The Prospects (7 page)

“What happened to Trista?”

Professor Photon covered his visor. “Just go.”

Alex sat in the hospital’s hallway.

He read the chart again, but got to the same point he couldn’t get past before.

The words were too painful. They were his own quoted words, he gave the report. He described what he saw without thinking about it.

If he read the description again, he’d have to relive what he saw.

He closed his eyes for so long he didn’t see a woman with short blond hair sit beside him.

“Nice scarf,” she said.

Alex blinked a few times before he recognized the woman. He rarely saw not wearing a white-and-gold bodysuit and calling herself Lady Amazing. “Charlene. Good to see you.”

“I’d give you a hug if I wasn’t afraid that your head would fall off.”

Alex tapped the bandages around his neck. “Only bruises and abrasions. No veins hurt.”

“How are my old students?”

“Candilyn got discharged this morning with a broken and lots of scabs in the shape of a footprint on her face.”

“How did that happen?”

“She tackled an Iron Pirate.”

“I told her a hundred times not to get in close, but she never listens. And I don’t think she’s going to learn, either. What about the rest?”

“Vijay didn’t come to the hospital. He got smacked. That’s it.”

“Good for him.”

“Good he got smacked or good he didn’t have to come in?”

“Both. That’s all I have to say.”

“Jenny got motor oil sprayed in her eyes. No permanent damage. She went back to Griffin Tower on her own. She seemed sad, but I don’t know what to do about that.”

“She works hard, but I can’t imagine her actually making a team. Not any image-conscious one, anyway.”

“We can’t all be models. I wouldn’t have gotten on a team without a full-face mask.”

“It’s not just her looks. She has no confidence. She doesn’t project the strength and poise a hero needs.”

“Well, she followed orders and got Candilyn out. Even asked about Trista. She seems like a real team player.”

“Maybe, but she’s a ranged attacker. They’re already common, and most shoot something more useful than wind. What about Deon?”

“He hid in a closet and peed himself.”

“I had my doubts about him.”

“Really? You don’t think Deon’s the best of the group?”

“Please. When we started he talked about how he wanted to run around the country helping people. But, after weeks of running, he showed no improvement. I mean, that happens sometimes. Speedsters violate the laws of physics, but they still have their limits. His are much lower than most.”

“He’s also a jerk.”

“We tried every proven technique, nothing made him run faster or for longer. I swear I saw his spirit leave his body when he saw the baseline results on his chart. He quit trying after that.”

“Sarge said he was great.”

“Maybe they made a connection. I don’t know. I wanted to find out how the Prospects were doing without me, but I don’t talk to Sarge if I don’t have to.”

“It usually ends with shouting. Which is weird, because you two fight side-by-side so well.”

“We both learned from the military how to put aside differences until after a battle.”

“Which is another thing I don’t get. You have no background in teaching or anything like that. Why did you start the Prospects?”

“Because anyone can have powers, but most people don’t have good ones. Kids like them usually end up either making a huge mess while trying to be heroes or getting suckered into helping the bad guys. I wanted to find a way for people like them to get on our side. I hoped one of them could be, I don’t know, at least worth being a sidekick to an established hero.”

“And that didn’t happen?”

“It turned out there are good reasons every other team rejected them. The only one who showed any promise was Trista.”

“Her?”

“Good psychics are hard to find. There are too many bad ones out there.”

“She was the weakest Ultra-Geniuses.”

“She underwent a full paraneurolgical scan in prison. Turns out, the parts of her brain that give her powers are growing exponentially. Within a few years she could be as powerful as the Idea Man.”

“That’s a scary thought.”

“That’s why I want to get her on our side now instead of fighting her later. How’s she doing?”

Alex handed her the chart.

Charlene skimmed the form and reached the part Alex couldn’t bring himself to read. “Let’s see, first degree burns on her left side, bite mark on shoulder, bruises on inner thighs, breasts, and buttocks, small tears in her … indications of sexual … oh. Found under broken sprinkler wearing only her sneakers and a scorched psychic nullifier. Presumed emotionally traumatized. ”

“She was trapped in there with an Iron Pirate for a long time before I got the door open. She didn’t say a word or even look at me. I wish I could come up with an explanation better than the obvious one.”

Charlene’s jaw dropped.

Alex continued. “We didn’t bother with a rape kit. It’s obvious what happened. With that nullifier on, she couldn’t defend herself. This is my fault.”

Charlene punched Alex’s arm without pulling much of her superhuman strength. “Damn right this is your fault, you idiot! Why didn’t you take the nullifier off?”

Alex rubbed his arm and was surprised to feel the bone wasn’t broken. “I don’t trust her.”

“So you took her into battle defenseless?”

“I locked her in the research lab. She would’ve been safe if Vijay didn’t open the door.”

“Don’t blame Vijay. You kept the nullifier on, you made the mistake.”

“I only met the Prospects right before the attack. I didn’t know any of them except Trista.”

“And you held a grudge because of what she did two years ago?”

“I haven’t seen her since then.”

“Alex, understand this. The Mind Dame who hurt you isn’t the same person as Trista is now.”

Alex shook his head. “Sarge was right. She really played you for a sucker.”

“Oh, Sarge says it, so it’s true, right?”

“Well, in this case …”

“Didn’t you read her bio? She had no criminal record before becoming an Ultra-Genius. I met her parents. They told me she went to church every Sunday. I saw a video of her valedictorian speech. She was so socially anxious she stammered. She disappeared while shopping for college supplies with her mother and brother. They reported her as a missing person. A month later she’s a supervillainess in a fishnet catsuit.”

