by Tom Andry
"Go away."
"But, Bob..."
"GO AWAY!" my voice cracked. I was losing it. A shower. I'd feel better. Get my body temperature down.
I slid aside the Plexiglas door to see a small room about the size of my guest bathroom. It was covered with tiny, inch square tiles from floor to ceiling. There were no controls, no nozzle, and definitely nothing that made it look like a shower. If anything, it resembled the walkway into a public bathroom.
"Gale? What's the deal with the shower?"
"That's what I was trying to tell you. It's not a water shower."
I took a step away from the opening, "So, what is it?"
"Lasers."
I paused, turning slowly to face the door to my bedroom, "Lasers?"
"It's perfectly safe, Bob..."
I ran my hand through my hair again. Goddamn these supers. I'd never felt so vulnerable and alone. Nothing was right. Everywhere I went, everything I saw, everything I expected was different. Alien. I was at the point where I wouldn't have been surprised if a leprechaun jumped out of the sink, planted a big kiss on my ear, and started cutting my hair.
I slapped a hand on the counter, looking at myself in the mirror. I was pale, drawn. I looked like I'd just been woken up after a hard night of getting pummeled by a super with pompoms for hands - both disheveled and sort of confused. I followed the line of the mirror with my eyes. An outlet. Just above the backsplash and before the mirror frame. I shook my head. I didn't have a choice. I had to do it.
I reached down and pressed the button that would release the hatch for the compartment in my ankle. I pulled out the Multikey and took a hard look at it. When it arrived, I thought it was a roll of film. Now that I'd spent some time with it, I noticed that it was a bit longer and thinner, but it still reminded me of a film canister. But when I pressed the end, the other side peeled back like the end of a piece of corn. But, instead of corn on the inside, metallic tentacles would worm their way out. They'd latch on to whatever port I shoved them into and mold themselves correctly. It was a little weird the first few times. Now I looked at the writhing tentacles like a lifeline. The sense of relief I felt when I pushed them into the outlet was the same as when I'd been driving on an extremely foggy day where I could barely see past the hood and then popped out of the bank and into the morning light. I didn't realize I was gripping the counter so hard. I didn't realize I was holding my breath. I didn't realize my shoulders were so tense. A slow smile spread across my face as my tension started to fade.
Sighing, I dropped my head and found myself staring into the sink. Soap. Water. I looked around and found four, small hand towels in a cabinet. Ten minutes later, I opened the door, the carpet within three feet of the door completely saturated with water. Peeking around the corner, I kicked my soaked clothes into the bedroom.
Gale was sitting on my bed, something in her hands, her expression amused, "Feel better?"
I smiled, "Much. Do you mind? I'm not wearing anything here."
She shrugged, "It isn't anything I haven't seen before."
My smile turned mischievous, "Well, if that's the way you want to play it..."
"Fine!" Her costume cloth wrapped around her eyes, "I give!"
I picked up my jacket and slacks, looking for a place to hang them up. I finally asked the room and a few metal rods extended from the walls. Ted had built the resistant clothing so that they would dry quickly and were, to some extent, self-cleaning. They just needed a few minutes of hang-time. I opened a suitcase, fished out a new set of underwear and a shirt plus a pair of socks.
"What are you doing, your taxes?"
"Hold your horses."
I put on the shirt, underwear and socks. The slacks and jacket were not dry yet. I pulled the shirt as low as I could, "Well, now's as good a time as any."
The cloth slid off Gale's eyes, "Ah...your 'come hither' outfit."
"Ha ha."
"Nothing turns a woman on like a white shirt, dark socks and little else."
I turned back to the slacks and whipped them off the rod, which immediately started retracting into the wall, "Can I help you with something? I..." I stumbled over the words as I realized the thing in her hands was the device I used to insert my earpiece, "I don't remember inviting you back here."
She nodded at my leg, "Can I see it?" she asked softly.
I'd forgotten. She hadn't seen my leg since the day Ted had attached it. I hadn't reacted well and had told her to stay away. Officially, I hadn't rescinded that order.
