by Drew Hayes
“Are you posing?” He set the sizable bit of broken building onto the top of his trash can, keeping his eyes on her the whole time.
“Of course I’m posing.” If she was bothered by being called out on that fact, she didn’t let it show. In fact, she kept the same poised, neutral expression that she’d been wearing pretty much since Owen met her. Even her smiles and reactions were subdued, as though she were constantly on a job interview.
“Let’s back up. Why are you posing? This isn’t a shoot, it’s work.”
“For some of us, those are one and the same,” Bubble Bubble replied. “Many of my sponsors are clothing and makeup companies, which means I have to be camera-perfect at all times. It wouldn’t be proper for someone to capture an unflattering photo of me.” A sphere crackled into existence around several small but jagged pieces of concrete and floated on a slow path toward the trash can.
“I really hope you’re joking. What’s the worst that could happen if someone took one bad picture of you?”
“I’m not concerned with what could happen. I’m worried about what couldn’t.” Even as she manipulated the sphere through the air, Bubble Bubble was able to keep her tone and expression perfectly placid. “A proper presence at all times is what opens doors to other opportunities, like modeling jobs outside of the costume, and those are a stepping stone to roles in television or cinema. Constant composure and beauty are the hallmarks of a successful media icon. We can’t all afford to brush off the press at our convenience.”
She set her latest load into her trash can and looked down. “Pardon me. I’m going to take this over to the large dumpster.” A new sphere appeared, this one encasing the whole trash can, and Bubble Bubble walked off toward the industrial-sized dumpster that had been set up to hold the accumulated debris.
“Don’t let it bother you; she’s a career girl.” Hexcellent came over, broom and small bin in her hands. Useful as her demons were, none were suited for delicate work, and they already had enough lifting power without Big Henry. “B.B. climbed her way up from a bit role on a minor PEERS team in South Dakota. The girl has ambition like a mother fucker. She’s probably the best person on the team at working crowds and cameras.”
“So this job is just. . . what? A step on the path?”
“If you know of another career that gets a Super media exposure and access to professional PR teams and minimizes personal risk, then I’d love to hear it,” Hexcellent said. “I give her shit at home, but honestly I sort of get it. The girl wants to go to the top, and as long she keeps her ass working hard at this job while she’s here then I don’t care where she goes next.”
“You make it sound like you aren’t even friends,” Owen replied, lifting a few chunks of debris into his trash can.
“We’re not. We’re teammates. I trust her to do her job and she trusts me the same way. Before I came on to the team there was someone else she trusted with that duty, and when she leaves for greener pastures I’ll get used to someone new. That’s all work, though; our personal lives stay way the fuck separate. It’s the same for basically everyone on the team, except for the monthly game nights that Galvanize always tries to organize.”
That Galvanize would try and get his team to interact socially didn’t surprise Owen at all; what shocked him was the idea that any team could work so well together yet be so separate. His Hero groups had been thicker than family. Then again, they’d also been facing the very real threat of death every day. That sort of pressure forced bonds between people, making small differences irrelevant.
The more he thought about it, the more he realized the truth in what Hexcellent was saying. Even today, during breakfast, Galvanize had gone over everyone’s schedule and they’d all been doing different things. Helping clean downtown was the only team activity of the day, and it couldn’t possibly have been planned. These four were living entirely separate lives that happened to brush against the others’ on occasion.
He grabbed his trash can and began hauling it to the dumpster, lost in thought. Maybe this was good enough for most of them, but Owen deeply suspected Galvanize wanted more. As the Hero Liaison, it wasn’t technically under Owen’s purview to deal with that sort of thing.
Not that he gave a shit. Owen hadn’t left retirement to sit on the sidelines when he saw a problem. If something needed doing, he was damn sure going to do it. The only hurdle to jump was figuring out how.
25.
“I saw it on the news, but I couldn’t believe it until I confirmed it with my own eyes. Titan, the Titan, back in costume. And doing the work of the little people no less.”
