by Drew Hayes
“Who moved me to priority?”
“Unfortunately I am not at liberty to release that information,” Dispatch told him.
Now that was something interesting. Plenty of Heroes had worked their way up to get some say in priority management, but very few had the sort of clearance to move people around without it being on official record. That spoke to someone who was deeply connected, probably with ties to the DVA. With all the noise Owen had been making about his interest in the robots, it was going to be tough to figure out just who had shuffled him into the queue.
“Thanks for letting me know. Even if I’m off the comm, please try to reach me for that. I really want a crack at those things.”
“Of course. I will follow priority protocol as required,” Dispatch said. “Do you have anything else you wish to ask about?”
“No, guess I may as well grab breakfast before my damn assessment.”
“There is no need to worry. Assessments are safe, carefully monitored procedures.”
“Mine’s a bit different than most,” Owen said.
“I’m fully aware of that; yours comes with political ramifications in the Hero field. May I offer some advice to your predicament?”
“By all means, I’d love to hear what you have to say.”
“Be polite, be careful, and be gracious in either victory or defeat.”
It was exactly in line with what Owen had expected her to say. That was Dispatch: always detached, always appropriate, always controlled.
Except. . . she wasn’t quite done talking yet.
“Also, make sure to really kick some ass.”
Owen nearly dropped one of the gloves he’d been slipping over his sizable hands in surprise.
“Beg pardon?”
“You heard me. Titan has been more myth than man for many years now, but some of us remember who you used to be. We’ve been waiting for you to come back to us. Don’t make your first true performance a lackluster affair. The world still needs a Titan. Remind everyone who’s forgotten exactly why that is.”
“I. . . um. . . yeah. Yes.” Titan felt his resolve strengthen. She was right. He hadn’t come back to this world to play politics or patty-cake with an insecure Hero. He’d come back to make a difference, to ensure that every time a criminal said his name they used the same terrified whisper that children used to ask who was there in a dark room. The more scared of him they were, the more often they surrendered, the less people got hurt. It was Heroing 101, and it was time to remind people why entire gangs would once throw down their weapons at the mere mention of the name Titan.
“Thanks, Dispatch.”
“I have no idea what you’re referring to. It is merely my duty to relay all relevant information as needed.” There might have been a touch of snarkiness in her voice, but with Dispatch it was nearly impossible to tell. That was okay, though. She’d already given him enough for today.
41.
When Owen emerged from his room, he found the rest of his team already waiting in the kitchen, clustered together near the breakfast table. Zone looked grumpy and Bubble Bubble seemed bored. Owen barely had time to register their presence before a wave of tantalizing scents hit him at the same time they realized he was there.
“Surprise!” Galvanize announced. “We made you a good luck breakfast.”
The scent was becoming more defined now, and as it sank in Owen realized it was both familiar and delicious.
“Is that. . . did you all make actual waffles and bacon?” The rumble from his stomach nearly overshadowed Owen’s words. Aside from a few hastily grabbed meals from street vendors, he’d been eating at the penthouse since arriving in Brewster, and each of those meals had been a balanced blend of nutrition and terrible.
“Snuck in the ingredients myself,” Hexcellent said, a not-small amount of pride in her voice. “We’re still eating the usual stuff—God knows Greene will shit a kitten if we gain an ounce. But we thought you deserved a real meal before your throw down.”
“I envy your ability to put down such food and retain such a svelte figure,” Bubble Bubble said. From her, it was about as involved and nice a compliment as he could expect.
“Wow. I, um, I didn’t expect this. Thanks. All of you. I mean it.” Sometimes Owen hated his difficulty expressing emotions. It wasn’t like it came from some macho complex; his damned tongue just went dumb when he got overwhelmed by sentiment. When his sons were born, he’d barely been able to string three words together.
“We wanted you to know we support you, as a member of our team,” Galvanize said. If there was any guile or subterfuge in his words, it was too well-hidden for Owen to sense. No, this was just the sort of thing that Galvanize did, because he was a good man and a damned fine leader. Owen found himself thinking that if only the young PEERS had been born with a better ability, he would have made a fine Hero.
“I appreciate i-” Owen was cut off by another rumble from his stomach; this one actually managed to overtake his words.
“We get it, you’re thankful. Now come eat before the offices downstairs start complaining about the noise,” Hexcellent instructed him.
Owen did just that, walking into the kitchen and piling up a plate of lopsided waffles and slightly overdone bacon. Good as their intentions were, the fact remained that none of them had much experience cooking this kind of food. Not that Owen said a word about it; he was so touched by the gesture that everything could have been burned to charcoal and he’d have devoured each bite with gusto.
“Tell us about what this trial of yours involves,” Hexcellent demanded once they were all seated at the table. “Us little shits have never gone through such high and mighty rituals.”
“Be thankful; they’re just overgrown pissing contests that the DVA sanctions.” Owen shook his head even as he stuffed it with a mouthful of waffle. They’d brought in legitimate syrup to go with it, the kind that was more sugar than substance. It was perfect. “Basically, they’ll be testing the various aspects of my ability using their own team. Technically this is to get a sense of what I’m capable of handling, but a lot of times Heroes use it as a chance to prove they’re better than someone else.”
