by Lucas Flint
I found it hard to look at Rubberman’s face. “You.”
“Me?” Rubberman tilted his head to the side. “What are you talking about? I’m not paranoid.”
“Then where’s your proof that Sasha Munroe has done anything wrong?” I asked. I met his gaze with my own, because I found it easier to talk when I was looking at him. “Where’s your proof that Sasha is anything other than a businesswoman who just wants your business?”
Rubberman’s eyes narrowed. “Beams, what, exactly, did Barriers tell you?”
“Nothing,” I said. “He just helped me think through this situation. And I’ve got to say, I don’t like it at all, not one bit.”
“I don’t, either, but that’s why I’m having Adams hack Takeshi’s flash drive,” said Rubberman, gesturing at Adams, who was busily tapping away at the keyboard without hesitation. “Once we crack the drive, we’ll have all the proof we need to put Sasha in jail for good.”
“And what if we don’t?”
Rubberman’s frowned deepened. “What do you mean, ‘what if we don’t’?”
My hands shook, despite my best efforts to keep them still. “What if all we find is just plans about their business and stuff? Marketing strategies, contracts, and stuff like that? What do we do if we don’t find any evidence of criminal activity at all?”
Rubberman folded his arms across his chest. “I suppose that’s always a possibility, but I doubt it. You yourself said that Takeshi had this flash drive on his person. I can’t imagine why Sasha’s bodyguard would be carrying around such an important flash drive if all it had was their marketing plans for the next six months.”
“But it still might have nothing incriminating on it,” I said. “And they know that we stole it from them. I mean, they have to know by now, because Takeshi will probably notice that he doesn’t have it anymore and will be able to put two and two together to figure it out. What do you think Sasha will do when she finds out? Don’t you think she might take us to court and sue us for millions of dollars? Maybe even enough to put us out of business entirely?”
“Well, I guess that is a possibility to consider,” said Rubberman with a shrug. “But like I said, I don’t think it will happen. And anyway, I’m perfectly willing to fight Sasha in court if I have to.”
“Even if you don’t have any reason to? Even if you are the one who committed a crime, not her?”
“Well, now, I don’t think I’d—”
“And what about me?” I said, interrupting Rubberman without hesitation. “If this goes to court, will I get dragged into it? Will my identity be exposed and my life ruined, all because you were paranoid for no reason?”
“Hey, I didn’t tell you to steal that flash drive,” said Rubberman, a hint of annoyance in his voice. “I didn’t even know it existed until you showed it to me. You did that entirely on your own.”
“Yeah, but you wanted me to download some of her emails onto our flash drive, right?” I said. “We had every intention of stealing something from her, even if we didn’t end up stealing the thing we wanted. And on the basis of what, your own bias against Sasha or something like that?”
“Alex, we already had this discussion,” said Rubberman. “You don’t know Sasha like I do. She’s a vile person.”
“Maybe, but that doesn’t mean that she did anything against the law,” I said. I pointed an accusing finger at Rubberman. “Did you even think about what would happen if this all turns out to be a wild goose chase? We could end up in jail or worse. Do you really want to drag your name through the mud and ruin both of our reputations just to satisfy your own paranoia?”
“Paranoia?” Rubberman repeated. “Alex, you’re getting upset. You don’t really mean what you’re saying.”
“How do you know I don’t?” I said. “This is a huge mistake, Rubberman. You are risking everything for no reason at all except for your personal dislike of Sasha. This isn’t rational.”
“Listen, Alex, I know it might not make a lot of sense to you, but—”
“But nothing! I don’t want anything to do with the fall out of this. I’m too young to go to jail or to go through the court system and have my reputation ruined forever. You don’t understand, because you’re too obsessed with Sasha to care about anyone other than yourself.”
