Counterparts

by Lucas Flint

  “I d-don’t know what that was a-all about, kid, but it won’t help you beat me,” said Rime. “A-As I said, anyone who gets in my way will die.”

  Stinger smirked. “You really don’t know what my powers can do, do you?”

  Rime looked confused for a moment, but then his face twisted with pain and his body became as rigid as a tree. He then fell over onto his side on the snow-covered sand; his eyes still moved, but the rest of his body was finally paralyzed by Stinger’s venom. Even so, Stinger could clearly see the hatred in Rime’s eyes, which made him thankful that Rime could not currently hurt him.

  Suddenly, Black Blur appeared by Rime’s side. He looked down at the paralyzed superhuman with clear disgust before glancing at Stinger and saying, in an offhand way, “Nice job, Stinger. You neutralized the threat.”

  “Uh—” said Stinger, but Black Blur continued to speak.

  “I will call for some agents to be sent down here to transport Rime to the Hero Island Jail,” Black Blur continued. “As for you and your teammates, you should go to the Hero Island Hospital to have your wounds inspected and healed.”

  Stinger nodded in agreement, but he was too tired to get up just yet. Besides, he was wondering why Rime had appeared out of nowhere and attacked them like that or what Rime meant when he said that he had ‘no choice’ in the matter.

  Something tells me there is more going on here than meets the eye, Stinger thought. As always, though I don’t know how I’m going to explain to Talon what happened here. Maybe Valerie will fill her in on Rime’s attack by the time she gets back.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Talon stood in the elevator taking her to her Mom’s office, her arms crossed in front of her, tapping her foot impatiently. Talon never liked elevators all that much; they were always much slower than taking the stairs and the fact that they were always enclosed spaces made her feel like she was trapped in a metal box with no way to escape. At the same time, however, Talon also didn’t relish the thought of climbing hundred of stories’ worth of stairs to get to her Mom’s office at the top of this skyscraper, so she decided to take the elevator this time.

  Talon could not help but look at herself in the reflection of the elevator doors. She was not wearing her costume today; instead, she wore a white blouse with tight jeans that showed off her legs very well and were quite stylish. Her blonde hair was in a ponytail, as it often was, and her lips were a bright red from the lipstick she’d applied before leaving Hero Island earlier, with a small red purse hanging off her right shoulder. The only hint to her real identity as Talon was the suit-up watch on her right wrist, but it so closely resembled an ordinary smart watch that most people wouldn’t see anything suspicious about it. People still turned their heads when she was walking through the streets of New York City earlier, but it wasn’t because they suspected she was a superhero in disguise.

  But Talon was used to getting attention like that, especially from men. She had inherited her Mom’s good looks, which made it rather easy for her to get the attention of practically any man she wanted. Of course, it also meant she had to deal with the occasional creeper who either didn’t know or, worse, didn’t care that she was seventeen, but Talon’s claws ensured that any man who tried to take advantage of her would regret it.

  I wonder how Mom is doing, Talon thought, looking up at the display above the elevator doors, which showed each floor number flash by every second. She’s been so lonely since Dad’s death, but I don’t think that’s why she sent me that email last week asking me to come visit her.

  One week ago, after Talon and the Young Neos had returned from Arizona, Talon had received an email from Mom asking her to visit her. It had been almost a year since Talon had last visited Mom, and in fact Talon had been thinking about dropping by for a visit anyway. But the email had been worded rather strangely; there were more spelling mistakes than usual and Mom’s tone—usually cheerful and rambling—had been tense and tight. That was how Talon knew that something had happened that had Mom afraid; perhaps her life was even in danger.

  But Talon did not ask about that directly when she replied to the email. She had just said that she would be happy to come and had told Mom when she was going to come over. She had expected Mom to take a day or two to get back to responding, since Mom didn’t spend a whole lot of time in her email, but Mom’s response came not ten minutes later, a short, terse ‘OK, love you and can’t wait to see you.’ Again, that had alarmed Talon, because if Mom responded so quickly, then she had probably been sitting in front of her computer or looking at her phone constantly for Talon’s response. That meant that Mom’s situation was likely urgent; it might even require the aid of the other Young Neos, too.

