Corpies (Super Powereds Spinoff Book 1)

by Drew Hayes

  “Sometimes, just sometimes, I honestly forget how big a pair of brass ones you’ve got swinging down there. To be clear: you want me to take on as a client, for the first time ever, a corpie. And not one that’s prime real estate, but one going through a media shitstorm that will likely end up torpedoing her career.”

  “She’s probably toast,” Owen agreed. “Unless someone with real skill, a legendary level of talent, were to take her on and steer her to safe shores.”

  “Flattery, a nice touch. Little overt, but that’s about what I expect from you.” Owen could hear Lenny sigh. He imagined his agent pacing about, weighing the pros and cons while time was pitted against potential income in that balding head of his. “Listen, Titan, you and me go back a long way, and there’s not much I wouldn’t do for you if needed, but that’s for you. This girl is going to need a hell of a lot of work to keep afloat, and even more if she wants to come out ahead. Truthfully, that might not be a bad thing, though. I’ve been thinking about taking on a few of the corpies with real earning power out there, and pulling her from the fire would be the best exposure I could ask for to show them what I bring to the table. That said, this one isn’t going to be free.”

  “Tell me what you want,” Owen said.

  “You know damned well what I want,” Lenny shot back. “This year’s Intramurals have two of the supposedly heaviest hitters to come out of the HCP in a decade squaring off against each other. I want what no other agent gets: a seat at the show to judge them for myself.”

  “This year it’s being held at Lander, I’ve got almost no clout there. If it were Sizemore, sure, I could swing a few things, but all I’ve got at Lander is kids who won’t talk to me. Why not do the talk for Blaine? He’s more likely to be able to get you in.”

  “Already agreed to that, but he’s not sure he can swing it. All he could promise was support. Now, if someone still active in the field, someone who might still have a few markers to call in were to ring old friends in the Intramural Committee, that could give me the extra push I need to watch this firsthand.”

  “I. . . can make some calls. That’s the most I’m able to promise, Lenny. A lot of people voided their chips to me when things went south and you know it. I’ll do everything I can, and I’ll take on some favors if needed, but that doesn’t mean I can make you a promise.” Owen had once been a man who prided himself on never breaking his word. Despite the fact that this character feature had ultimately unraveled along with the rest of his life, he still made it a point not to make a promise unless he truly believed he could keep it.

  “Tell you what: you promise me that you’ll do your best and I’ll let it ride for now.” A soft fwump of sound filled the receiver, and Owen knew that Lenny had just let himself fall into his favorite easy chair.

  “Really?”

  “Really. I’m not dumb, I know you can only do so much. Still, you’re a determined guy. If you say you’ll give it your all, then that’s the most I can ask for. Make me that promise, and you can send the girl by tomorrow morning. I doubt she has any other pressing appointments to make. I’m not agreeing to take her on whole hog just yet, but I can at least help get her through the rough patch.”

  Owen let out a long sigh of relief. Just knowing Lenny would help made the whole situation less scary and more manageable. He wondered if this was how people felt when they saw a Hero drop in on a scene, like suddenly things might just be okay after all.

  “I promise, Lenny. Anything I can do to get you a seat, I’ll do it. Calls start going out tomorrow.”

  “Then tell your girl she has a new ally. It’ll be a hard road, but I’ve got a few ideas for how to spin things. Now if I can just make that damn dean push from his side, I might get treated to a real spectacle.”

  “These kids supposed to be that strong?” Owen asked.

  “Remember Hank Rhodes? One of them is his son.”

  Owen indeed remembered Hank Rhodes; while the man hadn’t become a Hero, he was a Super of incredible power and often helped train Heroes when asked. He’d never met Hank’s son, but if his power was close to his father’s, he would be hell to defeat.

  “Who’s the poor bastard going up against him?”

  “Graham DeSoto’s granddaughter,” Lenny replied. “Both, by the way, undefeated in their entire time at the HCP. That’s something that, correct me if I’m wrong, not even the great Titan managed to accomplish.”