Owen felt his spine stiffen as soon as the voice reached him. He’d been bent over to grab a particularly large piece of rubble that required both hands to keep balanced when those words had washed over him like a wave from the distant seas of his past. Slowly he rose, turning his body until the speaker was in view. It was an older man, one who actually showed his years, unlike Owen. He wore a costume fashioned of red, gold, and white, with lots of burst and flare patterns woven throughout the fabric. A beaming smile was partly concealed by a bushy mustache as he stared across the slowly dissipating wreckage.
“Topsy?” Owen crossed the small gap between them. He towered over the mustached man, who generously could be measured at five-foot-three-inches tall. “Topsy, when the hell did you move to Brewster?”
“’Bout five years ago. After my wife passed—thank you for the flowers, by the way—the city was too full of old memories. Besides, I wanted to be nearer to my kids. That’s a boring question, though. I’m much more interested in what brings you here.”
“It’s a long story, and not the sort you tell when there are reporters about,” Owen said. “The short version is I’m here as a Hero Liaison.”
“I already knew that part. Course, I checked up on you as soon as I heard you were back.”
“Titan, we need your help hauling the dumpster. . .” Galvanize trailed off as he jogged over, realizing that his team member was engaged in conversation. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“Nuttin to apologize for. Job always comes first, no matter what that job might be.”
“Topsy, this is Galvanize; he leads the PEERS team I’m a Hero Liaison for. Galvanize, this is Topsy. He was-”
“Titan, please. A Hero like Topsy needs no introduction.” Galvanize stepped forward and took the older, shorter man’s hand. “It’s a real honor to meet you, sir. The Gentle Hammers were one of my favorite Hero teams growing up.”
“Look at that, some of the young ones still know us old dogs,” Topsy said, giving Galvanize’s hand an enthusiastic shake. “And he even knows a Gentle Hammer other than Titan! Been a while since anyone bothered remembering that.”
Owen winced inwardly at the remark, even though he knew Topsy hadn’t meant it to be painful. The Gentle Hammers had been his first Hero team, founded mostly from Sizemore Tech graduates he’d kept in touch with through their intern years. In the beginning, they’d all been more or less unknowns. When their prestige grew, it grew as a team. Those were the golden days, back when everyone had been working together and happy. Unfortunately, Titan’s reputation soon began to outpace—and eventually eclipse—the rest of the team’s. The Gentle Hammers were still around when his scandal broke, but he, Topsy, and Shock Lock were the last founding members. The team had officially dissolved a few years after he went into exile.
“Topsy, I’m still not sure how I didn’t know you were here. I just checked on all the active Heroes in Brewster last night,” Owen said.
“Ah, but I’m not active anymore, am I? No, I’m working as an advisor and trainer for one of the local Hero teams. I can still jump in if the need demands, though these bones don’t move as quick as they used to. Unlike you, some of us have to actually cope with getting older.”
“If you try and tell me that a little thing like age has slowed you down then I’ll grab you by your ankles and shake you until you admit you’re a mimic,�
� Owen threatened.
“Let’s say it’s half getting older and half getting less suicidal. I’d like to make it to see my grandkids one day. Plus, it’s nice to pass on some of the lessons we earned through blood and broken bones to the next generation. The ones I’m coaching are plenty powerful, but heaven almighty, are they stubborn and impulsive.”
It took all of his self-control for Owen to bite back the chuckle that wanted to escape his lips. Topsy had been the most easily provoked member of The Gentle Hammers, often barreling into fights without so much as basic recon. It was only an incredible ability, loads of skill, and a fair smattering of luck that had kept him alive.
“I’m sure you’re teaching them a lot about control,” Galvanize said. If there was even a hint of sarcasm in his words, he buried it under a mountain of sincerity. “May I ask which team you’re an advisor to?”
“Please just don’t say it’s Elemental Fury,” Owen mumbled under his breath.