  But not yet, Talon thought. I want to talk to Mom first and find out what has gotten her so frightened before I do anything. I wonder if it has anything to do with the business.

  Mom was the founder and CEO of McCullough Fashions, a gigantic fashion corporation that sold clothes all over the world. It was a profitable business, privately owned by Mom, which meant that she did not have any shareholders to answer to or anything like that. Talon had grown up sitting in business meetings with Mom; indeed, some of Talon’s earliest memories were of seeing Mom going through clothing design after clothing design in order to pick out the one she thought would sell best. It was probably where Talon’s own sense of fashion came from; it helped that Mom would occasionally let Talon pick out a design or give her opinion on a design Mom had already picked out.

  I hope the business isn’t running into any financial issues, Talon thought. It shouldn’t, since Mom is so good with money, but that could be why she is so tense. Mom’s never handled financial stress well.

  All of a sudden, Talon’s thoughts were interrupted by a tiny ding as the elevator came to a stop. The doors slid open, allowing Talon to step out of the elevator and into Mom’s office.

  Although it had been almost a year since Talon had been here, it looked much like she remembered it. Mom’s office took up almost the entirety of the top floor of the skyscraper, a wide, sprawling office with desks, clothing, furniture, and computers scattered here and there. Large windows to her left gave an excellent view of New York City, while to her right were doors to the bathroom and a closet where Mom usually kept extra clothing and the like.

  But Mom’s office didn’t look nearly as clean or tidy as it normally did. Large stacks of clothing stood on the desks, and they weren’t even stacks of the same articles of clothing, either. In one pile, Talon saw shirts, pants, dresses, and even underwear, all haphazardly tossed together like something you’d see at a thrift store or garage sale. The mannequins all wore mismatched clothing when they wore clothing at all, because quite a few of the mannequins had no clothing whatsoever or had ill-fitting clothing that hung loosely on their frames. The floor was covered in papers of proposed clothing designs and styles, while half-drunk cups of coffee and half-eaten donuts stood everywhere, which made the office smell somewhat like an old coffee shop. This sent off more alarms in Talon’s mind, because Mom was always a clean freak.

  And even if she wasn’t, Mom would at least have one of the building’s janitors clean this mess up, if nothing else, Talon thought. The fact that the janitors haven’t cleaned this place up means that Mom is intentionally forbidding them from helping, which is honestly the most frightening thing out of all of this.

  “Mom?” said Talon, stepping forward and looking around uncertainly; she had no idea why, but she was speaking almost in a whisper, like she’d walked into a graveyard. “Hello? It’s me, Jennifer. I just got here.”

  There was no answer. Talon wondered if Mom was in the bathroom or something until she heard a zombie-like moan come from underneath a particularly large pile of clothing on a nearby couch. Talon noticed two small, bare feet sticking out of the clothing, feet that looked like Mom’s, but she didn’t understand what that meant until the clothing pile shifted and the shirts and dresses and skirts fell to the floor with a ra
ther loud crash.

  The fall of the clothing pile revealed a blonde-haired woman in her late thirties sitting up on the couch, a red blouse hanging off her head. Her hair was messy, with split ends everywhere, while her blue eyes were haggard and had bags under them like she hadn’t gotten enough sleep in a while. The woman also wore a plain, boring gray t-shirt and jeans, which made her look even less stylish than before. And she did not seem to be wearing any makeup, either, which was an alarming sign to Talon, because that woman always wore makeup.

  “Mom?” said Talon in alarm. “Is that you?”

  Mom blinked several times and yawned. “Jennifer? Why, what are you doing here so early in the morning?”

  “It’s nearly lunchtime,” said Talon. “And I’m here because you emailed me an invitation earlier, remember?”

  Mom stared at Talon uncomprehendingly for several seconds, during which Talon noticed an empty bottle of beer lying on the floor underneath the couch. “Oh. Right. I almost forgot. Here, let me get up and put on something nicer than this trash I’m currently wearing.”

