The Prospects (10 page)

Vijay paused the game. “Uh …. he must have taken bad notes.”

“Well, there are lots of notes about how great you are, but they’re full of misspellings. I once saw Sarge lecture a cop for misspelling a word in an arrest report. The part about how proper spelling is a cornerstone of citizenship really stuck with me.”

Vijay put the controller down. “In my defense, that tablet was easy to hack. It’s connected to the wifi, so I only had to …”

“No technobabble. In the gym, now.”

“I’m not wearing my Asura costume.”

“Now.”

Defeated, Vijay followed Alex to the gym.

“First thing you’re going to do is drop and give me twenty.”

Vijay got into a pushup position. “I don’t see what good this is going to do.”

“It will do us all a lot of good.”

After the pushups, Vijay said, “Lesson learned. I won’t hack your tablet again.”

“No, that was for calling Jenny fat.” Alex grabbed the mop and bucket. “For lying to your trainer, you have to clean the whole gym floor. Do a good job or you’ll have to do it again.”

“I’m a freakin’ genius, and you’re making me clean?”

“A real genius would stay out of trouble.”

“This is cruel.”

“’Cruel’ is disrespecting your teammates and trainer. ‘Not cruel’ is making it up to them by making the gym nicer.”

After most of an hour, the gym was considerably less dingy.

“This is demeaning,” said Vijay as he wiped the mirror.

“If you don’t like cleaning mirrors, don’t insult Trista. One last thing. Get some tools and fix the broken treadmill.”

“But someone puked in it.”

“That’s your punishment for hacking my tablet. The next time you mouth off to a teammate, you’re going to make the bathrooms sparkle. Mess with Trista, you clean every bathroom in the building. Hack without my permission, you’ll replace every light bulb in Griffin Tower.”

Vijay muttered obscenities as he fixed the treadmills. He finished before Gale Force and Trista arrived.

“Trista, why aren’t you wearing your costume?”

Trista shifted in the same blue sweatshirt and scrub pants she wore the previous day. “Lady Amazing didn’t make me wear it.”

“I’m not Lady Amazing,” said Alex. “Go sit against the wall. Jenny – excuse me, Gale Force – is scheduled for target training. That sounds boring.”

“Sarge said all blasters like me are good for are shooting.” She punched air. The punching bag flew back. The light blue scarves and skirt over her sky-blue bodysuit moved with the wind.

“I’ve seen some blasters use their powers more creatively. According to Sarge’s notes, you’re from Harrison, New Jersey. Wasn’t there a school shooting there a couple of years ago?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you know the school where it happened?”

“I went there.”

“A previously unknown metahuman managed to stop the shooters without badly hurting them. I put your name into Google, and sure enough it was you.”

“They shot two students and a teacher first. I couldn’t save them.”

“Why not?”

“I was in a different room when the shooting started.”

“But you saved everyone else?”

“I did what anyone with my powers would do.”

“You’re way too modest. I’ve known people who got cats down from trees and talk about it like they deserve the Medal of Honor.”

Gale Force shrugged.

“But you put in a request to leave. Why?”

“My goal is to be a superhero by the time I turn twenty-one.”

“Sounds like you already are.”

“I want to be on a team.”

“Aren’t you?”

“I don’t consider the Prospects a real team, but it’s the only one that accepted me.”

“Why did everyone else reject you?”

“A lot of reasons. The Young Sentinels outright said I was too fat.”

“Forget those idiots. The Young Sentinels don’t even have legal recognition because they’re technically entertainers. They only see action from the sidelines when the real heroes want to beef up their numbers.”

“All the same, I turn twenty-one in two weeks. I tried, I failed.”

“You can be an independent superheroine. With some police training, you can get legal recognition.”

“I’m going to get a real job. I’ve embarrassed myself enough.”

“But you did great the other night.”

“I got blinded.”

“You held your position and you looked out for your teammate after the fighting stopped. We didn’t win, I mean, achieve the objective, but that wasn’t your fault. Heroes lose sometimes.”

“I don’t want to lose again. I just want to go home.”

“You can’t leave until after lockdown ends, and I can’t guarantee that will be before your birthday. I also don’t know how to help you with target shooting because my exoskeleton had automatic aiming.”