  “No need to be mean about it,” Owen said. “I came a long way in those four years, and it’s not in how you start a race. It’s about how you finish.”

  “Heh, well, you definitely finished strong. That was another Intramural I had to scheme, bribe, and favor my way in to watch. Worth it, though. You made for one hell of a show.”

  “I like to think I still do.”

  73.

  Owen was faced with a problem, one he wasn’t quite sure how to deal with. Despite having come up against this dilemma several times before, he still found himself semi-flummoxed each time it reared its head. In fact, it occurred with such regularity that it was amazing he managed to continue being surprised by it.

  Sunday had arrived once more, and with it came the team’s mandatory day off. Even after several weeks with them, Own still wasn’t comfortable just dicking away an entire day. Sometimes he went active, pitching in as best he could as a Hero, but that was off the table this time. After the previous day’s robot battle, he had exactly one lone Titan costume remaining. Delivery for his next batch was scheduled for Monday morning. Until then, he couldn’t risk losing his last outfit in case he needed to suit up for a real emergency.

  Most of his team was busy, with Bubble Bubble off to see Lenny, Galvanize catching up on paperwork, and Hexcellent having a date day with Spyda. She’d offered to let him join, but a picnic in the park seemed a touch too romantic for him to intrude on. Still, Owen had to give her man points; despite the tattoos and hard rock persona, he seemed to be a real softy. Given how protective Owen was starting to feel about his team, Spyda’s dutifulness as a boyfriend was as good for him as it was for Hexcellent.

  The only one who didn’t seem to have plans was Zone, who had settled into a semi-peaceful silence where Owen was concerned. Old grudges were slow to die, even when one realized the foundation might not be as solid as once believed. Owen understood; the kid was lugging around years of confusion, resentment, and anger that had ended up aimed toward people like Titan. Given the circumstances, Owen was actually very happy they’d managed to get this far. He didn’t intend to push it by intruding on the spiky-haired young man’s personal time.

  Owen briefly considered calling up Jeremiah to see how things were going with the robot hunt, but thought better of it. Pestering him wouldn’t make the information come any faster, and at worst, it might give Jeremiah unintentional encouragement. Owen still wasn’t quite sure where he fell on his fellow Hero’s romantic advances. The man was confident, skilled, and capable; all traits Owen found desirable. However, he was also young, brash, and cocky. Maybe in the Subtlety world things were different, but Owen had seen too many Heroes with those traits end up in the ground to dismiss the possibility that Jeremiah might get himself killed. All of which ignored the larger issue of if he was ready to actually date again.

  In those years at the bar, when he’d just been Owen, things were simpler. He was merely himself, a muscular entrepreneur who was maybe a bit too strong for what even his large frame implied. Now, things were different. If he started dating again, especially with another Hero, he’d be doing it as Titan. Maybe that would be a good thing; owning who he was and moving on with his life publicly could be the catalyst that finally took the sting out of the Titan Scandal. Then again, maybe it would undo everything he’d been working hard to fix since he returned. It was a thorny, complicated issue, and Owen was determined to take his time in choosing the proper course. Rash decisions had taken too much from him in the past. Whatever he chose, whether it was for the better or worse, it would be delib
erate. He would own his decisions.

  Unfortunately, the decision of what to do with his day off still loomed overhead, and that one was proving to be quite a toughie. He could try vegging out in the living room, maybe pick up a few of Hexcellent’s games, but he knew himself well enough to guess that doing so would just lead to boredom and the sense of a wasted day. After five more minutes of thought, Owen decided to give it a go anyway, as he was unable to come up with anything else that might prove better.

  Stepping into the living room, Owen was surprised to find not just Zone but also two men in lab coats. Edgar and Kirk, or “the docs”, were standing watchfully over Zone while he skimmed, signed, and initialed a large stack of thick papers.

  “Trying to requisition extra carbs?” Owen almost regretted going with a bad joke to announce himself, but as soon as they heard his voice, Edgar looked up and smiled.

  “Ah, Titan! What a treat. We so rarely get to see you about, but I suspect that’s to be expected with your indomitable physique. You don’t require our check-ups or assistance.”