Rubberman did not say anything when I said that. I noticed that Adams had stopped trying to hack the flash drive and was looking over his shoulder at us in surprise, although, like Rubberman, he was silent as well. Perhaps he was waiting for Rubberman’s response. Not that I cared, because I was talking to Rubberman, not Adams.
I breathed in and out hard. I didn’t realize just how tense I was. I merely stared at Rubberman, daring him to say something, but for what felt like an eternity, Rubberman said nothing. He stood as still as a statue, his arms crossed over his chest.
Finally, Rubberman said, “I don’t know what Barriers told you, but it’s wrong.”
“And you have no proof to show me that he was wrong,” I said.
Rubberman held up a hand, like he wasn’t done talking yet. “But it is pretty obvious to me that you are honest about not wanting anything to do with this. On the other hand, I can’t force you to continue to help me, especially if you have doubts about the legality or morality of what we’re doing. Nor should I. It’s never wise to force someone to support you if they are not one hundred percent behind you.”
“Yeah,” I said. “That’s right.”
“But I believe we’re onto something here,” said Rubberman. He gestured at Mission Control. “We’re on the brink of finding enough evidence to put Sasha behind bars for good. But if you can’t get behind me on this—if you’re worried about whether this is right or not—then you can quit and find a job elsewhere.”
I blinked. “Wait, you’re offering me a chance to quit?”
Rubberman nodded. “Yes. I know you still haven’t saved up enough yet for that car you want, but maybe this sidekick gig isn’t working out for you. I don’t need a sidekick I can’t count on when the going gets tough anyway. I had high hopes for you, but if you can’t—or don’t want to— meet them, that’s fine.”
I was left momentarily speechless. I didn’t know what to say. My earlier anger had subsided substantially, yet I could tell that Rubberman wasn’t joking. He was being one hundred percent serious.
“So?” said Rubberman. “What’s your response?”
My hands tightened more than ever. I felt conflicted for only a moment, but then I knew what my decision was going to be. “I quit.”
Rubberman nodded again, not looking even remotely surprised by my response. “Very well. You can leave the Elastic Cave, then. You don’t have to give back your suit or anything. I’ll have Adams remove you from the payroll.”
But I didn’t stay to hear Rubberman say all of that, because as soon as I said I quit, I turned around, walked back into the elevator, and soon was ascending back up to the surface.
I was glad that my visor hid my face, because I didn’t want Rubberman to see the tears streaming down my face.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The ride back home was quiet and awkward. I told James about my decision to quit working for Rubberman. I expected him to be happy about that, but to my surprise, he actually looked almost as disappointed as I felt. Maybe he realized how unhappy I was about this and so knew better than to gloat about it to me. Even though my visor still hid my face, James knew me well enough to know when I was happy and when I was sad.
When we got back home, I told Mom and Dad about it at the dinner table. Mom, as expected, was horrified and kept demanding to know why I quit, while Dad just shrugged and told me that I did my best and to start looking for another part-time job. He even mentioned a couple of friends of his who were looking for some part-time help, but I was in no mood to talk about jobs or business or anything. I just ate my dinner quietly and then left the table and went to my room. My body still ached terribly from my fight with Takeshi earlier, so I didn’t
take off my suit. I had just enough strength to remove my helmet and throw it off to the side before I collapsed onto my bed, although I didn’t fall asleep right away. Instead, I stared at the ceiling, at the slow-moving ceiling fan which seemed almost mocking in the way it moved.
I had a hard time believing I’d just quit like that. I told myself that it was for the best, that if Rubberman’s scheme ended up backfiring, that I wouldn’t be caught up in it, but I just couldn’t get over Rubberman’s attitude. He didn’t act like some weird paranoid conspiracy theorist guy. He seemed as normal, confident, and reasonable as he always was. Maybe he went too far this time, but I felt that Barriers’ description of him as ‘paranoid’ was off the mark.