“I can do it myself. I always did Sarge just yelled about how fat I am.”

“Did he say something about how you learn better when you’re angry?”

That took Gale Force aback. “How did you know?”

“He trained me. I still remember the horrible things he said. But, instead of saying horrible things to you, I’ll work with Trista.”

Jenny set up targets while Alex sat next to Trista. “I thought you hated that sweatshirt.”

She tugged at its collar. “I don’t have many clothes.”

“The tablet says you skipped a lot of sessions, but today should be physical conditioning.”

Trista tensed.

Alex closed the tablet. “We’re not doing that. Whatever Sarge did with you wasn’t working. What did you do with Lady Amazing?”

“We talked.”

“About what?”

“She said I needed someone to talk to more than I needed exercise.”

“I’ll put in a request for a therapist on Monday. It may take a while to do the background clearances.”

“Can I talk to Lady Amazing?”

“Mister Griffin said no phone for you.”

“But she said I should ask you to call her.”

“I covered up your escape and let you not wear your costume. That’s a lot of rule-breaking already.”

Trista looked away. “You said I should talk to someone about what happened.”

Alex got his smartphone out and pressed a button. “Charlene, it’s Alex. Trista wants to talk to you. Call back when you can.” He hung up. “I’ll let you know when she calls back.”

Trista bit her lip.

After an awkward silence Alex said, “I shouldn’t have threatened you the other day.”

Trista didn’t say anything.

“I mean, it was two years ago when you … when we ....”

“I remember,” said Trista.”

“I need to forget about it.”

“We can’t forget being hurt. Damage changes us. It makes us a little different from before.”

“Be that as it may, it’d be better for both of us if I leave that in the past.”

“Does that mean you’ll try to forgive me?”

“Woah, slow down. I said forget, I meant forget.”

Trista raised her head and looked at Alex. “I meant what I said about being sorry.”

“And I’m sorry I called you a liar when you said that. It didn’t make things better for anyone.”

“You were scared of me.”

“Which is no excuse for attacking you. Heroes shouldn’t be cruel. We shouldn’t hurt anyone any more than necessary to restore peace. That’s what separates us from villains.”

“That’s what Sergeant Hammer said after he beat the Uber-Aryan in ‘Decision at Dachau.’”

Alex’s eyebrows raised. “You read Sergeant Hammer comics?”

“I read a few. My brother is a big fan.”

“I was a big fan too. I mean, growing up, I set aside the first few dollars of my allowance to buy the latest issue. I read them until they fell apart.”

“Sergeant Hammer is very different in the comics than he is in real life.”

“Yeah, in the comics he’s all American spirit and apple pie. I was shocked when I met him in the Agent Exo candidate training program. The things he did would get a drill sergeant court-marshaled. His idea of training people how to fight is to attack them until they learn to fight back or run away. I remember when one guy died, all he said was, ‘a weakbody wiped out.’ He should not have been training you.”

“You don’t like Sergeant Hammer?”

“He’s a great warrior, not a great person. He saved my life dozens of times, and I don’t even know his real name. I’ve never seen him without his mask. It’s like he doesn’t have a secret or alternate identity.”

“Can we not talk about him?”

“One more thing we can’t talk about. So you want to be back with your family?”

Trista nervously looked away.

“That’s a good goal,” said Alex. “I want to get back with my family too.”

After another period of awkward silence Trista asked, “What did Mister Griffin say about Marilyn Manson and Sleepy Foam?”

“That was Charles Manson and Squeaky Frome.”

“Who are they?”

“Manson led a cult in the sixties. His followers murdered for him, which is impressive because he had no psychic powers. When he was imprisoned, Squeaky, one of his followers, tried to kill President Ford. It was like he was still controlling her even though she was away from him.”

Trista looked down.

Alex said, “Lady Amazing said you’re a different person than you were under the Idea Man’s control.”

“I didn’t feel controlled, but it’s like all of my memories of him are … louder … than anything before or after. By his side I felt so free, so powerful, so beautiful. Now I feel like a weak, ugly prisoner.”

“You’re not ugly.”

“Being with him, I did anything I wanted. I didn’t care about right or wrong. I thought what I wanted had to be right. But when I was in jail, I realized how many people I hurt. I feel horrible about it.”

“Well, those of us you hurt don’t feel good about it either.”

