And the body…it should be a crime to even conceive of doing something like this to another person. The culprit was deranged, had to be. And it was clear that no ordinary human had done this.
I felt an immense amount of sorrow for this person, whoever they were. I didn’t know how they came to be in my apartment, but they didn’t deserve to die like this. That’s when I realized that the person’s face had barely been touched. Even more, I recognized the victim. It was Pinchface. I sighed sadly and teleported to my house.
*****
I popped into my bedroom at home. Just a few hours earlier, I had left practically on cloud nine about my date. I returned having been nearly electrocuted, “outed” as Kid Sensation, and probably wanted for murder. I couldn’t imagine being more depressed.
I felt a questing probe from my grandfather. As I had suspected earlier, he and my mother had stayed up and were down in the kitchen, awaiting a full debriefing on my date. I clumped down the stairs heavily, my footsteps announcing my presence in a way that was atypical for me.
When I saw them sitting at the counter in the kitchen, I didn’t have the heart to tell them the truth. So I made up a story about having a great date with Electra, but jointly deciding that we were better off as friends. They both offered me their sympathy and encouragement for whomever my next date might be with. Then, my mother went off to bed, leaving “her boys” to have a little man-talk. No sooner had her foot hit the stairs than my grandfather sent a stinging probe that jabbed me like a mental stick-pin.
Rather than talk about it, I simply opened my mind and laid out the whole sordid mess. It took about fifteen seconds, after which he sat still, regarding me silently.
I suddenly got a feeling of warmth from him, an enveloping emotion of joy and smiling pride. It was the answer he’d wanted from me. He nodded and headed out the back door. I sighed, locked the door behind him, then headed up to bed.
INTERLUDE
Omen stood in front of an odd machine. That it was a complex and complicated device was evident, not so much because of its appearance - which was a curious mosaic of integrated circuitry, intricate components, and fused microelectronics - but because of its current state of being. It was semi-solid. Some parts could be touched and interacted with, while others were more ethereal.
Standing around Omen were the rest of his cohorts, all in person. Even Slate had dispensed with his golems and was here in the sickly yellow flesh.
“We stand on the precipice,” Slate uttered with glee. “In very short order we shall be indomitable.”
“Victory is not yet assured,” Omen announced. “The Transdimensional Nanite Induction Platform is still fickle in some respects. We must still proceed with care.”
“And let us not forget Kid Sensation,” muttered Summit, who dwarfed his companions. “We have not yet closed the loop on him.”
Omen smiled as he touched a dial on the device and colorful sparks began to fill the air and dance back and forth.
“Do not concern yourself with Kid Sensation,” he stated with disinterest. “Our plans for dealing with him proceed unhindered.”
Chapter 11
I awoke to the sound of someone trying to beat our front door down. Or at least that’s what it sounded like. There was an incessant pounding on the door and ringing of the doorbell. I barely glanced at the clock - 5:13 a.m. - before anxiously teleporting downstairs. I reached out empathically for the person on the other side of the door, then yanked it open when I felt the cool familiarity of the visitor’s emotions.
I opened the door expecting to see Braintrust. On the other side of the door was a tall, blonde woman in a red jogging suit. She had exquisite features and her hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She was accompanied by two men - practically twins - in dark t-shirts and sweatpants. I had never seen any of them before.
“Sorry to barge in unannounced like this, Jim,” the woman said, “but we’ve got problems.”
The voice was unfamiliar, but there was no mistaking the tone. It was BT. In fact, all three of these people were Braintrust clones.
<???> I felt a questing probe from my grandfather as the woman and her companions came in. I was about to open my mind and let him observe what was happening, when he relayed that BT clones were also at the door of his apartment. No need for a link now; the clones at his door would explain things to him, as these were hopefully about to explain to me.
“Jim?” I looked up and saw my mother on the stairs in her robe. “Is everything alright? Who are these people?”
Before I could respond, the female clone smiled at my mother and spoke. “Geneva, you’re looking lovely, as always.”
My mother frowned in thought for a moment, and then something like understanding dawned on her face.
“Braintrust,” my mother said in a declaratory tone.
“In the flesh,” said the blonde. “As usual, it’s a pleasure to see you.”
“Your compliments and flattery seem less sincere coming from a female clone,” my mother stated with a grin. “What are you doing here?”
“You’re in danger,” the blonde said, all traces of humor vanishing. “I’ll explain everything, but we have to leave now.”
My mother looked at me. BT wasn’t prone to exaggeration. If he said we were in danger then there was a real threat involved.
“Let’s go,” I said.
We marched outside to where BT had four cars waiting. As we were getting into the back seat of one of them - a spacious Towncar - two more male clones came around the corner of the house escorting my grandfather. Gramps got into the back seat with me and Mom. One of the male clones got in behind the wheel, while the blonde got into the front passenger seat. Each of the other three clones got into one of the other vehicles. We drove off with the other three cars following us.
