“Well, don’t get your hopes up.” Roman looked to Coma. “And before we go, I’ll need to send her back home; showing up with one super at the H-Anon meeting will be strange enough.”
“Awww, she can’t go on the date with us?” Ava teased, her hand still over her face.
“I’d be a great date,” Coma said, “and I know a thing or two about pleasing a woman.”
Roman nearly dropped the kettlebell on his foot.
He had seen Coma go at it with Harper that one time, and he was keenly aware the sex doll had taken on part of his persona—the aggressive part—which meant her reply shouldn’t have been as shocking as it had initially seemed.
Rather than say anything, he set the kettlebell on the ground and stepped back. Fire appeared in a space about three feet away from Ava’s free hand. The flames grew in size, and it spun in the air as it slammed into the grounded kettlebell, the heat from the fire instantly reaching Roman’s face.
“Impressive.”
“Like I said…” Ava uncovered her eyes and turned to the locker room. “I let you win.”
Roman stood outside the back entrance to the lottery commission recalling his meeting with the council that had granted him his extraordinary ability, the power to animate inanimate objects. It was odd that he hadn’t heard or seen anything of the council since; he also found it strange that he’d never seen anyone else training.
Am I the only one? He discarded the thought when a portal opened up, the space around it fizzling as it took shape. The teleporter that stepped out was an older woman with oval glasses and furry red earmuffs on, even though it wasn’t very cold out.
“Tell Celia I’ll be home a little late,” Roman said to Coma. She was back in the gothic Lolita outfit she’d been wearing earlier, a frilly number, black with white stockings and elbow-length white gloves.
The masked doll paused for a moment. “And what if she comes early?”
“Emelia said the new doll wouldn’t be delivered until later,” he assured her. “If she comes early, leave her sitting there. I’ve already signed off on the payment.”
“Will do.” Coma’s red eyes flashed, and she turned to the teleporter, who immediately opened a portal into Roman’s living room.
For a split second, Roman could even see Celia the doll at the other end, slowly lifting a hand in his direction as the portal closed.
“That must be a trip,” Ava said, approaching Roman from behind.
“You clean up nice,” was all he could say when he saw his teacher had gone for a tight pantsuit, her red hair in a bun, dark pink eyeshadow adding an odd sense of depth to her face.
“Thanks. You don’t look too bad yourself.”
Roman wore a dark blue suit with a single line that extended from the top of his shoulder over the right side of his chest and down to the bottom of the jacket. He’d picked it up earlier that day, using more of the money he had minted himself at home.
“You should have told the teleporter to come back,” Ava said. “You’re already late for the H-Anon meeting. No worries, I’ll order one.”
A male teleporter appeared a minute or so later, this one with silver hair and tattooed sideburns. Two flashes of blue energy later and the three of them appeared in front of the H-Anon building, the teleporter gone before Roman could thank him.
“Just sit near the back,” Roman told Ava as they entered a two-story building made of gray stone. The community center had a few other meeting rooms, none of which appeared to be occupied at the moment.
After moving down a poorly lit hall, Roman and Ava found the Heroes Anonymous meeting and claimed a couple of chairs at the back.
Sam, the guy who had sparked Roman’s foray into the red-light district with his weird sex-doll story, stood at the podium with a disgruntled look on his face as he recited the H-Anon mantra.
“I am not a super-powered individual. I am not an exemplar. I have never had a superpower. I am not a hero, nor will I ever be a hero. I am not a superhero. I am half-powered. I will always be half-powered. I am a non-exemplar. There is nothing about me that is extraordinary. I am not a hero. I am not a superhero. I am half-powered. I will always be half-powered. I am a non-exemplar.”
Out of habit, Roman mouthed the last part, his eyes moving from Sam to Bill, the shaved-headed leader of their chapter who was shooting him a look that could knock a strongman through a couple of buildings.