The mumbling wasn’t quite as soft as he’d intended, as Topsy replied, “No, they’ve got plenty of retired members of their own to do the advising. I’m helping a newer team, Wild Bucks: mostly offensive types with a couple of Supers for doing defense. They’re getting better, but what I wouldn’t give to snag a Subtlety Hero for them.”
“I’ve heard of Wild Bucks,” Galvanize said. “They came on the scene last year. Lots of physically-based abilities, not unlike The Gentle Hammers.”
“Similar, to be sure. If you’re ever up to stopping by and giving them some pointers, Titan, I’m sure they’d be grateful for the tutelage.”
“Much as I’d love to, I’m already in over my head with the local Hero teams,” Owen said. “I’m supposed to do an ability assessment with Elemental Fury soon, unless Lenny can somehow talk them out if it.”
“Talk them out of it? That doesn’t sound like the Lenny I used to know,” Topsy replied. “If anything I’d expect him to turn the whole production into a circus and take a cut of everything from the clown makeup to the elephant shit.”
“Damn it. . . that does sound a lot more like Lenny. Maybe I should call him.”
“We’ll be done here soon, Titan.” Galvanize’s tone was polite, like he was gently reminding someone of a schedule conflict rather than instructing his teammate to stay on task. “The rest of the evening is yours, barring any unforeseen crises, of course.”
“Up for a drink, Topsy?” Owen asked.
“Another time. I’ve got my team scheduled for some training drills tonight. After how they performed against today’s robot attack, they need to polish their skills.” Topsy nodded to Galvanize, then headed off down the street.
“I didn’t see Wild Bucks on the news reports,” Galvanize said once he thought Topsy was out of earshot.
“They were some of the first to respond,” Owen told him, hours of reading up on the incident finally paying off. “None got killed, but most were incapacitated within the first few minutes. The media leaving them out of the story was actually a pretty kind gesture, one I’m sure Topsy had a lot to do with.”
“Sounds rough.” Galvanize turned back to the street, where things were slowly beginning to look less chaotic. “Speaking of rough, we still need your help with the dumpster. It’s a beast; none of our strongmen can get a grip on the whole thing, so we’re coordinating a group effort.”
“No problem,” Owen said. “Just tell me where the team needs me. That’s what I’m here for.”
26.
“Yes, but. . .”
“That isn’t how I wanted. . .”
“Of course I trust you. . .”
“Now you listen here. . .”
“Fine! Just do whatever you want.”
Owen gripped the phone tightly as he jabbed the button to end the call. Only its hardy construction kept it from flying to pieces. As soon as he’d gotten back to the penthouse from the cleanup, he’d called Lenny, who had unapologetically confirmed his worst fears. Not only did he not get the assessment with Elemental Fury canceled, he managed to make the situation into a bigger shitshow than it already was.
Lenny could run his mouth all day about how Gale might back down now that odds weren’t stacked in her favor; they both knew it was bullshit. Gale was young, powerful, and just successful enough to be insecure about her position. She wasn’t going to back down from a damned volcano, let alone some washed up Hero and his bald agent.
With more care than he felt like using, Owen set the phone down. The last thing he needed to add to his frustration was the mountain of paperwork Greene would surely make him file to replace any of the room’s furnishings. No, he needed to wind down a little, to take his mind off the growing mountain of crap he had to deal with.
For a fleeting moment, he considered hitting up Brin’s Gate, the Hero bar Gale had shown him. It was tempting, but the risk of running into her was more than he was willing to undertake. If she’d been around Lenny today then she was likely to tear Owen apart the moment they laid eyes on one another.
Instead, Owen changed into sweats and headed off toward the gym. While they didn’t have anything that would challenge his lifting abilities, it still calmed him to do basic aerobics and calisthenics. The focused monotony cleared his head, and if he kept at it for enough hours, he occasionally worked up enough of a sweat to release some endorphins.