“I don’t want to go back to him. But if he’s out there, he may come for me.”

“You’re beyond his power. This skyscraper has lead and magnets in the walls. Mister Griffin offered a cash prize for any psychic who could penetrate it. None could.”

“What if finds a way inside?”

“We’ll protect you. Me and the Prospects.”

“They hate me.”

“You stood up for me, I did the same for you. If anyone gives you crap, tell me and I’ll come down hard on them.”

Trista hugged her knees. “I don’t want to cause any trouble for anyone.”

“Hey, listen. We saw each other in our lowest moments. You promised not to hurt me. I won’t hurt you either, and I won’t let you be hurt. When Lady Amazing gets back we won’t see each other again until your probation hearing. Stay on your best behavior, I’ll say good things about you. It’ll improve your chances of not having to wear that nullifier anymore.”

Trista relaxed a little.

Alex added, “Anything I can do make things easier until then?”

“Would it be okay if I don’t wear my costume? I really don’t like it. I made it when I was with the Idea Man. It brings back bad memories for me.”

“You’re assertively expressing your feelings. Lady Amazing will be proud.”

“So can I not wear it?”

“I’d rather you didn’t. It brings back bad memories for me too.”

“So this is dinner?” asked Alex. “It doesn’t look so bad.”

The Prospects, all in their costumes except for Vijay and Trista, did not look excited about what the tower staff delivered to the kitchen.

Vijay turned his nose up at the plastic tray of steaming vegetables and tofu. “You haven’t had to eat it for two months straight.”

“It’s not that it’s bad,” said Gale Force, “it’s boring. After a while you stop tasting it.”

“I can’t even taste thanks to my broken nose,” said Zany, “and I still don’t want any.”

“I’d kill for a pizza,” said Goldstreak.

Alex’s smartphone beeped. He put the speaker on.

Jim said, “Assemble the Prospects, pronto.”

Alex tugged the bandage around his neck. “We’ve barely recovered from the last mission.”

“A van at the south exit will take your team to Madison Square Garden.”

“Why?”

“Riot. Some snot-nosed pop star didn’t show up to a sold-out concert. The fans are taking their disappointment out on the city.”

“The Prospects aren’t trained for crowd control.”

“Screw training. All they have to do is stand behind the cops. That scares lots of rioters into settling down real fast.”

“What about the reserve superheroes?”

“It’s Saturday night. They’ve got their own beats to worry about. This mission requires so little skill I already called the Young Sentinels to help. Oh, and take that psychic girl. We don’t want her wandering the tower alone.” Jim hung up.

“For two months we never got called on a mission,” said Gale Force. “This is our second one in three days.”

Alex took a first aid kit from the wall and handed it to Goldstreak. “Do what you can with this. Vijay, get in your costume and meet us at the van.”

“Can I bring the sonic rifle?” asked Vijay.

“Sure.”

“Wait,” said Zany, “Trista doesn’t have to wear her costume?”

“I’m not going to make her go out in lingerie on a cold night like this.”

“I call shotgun.” Goldstreak sprinted out the door before his dropped fork hit the tray. Vijay – now Asura with his sonic rifle and in his black-and-green trenchcoat - caught up just as the doors were closing.

The rest of the team poured into the unmarked white van. From Griffin Tower they could hear the shouts from rioters and police orders delivered with bullhorns.

Alex noticed Candilyn holding her jester’s stick below her broad excited smile.

“Zany, take the spikes off.”

“Oh, come on!”

“No spikes.”

She grumbled and twisted the spikes off.

Alex took off his pistol and handed it, along with the tablet, to Goldstreak. “Put these in the glove compartment.” He patted the handcuffs in his hooded sweatshirt pocket and raised his smartphone. “Where do you want us, Mister Griffin?”

“Go to 34th Street. The riot is spreading there. The Young Sentinels are holding strong at 32th Street.”

“Why did you call him Mister Griffin?” asked Asura. “Usually you call him Jim.”

“He’s Jim when we’re not on a mission,” said Alex. “We use our codenames when in action so we feel like superheroes.”

Goldstreak went through the first aid kit. “Wearing costumes isn’t enough?”

“They’re only clothes. Anyone can wear those.”

“What about being a superhero?” asked Zany.

