Corpies (Super Powereds Spinoff Book 1) (37 page)

BOOK: Corpies (Super Powereds Spinoff Book 1)
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Jeremiah clicked again and new slide appeared. This one still marked Delpham’s location, but it also had colored dots representing each of the bases attacked by the robots. Before he said a word, it was evident what had happened. Those three bases formed a misshapen triangle around the company—not especially close to it, but probably nearer than any other Hero bases.

“As you can see, your teams would have been the first to respond to the call, were you not under assault. Additionally, having those three squads make such a ruckus let the fourth one slip through town unnoticed, and ensured most of our Heroes were playing defense rather than offense. From stem to stern, this whole play was never about sticking to their pattern. It was about keeping our hands full while they stole prototypes from Delpham, and damn if they didn’t pull it off perfectly.”

“Bastards,” Gale swore, grimly staring at the map before them. “How did we not see this coming?”

“Why would we have? They’ve never done anything remotely like this. If I didn’t know better, I’d guess that they spent all those other attacks training us to look right, just so they could completely catch us off guard when they went left,” Jeremiah said.

“Let’s focus on the matter at hand,” Titan said. “If they went to all that trouble to successfully rob some place in the middle of Brewster, it must have had something they wanted pretty badly.”

“That was my first thought, too,” Jeremiah agreed. “Sadly, the company was not particularly compliant in giving us a list of stolen goods. Something about copyrights, industrial espionage, technology thieves, blah blah, you get the idea. It will take me time to get a full list of everything that was taken, but before the meeting I was able to. . . let’s call it
liberate
. . . the details of one item.”

Jeremiah clicked his remote once more, and a detailed schematic for some cylindrical device popped up on screen.

“Yeah, if we’re supposed to know what this is. . . we don’t,” Deadlift said.

“Nor would I expect you to. This device is a highly experimental gravity distortion field generator, based on the work of a long-dead tech-genius who attacked San Francisco. From what my smarter teammates have told me, it seeks to circumvent the size restrictions inherent to building large machines. Giant robots, for example, currently weigh too much to be able to move on two legs unless the higher pieces were made of far less dense materials. So, unless someone is a tech-genius who finds a workaround, robots must either be small and durable or large and vulnerable. With this device, however, the weight could be compensated for by a weakened gravity field, allowing for almost no limitation on the size of a robot’s construction.”

Jeremiah paused to make sure the others were taking his message; the worried expressions greeting him made abundantly clear they were. Still, he felt it was good to really send the point home, just so they understood the severity of what faced them.

“To put it simply: the next wave of these machines we face may not come through downtown. They might be the size of downtown.”

 

 

70.

 

               Owen was expecting a bit of a circus when he returned to the top floor of the Mordent Holdings building; after all, the city had just seen another attack by robots, albeit a small one. He was not, however, prepared for the utter chaos he walked in on as soon as the front door opened.

Mr. Greene was on the phone, shouting loudly at someone about defamation and lawsuits, while a myriad of people clustered and scuttled around him, all on phones or laptops of their own. From down the hall came an occasional bout of shouting, which quickly died away into what Owen thought might be sobs or angry screams; often the two were hard to distinguish at a distance. The only member of his team in the living room was Hexcellent, who was playing one of her video games in spite of the people who kept darting in front of the television. Given the expression on her face, Owen wouldn’t have been shocked if Huggles or Big Henry soon made an appearance to enforce the sanctity of the screen.

“There is no way I fucked up bad enough for all of this,” Owen said, standing next to Hexcellent as the crowd parted and ignored him.

“For once, my favorite scapegoat, you are not the cause of today’s drama,” Hexcellent replied. “That honor goes to Bubble Bubble, who has had the dubious honor of an internet scandal all her own.”

“Did she scowl at the wrong person?” Owen asked.

“If only. Seems someone might have made a little whoopee with one of her commercial directors, and a very incriminating tape leaked online. Since he’s done movie work and she’s actually becoming well-known, the media decided to run with it. Probably doesn’t help that, at the time, he was supposedly dating a well-known actress as well.” Hexcellent scowled as a dark-haired woman in a pantsuit strolled in front of the television, causing her to miss the jump to her next platform. “Also not helping that she’s on a team with you. Let’s just say parallels are being drawn.”

“You have to be fucking kidding me.” Owen heard another bout of shouting, though this time he had a more accurate guess as to what might be the cause. “I assume Zone and Galvanize are comforting her?”

“More like trying to coax her out of her room, which she locked herself in,” Hexcellent corrected. “I thought it best if I stayed out of the way for now. She and I don’t have the best dynamic anyway, and I wouldn’t want to see someone as bitchy as me during all this.”

“Good intentions,” Owen said. “But unfortunately, the wrong strategy.” With a single motion he scooped Hexcellent off the couch, knocking the controller to the ground and sending her character off to die. It was enough of an event to draw attention from Mr. Greene and the suits, though only the former bothered addressing it.

“What are you doing?”

“Fireman’s carry, I think,” Hexcellent chirped from over his shoulder. “Also, holy shit you are tall. I never really noticed looking up at you.”

“I’m going to help my teammate,” Owen replied. “And we all need to be there. Don’t worry about it; you stay out here and keep doing damage control. If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know.”

Mr. Greene didn’t even bother to conceal the sneer on his lips. “I’ll certainly keep that in mind.”

“Please do, because I mean it.” Owen rested a meaty hand on Mr. Greene’s shoulder, sending ripples of confusion across the leaner man’s face. “You and I might not get along, but if there are some PR hoops I can jump through to make this easier on Bubble Bubble, say the word.”

“I. . . I will actually keep it in mind,” Mr. Greene said, this time with exponentially more sincerity. He still didn’t seem to trust Owen in the media’s eye, but the man was too powerful of a tool to ignore entirely.