"Sure." I stepped over, trying not to watch as she continued to play with the device. I threw my slacks on the bed beside her, and turned my right hip toward her.
She set the device down and reached out a hand and gingerly touched it. "Can you feel that? I mean, can you feel anything?"
I shrugged, "Sort of. Ted says the nerves will still heal and I'll get more sensation back. But you know Ted."
"He doesn't do humans."
"Yeah."
"Bob, I know I said it before, but I'm so sorry. I know you blamed Ted for...these. But it was my call. Ultimately."
I nodded, "I know. I mean, I didn't know, but I suspected. I can't blame you. If it were you on that table, I would have agreed to anything to keep you alive."
She blinked and I realized what I'd just said. Revealed.
I coughed, "Anyway. It's in the past."
"But you're still mad at him."
I sighed, "I don't know. I guess I am. He put in tracking devices, you know. Made my right leg stronger. All the sort of stuff he would want. I had to," I paused, remembering all the work it took to take it all out myself with the help of the supercomputer fugitive I had in my apartment, "hit up every super scientist I could find to make sure all that stuff was removed. Put back right. Still isn't exact though."
"Hence all the falling down earlier."
I thought back. Did my leg trip me up? At the time, I was pretty sure it was unmitigated terror, but the leg sounded less...wussy, "Yeah."
She nodded, "I can't stay."
"Huh?" I shook my head at the abrupt change of subject.
"When you called my name, it activated your USB. When I heard what was going on, I activated your emergency beacon. You broadcast much of your meltdown over the entire emergency frequency before I realized what was going on and could mute you."
What had I said? Had I mentioned Mind? Oh, God! If I revealed her presence, it could be bad. Bad for her, but really bad for me. She knew all about Nineteen. All my secrets. She'd agreed to keep my secrets as long as I kept hers. I felt the sweat starting to come on again.
Gale stood, mere inches from my pant-less body. I was glad I wasn't wearing boxers. I tried to think about something else.
"But it is only a matter of time before someone hears there was an accident in the League complex. And that's sure to have repercussions."
"Fine. I understand."
She took a step forward and wrapped her arms around my shoulders. I tried to ignore the proximity of her body, "I just couldn't rush off without making sure you were okay." She pulled her head back from me and dropped her hands to my lower back, "You are okay, right?"
I nodded, "Never better. You know me, I bounce back." I managed a smile.
She poked my belly with her finger, "More now than ever."
I scowled, "I'm not fat."
She shrugged, laughing lightly, "Whatever you say, Bob." The door hissed closed behind her.
I turned to the wall in front of me, "I'm not fat, am I?"
Suddenly, every surface of the room was reflective. The walls, the ceiling, the floor...even some of the furniture. I scanned each of the surfaces. Even with my involuntary (and sometimes very voluntary) sucking in, there was no denying it: I was fat.
"Damn."
I grabbed my slacks off the bed and my keychain slid out of the pocket. The chrome number 19 tinkled on the carpet. I stared at the keychain. There was so much to do. So much to worry about. What was I doing here? Lookin
g for Nineteen? Twenty? Trying to rekindle my relationship with Gale? Earning a favor from a very powerful man? Looking for ambassadors? I was lost. I just wanted to go home. I hadn't been on the Super City a full day and I was ready to throw in the towel.
I looked back down at the keychain, my jaw tight. Quitting wasn't an option. I had to find her. I gave my slacks one last, determined, shake and pulled them on. I glanced back at the bathroom, allowing myself to hope I hadn't made a wrong decision. I pushed the fear aside. The choice was made. The Multikey was plugged in. Mind would have to do the rest. Whatever was stopping our communication...she'd have to find a way around it. If anyone could do it, it would be her. I hoped. And she'd find all the information I'd need to uncover the cloners. If we solved the mystery of the ambassadors? All the better.