  Mom tried to stand, but she was so tipsy that she just ended up falling back onto the couch. Mom sank into the couch, looking like she wanted to go back to sleep. “Well, looks like I’m not going anywhere today. Care to join me, Jennifer?”

  “Mom, what is the matter with you?” said Talon, walking toward Mom, glancing down every now and then to make sure that she didn’t trip over any fallen articles of clothing or mannequins. “And how long were you sleeping under that pile of clothing? All night?”

  “I don’t know,” said Mom with a shrug. “Maybe I’ve been asleep for a couple of days. I’ll have to ask Alice. She’ll know.”

  Alice was Mom’s secretary, who Talon had seen in the building’s lobby earlier. Alice had seemed as cheerful as ever, even giving Talon a hug when she entered the building, but she had not mentioned anything about what was wrong with Mom. Either Alice was just as ignorant about what had happened to Mom as Talon was or she had known but chose not to tell Talon. Both options left Talon feeling disturbed just the same.

  All of a sudden, Talon heard the muted sound of a phone ringing. It sounded like it was coming from underneath one of the nearby piles of clothing, which Mom quickly dug through until she found her small pink smartphone underneath a pair of torn jeans. She picked up the phone, held it against her ear, and said, “Yes, Alice? What is it?”

  The phone’s speaker must have been on, because Talon heard Alice say, “Mr. Adams is on the other line and he wants to speak with you about your will.”

  Mom’s will? Talon thought in alarm. What does that mean?

  “Tell him I’m busy and to call back later,” said Mom. She rubbed her forehead like she was suffering from a bad headache. “I’m not taking any calls at the moment.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” said Alice, and then she hung up.

  “Mom, are you writing your will?” said Talon as Mom dropped her phone onto the couch seat next to her.

  “Hmm?” said Mom, as if she had forgotten that Talon was there. “Oh, it’s nothing to be concerned about. It’s never too early to start writing your will. That’s what Mr. Adams always tells me. He’s such a nice man and—”

  “Mom, I can tell that something has you rattled,” said Talon. “The email, the fact that your office is a mess, the alcohol—”

  “I don’t have an alcohol problem,” said Mom abruptly.

  Talon looked at Mom carefully. “I didn’t say you did. I was just pointing out that you usually don’t drink alcohol at all, much less enough to knock you out until noon. Something is wrong, but I don’t know what because you haven’t told me.”

  Mom began tugging at the simple golden bracelet around her left wrist, an unconscious habit that Mom always indulged in whenever she was anxious. “You’re right. I’m in a huge, gigantic mess and I don’t know how to get out of it.” She sniffed. “And I need your help; at least, I need someone to talk to, because after your father died, I don’t really have anyone else to talk to.”

  Talon nodded in understanding. Although Mom had managed to handle Dad’s death with surprising strength, the fact was that their family had never been the same since he died ten years ago. Both Talon and Mom were still on good terms with each other, but Dad’s absence was always felt, especially whenever they got together like this.

  “Then tell me what the problem is,” said Talon. “I don’t know if I will be able to help, but it’s better than keeping it all inside yourself or drinking yourself unconscious.”

  “All right,” said Mom. She took in a deep breath, as if to steady herself, and then said, “I need you to succeed me as the CEO of McCullough Fashions.”

  Talon’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wait, are you resigning from your position already?”

  “More like entering early retirement,” said Mom, rubbing the back of her head. She sighed. “The stress of the business has hit me hard. I simply can’t handle it anymore. I even collapsed a couple of weeks ago—”

  “Collapsed?” said Talon. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because I didn’t want you to worry,” said Mom. “I know you have your own life, saving the world with other superheroes and everything. I didn’t want to give you yet another thing to worry about.”

  “Mom, you know how much I love you,” said Talon. “You should never feel afraid to call me up when something like that happens to you.”

  “I know, I know,” said Mom. “But at least I haven’t collapsed since then. Even so, my blood pressure is just so high. It’s always been rather high, I suppose, but my doctor says it is too high and that I need to take a break. That’s why I am going to retire and have you succeed me. That was always the plan anyway, even after you joined the Young Neos.”