“I guess college isn’t for everyone.”

“You don’t get it. The Idea Man is a manipulator. He traveled the nation finding people with psionic potential and making them his slaves.”

“And she made me her slave.”

“Not of her own free will. She’s a natural sweetheart. An evil asshole remade her in his image. She wants to be good again.”

Alex looked away. “What if you’re wrong?”

“I could be, but it’s not because I didn’t do my research.”

“There’s nothing about that in her file. Just her criminal record.”

“What do you mean? Give me the tablet.”

Charlene opened the tablet and flipped to Trista’s file. “Two escape attempts, constantly skipped individual training … she never skipped sessions with me or tried to escape. Where are my notes?” Charlene’s fingers flicked across the tablet.

“I didn’t know you took notes.”

Charlene handed the tablet back. “Sarge erased everything I wrote about the students, even Vijay’s shower incident. Why did he do that?”

“He’s Sarge. He does what he does and answers to no one but Jim. Heck, Jim removed him from the Prospects after he made Trista break down.”

“Poor Trista. First the Idea Man, then prison, then Sarge, now this. Alex, please tell me you got the bastard who hurt her.”

“I think the Iron Pirate tried to shoot her with the helio-blaster. But you know how that thing looks like it’s backwards, how the exhaust comes out of those big vents and the heatwave comes out of that tiny cone. He fried himself. Trista got hit with exhaust. It set off the sprinkler. There wasn’t much left of her clothes.”

“Good. At least he wouldn’t be able to do that again. Can I see her?”

Alex pointed to the room down the hall. “The doctor cut off her psychic nullifier during the examination. I’m monitoring the room until a replacement arrives. There’s a nurse in there now, a short woman wearing the ugliest scrub shirt I’ve ever seen. I mean, it’s patterned with balloons. Who’d wear something like that?”

“I’m not one to criticize how others dress. I cringe when I look at the skimpy outfit I wore when I started being a superheroine. It was barely a swimsuit.”

“When I went through MAB training, posters of you in that old suit were in every barrack.”

“I was young. I wanted to be a model. Now I want to be a role model.”

The door opened. The nurse in the balloon scrub shirt walked out with her back to Alex.

“Excuse me,” said Charlene. “Can we see Trista?”

The nurse ran down the hall without a word.

“That’s rude,” said Alex.

“I’m going in.”

“Be careful. She doesn’t have a …”

Charlene opened the door. “If you’re scared, don’t follow.”

Alex reflexively reached for his holster. He touched nothing. Then he remembered he left his gun with the security personnel at the front desk.

Charlene yelled, “Alex!”

Alex went to the edge of the door. “One of us has to stay out of her sight.”

“She’s not in here.”

Alex ran into the room. There was a woman sleeping on the bed, covered to her neck with sheets but it wasn’t Trista. It was the nurse who was wearing the balloon scrubs.

“She escaped.” Alex pulled out his smartphone. “Agent O’Farrell calling in. We have a wandering mind, repeat, a wandering mind, in the vicinity of New York-Presbyterian Hospital.”

“Wandering mind?” asked Charlene.

“Code for rogue psychic.”

Charlene ran down the hall.

“Where are you going?” said Alex.

“To bring her back.”

“But she doesn’t have a nullifier!” shouted Alex as the stairway door slammed behind Charlene.

Alex caught up with Charlene at the hospital’s front entrance.

“There.” Charlene pointed down the street. The balloon scrubs disappeared around a corner.

Alex called in the direction and followed Charlene. They ran three blocks until they turned down a vacant street.

“Where did she go?” said Charlene.

“Focus on places with public access. Restaurants, businesses, anything like that.”

Charlene pointed to a Catholic church’s ornate wooden doors. “I took her there on Sundays.”

Alex called in the address. “Bring reinforcements. Our wandering mind may be raising an army.”

“What?” said Charlene.

“She’s capable of psychic control. If she’s in there, all it would take is eye contact to turn each congregant into a combatant.”

“How long until the other agents arrive?”

Alex called through his smartphone. “What’s your ETA?”

The smartphone chirped. “Two minutes, thirty seconds.”

“That’s more than I need.” Charlene opened the church door. Alex tried to stop her. She pushed him with one arm.

Alex stood on the church step for two minutes and thirty seconds before the church doors opened. Charlene led Trista out.

Three black vans screeched to a stop in the narrow street. Metahuman Affairs Bureau agents in body armor poured out. They took positions behind and raised their rifles.

Trista dropped to her knees and put her hands behind her head.

“What are you doing?” asked Charlene.

“I want to go back to prison,” said Trista.

Alex’s smartphone chirped. “Agent O’Farrell, are we clear to advance?”

Alex responded, “Do the arresting agents have lead-lined helmets and psychic defense training?”

“Affirmative.”

“Then move in.”

The agents slowly moved forward.

Charlene said, “Trista, why?”

“Worse things happened to me outside than inside.”

“What about your goal?”

“I won't make it. I don’t deserve it.”

“I know it’s been hard, but … I’m not going to let this happen.” Charlene grabbed Alex’s shirt. “Call them off.”

“Like hell. She wants to go to jail, I want her in jail.”

The agents were at the foot of the church steps.

Charlene pulled Alex close. “Of all the good guys I know, I thought you were the best. But if you let this happen, we’re through as friends. Please, stop them!”

“It’s not my choice. This is her last escape attempt.”