“Heroes acting like dicks, imagine that,” Zone muttered as he stirred around his bowl of gray-looking oatmeal.
“What kinds of tests will they be doing?” Galvanize asked, quickly skating over Zone’s comment.
“Offense, defense, and adaptability,” Owen explained. “The first two are straightforward: they just see what you can dish out and what you can withstand. Supers have too much variety of powers to try and break it down more granularly than that. Usually they’ll have you square off against someone who’s strong in what you’re trying to break. So for offense, they’ll put me against Granite, to see if I’m able to crack him. For defense, I’ll probably have to deal with some of Gale’s most powerful attacks.”
“You said there was a third one, too,” Bubble Bubble pointed out.
“Yeah, that one is the fucker.” Owen barely stifled the urge to let out a frustrated sigh. “Adaptability is where they hand you a hypothetical scenario and see how you deal with it. Shit like ‘you have five minutes to defeat a teleporter before he successfully sets a bomb off’ or ‘there are two citizens in the building behind you and a rock elementalist is attacking your team.’ The one condition is they obviously can’t be tests that require lethal force to solve, because the people doing the testing will be playing the villains. Even in a power assessment, killing is pretty strongly frowned upon.”
“Damn, that does seem like a bitch,” Hexcellent agreed. “Any clue what Elemental Fury will throw at you?”
“At this point, I think they’ll go with a classic: the ambush. I’m doing basic patrol and a gang of criminal Supers jumps out and tries to bring me down. It’s not fancy, but it lets them use every member of their team against me at once, and since I don’t have any travel powers, I’ll have to fight each of them to surrender.” Owen took a bite of the overl
y crispy bacon, which helped calm his nerves a touch.
“Given the nature of your abilities, it seems like that would actually favor you,” Bubble Bubble pointed out. “After all, you are renowned for your indestructability.”
“That’s exactly why I think they’ll pick it,” Owen explained. “It lets them get every one of their people in play, and they can fight me on what’s supposed to be my home turf. If they can beat me on that count, it will say a whole hell of a lot about their skill. If they fail, then they have the deniability of it only being because my power is so strong. Besides, there are more ways to incapacitate someone than just by knocking them unconscious.”
“Well, whatever they pull, we’ll be there to see it,” Galvanize said. “We’ve all been given the afternoon off to watch your assessment.”
“Greene was okay with this?”
“Mr. Greene insisted, actually,” Galvanize told him. “He sees the benefits in showing a united front and cheering one of our team members on to victory.”
Greene was smart; Owen had to give him that. No matter how much he might dislike Titan at the moment, the fact still remained that tying the team to his image was good for the brand. The man could put business over personal feelings, a skill that made him especially dangerous. Regardless of the reason why they’d gotten permission, Owen was glad to have his team at the assessment. It would be nice to have a few people cheering for him.
Especially since they might be the only ones.
42.
Unlike the PEERS team, Elemental Fury didn’t have the luxury of living in the middle of a high-rise. No real Hero team could ever have gotten away with such a location for a base. Aside from defense concerns, of which there would be plenty, putting a base in a shared building broke one of the core tenants that Heroes lived by: it endangered civilians. It took a special breed of stupid to try and hit Heroes where they lived, but unfortunately, stupid was never in short enough supply. When the attacks came, there would be collateral damage, and that meant anywhere that a Hero laid his or her head had to be as isolated as possible.
When Owen first saw Elemental Fury’s base, he was surprised that they’d taken such an old-school approach. Their base was located in the middle of a sizable lake, built atop an island that was almost certainly crafted by some skilled Super. It was several stories high with ample cameras in view; Owen could only imagine the arsenal housed within that wasn’t so easy to spot. He spent a while marveling at the place until he remembered that they were a legacy team: the base had been passed down with the title. With a legacy team there would have been at least a dozen Heroes, each with their own skills and connections, who had contributed to the defenses over the years.
For today, a metal walkway ran from the edge of the lake all the way to the base’s front door; a few folks in capes and masks were currently making their way across. Owen headed over to the walkway with his team trailing several steps behind. Though they’d come to offer support, they also understood his need to focus before the actual brawling began.
As Owen drew close to the walkway, he spotted a familiar form and felt an unexpected sense of relief wash over him.
“Lenny, it’s good to see you.” The massive Hero shook hands with the small, round agent. “I thought you might still be pissed about me accidently pushing Gale into this.”
“Come on, now, why would I ever be mad about that? You know I get a cut from your end of the profits, and have you even seen the pre-order numbers? I could take a month-long vacation on one of those islands where they carry you around everywhere.”
“Except you don’t take vacations,” Owen pointed out.
“That’s no reason to ruin my fantasy,” Lenny said.
The rest of the team caught up to Owen and Lenny, most of them looking at the bald man speaking confidently to Titan with blatant curiosity.