  “You mean your plans didn’t change at all when I became a Young Neo?” said Talon.

  “Of course not,” said Mom. “You didn’t intend to be a superhero forever, did you?”

  Talon could not reply to that, because she had never given the matter much thought. She had supposed that Mom would simply sell the business to someone else when she retired or perhaps would pass it on to one of the employees working under her. After all, Talon could not be a full-time superhero and a full-time CEO of a multi-million dollar business at the same time, so Talon had assumed that she would not have to face this choice.

  As a result, Talon had not thought about whether she wanted to be a superhero forever. Talon had just assumed that she would do it for as long as she lived; as far as she knew, most superheroes didn’t retire voluntarily. Some superheroes voluntarily chose to retire, such as Bolt’s late father Genius, but Genius had been unusual in that regard and in any case Talon could not think of any other superhero who had retired like that.

  “This all seems so … so sudden,” said Talon, brushing aside a few strands of hair from her face. “I thought you were going to work until you reached sixty at least.”

  “That was the original plan, but sometimes our best laid plans have to be tossed out,” said Mom with a shrug. “I didn’t make this decision lightly, by the way. I’ve had six months to consider it and it seems like the best choice for me and for the business. I can see no other way forward other than to retire and let you take the helm.”

  Talon gestured at the messy office. “Is that why your office is in such terrible shape? Has the stress really been that bad?”

  “It’s actually been even worse, if you can believe it,” said Mom with a shudder. “I’m not an old lady by any means, but neither am I young anymore. Your father always used to warn me about working too hard when he was alive, but I never really listened to him. Guess I was always too headstrong.”

  Talon rubbed her forehead. “Are you absolutely sure that you want me to succeed you? Don’t I have any choice in this matter at all? I mean, I thought that after I joined the Young Neos, that I was not going to be your successor.”

  “I never changed the will, Jennifer,” said Mom. “I a
lways intended for you to succeed me, just not so soon. But I think you can handle it. You’re nearly eighteen, after all, and you know as much about this business as I do, if not more so. It isn’t a question of whether you’re qualified for it or not, because I know you are, even more so than a lot of women twice your age.”

  Talon rubbed the back of her neck. “Even so, I’m not sure I can do it. I mean, I’m a member of the Young Neos, which means I have certain responsibilities to my team that I can’t simply drop.”

  “Are your obligations to your team more important than your obligations to your own mother?” said Mom. “It sounds to me like you are implying that they are.”

  “No, I—” Talon shook her head. “The point is that this is all so abrupt and I don’t know if I am ready for it yet. It’s not that I don’t want to do it, it’s just that I thought I’d have more time to spend as a superhero before I had to quit and settle down.”

  “You know, superheroics is not a business, nor is it any way to make a living,” Mom pointed out. “It’s also incredibly dangerous. You fight all kinds of dangerous criminals and supervillains every day and there’s no guarantee that you’ll get a chance to come back home at the end of the day. There’s also the possibility that you could end up getting disabled, perhaps spending the rest of your life in a wheelchair or in a bed from a young age.”

  “How do you know that might happen to me?” said Talon. “What if I avoid it?”

  “Because I remember what it was like when your father was alive,” said Mom. “He was a superhero himself, after all. Even before he was killed by that villain, he always told me about all of the gruesome things that happened to other superheroes he knew, like the time that one friend of his got his skull crushed in by one of those ugly Pokacu aliens during the first invasion. And I also remember all of the injuries he sustained during his career, including some very serious ones.”

  Talon nodded. Dad had been a superhero known as Silver Wind, a name he had picked up due to his ability to generate wind powerful enough to cut rock. He had died about ten years ago at the hands of a supervillain known as Electrica; in fact, Talon still remembered the funeral well, even though it had been so long ago. It no longer invoked as powerful feelings in her as it used to, but even now, a decade later, Talon felt a faint stirring in her heart whenever she remembered how Dad’s corpse looked in his coffin.