I rolled over onto my side and sighed. Maybe I’d made a mistake in quitting, but there was no going back now. I couldn’t. I would look weak and indecisive. Besides, I didn’t want to get caught up in the legal quagmire that Rubberman had stepped into. And I didn’t do anything wrong. I had every right to quit my job whenever I wanted. I’d done nothing morally or legally wrong. It was Rubberman who was hip-deep in moral and legal quandaries, not me.
So why didn’t I feel satisfied with my decision?
Perhaps it was the fact that I still hadn’t saved up enough money for my car yet. I was about a third of the way there, according to my savings account, but now that I wasn’t working for Rubberman anymore, I would need to find another job fast. Not that that would be very hard to do, because there were lots of part-time jobs available at fast food restaurants and the like around here. I would just slap together my resume and fill out job applications tomorrow.
Besides, hadn’t I been getting kind of tired with the whole superhero business anyway? All of this fighting was starting to wear me out. I didn’t have super strength or endurance or anything like that. Now that I was out of the business, I could potentially go on to live a normal life. I didn’t have to worry about being killed or maimed by some random criminal on the streets, nor did I have to worry about the ethics of being a superhero anymore. I might actually be able to relax for a while. That would be nice, wouldn’t it?
I turned over again. Would it really be that nice? What if Golden City needed me? That was a silly thought. Golden City had Rubberman and the police. It even had Barriers now. Maybe Barriers wasn’t the greatest superhero in the world, but as long as Golden City had two superheroes, it would be safe from virtually anything except an invasion from a foreign army. Even then, a couple of superheroes could hold off an army if they were particularly powerful or skilled. It wasn’t like crime rates would shoot up once it became public knowledge that I was no longer working for Rubberman. Rubberman was handling crime in Golden City pretty well before he hired me anyway. He’d do just fine without me. That, I knew for sure.
So why did I still feel so guilty about it? How come every rationale I came up with felt so empty and fake? Was I just lying to myself? Or was I just so upset that nothing I thought of made me feel good?
I closed my eyes in an attempt to go to sleep, but they snapped right open not even one second later. Despite my exhaustion from the events of the day, I couldn’t go to sleep. My mind just wanted to go over the events of the day again and to keep dwelling on the fact that I quit my job. I didn’t want to, because every time I did, I felt like a failure. Maybe that was what was bothering me so much: The thought that I’d failed to be a good sidekick and that all of this time working for Rubberman had been for nothing.
Well, I can’t say it was for ‘nothing,’ exactly, given how I’d earned some money working for him. I’d even learned how to control my powers and become a better, stronger fighter, which would probably help me no matter what I chose to do next. But my chances of becoming a superhero myself were nonexistent now. It was possible to get into the superhero business without first being a sidekick, but it’s supposed to be easier to transition from sidekick to full-time superhero than it is to just jump into the business right away.
But why was I thinking about this? I didn’t want to be a superhero, did I? I wanted to go to college. Maybe I didn’t know what I was going to study, but the plan had always been that I would go to college and live a normal life like anyone else.
What happened, I think, is that I got a glimpse of the superhero life while working for Rubberman. Before I worked for Rubberman, superheroes had always seemed distant figures. People who did good things, but whose inner workings were always a mystery to me. Now that I got a glimpse of how much work—and how much reward—awaited anyone willing to become a superhero, I couldn’t forget about it. It was sure a lot more reward than what Dad got as a high school coach. Not that there was anything wrong with being a coach, but I didn’t see myself following in Dad’s footsteps.
A knock at my door snapped me out of my thoughts. I raised my head and said, “Come on,” albeit somewhat lifelessly, because I didn’t know who it was, nor did I care.
But I was still surprised when the door opened and James entered. He was not wearing his Lightning Fist costume anymore. Instead, he wore a black t-shirt and jeans.
“Hey, bro,” said James, giving me a small smile. “What’s up? You okay?”
I frowned. “I guess. What are you doing here?”