“You must be my client’s team,” Lenny said, piping up before any of them had the chance to. “Great job you’ve all been doing keeping him in line. Galvanize, loved the way you played on camera at that last rescue. Bubble Bubble, that recent magazine spread was fantastic; wouldn’t be surprised if they call you for a centerfold gig. Zone, congratulations on the new Punch Juice commercial, I hear it’s testing fantastic in the Asian markets. Hexcellent, don’t be surprised if a new makeup company tries to open negotiations with you next week. Word on the grapevine is that you’re turning into a hot commodity and a lot of folks are interested.”
Lenny paused for a moment as the four momentarily-dumbstruck Supers stared at him. “Oh, my apologies. I’m Lenny, Titan’s agent.”
“You certainly are. . . thorough with your knowledge,” Galvanize said, finally managing to find his words.
“It’s my job, my passion, and my pleasure,” Lenny replied. “Why don’t you four go on ahead while I take my boy over to the assessment area? He’s never been here and gets lost easily. The people working the door know to show you to my viewing area; funny how no one noticed I worked VIP seats for myself into the contracts they signed.”
“There’s really no need-” Galvanize began, trying to protest.
“Nope, none of that. You’re with one of mine then you’re with me. Hustle along, now; if I don’t deliver this meathead on time everyone has to wait for the show.”
With little choice and no idea how to protest, the PEERS team headed down the walkway towards the entrance. Hexcellent paused to glance back and throw Owen a “Rock On” hand signal, which he chose to believe was her version of a thumbs up for luck.
“Nice kids,” Lenny said once they were gone. “Sure you wanted to bring them along for this?”
“They demanded to come. Said we were a team and they were going to cheer for me.”
“That a fact?” Lenny glanced up at his old friend. “Still having that trouble with thinking they’re not as good as you?”
“No. I think that problem is good and dead.”
“Fantastic. Now that you’ve found your humility, let’s go remind everyone else why you actually are better than them.”
* * *
When Owen emerged from the elevator adjacent to the training arena, he wasn’t surprised to find the entire Elemental Fury team waiting for him. Though the walls were solid, with no windows in sight, he could still feel the familiar tingle of eyes upon him: cameras embedded all over the place, no doubt, picking up everything he said or did. No movement would go unseen, no gesture unrecorded. He was under the public eye once more, and the pressure from their scrutiny was like a dull pain jamming into the back of his head. Much as he loved Hero work, he’d managed to forget how much he hated this part.
“Welcome to our training grounds, Titan.” Gale’s voice was loud, well-enunciated, and authoritative. She’d clearly had ample experience playing to the crowds and cameras. It was no surprise; being the leader, the face, of a team this popular demanded some theatrical skills. “You are here for a standard power assessment, to determine your skill levels in case we should ever need to call upon you for assistance or a team up.”
“Yeah. Sure. That’s exactly why I’m here.” There was no attempt to disguise the biting sarcasm in his tone. Lenny was going to give him shit for this, and honestly, at this point Owen didn’t care. They might have corralled him into this situation, but they couldn’t make him dance like a good puppet.
“Excellent.” If Gale was flustered by his response, she kept it completely off her face. The woman was a pro, no question about it. “Let me introduce you to our team. You’ve already met Granite, I believe.”
Granite was in rock-monster form, but he gave Owen a small wave that seemed out of character for such an intimidating being. It was a nice reminder that not everyone on the team hated him.
“To his right is Spring and Birdsman,” Gale continued.
An older man wearing a costume that looked oddly arcane gave a bow, as did the lean young woman next to him. She wore a tight costume of bright greens and yellows, although there was a silver sash wrapp
ed around her chest that didn’t quite match the motif.
“And on my left you will find Misdirection.”
It was hard to tell if Misdirection was male or female; the flowing costume was topped off by loose black sack of a mask that obscured any details about his or her head. Thankfully, Misdirection actually spoke a greeting instead of bowing.
“A joy to meet you,” said a distinctly female voice from within the hood.
“Same here,” Owen replied. “I’ve heard great things about your entire team, and I have nothing but respect for what you’ve accomplished.” That part he was able to say with sincerity. Stupid politics aside, these people saved a lot of lives, and that was always going to be worth admiration.
“As do we you,” Gale said. “Now that introductions are done, shall we commence the assessment?”
“This is your party; just tell me where you want me to dance.”
“Of course. Let’s keep it standard and start with offense. Granite will serve as your sparring partner.”
Owen nodded and headed into the center of the training arena. So far it was going like he’d expected, but it was unlikely that would continue. In real battle nothing ever kept to plan. All he could hope for was that he’d be able to roll with the changes, and the punches, as they came.
43.
As Owen and Granite got situated in the center of the room, the others moved behind a clear barrier that had been erected in one of the corners. While each was probably capable of handling themselves in case of danger, there was no need to take silly chances. After all, when two strongmen went after each other, there was bound to be some shrapnel and collateral damage.
“Listen, before we get started: you’re basically invulnerable to raw force attacks, right?” Owen whispered. The censors should bleep out any discussion of power weaknesses in the video feed, just as they would an identity slip, but it never hurt to be extra cautious with this sort of information.