Roman smiled, shrugged, nodded at Ava and gave Bill two thumbs up.
Bill rolled his eyes.
Roman winked at him.
Bill nodded to the door.
Roman placed his hands behind his head and got comfortable.
Ava chuckled for some reason as Sam spoke up. Sam was a thin guy with a five o’clock shadow, black hair, and hazel eyes.
“I think I freaked you all out last time with my story about the sex doll,” the lanky Sam said, “whose name was Dolly. I mentioned that, right? A sex doll named Dolly. Thought you guys would appreciate that. But I’m over it now. Lots has happened since then—and I mean lots.”
“Ahem.” Bill cleared his throat.
“Yep, back to the story. Sorry, Bill. Anyway, it really wasn’t my fault school kids were visiting the vineyard the same day I was there with Dolly. My family should have told me. Maybe they wanted me to get caught. I don’t know.”
“Sam…” Bill started to say.
“Got it, I’ll cut to the chase. So all of us are non-exemplars,” he said, beaming a smile to Roman in the back, “and we all have some sort of slightly heightened power, usually endurance-based. I mean, well, I guess we have no one to compare it to, so how do we know if it is actually heightened? Stupid question, but have you ever thought about that? Is it just something they tell us to make us feel special? Beats the fuck out of me.”
“Sam.”
“Sorry, Bill. Yeah, so I don’t have much endurance,” said Sam, flexing his muscles and revealing he had none. “But I do have a damn good sniffer, and I’m not talking about the size of my nose. I’ve had it since I was a kid, and I’ve tried to get classified as Type IV Class C, but Centralia’s fucked-up system…”
“Sam,” Bill sighed.
“Centralia’s messed-up system doesn’t have a good classification system. What can I say? We all know that. I mean, how many classes are there?”
“Seven in Centralia’s system,” Roman said from the back. “Class A, telepathy; Class B, shifter/absorber; Class C, elemental mimicry/organic manipulation; Class D, kinetic/energy related; Class E, intelligence based; Class F, teleportation; and class H, healer.”
“See what I mean?” Sam asked the group. “All those classifications and nothing for the people who have heightened senses.”
“That would be intelligence based,” said Roman, “Class E. And you don’t have heightened senses.”
Sam raised an eyebrow at him. “Want to bet?”
“We don’t bet here,” Bill said, his eyes twitching.
“Don’t lead him on,” Ava whispered.
“He doesn’t have a heightened sense of smell,” Roman whispered back. “Everyone here is a non-exemplar.”
“Well, what will it be?” Sam asked, still challenging Roman.
“How does your power work?” Roman asked, a question he’d asked exemplars before during their immigration advisory sessions.
“No, let me finish, Bill,” Sam told the H-Anon leader with a wave of his hand. “It’s easy, really. I can get a sense of the history of something just by smelling it.”
“That’s it?”
“We’re not here to test supposed powers,” Bill reminded both of them.
“All it takes is one sniff,” Sam declared.
“And what do you mean by getting something’s history?” asked Roman, ignoring Bill.
“Roman,” Ava whispered again.
“I mean I can get… images, like moving thoughts or something—okay, flashbacks. Secrets. I believe that’s the best way to describe it.”
“But my power isn’t so heightened; I mean, I haven’t had any exemplar training, which would really let me develop it,” Sam said.
Roman stood and took off his jacket. He made his way up to the front of the room, the eyeballs of the eight or so H-Anon members following him as he reached the podium.
“It’s a new jacket,” Roman told Sam as he handed it to him. “Tell me about it.”
“This has gone on too far...” Bill said.
A wild look splashed across Sam’s eyes as he brought Roman’s jacket to his nostrils. He was just about to sniff it when he decided to blow his nose instead, which he did into a handkerchief he had in his back pocket.
“Sorry, it’s best to do this with clear pipes.”
“I can’t believe I’m allowing this to happen,” Bill grumbled. “But it’s a good example of what not to do when someone who doesn’t have a power claims they have a power. Hurry up, you two; others need to speak.”
