The Distort Arc: Cape High Books 1-4 (Cape High Series Omnibus) (50 page)

"A very good idea," Papa says, leaning down and kissing me on the forehead.  "Have a good day."

"You, too, Papa," I say, waving as he gets in the car and drives off.

"That man is a wonderful example of a classic villain," Mastermental says to Max.  "Both class and skill.  You've been taking notes on his work, haven't you?"

"Absolutely," Max says.

They definitely know about Collector, don't they?  I say nothing, because neither of them are saying anything, and head for the panel to go in.  "Be in the meeting hall in ten minutes, please, Adanna," Mastermental calls over his shoulder.

"Yes, sir," I say.

***

You know the mad science building?  Nico's extremely fond of it, but he did a bit of revising recently.  There's a floor built into the walls now, so if you push a button it closes over the dirt, turning into a basketball court floor.  They've decided that it'll be like the regular school's gymnasium, and act as the meeting hall for big things.  That's where I'm heading to now.

I step into the building and look over the wooden planking on the floor curiously before stepping onto it.  It seems to have a tiny bit of give, I notice as I cross over to
where a large TV screen is hanging from a wall.  Zoe, Sunny, Trent and Emily are already there, lounging on the floor in a casual manner.  They wave as I appear, except for Sunny, who's using Trent's calf as a pillow and is sound asleep again.

I walk over to him and kick him lightly in the thigh.  "Wake up," I order before dropping down next to Emily.

"Kicking doesn't work," Trent says.  "But I'd rather not use the blowhorn, so let him sleep."

I snort even as Emily starts digging through her pockets.  "I got you a new toy!" she tells me, bringing out a toy mouse and what looks like an RC controller.  I stare at it.  "It's remote control!" she tells me, as if it weren't obvious.

"I see," I say a bit blandly. 

"Kitty," Sunny mumbles in his sleep, making me glance over at him.  He's got a stupid grin on his face, and I really, really want to divebomb him for it.  Seriously, I'm about to shift as Mastermental comes inside, leading a good dozen kids and Morgan.  But Zoe's the first to react.

"Isn't that Justin?" she asks blankly.

"What?" Emily asks, turning to look at Mastermental's group.  "Maybe he just looks like him--I mean, why would a famous singer guy be here?"

"He'd be here if he was a cape," Max mutters as he comes over to the group, dropping down next to Zoe and pushing her jaw up so it's closed.  "Quit staring, he might get the wrong idea," he adds, wrapping an arm around her waist.

"Justin is a super?" I ask blankly.  Sunny snores.  "Would you get the blowhorn out?  He's missing the drama.  He'll never shut up if he misses the drama, you know," I add, making Trent laugh loudly.

"I'll do it!" Emily says, hopping to her feet and heading upstairs for a second.  She comes back down with the blowhorn in her hand and heads for Sunny.  "Wake up, Sunny, or I'll use this," she warns him.

Much to my disappointment (and relief, honestly, I've got extremely sensitive hearing) Sunny wakes up, climbs over Trent's legs, away from Emily, and plops down, using my thigh as a pillow.  "Five more minutes," he mutters.

"Sunny!" Mastermental says--I can practically feel the mental impact as Sunny jumps a foot off the ground and hovers there for a good half minute before he realizes he's flying--and promptly falls on his face.

"Hi, Double M," he says, waving.  "Sup?"

"I'd like to introduce you all to your new classmates," Mastermental says.  "Including our newest applicant, Justin Gregory--or better known as simply Justin."  His tone is dry and not nearly dramatic enough for that declaration.  Every time you hear Justin's name on television it's emphasized really hard, like "Jus-tiiinnn."  I've always found it annoying, honestly, so it's pretty funny seeing Mastermental blow it off so easily.  I can't help but grin.

Sunny moves closer, wrapping an arm around my waist, as well.  Oh, please, I think dryly.  Like I'd be interested in a pop idol.  He's like, one step away from boyband, okay?  But oh well, I decide.  At least he's awake for once.  "Hey," he whispers.  "Did I just fly?"  Er... not the questions I was looking for, but he's probably three minutes behind, mentally, anyway.

The entire group bursts out laughing as I say, "No.  You just fell."

***

The money is in her account.  It's just enough to rebuild her basic tools, Star thinks as she closes her bank account window.  That means she can call her suppliers--but, she thinks, looking at the man laid out on the table, she needs Distort back in working order.