  “Or advice, that you can then ignore,” Kirk added. That barb wasn’t directed at Owen, though. The shorter man’s gaze was fixed firmly on Zone, who scratched his name in the stack of documents even faster.

  “Ahem, yes, that either,” Edgar agreed, shuffling awkwardly. “Though, if you’d be willing, we’d love to do some basic calibration tests on you. Technically Heroes are exempt from having to fulfill that requirement for the event, but it would still be fascinating to administer.”

  “I’m sorry, event?”

  “The charity show, remember?” Zone’s sneer was half-assed as his attention was still on the myriad of paper set before him. “Contests, sports, meet-and-greets; Supers from every public occupation coming together to raise money for those in need. We signed up for it last month, and it starts next week.”

  “Must have slipped my mind,” Owen muttered. Between Gale and her team, hordes of robots, and Topsy’s students, the charity event had dropped off the backburner of his mind and fallen under the stove.

  “Quite all right, it’s not as though you need any additional training to be able to perform well,” Edgar noted.

  “And you aren’t likely to blow your damn knees out, either.” Kirk grabbed the stack of papers from Zone as the last signature was put in place, yanking it away angrily. “But I guess that’s no one’s problem but the participant’s.”

  “It’s my body; I’ll decide what risks I take. Mordent has its waivers, so leave me alone.” Zone clicked the pen shut and twirled it through the air, tossing it to Edgar before getting up from the coffee table and walking briskly past Owen.

  “Kirk, you could have been a bit nicer about everything,” Edgar chastised. “But I do wish he’d have listened to reason.”

  Owen didn’t have to ask what they were talking about; he’d seen the way Zone winced for himself. The kid was tearing his body apart with all the sports and rescue work, and unfortunately, he didn’t have one that fixed itself. Owen had half-suspected he was the only one who knew about Zone’s condition, but it seemed the docs had caught on too. Galvanize did once say they were brilliant, after all, mentally-gifted beings who were well-versed in all manners of. . . science.

  The realization came crashing down on Owen as the docs were gathering their things and beginning to leave.

  “Those calibrations you wanted to do. . . got time for them today?”

  Edgar perked up so visibly that Owen feared the wiry man might have tweaked his back. “For you? Certainly we do! Kirk, push everything back. This will be a rare and fascinating opportunity.”

  “I’m surprised you’re willing to do this at all,” Kirk said, eyeing Owen suspiciously.

  “It’s not totally altruistic. There’s an interesting work problem I’m dealing with, and I’d love to get your perspectives on it.”

  “Ah, quid pro quo.” Kirk nodded; clearly this fit better into his world view than simple generosity. “In that case, please follow us downstairs.”

  74.

  “This feels. . . risky.” Bubble Bubble set down the stack of papers on Lenny’s desk. The outline of their counter-strategy to her scandal was in-depth, smartly-worded, and shockingly comprehensive, especially given that the whole thing had only gone down the night before. She’d known anyone who represented Titan would be good, but even she was taken aback at so much planning done so soon. That said, this was a far bolder strategy than she’d been expecting.

  “Risky is an understatement. This is outright courting trouble,” Lenny corrected. “If done improperly, this strategy will torch what little goodwill you have left, pretty much putting you out of business. Whereas if you just try to lie low and weather the storm, you’ll probably end up back to square one, career-wise.”

  “I take it there’s some greater gain to be had by this strategy then, if the chance at loss is so much higher.”

  Lenny smiled, a surprisingly charming feature on the unkempt, clearly sleep-deprived man. “Smart call. I’ve still got Heroes that I’d have to handhold to that realization.” He reached over and rested a thick finger on the stack of papers resting in front of Bubble Bubble. “Your old image, really your whole character, is dead. No matter what we do, no matter how we frame it, that demure gal who embodied polite, quiet beauty is never coming back. If we sit this through silently, playing it defensive, all we’re doing is clinging to the last vestiges of something that’s already lost. If, on the other hand, we take this route, then we can create a new image out of the ashes from your old one. But, like I said, that only works if you can play it right.”