Sam took a big whiff of Roman’s jacket and gasped, dropping the jacket to the ground.
“Hey,” Roman said, on the verge of animating his jacket and bringing it back to him. He stopped himself just in time, cutting a quick look over his shoulder at Ava, whose face had gone from amused to concerned.
“You’re… you’re an exemplar?” Sam asked, eying Roman suspiciously. “You bought this jacket with fake money. No… counterfeit money. That’s it! He’s an exemplar!”
Roman slowly started to shake his head. “Are you serious?”
A few of those seated behind him started to laugh.
“That’s quite enough, Sam,” Bill said as he ushered the thin guy off the stage.
“But I know what I smelled!” he said, much to the audience’s laughter.
Roman started to laugh as well, turning back to his chair. “Trust me, Sam, if I had a power, I definitely—definitely—wouldn’t be hanging out at H-Anon meetings.”
Once he was seated, Ava elbowed him in the side. “That was way too risky,” she hissed.
Roman gulped. “Yeah, I wasn’t expecting him to actually peg me like that. Sorry.”
His teacher simply rolled her eyes, both of them watching as Bill shuffled Sam away from the podium.
Chapter Two: Emelia’s Surprise
It had been a great night so far, and Roman Martin found he quite enjoyed conversing with his fiery teacher Ava Montague. She’d definitely given him shit about the incident at the H-Anon meeting, but as time had carried on with wine from the Southern Alliance pouring freely, they’d both loosened up.
Since Roman had the week off for bereavement, he felt no pressure to get home early or follow any set schedule. His plan was to dedicate the week to training and learning more about his strange power, but he also had some real-life affairs he needed to see to, such as the cremation of Celia’s body.
As Roman had done before, rather than focus on the truth and what needed to be done, he decided to keep things light and not beat himself up over this anymore. Not now—not with Ava sitting in front of him talking about other exemplars she had trained with and what it was like to be part of a team of superheroes.
At some point at the end of dinner, a message came in from Emelia that took him off guard: There has been a delay in retrieving your newest doll, Mr. Martin. I hope you don’t mind having a substitute until we can address this issue. I took some liberties with the substitute; please let me know if this is an issue. I hope to speak to you soon. Emelia.
Even as Ava spoke, Roman visualized Emelia, the sales assistant at the sex-doll shop who was always dressed professionally, a clip in her light-gray hair, her violet eyes, her mysterious smile.
How would the mysterious sales assistant react if she knew why Roman needed the sex dolls? Emelia was an exemplar, a Type IV, Class E and A, so maybe she’d be impressed.
Then again, animating sex dolls was a rather strange thing to be doing. Roman knew that, and he wasn’t supposed to tell anyone about his power anyway.
“Ah, look, I’ve finally lost your attention,” Ava said, finishing her third glass of wine.
“No, it’s not that. It was one of my business associates.”
“Business associate? You work in immigration,” she reminded him.
“True, and I’m off for the week.”
Ava hadn’t said anything to him about his wife, but she must have known what had happened from his files, or from the update she’d likely gotten from…
Actually, Roman didn’t know how updated his teacher was regarding his troubled past, and he didn’t want to know. Sometimes it was better that way.
“So you plan on training all week then, huh?”
“That’s the plan,” he said, the weight of guilt and remorse suddenly on his shoulders. It was going to be a tough week.
“Did I say something?”
“No, I just—well, I’ll be honest with you.”
Ava snorted. “Oh, this I’d like to hear.”
“It’s not as exciting as it sounds. I got a message saying that my next doll had been delivered, but they had to send a replacement or something because the one I ordered isn’t ready.”
“Why do I find myself interested in whatever sex doll you’ve had delivered to your home?” Ava tilted her wine glass, allowing the waiter to top it off.
“What can I say? I guess we all have issues.”