It won't be easy, she realizes.  The body is starting to stop operating properly.  Of course she saw that coming all the way back when they first started, but she had hoped that--

Well, she would need a replacement soon, she thinks, trying not to focus on that line of thought.  She has one picked out, already, if Distort was telling the truth.  The boy, both Superior and Elementalist, a perfect combination of power and young enough to gain control over.  He's the one she wants.

"Star?"

The voice is weak, but she nearly jumps out of her skin nonetheless.  She takes a deep breath and forces herself to calm down before getting to her feet and walking over to Distort.

"Yes, honey?" she asks, reaching up to push his hair out of his face.

"Star... I just wanted a family.  I'm sorry I was bad," he says as tears start to trickle down his temple.  "I'm sorry I was bad," he repeats.

"I know, honey," she says, leaning down and kissing his forehead.  "I know.  You'll be better soon, okay?"

"I don't feel good," he whispers.  "I feel weak."

"I know," she says.  "But you'll get stronger, soon, too."

"I think I'm dying," he says.  "I think I'm dying, Star.  If I die--you'll be left alone."

She feels something creep up her throat, a feeling that somehow seems like she's trying not to cry.  But that's ridiculous, she tells herself sharply.  It's ridiculous because she's not attached to Distort!  She can't be!

The look in his eyes changes, sharpening as the color seems to get darker, gleaming with something she hasn't seen in a very long time.  "When I die," he says.  But his voice isn't right, her mind whispers, his voice is--"When I die," he repeats, staring her straight in the eye, "you're going to go with me."  Then his tone changes back to the one she's come to know so well, "Right?"

He's looking at her so expectantly that she does the only thing she can think of.  She lies.  "Of course, honey.  We'll always be together."

***

by

R. J. Ross

I can hear voices.  I've gotten used to one of them, a man's voice.  He's usually cursing in a soothing tone.  I know he's cursing, I can hear him more clearly than the others, but I somehow get the feeling that he doesn't hate me.  I'm not used to that.

My name is Jack Hase.  I'm sixteen, maybe seventeen years old, I've got no idea how long I've been drifting around in here, and I have a pretty messed up past--even without all the crap I did to get myself stuck in my head.  I bet you've heard of me already, though.  I'm the guy that got his butt thoroughly kicked by Maximum over a girl named Zoe.

But that wasn't what I wanted to talk about.  It's sort of hard to focus in this state, okay?  So give me a minute...  Yeah, that's a new voice.  It's a female.  No, it's not Zoe.  I don't really know who it is, actually.  I mean, I've heard a lot of voices over the past--however long--but I haven't heard this one.

"So he's dying?"

Yeah, I'm dying.  Did you really have to put it that bluntly? 

"No, he's not."

Hey, man, I'm positive I'm dying here.  Don't lie to the girl.  I'm just waiting for that final moment with the bright light they keep talking about in movies and probably Hell.  I wasn't good enough for Heaven, even I know that.

"That's why you brought me here?" she asks.

"Yeah.  I never figured I'd find a healer in your group," the man says.  "What I want you to do is--"  The words seem distant, like I'm trying to hear them through a wall, and I'm sucked back into the dark emptiness of my mind.

***

"Hey, Jack."  The girl is back.  I'm not sure when I started hearing her as clearly as I heard the man, but I do.  "We're going to do some more work on you, okay?  So it might hurt, but only for a minute."  She sounds tired.  I want to see her, tell her she's wasting her time on me.  I'm not sure what's going on in this place, or even where I'm at, but I get the feeling that there's a lot of people.  If she's a healer, like what the man said, there's probably a ton of people that need her more than me.

I can't say anything, though.  I'm still stuck here, a prisoner in my own body.

"Are we ready?" the man asks.

"Yeah," she says.  "We're ready."

Hey, when did you get the right to say I'm ready or not, girl?  You're annoying.  Just go away already and let me die.

I can feel it, I think, distracted as my body starts reacting to whatever it is they're doing.  I can feel the metal inside of me ripping away from my insides.  It hurts.  I think I scream, but then I feel something else.  Relief.

It's too much for my brain.  I crash back into oblivion, fainting.

***

It's strange.  I can hear more people now, even understand them.  There's this nurse, I think, who comes in every few hours to move me around.  She's constantly talking to me, and it's thanks to her that I know where I am now.  It was irritating, not having a clue.  I'm in the Hall's ER wing, in a room with two other guys a lot like me--guys that were experimented on by that Star chick.  The lady with the glowing eyes and business suits.