“Thanks.” Owen adjusted his grip on Hexcellent and waded his way through the sea of people and into the hallway.

“You know, I would have just come along if you told me to,” Hexcellent said from flopped over his shoulder.

“I know. I just thought you’d have more fun this way.”

“You’re like the big gay older brother I always wanted.”

They quickly arrived at Bubble Bubble’s door, where Zone and Galvanize were pleading their case. Since the door was firmly wedged closed, he could see how well that tactic was going.

“Owen, we’re glad you could make it back,” Galvanize said. “Things are a bit hectic right now-”

“I brought him up to speed,” Hexcellent said as Owen set her carefully on the ground. “Even told him B.B. had locked herself up.”

“We’ve tried everything to get her out,” Zone told them. “She just keeps yelling at us to go away, so maybe she wants to deal with this in private.”

“Oh, I don’t have any doubt that’s what she thinks she wants,” Owen said. “But as the only one here to have been on the other side of that door, I also know how important it is she have people reminding her that she’s not alone in all of this. Now pay attention: if you ever have kids one day this is a technique you’ll want to use when they inevitably try to lock you out of a room.”

Owen leaned in and tapped lightly, but firmly, on the sealed door. “Bubble Bubble, it’s me, Titan. I’m here with the rest of the team, and just the rest of the team. We’re here to talk things out with you.”

“There’s nothing to talk about!” Bubble Bubble’s voice cracked halfway through the scream, a telltale sign she’d probably cried herself partially hoarse. “I’m packing up and quitting. My career is ruined.”

“If that’s what you decide to do when you calm down, then we’ll help you pack, but first you need to get some perspective and let the initial wave of panic wash away. That’s what we’re going to help you with.”

“I’m not opening the door!”

“Suit yourself; I’m sure maintenance can get a replacement in the next couple of days. You might want to stand back, though. I’d hate for you to get clipped by any debris.” Owen reared back and closed his hand into a sizable fist.

“What are you. . . are you breaking my door down?!?”

“Or you can open it, but we’re not going to let you be alone. I’ve been where you are, kid. I mean, almost exactly where you are. I know firsthand that right now you’re scared and ashamed, and the idea of talking about it literally fills you with stomach-churning dread because it will make it all become real. But you have to talk about it. If not with us, then with someone we can bring here. You can’t sit alone and let it fester, because you’re going to make snap choices. Decisions that will have much bigger impacts than you expect. You’ll do things that, years from now, when you finally do get that clarity, you’ll realize you regret even more than the thing that stirred you up in the first place.”

For a long moment no sound came from the other side of the door. Owen pulled back his punch a bit further, then a small click came from the door and it opened several inches. Bleary- faced and red-eyed, Bubble Bubble stared back at them from the small opening to her room.

“You can come in, but only for a few minutes.”

 

 

71.

 

               “Let’s start at the beginning,” Owen said. He scanned Bubble Bubble’s room, having never been invited in before, and noted that it was significantly larger than his own. She’d decorated it tastefully, save for the fact that most decorations featured her promoting some brand of product. It reminded Owen of the rooms a new Hero usually had when getting their first taste of fame and public adulation.

“There’s not much to tell.” Bubble Bubble shut the door behind Hexcellent as the tattooed girl scurried past. “It was two years ago when I was just getting real endorsement deals. Corbin Calhoun was charming and handsome, plus a real director to boot. After we wrapped the commercial he asked me out for dinner and one thing led to another. Two days later I was reading a magazine that talked about him and his girlfriend, who he’d failed to mention existed, going on a vacation to Paris. I never took his calls or worked with him again. Of course, whoever leaked the hotel footage of us making out in an elevator and going into a room didn’t add in those details.”

“I’m going to make a wager that he isn’t telling that version of the story,” Owen said.

“Sadly, no,” Galvanize said. He settled into a computer chair Bubble Bubble had left out while the others settled cross-legged on the floor. “According to Mr. Greene, the story is that Bubble Bubble seduced Corbin, leading him astray. There have even been some sources trying to claim that as a Super, she had some unnatural sway over his actions.”

An all-too-familiar vein throbbed in the back of Owen’s neck, but for Bubble Bubble’s sake he kept his face neutral. Despite decades of research and a well-controlled government program, people still liked to trot out the “who knows what a Super can really do” card if it made life easier on them. Heroes were usually spared the indignity, if only because no one wanted to piss off the people stopping the real bad guys from laying waste to a city. Other Supers weren’t quite so lucky.

“From what I heard, Mr. Greene is launching defamation suits against every news outlet that tries to report that angle. Bubble Bubble’s powers have been on record and used in public for years, so there’s no foundation for such claims,” Galvanize added.

“He can sue whoever he wants to, as long I don’t have to show up at the hearings,” Bubble Bubble said. “It doesn’t matter how this shakes out. No matter what, I’m fucked. All my brands are about being upscale, desirable, and classy. Screwing some director makes me look like a desperate slut. I’d be amazed if most of my sponsors haven’t already dropped me.” She lowered her head and leaned against the far wall, small droplets of tears running down her face anew.

“The ones owned by Mordent will probably stick with you,” Zone said. It wasn’t terribly helpful, but at least he was trying.

“It’s just so unfair. I made one mistake when I was younger and now everything I’ve been working so hard, so
damned
hard, to get is going to burn up right in front of me. I’m so careful, I’m so good, I’m. . .” She turned her head and screamed toward the ceiling, “I’m the perfect pristine fucking mascot!” Her shoulder slumped as the anger seemed to leave her as quickly as it came. “All those years posing, holding my tongue, being demure, all of it is going to be forgotten. . . just because of one stupid mistake.”

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