  Bubble Bubble picked up the documents once more, Lenny’s finger sliding off as soon as she touched the papers. “What do you need from me to make this work?”

  “There will be lots of sound bites, some PR work, and I’ve got an interview tentatively scheduled for this afternoon to kick things off. But more than anything I need to know if you believe you can make that girl come to life. You have to be bold, certain, and unwavering. A lot of people aren’t going to like what you’re selling. This isn’t some milquetoast persona that no one talks about and some people admire. You’re going to piss some folks off, and if you give so much as an inch, that’s all it will take to tear the whole thing down. Only you can say for sure if you’re up to the challenge, and really, only you should make the call on something this dangerous.”

  “It’s certainly a change of pace,” Bubble Bubble agreed. “But in a lot of ways, I like this one better. If nothing else, she seems a lot more fun. Tell me something though, if you don’t mind. Were I one of your actual clients, a Hero, would this be the strategy you recommended for me?”

  “Depends on the Hero, but probably not,” Lenny admitted, no sense of shame in his voice. “Heroes need to play it safer; they’re civil servants sent in to keep people safe. Making a Hero polarizing is dangerous. Some folks will outright refuse to be saved by someone they disagree with. If a Hero were in your shoes, I’d have to recommend something that was a half-step between this and playing it safe.”

  Lenny leaned forward slightly in his chair, a wicked gleam suddenly twinkling in his eye. “But in that situation, I’d be silently wishing I could recommend this tactic to them. Heroes don’t have the freedom that you do, Bubble Bubble. I can’t make you use it, or even tell you if it’s right to do so. All I can say is this is the only strategy I can see that has a chance at putting you ahead of where you were before the fiasco started.”

  “You do know how to sell a pitch, I have to give you that,” Bubble Bubble said. She skimmed the documents one last time before setting them down. “This new version, she seems a bit combative. Do you think people will respond to that?”

  “In my experience, it’s not the fact that someone’s aggressive that turns people off so much as what they're aggressive about. And yeah, you’re going to alienate the shit out of a lot of folks. But you’re also going to draw in a plenty of people who are just as sick of
this bullshit as you.”

  “If I do it right,” Bubble Bubble added.

  “Goes without saying,” Lenny agreed. “Think you can handle being a little more abrasive and mouthy than before?”

  Bubble Bubble chuckled, a soft, practiced sound that couldn’t hide a touch of harshness. “I didn’t make it this far by not having a bit of asshole in me. Honestly, keeping that suppressed was the hardest part of my job. . . far worse than jumping into fires or risking injury. I understand that this has the potential to utterly lay waste to my career, but since that could happen anyway, I think I’d prefer to go out swinging.”

  With a quick motion, Lenny produced a new stack of documents from under his desk and slid them over. “That was what I wanted to hear. Welcome aboard, Bubble Bubble; if you sign these then you’re officially one of my clients.”

  “Wasn’t I already?”

  “Yes and no,” Lenny said. “Titan asked me to help you, so I was going to do that no matter what. But there’s a hefty amount of difference between getting you through one scandal and actually taking you on as a client. To be frank, I dislike working with people that have no guts. Life, at least this life, requires people take chances. If you want the big pay-off, you have to be willing to take the dangerous gambles. You’re not obligated to sign on, of course. I just wanted to let you know the offer was on the table.”

  Bubble Bubble stared at the contract for a long moment, then motioned for Lenny to slide the pages over. “Mr. Greene, the man who manages us at Mordent, wanted me to take the safe route. Hole up, let the team do damage control, try and wait for it to pass. That’s the sane move, isn’t it?”

  “Unquestionably so,” Lenny agreed.

  “Then I’m happy to sign on with you. I too dislike working with the gutless.” Bubble Bubble grabbed and pen and began flipping through the papers, initialing as she read. “Besides, I can’t wait to see the look on Hexcellent’s face when she finds out I’m challenging her for the title of baddest bitch in the house.”