They were probably in one of those glass cages like I was.  I feel sorry for the morons.  I'm sick of feeling sorry for myself, though.  I figure it was only fitting that I wound up like this.  It goes along with the rest of my life, you know?

But the lady abruptly stops talking to me and says in an almost reverent tone, "Aubrey!"

"Hi, Bonny," the girl says happily.  "We're back again.  How's he doing?"

"His vitals are looking a lot better.  And from the brainwave output I'm almost positive he's either dreaming or listening now."

"Really?" Aubrey asks.  "That's wonderful!"

I feel something strange inside, like... shock and maybe something like amazement.  She honestly meant that.  Well it's probably because she didn't know me before I was laid out like a puppet for her to mess around with.  I bet she wouldn't be so happy if she knew me.  She'd probably hate me.  Everyone else does.

"So he's doing better, huh?" I hear the man ask.  He moves really quietly.  I didn't even hear him come in.

"Mr. Technico," Bonny says.  "Yes, you're doing wonders with him--you both are."

"I promised my daughter I'd get him up and running," Technico says.  His daughter?  Zoe?  Zoe wants me alive again?  It's a stunning concept and I almost open my eyes because of it.

"He's reacting," Aubrey says in surprise.  I hear her move forward and feel her hand on my face.  "Jack?  Jack, come on, wake up--"

"No," Technico says.  "He needs to stay under for this one."

"But--why?"

"Because we're going to finish it today," he says.  "I've been running some tests for a while--I think he can control it with a few more adjustments."

"Really?  You mean it?" Aubrey asks.

"Yeah, I mean it.  There's no way we can turn him back into a norm, but I think we can turn him into a working cape.  Drug him, Bonny, he doesn't need to be awake for this one."

"Yes, Mr. Technico," Bonny says.  I hear a rustling noise and feel a needle poke me.  Then I'm unconscious again.

***

Something's different.  I feel like that tightness around my chest has disappeared.  I feel like I can--I can open my eyes!  Holy crap I've got my eyes open!  I'm looking at the ceiling, which is really,
really
boring, but I'm actually looking and that's the important part!

I take a deep breath.  I can breathe!  I move my hand, twitching it before my mind figures out how to use it again, and make a fist.  "Hey--" I whisper harshly.  My mouth is so dry.  It feels like my tongue is swollen and taking up most of it.

"You're awake?" I find myself looking at the most dangerous looking mother--er, man--I've ever seen.  I know that face.  I know that voice even better.  It's Technico, Zoe's dad.  "Good.  We need that bed.  Get up, you should be able to, now."

"Water," I rasp out.  A woman in a black nurse's outfit moves forward, slipping a straw into my mouth.  I take a drink, almost choke, and drink some more.  It feels good being able to swallow easily.  When she pulls away the straw I start to sit up.  She looks panicked.

"You shouldn't be--"

"He's fine," Technico says.  "He's in better shape than most.  Aubrey's got skills I never thought I'd see in someone her age."

I feel a little light headed, really, but I'm sitting up.  I hold my hand up, staring at the thin metal lines that swirl over my flesh.  "I thought I was fine," I say, making sure I can use my fingers, still.

"You are.  But until you learn to control it, that metal on your skin is permanent.  We pulled it away from the joints, you should be able to move them, but we had to move it somewhere," Technico says.  "I hope you don't mind avoiding metal scanners for the rest of your life."

"What?" I ask.

"All of your bones are coated with the metal, so is over ninety percent of your flesh and all of your hair.  You probably won't be growing any taller, but hey, you're over six feet, you should be fine.  You will weigh more, though."

I lift my arm, making a face as I feel the weight.  "Uh... yeah," I say.  What have I turned myself into?  "Who uh... who's Aubrey?"  Where's Aubrey, I want to ask.  I want to see her, but that's stupid.  She's probably a moron.  No, there's no probably about it.  Only a moron helps out guys they don't even know, right?  So I should avoid her--

"School," Technico says.  "Where you'll be going, soon enough.  I've already talked with Marge."

Marge.  Oh man, I forgot completely about Marge!  "She--" I start out.

"She knows.  Everything," Technico says bluntly.  "Including what you are, now.  She's been calling me daily, and now that you're up and talking, she'll be calling you, as well.  She loves you, you know."

"Not likely," I mutter.  "You should have just let me die."

"You know, I would almost agree with you on that," Technico says.  "You were pretty much touch and go there for a while.  If Zoe hadn't done what she did, or had screwed it up, you'd have been dead several months ago.  But she made a deal with me, and she's kept her side of it so I'm keeping mine.  Now get up, get dressed, you're moving in with America's Son's family."