The door to my bedroom hissed closed behind me. I scanned the room. Chris leaned against the wall near the bar. He stared out the window, swirling the brandy in his snifter. While I was gone, Leon had returned, most of his fur gone, but again, the ears hadn't changed. Nor had his canines, which were still elongated and sharp. Next to him was the slight frame of Doe, looking concerned.
"Bob, I'm sorry I doubted you." Doe looked downcast. "I just don't know how this could have happened."
I smiled, my make-shift shower and talk with my wife had reinvigorated me, "I do." Chris came to attention and turned to me. I met his gaze, "But I just can't believe it." I paced over to the bar and made another drink, glancing sideways at the wall, looking for the seams of the robot cleaner than had walked off it earlier. I couldn't see any.
Chris was watching me intently. As I took my third sip, my back to the group, he couldn't take it anymore, "What? What's your theory?"
I turned and laughed, "My theory is that I'm done. This all feels like a rehashed plot. The microbots? People missing? It reeks of a super messing with my head, and I'm done with it. I'm done getting pushed around. I feel like I've been railroaded this entire time. I can't remember a single decision in the last few weeks that was mine. So...here's what I'm going to do: I'm going find out where the tech came from. The microbots. Or at least how it got here. It must have come from the surface. And I'm going to follow it back to the source."
Chris shook his head, "And how, exactly, are you going to do that?"
"Umm..." Leon raised his hand, the fingernails long and sharp, "I might be able to help."
"Seriously?" I grumbled, "What's the deal with the raising of hands around here?"
"I overheard some people talking about this place. It's called Snow. Apparently, if you want anything, it's the place to go."
Doe gasped, "Bob, you can't."
I ignored him, "And where is it? Did you overhear that as well?"
Leon's ears twitched nervously, "Proving Ground."
Doe, his eyes more inquisitive than concerned, put a hand on my shoulder, "Bob, I've heard about that place. You can't just go in there."
"You want to bet?" I smiled, my blood starting to race. Perfect. Exactly what I had expected, "I'm the man who faced The Raven twice and lived. I deal with supers on a daily basis and walk away unscathed. I've got the weight of the US government behind me and a sentry that is the bane of mosquitoes the world over. I just need one more thing."
"A way in? Your USBs won't allow you through the gates." Doe offered.
"No, I've got that covered."
Doe squinted, "Really? How?"
Chris smiled, "Winning smiles and positive attitudes. They've been known to open all sorts of doors."
"Not you," I looked at Chris, and then at Leon, "or you. I need you both here."
Chris frowned, "No way I'm letting you go in there by yourself."
I laughed, "No offense, Chris, you're good at what you do, but you're not me. All you'd do is slow me down."
"That's bullshit, Bob, and you know it! Let's at least talk about this...come up with some options..."
I cut Chris off, "Screw options. I'm doing this. And you are staying here. And I think you know why..." I rubbed my belly.
Chris frowned, but nodded once. He knew I'd often promised Suzi to keep him out of trouble. This time I'd actually keep that promise.
"Fine, I'll stay. But you need to stop and think about this, Bob. This is a bad plan. I’m sure you can..."
"You can say that again when I come back without a scratch," I barked.
"What do you need us to do?" Leon purred.
"You? I need you to stay here. Hold down the fort. Be available. I may need you at a moment's notice. And if I call and you're not here..." I shook my head, "I swear I'll neuter you myself."
"And me?" Chris looked concerned.
I smiled, "If I'm right, the shit is going to hit the fan in a few hours." I glanced out the window at the setting sun, "By tomorrow morning, this place is going to be a madhouse. And you've got some work you wanted to get done..."
Chris leaned back against the wall, nodding, "Yeah, you're right. I do. Thanks."
"It's easy to get caught up in this stuff. Forget why you're really here."
"But you said you needed one more thing."
I turned to Doe, watching our exchange intently, "Dinner. I haven't eaten all day."
Doe laughed, "I bet. But that's not all you need."
"Really?"
He shook his head, "No. You need a ride. And I know just the guy."
* * *
Chapter 12
"There is no way I'm getting on that thing."