No sooner had he opened the gym’s door than Owen regretted his decision. Leaping around the rescue simulation part of the gym was Zone, normally spiky hair matted to his scalp thanks to the abundance of sweat pouring from his body. Briefly, Owen considered backing away from the door and hoping his teammate didn’t notice. He decided against it, though, walking in with just enough noise to be sure Zone knew he was no longer alone. If the kid wanted to hate him, that was fine, but Owen would be damned if he let that affect his choices. Besides, if he really wanted to help Galvanize pull his team together, he would need to deal with this issue sooner or later.
“Evening,” Owen said, keeping his greeting as neutral as possible.
Zone did a flip off a fake roof, landing lightly several feet away. When he came down, an incredibly short wince of pain shot across his face. Most people wouldn’t have noticed it or recognized it for what it was, but Owen knew in an instant. He’d spent too many years around other Heroes, people whose jobs demanded a physicality that was impossible for most to manage for long. The kid had worn something in his body down and he was trying to keep it hidden.
“What are you doing here? None of the shit we have could train you.”
“Maybe I came for the pleasant atmosphere,” Owen shot back. He regretted it as soon as he’d spoken; he needed to try and mend this bridge, not torch it further.
“That got wrecked the minute you walked in.” Zone grabbed a towel and started to head for the door.
“All right, kid, enough of this crap. You got something you want to say? We’re right here, just you and me. No one to tell you to calm down, no one to hold you back. Either say your piece or quit all the sniping bullcrap.”
Zone froze midway to the door and looked back over his shoulder. “Go eat shit. I don’t have to do this your way. If I want to keep calling you out every chance I get and never tell you the reason why, I damn sure will.”
“That would be a great point, except that you’ve been trying to lay into me since I got here. Only circumstance has stopped you. I’m not telling you to do it my way; I’m trying to give you the chance to do it yours.” Owen crossed his arms and met Zone’s withering glare. “But if you want to keep up the snide ridiculousness, go ahead. I somehow doubt you’ll get any harder to ignore.”
“You just think you know everything, don’t you?”
“I know you’re pissed off at me, sorry, at Titan, and clearly have been long before I was ever on your team. What’s the deal? You think I’m a shithead for walking away? That’s fair. Dislike that I lied to the public? Tough shit; I was lying to people that I cared about way more, myself included. Hell, maybe you j
ust don’t like gay people.”
“Fuck you!” Zone yelled, all composure gone as he stormed back toward Owen. “You really want to do this? Fine! I hate you—not Titan, you, Owen—because of what you could have done. Look at you! You’re tough, strong, and intimidating as all hell. If you’d come out of the gates as gay, you could have given an icon to all the Supers out there who wanted to be Heroes but were scared their orientation didn’t fit the masculine ideal. You could have been the symbol they held up to show that being gay didn’t mean they couldn’t kick ass. You could have given people hope and encouragement and instead you did the exact fucking opposite! After your scandal, every openly gay Hero has had to live in the shadow of the bullshit you pulled.”
“Yeah, that’s a damn good reason to be pissed.” Owen’s voice was calm as he stared at the red-faced young man in front of him. Zone had gotten so worked up during his speech that a few flecks of spittle had struck Owen on the chest. Owen had expected to get pissed himself when this finally came to a head, but instead he felt oddly serene. Zone hadn’t said anything Owen hadn’t told himself countless times over the past decade. He already knew he’d fucked things up. Being called out on it didn’t change things.
“Is that it? Is that your apology?”
“No, Zone. I was raised that we don’t sincerely apologize with words; we do it with actions. Words are washed away by time and memory. They’re easy to create and easier to forget. I owe an apology to a lot of folks, the ones I lied to and the ones I let down by leaving. I’m saying I’m sorry to everyone, you included, by going back out there and trying to do good. You may never accept my apology; I know plenty of people won’t. That’s damned sure your right, but I’ll be out there making it regardless. That is literally all I can do.”
“I don’t think it will ever be enough,” Zone said, the fire and energy gone slowing draining out of him.