It was still dark, at least another hour until dawn. There were cars parked on both sides of the street, forcing us to drive somewhat in the middle of the road. We’d gone about fifty yards when our driver pulled over and parked without warning before shutting the engine off. The other three cars kept going for about another ten yards, where they came to an intersection. The lead car went straight, while the other two went left and right, respectively.
I was about to ask what was going on when the blonde turned around and, looking out the back window, stated, “It’s too late.”
Following her lead, the three of us in the back seat turned and looked out of the back window as well. We were still close enough for our house to be visible, and that seemed to be the area where BT’s gaze was focused.
At first, I didn’t see anything. Except for what was chased away by streetlights, the darkness was all-encompassing. I cycled my vision through the light spectrum until I was able to see almost as well as in daylight. Mom, I knew, wouldn’t have any issues with darkness. One of the things she had inherited from her mother was incredible night vision.
I was on the verge of telescoping my vision when I saw it. It came on like a shooting star initially, blazing a fiery path through the night. It arced through the sky and proceeded on a direct path towards our house, weaving a bright trail of flame behind it.
As it got closer, I could make out more minute details: a head…arms…legs. It was a super!
It was immediately obvious that the person was a female, but she was completely enveloped in flames. She stopped directly above our house, and - after waiting there for a few seconds - extended her hand out towards my grandfather’s apartment. The garage was immediately ablaze.
Infuriated, I became insubstantial and began floating up through the roof of the car.
>
“No!” the blonde hissed. “Too dangerous!”
Too dangerous for me? BT must be referring to the fact that drawing attention might put Mom and Gramps in danger, since I had a number of powers I could use to avoid any injury. Regardless, I dropped back down into the car and became solid again.
At this point, the fire-woman was circling around the house, flames shooting from her outstretched hand and setting the entire structure ablaze. Then she zipped back and forth around the house in seemingly haphazard fashion.
“Any idea who that is?” I asked Braintrust.
“I believe she’s called Incendia,” came the response.
“What’s she doing?” my mother asked as Incendia continued flying around the house erratically.
“Probably wondering why nobody’s running out of the house screaming right about now,” Braintrust replied.
Incendia circled around the house again, then zipped down the street in our direction. Everyone in the car ducked down as she flew past. I watched in silent fury, wishing our nullifier were reset and operational so I could pop her into it. Incendia stopped at the intersection, looked around desperately, then swished off to the left.
“Let’s hope she’s going after one of the bait cars,” the blonde said as the driver started the engine and we drove off.
“Aren’t you worried about your clones? That she’ll kill them?” Mom asked.
Even Gramps chuckled at that one. “You must have forgotten: clones aren’t essential elements of BT’s makeup. They can look and act like the rest of us, but for him they’re no more important than something like fingernails. For him, losing them is like getting a haircut.”
“That’s an oversimplification,” the blonde said, “but true. Now, as to what this is all about: my mansion was attacked about an hour ago. All the clones there are a loss.”
“I’m sorry–” I began.
“Don’t be,” the clone cut me off. “Your grandfather gave a good analogy. I’m basically unhurt.”
“Did you recognize any of them?” I asked. Although the clones at the mansion were lost, anything they saw was preserved as part of BT’s hive mind.
“A few, like Incendia,” she responded. “But most were masked and wore body armor.”
“How did they find you?” my grandfather chimed in.
“I’m not sure, but I have a theory.” BT explained about Reilly Kubosh - Pinchface - and his power. “I believe he tracked down Kid Sensation, and through him, me. Or vice versa. But the most important thing isn’t so much what they did but what they took.”
The clone looked at me before going on. “The inhibitor.”
I shrugged. “So what? We all know that the darn thing doesn’t work half the time - only a quarter of the time, if you want the truth. And it has to be customized for a specific person. Unless they have someone specific in mind and a lot of info on the person’s powers, it probably won’t do them much good.”
For one of the few times that I can remember, a Braintrust clone suddenly looked embarrassed. “You know,” she said, “I don’t care much for money, wealth, or power. It’s all about information with me. Knowledge.
“I have designated clones whose only purpose, whose only job - only function - is to read newspapers. Others do nothing but read books. Some simply watch television, surf the internet, etc. I just want to know - have to know - everything.”
This was stuff that I was already aware of, so I just nodded.
“That said, I’m afraid I haven’t been entirely honest with you, Jim,” the blonde continued. “In trying to perfect the inhibitor collar, I used data from the tests you let me conduct on you over the years to calibrate it. I used information concerning your biometrics and power set to fine-tune the device.”
I really didn’t like where this conversation was going, but if I didn’t like it, my grandfather hated it.
“Are you crazy???!!!” my grandfather shouted at the clone. “You’ve been building an inhibitor to block my grandson’s powers???!!!”