"What?  Why?" I demand.

"Because they live in the apartment, which makes you close to me and Aubrey, since I moved her in with Liz and Emily.  Unfortunately, with your type of powers, we need to keep a close eye on you.  Otherwise I'd stick you in the dorm with the zoo kids."

"Zoo kids?" I ask.  "What are they, bigger freaks than I am?"

"I'd watch that term if I were you," Technico says.  "You might be tougher than a lot of people now, but your life was saved by one of them."

"Yeah, whatever," I mutter, crossing my arms over my chest only to get distracted by the metal swirls again.  I bring my hand up, staring at it in wonder.  "This is... seriously awesome," I say, making a fist.  What?  Piercings and tattoos are all cool, but this is like, on a totally different level of awesome.

"You'll be able to control it with practice," Technico says.  "But come on, we need that bed."

"Yeah," I say, dropping my legs over the edge and getting to my feet.  I weigh a freaking ton.  I stagger a few steps forward before getting my balance.  "What about my stuff?" I ask, still stuck on the idea of living in the same apartment as a super hero.  I mean, are they expecting me to become a hero or something?  I don't want to be a hero!  That would suck!

"Already at the apartment," Technico says.  It's about this time that I feel a definite draft from the back.  I look down, staring at the green paper thing I'm wearing.

"Can I get some pants?" I say.

A pair of pants hit me in the face.

***

The Hall itself is like a business building, as far as I can tell.  I mean, everywhere I look there's more people in black suits carrying files and talking about mechanics and stuff.  I haven't seen a single hero yet, actually, which strikes me as weird.  "This is the Hall, right?" I ask Technico after we pass a large crowd of black suits.

"Yeah, it is," he says, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans.  He's wearing a T-shirt that has a cartoon version of America's Son on it.  I have no idea why.

"Then where are the heroes?"

"We're in the hospital ward," Technico says.  "They're either so beat up they're in a room, or they aren't here."

"Oh."

"Not going to ask about Zoe?" he asks.

I shrug.  "She's um... she probably hates me," I say finally.  "I mean, since she always did."

"And she's dating Maximum," he agrees.  "So we'll clear this up right now.  You don't have a chance, so I suggest you find a group to hang with, figure out whether you're a hero or a villain, learn how to use your abilities, and most importantly, find a girl that isn't dating a guy that could still kill you even with your new abilities."

"Hey, I'm not a pushover, you know," I snap.

"No, you're not," he agrees.  "But neither is Maximum.  Even if he is a super shorty."

I snort, shoving my own hands into my pockets.  He never gave me a shirt--or even shoes, I think, glancing down at my metal laced feet.  I see several of the black suits do double takes, looking at me in surprise, then turning quickly and pretending not to.  I flip one of the guys off when he takes too long staring.

"Until you're declared a super villain officially," Technico says, "you might watch yourself around the suits.  They might not be capes, but they're trained well enough to take you down as you are right now."

"It's his own fault," I mutter, reaching up self consciously and running a hand over my metal laced chest.  "Starin' at me.  Why don't I have a shirt, anyway?" I add, looking at him.

"You didn't ask."

"Wh--you--can I PLEASE have a shirt and some shoes?" I ask irritably.

He pulls a tanktop and a pair of flipflops out of the bag over his shoulder, handing them over.  They're both black, which I appreciate, but not enough to tell him.  I tug them on and start walking again.  I feel a little less vulnerable, which is ridiculous.  I've got freaking metal bones now.  METAL BONES.

That's seriously awesome.  But it's also exhausting, I think as we get to stairs.  "Hey, why don't I have like, super strength now?" I demand.  "I'm already tired."

"You do," Technico says.  "But it's something that I think you'll be growing into.  Although, honestly, you're already starting to show it a bit.  You've got to weigh at least three times as much as you used to.  We haven't weighed you proper yet, we'll find out soon enough."

"So... over three hundred pounds?" I ask, stunned at the very idea of being that heavy.  That's the size of a football player or bigger.  "But I'm not bigger," I say, looking at my arm and patting my stomach.

"You're just heavier."

"Huh."  I look at him.  "I'm taking the elevator," I say, heading for the elevator door rather than even attempting the stairs.  He starts laughing and I feel my neck get warm out of embarrassment, but you try going down who knows how many flights of stairs with three times your usual weight.  I'm having enough trouble staying upright.