparks and shards of metal rained down on Owen, who ignored it all just as he’d been ignoring the flailing blows that the two bots had been pelting him with since he arrived. He pulled them apart and banged them together again, and again, and again. After the fourth strike there was barely enough left to hold, let alone smash, so he dropped the remains of his first victims and turned to the other two.
This was the first time Owen got a good look at them, as he’d deformed the ones he held too quickly to get a mental picture. Each one possessed a small, dome-like head, as though someone had spray-painted a bowl and turned it upside down. They had awkward, triangular torsos and forearms that were vastly oversized and out of proportion. That anomaly explained itself quickly, as the one on his right raised its hands and fired red beams at Owen’s chest.
He’d forgotten Dispatch’s warning about the lasers. Owen dashed forward to the one attacking him, ignoring the slightly-singed smell of roasting costume, and grabbed it by one of its triangular shoulders. If the robot had the capability of feeling surprise, it certainly didn’t get an opportunity to do so. With his other hand snaring its waist, Owen ripped the metal warrior in half as easily as one would tear serrated paper. Just for good measure, he quickly tore it into a few more pieces
before scattering the remains about with a whip of his arm.
Spinning on his heel, he found the last one shuffling on its feet. Dispatch had said these things learned and were adaptable. It was probably trying to compute a strategy to overcome him.
“Good luck with that,” Owen chuckled. The robot stopped shuffling for the barest of instants, and Owen pounced.
It was too bad, really. He had wanted to put on a better first exhibition for his new teammate.
19.
“Are you completely invulnerable or some shit?”
Hexcellent had been largely silent after they had calmed the civilians and let a DVA cleanup team grab the robot scrap. She’d mostly just been skimming her phone and throwing occasional, furtive glances his way until they had hopped into the town car waiting to take them to their next destination.
“No one is truly invulnerable,” Owen told her. How many times had he used those words? Not only to fans or interviewers, but to upcoming Supers who hadn’t yet learned how important a lesson that was.
“Yeah, you say that, but those robo-douches were whaling on you the whole time you had them, and one hit you full-force with lasers that could tear through concrete and steel. That seems pretty invulnerable to me.”
“I never said I wasn’t tough; that’s part of my power. Invulnerable implies beyond all means of injury, and no one has that ability. No matter who you are, no matter how strong your power, we all have a weakness.” Owen paused for a moment and considered her words. “Wait, how do you know what their lasers could do?”
Hexcellent waved her phone, which was really no more than a big screen, in his face. “It’s all over the web. Those things did a shitload of damage before Heroes got there, and even then managed to put a few out of the fight. You went through them like Thai food through Zone.”
Owen scrunched his brow in response.