“No! Absolutely not!” she retorted. “It was never customized for him in any way. But Jim’s probably the most versatile super on the planet. I had his data, so it was easy to use that information to help adjust the inhibitor for certain supervillains with powers similar to his.”
If those words were meant to be soothing, they failed miserably. I could feel my grandfather’s rage thundering across my brain. It was like a palpable force, a wind quickly and ferociously building up speed and pressure, ready to turn into a cyclone at any moment. And it wasn’t even directed at me; it was pointedly focused on the blonde clone, who closed her eyes and began massaging her temples.
I’ve heard about how powerful my grandfather was in his heyday, how he could bring the strongest of villains to their knees with the power of his mind. I’d been told of how revered he was - even at his current age - among even the most dominant of psychics and telepaths. But I’d never felt his power brought to bear like this. The driver of the car started weaving, and I noticed blood coming out of his ears. I had to stop my grandfather before he accidentally flashburned someone’s brain.
I slapped him, telepathically. Not hard enough to hurt him, but with enough force to get his attention, which was suddenly turned on me. Almost immediately, it felt like my head was going to explode. I winced, closing my eyes and groaning as, mentally, he came for me.
“Dad!” my mother screamed. And just like that, the pressure was gone. My mother’s voice had cut through the red haze of his anger and brought my grandfather back to himself. It appeared that we were out of danger.
Even so, I had a stinging headache now. I cracked open my eyelids and saw my grandfather with a painful look on his face. His eyes were watery, as if he were about to cry, and I felt this terrible sadness coming from him as he realized what he had almost done.
“Now,” I said, turning back to the clone, “back to the subject at hand. I can’t say that I’m happy about what you did, but we don’t have time to worry about that now. Plus, it doesn’t sound like a big deal. They have an inhibitor, but it’s customized for someone else. Big whoop.”
“Normally, I’d agree with you,” Braintrust countered, “but there’s more. They didn’t just take the collar. They also took your data from my PC. Separately, they don’t add up to a lot, but in the hands of the right person - someone who knows what they’re doing - they may be able to calibrate the inhibitor collar for you.”
“Lovely,” I said, leaning back. “So, now not only am I wanted for murder, but I’ve got to keep an eye out for persons unknown who may want to take away my super powers.”
“What?!” Mom forcefully and incredulously interjected. “What murder?!”
It had slipped my mind that she didn’t actually know what happened the night before, so I told the whole sordid story to her and BT. She frowned in severe disapproval when she learned about my apartment, but my grandfather assured her we could address that later.
“Interesting,” said BT, staring off to the side in deep thought. “I think I have a theory about what’s happening here. First, Jim, you find yourself being followed, so someone is definitely after you - especially when you consider the type of person they put on your tail. Then they take a device and information that can only be used specifically against you.”
“I follow you,” I said, “but I don’t see your theory.”
“Have you ever seen one of those documentaries, with predators like cheetahs hunting herds of antelopes and such in the wild?”
“Yeah,” my grandfather commented. “The predator tries to get the herd moving, then isolate the weak - the old or the young - and bring them down. Are you saying that Jim is weak, and that’s why they’re after him?”
“No, quite the opposite,” the blonde intoned. “I think they’re after Jim because he’s strong, and he’s a threat to them somehow. But back to the
predator theme, you’ll notice that sometimes on those shows, if a weak member of the herd can’t keep up, then the other members of the herd will sometimes form a circle around them, and just go around and around in large numbers so that the predator can’t get to them without getting trampled.
“In this case, I think what they’ve tried to do is isolate Jim. He’s only got a handful of people actively involved in his life: his mother, grandfather, and me. They take me out - or believe that they do - when they come for the inhibitor and Jim’s data. Then they try to kill his mother and grandfather by burning down their house. Finally, by framing him for murder, they take away his ability to go to the authorities. In short, if they had succeeded at every step, Jim would have no one left to turn to and nowhere left to run. No family, no friends, no allies.”
“Well, they may not be batting a thousand,” Gramps said, “but they’ve been running up the score on us.”
“Yeah,” Mom said. “But there’s got to be something we can do.”
I’d been quietly thinking, and then something occurred to me.
“I think there’s only one thing we can do,” I said.
“What’s that?” asked BT.
I grinned. “The unexpected.”
Chapter 12
Two hours later, I walked into the Alpha League Headquarters and turned myself in. Of course, they were expecting me, seeing as how I had tipped them off regarding what I was planning to do.
Since there seemed to be a plan in motion to isolate me, the best recourse had seemed to be doing the opposite. That meant turning to the League for help rather than running away from them. Thus, after making sure that my mother and grandfather were safely stashed at another of Braintrust’s hideouts (and after borrowing some clothes from BT), I had made the call to turn myself in.
I had initially wondered if they would assume it was a joke. After all, they probably got crank calls about Kid Sensation all the time. Yet, when I showed up, they were indeed expecting me. Or rather, Mouse was.
The Kid Sensation Series Box Set Page 10