Doe threw his hands out to his sides, "Golly, Bob. I mean, I don't know what to say. This is the best way."
The man...I thought it was a man...sat impassively on the bike. Motorcycle. Tank. Whatever it was. Doe had brought me down through the building and out to the street. Above me, enclosed walkways led pedestrians from one building to the other. The street, if you could call it that, buzzed with motion. Planetside, you'd expect traffic to go at a reasonable pace, slow enough to navigate buildings and people on the street. Where there were few buildings or people, the speeds could be greater. Like on highways. But here? This was insane.
Supers buzzed by in colorful streaks that must have been traveling just under the sound barrier. My hair and jacket flapped violently in their wake but there was no "boom" as I'd heard from Gale in the past. It was like standing just outside a tornado and thinking, "You know what, I think I will jump on the back of a motorcycle and give it a try. What's the worst that could happen?"
The biker sat on what looked to be a yellow and black, armored, motorcycle-shaped rocket. The front "wheel" extended forward on a short rod. Instead of a wheel, though, there was simply a metal disc with an edge of blinding light about the diameter of a basketball. It floated just above the street and occasionally crackled when dust or a bug made contact. The rest of the bike rested on the road on long, thin, metal runners that stabbed into the ground. The runners looked like segmented rectangular plates that were held on by articulated struts. Under the bike, around the runners, was more blinding light. The runners were very tall and extended about two feet off the ground, ran the length of the machine, and looked to be only millimeters thick. I'd have to step over them to mount.
Which I wasn't going to do.
The man, he sounded like a man at least, was wearing a suit of powered armor. None of his skin was visible and the armor was a mix of black and yellow plates making it hard to discern where the bike started and he ended. Out of his back, running along the ridges of his shoulder blades, were three tubes on each side. The topmost two, one on each side nearest to his head, occasionally let go a burst of steam. His mask was a rounded piece of yellow-mirrored glass that covered from his eyebrows to his chin.
"Is he coming or not? I've got a schedule to keep."
"I'm not."
"He is." Doe looked at me, exasperated, "Bob, don't be silly. This is Walker. He's never failed to deliver a package."
"One hundred percent success rate," the amplified voice confirmed.
"Walker? Just Walker?"
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He shrugged, his armor whirring and steam exploding out of his back with his movement, plates adjusting to make room for the subtle changes, "First name is John. But they just call me Walker."
"Let me get this straight. Your name is J. Walker?"
He didn't respond. I stopped, thinking, "I've never heard of you before."
"And that's supposed to hurt my feelings?"
I turned to Doe, "I don't know."
Doe's eyes were imploring, "Please, Bob. Trust me. This guy can get you in and out in one piece."
"In."
"Huh?" Doe and I responded in unison.
"In. I don't do out. At least, it isn't part of the guarantee."
"Well, what good does that do me?" I demanded of both of them.
"Hold on, Bob. Why not out?" Doe asked.
"He gets off the bike, he's on his own. That's the deal. I guarantee transport. If he can get back to the bike in one piece, I'll get him out. But while he's off the bike, I can't be held responsible." The armored figure turned back forward, waiting.
I raised an eyebrow, "Fine. Good enough." I didn't really have a better option. I could have called Ted or maybe one of the other supers that owed me a favor (or didn't want me to reveal their secrets), but I didn't know whom to trust. And Ted...well, he was a bit of a wildcard right now. "So, what is this guarantee?"
Walker turned back to me, "I promise that you'll arrive safely."
"And if I don't."
"You will."
"But if I don't."
"You will." His voice didn't change. I wasn't sure if that was because of the amplification system in his suit or if he was prepared to go back and forth forever.
"But if I don't," I put up a hand to stop his response, "what will I get? What happens if I don't make it safely?"
The armored head tilted to the side, "You will."
I frowned, "And the same thing for the transport back?"
"As long as you make it back to me safely..."
I looked up at the sky, exasperated, "Well, John, you've got confidence, I'll give you that. Okay, I'll go."