“It’s easy to forget who you are in combat.” Alex leaned forward to look through the windshield. “We’re downwind of the tear gas, so there’s no shame in crying.”

“Sarge locked us in a tear gas-filled room,” said Asura, “for two hours.”

“We were covered in each other’s snots,” said Zany.

“It won’t be that concentrated,” said Alex. “Gale Force, use your powers to send the gas back onto the crowd and away from the cops. Asura, if there’s a hole in the police line use the rifle on its lowest settings. Only take a shot if you’re sure you won’t hit a cop. Zany, protect your teammates if the police line falls apart. Fight defensively. If you charge again … I’ll ask Sarge for a discipline suggestion.”

Zany adjusted her nose bandage. “I’ll be good.”

“Goldstreak, run around and help anyone who needs it. Don’t take unnecessary risks.”

“What about me?” asked Trista.

“Stay with me. We’ll circle the perimeter to find trouble spots.”

Trista tugged at her nullifier’s headstrap. “I can do more without this.”

Alex held the nullifier’s key. “If things get bad, I’ll take it off. Let’s get through this without anyone getting hurt. If we can’t, all I can say is I trained you the best I could with the time I had.”

Once again, Alex felt naked going into battle without his exoskeleton. He missed knowing he could shove his way through the crowd to save someone or withstand a thrown bricks without a bruise. He really missed his helmet’s parabolic auditory and low-light visual enhancements, because the noise was deafening and the occasional flashes of fire ruined his night vision.

And he especially missed everyone knowing who he was in the armor. Without it, he had to deal with the police officers who were pointing their nightsticks at him.

Alex pulled out his badge.

A cop pointed his stick at Trista. “Where’s hers?”

“Special permission.”

The cop shook his head. “No badge, she doesn’t go. And what’s with her stupid helmet?”

“Listen, she’s …” That was when the barrier fell beneath a surge of frenzied hard rock fans. The police rushed forward to hold them back, but the crowd responded with a greater push forward.

Alex grabbed Trista’s hand and ran behind a police car. The mob surged against a dozen charging police officers.

Trista grabbed Alex’s collar and shouted into his ear. “I know that guy.”

“What guy?”

“The one in the middle. He’s wearing a gas mask. He’s doing this.”

Alex climbed to the roof of the police car and pulled Trista up. In the middle of the riot a man in a tattered trench coat and an antique gas mask with a multicolored mohawk stood in an empty circle.

“Who’s that?” Alex asked.

“He called himself Lord Mosh. He wanted to join the Ultra-Geniuses. He can …”

Lord Mosh pointed in their direction. The mob broke though the police line and slammed against the car. As Alex struggled to keep his footing he saw the Young Sentinels on the other side of the riot. The good-looking kids in their stainless shiny costumes looked terrified.

Alex put the key into the psychic nullifier and took it off Trista. “Stay on this car,” said Alex.

Trista looked into the eyes of the closest rioter. He stopped and lowered his raised fist. The next person dropped the board he was wielding and looked confused. The next one, a huge man, turned and pushed the other rioters back.

Cradling the nullifier like a football, Alex leapt off of the car. He ran alongside the surge, slipping past the police as they regained the line. When he got inside the barrier, his head began to feel warm. His heart pounded faster as he thought of all the goddamn idiots, all of these assholes tearing apart his …

It was a psychic attack. He had been hit by enough of them to know when his thoughts were being influenced.

It couldn’t have been from Trista, she was behind him and couldn’t make eye contact. Everyone around him was raging, and these were people who probably held good jobs and had families.

It must be Lord Mosh making everyone instantly angry.

Alex remembered that psychic nullifiers not only make it impossible for the wearer to generate psychic energy, they also act like a shield against outside attacks. He forced the nullifier onto his own head. The feeling instantly disappeared.

To his right he heard a scream. The mob had broken through the barrier between them and the Young Sentinels. Many hands grabbed Cantrip’s tuxedo tails. The young magician screamed, “Help me!” as Rock Jock, a living statue with football pads, shoved against the swarming crowd.

Being the kind of man who would defend someone in trouble, Alex attacked the mob from the rear. He remembered Sarge’s voice: “If you can count high enough to know you’re outnumbered, surprise them.” He caught one rioter in a headlock and threw a roundhouse kick into another one’s spine. The mob seemed so intent on Cantrip they ignored Alex as he dispatched of them one at a time.