“Agreed, all exemplars have issues. That’s the first thing you should know about us.”
“I kind of figured it out over the last few years of dealing with every type of exemplar the world has ever seen.”
“You think you’ve seen them all? Get over yourself, Roman.”
“I’ve dealt with so many…”
“There are many more that you’ve never even heard of—powers too,” she said, her voice rising. “Trust me on that, especially if you head out to the Western Province. That’s where the freaky ones are. You of all people should know our classification system is overly simplified.”
Roman had to agree there. Centralia’s system definitely wasn’t up to par, which was something everyone knew.
Hell, his old officemate, Kevin Blackbook, had rambled about this at least once a day, complaining how the system hadn’t been updated in fifty years.
Ava emptied her wine glass and smiled contently. “Enough for me. Look, Roman, it’s been nice, but I’ve got to get to bed early tonight.”
“Sure,” he said, “let’s call it a night.”
“But first, I wouldn’t mind seeing this new doll you somehow picked up…” Ava swept some of the red hair out of her face, offering Roman a pouty grin.
Sometimes he felt like she was flirting; other times he felt like Ava was simply fucking with him. And since he didn’t know which it was, he had to toe the line a bit, not assuming but ready for anything.
“Well, if you’re inviting yourself over, we might as well order a teleporter,” Roman said as he waved the waiter over.
“Is your house clean? You never know with men in Centralia…”
Now it was his turn to chuckle. “Of course it’s clean. And besides, why would that matter?”
“The last male non-exemplar’s house I visited was filthy. Then again, he was a criminal.”
“First, I’m not a criminal; and second, I’m not a non-exemplar,” he said under his breath, “so I think you’re safe.”
Ava shrugged. “Okay, but I just want to check this new one out, though. Then I need to head home.”
“That’s fine by me.”
“This has to be some sort of joke,” Roman said as he ran a hand through his white hair.
Celia and Coma were sitting on the couch, both of them on either side of a polished wooden box. Ava couldn’t help but laugh, a long hard cackle that ended with her hands on her knees as she tried to recover.
“It’s just so funny!” she said,
her face red from wine and laughter.
“Hi, Ava,” Celia said in her sweet, melodic voice. The doll with the orange hair and light-purple eyes, pale skin and a shapely body was wearing some of Coma’s clothing, a black dress—frilled, low-cut—and a necklace that dipped into the space between her breasts.
My wife’s necklace…
Roman recognized it immediately, recalling their trip to the market along the southern border on a three-day weekend and how much his wife had bargained to get the necklace down to the price she’d wanted.
It was apropos in a way for Celia the doll to be wearing it, but it also made Roman feel uneasy, completely exposed, due to the alcohol he had ingested over the night coupled with a fair amount of guilt.
And then there was the box. Two boxes, to be exact, one on the couch and one sitting on the bar that Coma had already told him was from Harper.
A box of chocolates.
“So this is like a prank, right?” Ava asked as she moved over to the small wooden box on the couch.
“We didn’t check inside yet,” said Coma, her bright red eyes beaming behind the mask on her face. “We didn’t check the chocolates either,” she told Roman.
“And the chocolates are from…?” Ava began.
“Harper, a friend. But that’s not what is important.”
“Clearly,” his teacher said as she picked up the wooden box. “And it may be too early to tell, but it looks like you have a new little friend.”
“We wanted it to be a surprise,” Celia said. “Also, are either of you hungry? I tried some recipes that I found in the cooking book.”
Ava shook her head. “Not tonight. I’m not planning to stick around much longer.”
“Really?” asked Coma. “I figured because you came with Roman that you would be staying.”
Roman dropped his face into his hand.
“So that’s what happens around here,” Ava said, her arms crossing over her chest. She gave Roman a sly look, and he merely shrugged it off.
“Nothing happens around here,” he finally said, taking the wooden box from her. “I really need to send a message to my contact…”
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