“Can’t an older brother show some concern for his younger brother?” asked James. “I came up here because I noticed how mopey you were during dinner and I wanted to make sure you were okay. You’ve never quit from a job before, right?”
I shrugged and rolled onto my other side, because I didn’t really want to look at anyone right now. “Yeah, that’s right. Working for Rubberman was my first job, so this is also the first time I’ve quit from a job.”
“I understand,” said James. “Quitting your first job is always hard, even when it makes sense or if the job was always meant to be temporary. I felt kind of similar when I quit working for Windchime, although I have to admit I was a lot more relieved than anything. He was kind of a mess.”
“Uh huh,” I said. I wasn’t really in the mood to talk to James, but I also didn’t have the energy to tell him to get lost, either.
“But there’s no need to get down about it,” said James. “Especially for a long time. The longer you moan about it, the harder it will be to find a new job. It’s kind of like breaking up with a girl. The longer you mourn her, the harder it becomes to find a new girlfriend.”
“I know,” I said. I sighed. “I just … I don’t know what I’m going to do next.”
“There’s got to be something you can do,” said James. “I mean, Rubberman taught you a lot of fighting skills and stuff, right?”
“Yeah, he did,” I said. “But I don’t think the local burger joint is going to ask me if I know kung fu when I fill out an application.”
“Good point,” said James. “But man, you were lucky. Windchime didn’t teach me how to fight at all when I worked for him.”
I looked over my shoulder at James. “He didn’t?”
“Yeah,” said James, nodding. “Well, he taught me a few simple techniques, but he didn’t even do those well. I had to learn through trial and error. Also, I found a self-defense instructor who taught me how to defend myself.”
“But you handled those goons back there so easily.”
“Just because I’m not a sidekick anymore doesn’t mean I can’t defend myself,” said James with a shrug. He flexed his muscles. “Besides, girls love the muscles. There are a lot of benefits to working out and learning self-defense techniques besides the obvious.”
I hadn’t realized that Windchime hadn’t trained James. That made me wonder how common it was for superheroes to train their sidekicks. I vaguely remembered Rubberman telling me that most superheroes did offer their sidekicks combat and self-defense training, but maybe it wasn’t as common as I’d thought. That made me feel even worse for quitting, if only because I didn’t know how I was going to continue my training without him or whether I even should.
James looked over at my desk next to the do
or and snatched something from it. “Hey, why don’t you call Barriers? He’s still looking for a sidekick, isn’t he?”
James showed me Barriers’ business card. It was slightly crumpled from having been in my pocket for so long, but the contact information was still readable, at least.
I frowned. “I don’t know. I don’t really like Barriers all that much.”
“But he promised to pay you double what Rubberman did, right?” said James. “And three times the royalty rate for licensing deals. If I were you, I’d call him right away and ask him if the deal is still available. Think about how quickly you’ll fill your savings account. Maybe you’ll have enough to buy your first car by March. You don’t even have to work for him forever, just long enough until you have enough money to buy your car.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “That sounds good, but I don’t know if I want to jump back into work so quickly. I don’t know if I’m ready for it yet or not.”
James shrugged. “Your decision, but personally, I think you should go for it. You don’t know if you’ll ever get a chance like this again. Just saying.”
With that, James tossed the card over to me and left the room, closing the door behind him on his way out. I didn’t move, although I did look at Barriers’ business card lying near my head.
I meant what I said to James, about not feeling ready to get a new job, especially a job in the same industry I just quit. Besides, Barriers wasn’t exactly a saint. He was a little too obsessed with money, if you ask me. He didn’t seem much like a hero, but maybe he would surprise me. I mean, didn’t I only think this because Rubberman told me so? And how could I trust Rubberman’s opinion after I quit working for him? And I did need the money, money I couldn’t get by moping around in my room like this.
With a sigh, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and dialed Barriers’ number. Putting my phone to my ear, I hoped I was making the right choice, because I didn’t know what else to do if this didn’t work out.