Before Alex could get to the last rioter, a thin young man wearing every color in the rainbow pulled Cantrip free while a statuesque girl in a skintight red bodysuit and boxing gloves punched everyone around him. It was Pinwheel and Knockout Rose, the flamboyant gay sidekick to Stardancer and the girl who always got caught and tied up in the comics.

Alex met them before when he was wearing his exoskeleton. They didn’t recognize Alex without it.

Pinwheel created a blinding blast of spinning lights and Knockout Rose landed a solid right cross on Alex’s chin.

Alex stumbled back into the crowd, blinked furiously until his vision returned, and looked back. The police who closed the barrier’s gap in front of Trista were retreating. He jumped and saw Lord Mosh pointing at Trista with both hands.

Ducking his head, Alex charged through the crowd. He jumped over the downed, evaded anyone bigger than him, and plowed through anyone else. He ran past Lord Mosh and circled back until he was directly behind the villain.

Alex remembered Sarge’s words: “Hitting from behind is a sissy move, but if you gotta do it, hit hard!” He took the nullifier off and pounced. The killing rage filled him until he slammed the nullifier on Lord Mosh’s head. Before Lord Mosh could get it off Alex kicked the back of his ankles to take him down.

Alex handcuffed Lord Mosh.

The villain yelled, “No! Not yet! I didn’t finish them off!”

The rioters around Alex ceased. A ripple of peace took the aggression out of them.

But down the block the rioters were more vicious than ever. They rocked the police car Trista stood on.

Trista fell into the crowd.

Alex abandoned Lord Mosh and ran through the dazed crowd of former rioters. He ran faster than the peaceful sensation, throwing into the ones who were still berserk. In the midst of the flailing arms and feet he saw a girl in a blue sweatshirt in a fetal position on the ground.

Without hesitation Alex dove for the blue sweatshirt. He threw himself over her body and wrapped his hands around her head, withstanding kicks and punches to protect her. She struggled furiously.

Alex put his mouth to her ear and said, “It’s me. I’ll protect you.”

Dozens of feet trampled Alex before the rioters calmed down. The girl beneath him struggled. All the shouts slowly turned into a deep melody.

Alex slowly lifted his head. Trista stood in front of him. To the left and right the rioters who were beating Alex now held hands and sang Kumbaya.

It took Alex a while to realize that if Trista was in front of him, she couldn’t be under him. He got up quickly. It was a girl in a blue sweatshirt with black hair but with a very different face than Trista’s.

“Get off me, you pervert!” She slapped Alex and ran away.

Trista extended a hand. “You look hurt.”

A cut above Alex’s eye bled. His arms and legs throbbed from the assault.

Alex tried to get to his feet without taking her hand but stumbled. He took Trista’s hand to stand.

After wiping away the blood over his eye he said, “Are you okay?”

She nodded.

Alex realized he made eye contact with her, but he didn’t feel the tingling sensation under his skull.

“Why did you dive into the crowd?” asked Trista.

“I thought that was you.”

“Really? Our shirts aren’t even the same shade of blue.”

“This is why we wear costumes. Heroes and villains need to be able to tell each other apart from civilians.”

“What happened to Lord Mosh?”

“Ah, shit!”

Alex spun around. He was about to run when he saw the Young Sentinels manhandle the Lord Mosh, who was still wearing handcuffs and a psychic nullifier. Stardancer, a lithe blonde in a sparkling leotard and tights, strutted and shouted, “We got him! The Young Sentinels saved the day!”

Trista pointed. “You took him down, but they’re taking the credit.”

“The city is safe. That’s all the credit I need.”

“Earlier today you told Jenny she was too modest.”

“I work for the government. No one appreciates what I do. When was the last time you saw a news story about the government doing something right?”

A streak of gold briefly surrounded Alex. It ended with Goldstreak coming to a stop.

“I put my last band-aid on the cut,” he said through heavy breaths.

“Thanks. How’s the rest of the team?”

“Not a scratch. They’re still at Thirty-Forth Street.”

“Go join them. Trista and I will catch up.”

As they walked Trista said, “So you abandoned a villain and fought through a riot to save me?”