Bones of the Past (Villains' Code Book 2)

by Drew Hayes

  “What’s the ice cream equivalent of pansexual? Rainbow sherbet? I’m going to say rainbow sherbet,” Chloe decided. “I more meant I’m not into the huge look. My preference leans toward people closer to my size.”

  Though she didn’t say it, on that point, Tori and Chloe were agreed.

  Ellie, however, merely shook her head. “No accounting for taste, I suppose. At least this gal is with me.” Ellie held up a hand for Beverly to high-five, which she did, after noticing it a few seconds too late to not get chuckled at. Clearly, Beverly had no such qualms about the muscle-bound physique.

  It wasn’t long past then that the heat drove more of them into the water, forcing dips to cool down. Although she was unaffected, Tori did the same, careful not to draw too much attention to herself, even for something as simple as high heat tolerance. This game they were playing was dangerous. The closer they got to the New Science Sentries, the worse the blowback could be if they learned the truth. But the rooftop pool was a shared space, and ultimately, Tori was finding she didn’t mind the quartet entirely. Outside of the costumes, they made decent company. When not hallway drinking, that was.

  By the time Kyle finally approached Tori on his own, waiting until the rest of the group was distracted messing with a portable charcoal grill, she was already waiting for him. His nervous, shamed glances had been coming her way all day, and while they’d spoken, it had only been in brief, passing snippets of casual conversation. She’d seen him gathering his courage, and even gone off on her own to present an opportunity. Better to get this done with, especially while everyone was in a good mood.

  “Hey,” he greeted her, as if they hadn’t just spent several hours together. “I, uh, wanted to talk to you about last night.”

  “Good news: you didn’t take a swing, use a slur, or try to grab my ass, so we’re fine.”

  That stunned him for a moment; Kyle moved in silence as he took a seat on the unoccupied lounger next to Tori, resting in the shade of Chloe’s curiously colored umbrella. “Nice to know, I guess, but I didn’t think I’d have done any of that in the first place.”

  “Makes you a nicer drunk than most people I’ve known,” Tori shot back. “Look, I know you feel bad, but really, why? You got weekday drunk? Big whoop, we both know you cleared a hangover within the first ten minutes of waking up, so there’s no long-term consequences. All you did with me was apologize, so nothing bad there. Unless you took a piss in this pool last night and are only just now revealing it, I truly don’t get where all this guilt is coming from.”

  “But I’m a superhero,” Kyle protested.

  “So the fuck what? It’s a job. It doesn’t define who you are, or what you can be. Hell, if you want to get technical, you’re only a superhero when you’re in costume, and last night, I saw Kyle getting hammered. No Tachyonic in sight. The reason capes wear masks is so they can take them off and be normal people when the day is done.”

  In truth, this was some of her own villain education being repurposed and repackaged, but the point was a sound one. Ivan had helped her build multiple identities for a reason, beyond just secrecy. Different feelings, different ambitions, they might not all fit the same side of her. Some things were for Tori, others for Hephaestus. The villain in her, for example, realized how much work time she was wasting sitting in the sun, comforting a cape, but she made no attempt to leave. The human part of Tori deserved her downtime.

  “When I go running in costume, people cheer. They scream my name, try to slap my hand if I’m passing close. They’re already looking up to me. I saw kids wearing Tachyonic shirts yesterday, but it feels like I’ve just been fucking up nonstop since we got here. Last night was one more log on the guilt fire, I guess.”

  “How many people has Tachyonic saved?” Tori asked. “Since arriving in Ridge City, I mean.”

  Kyle took a moment, doing some mental calculations and perhaps a few ticks on his hands. “Rough estimates, about seventy-five, though I’m rounding a little on how many people were on the bus I stopped a few days ago.”

  “Sounds to me like you’re doing fine. It’s not your job to inspire, or be a perfect symbol, or some flawless beacon of justice. Showing up when people truly need you is a superhero’s only real job. Be there, help people, turn certain deaths into near-misses. Give people their futures back.”

  “And don’t forget the receipt in the bag.” The smirk on Kyle’s mouth was tentative, yet distinct.

  Despite herself, Tori laughed. “Look at that, you’re already learning. A proper rescue protects them from all threats, media as well as meta. Cat’s out of that bag now, though.”

  As peace settled between them, Tori thought their conversation had reached its end. Based on the bursts of flame shooting up from the grill, dinner would go from raw to burned in rapid succession, so they’d likely be eating soon. She was expecting Kyle to get up and mosey over. Instead, he settled deeper into the lounger.

  “You know, for someone who acts like she doesn’t give a crap about superheroes, you’ve sure given a lot of thought to their purpose.”

  “Not especially. But I’ve seen what happens when there is no last-minute miracle… no cape swinging in with a power to fix everything, no sudden shift in a seemingly inevitable fate.” Warm air be damned, Tori could still feel the chill from that damned hospital room. “You only have to witness that once to know the other version is better.”

  A glance at Kyle showed her a man conflicted. He clearly wanted to know more, but was also perceptive enough to notice that this wasn’t some hypothetical situation she was describing. After a brief struggle, he formed his next words carefully. “Tori, I’m still getting to know you, and I feel like half our chats end with me saying the wrong thing, so I’m just going to be plain. If that was cryptic because you don’t want to talk specifics, we can end it there. If it was to get me to dig deeper, I’m happy to listen.”

  “Asking was the right call. It’s definitely the former,” Tori confirmed. “But by this point, I know you have it in a file somewhere, so let’s just get this done. My parents died due to an accident at a lab that made them violently, briefly ill. Their only hope was someone with meta-tech or powers, none of which came through. And that is the maximum I want to talk about it.”

  Another pause in the conversation, this one shorter than the last.

  “My parents gave me away,” he told her. “My mother was part of a prenatal setlium exposure test to see if powers could be reliably created by introducing it early. The answer was no, it didn’t work reliably, but some of us did beat the odds. When she produced a meta-human baby, Professor Quantum made an offer. That was it. I don’t even know their names. He says he destroyed all records for security, to make sure no one could use our biological parents as leverage. I don’t want to talk about it, either, mind you. This isn’t something I go around tossing out as a fun fact in interviews. But it only felt right to square us up.”

  That was not the origin story Tori had expected; however, she was hardly blown away. After hearing Ike’s story, she was getting a sense of Professor Quantum, and it didn’t paint the kindest of pictures. The positive work he did for the world was undeniable. It was his methods that gave Tori pause.

  If these were the projects people talked about, what kind of dealings went on behind the scenes?

  Luckily, Professor Quantum was an Ivan-level issue, the sort of thing she didn’t have to bother herself with. No, today, Tori’s primary concern was unwinding and having fun with her friends. Along with the New Science Sentries, apparently, which didn’t annoy her as much as it would have just days prior.

  “Thanks,” Tori said, climbing up from her chair. “That’s probably enough time in the sad-sack corner. Burgers and beers?”

  In a blur, he was at her side, eyes already trained on the smoking grill. “You think any of those will be edible?”

  “What the hell, just this once, I’ll try being an optimist.”

  Chapter 42

  After the st
range snow that blanketed Ridge City on Thursday, the city got too hot for crime. That was Donald’s working theory, anyway. It explained why they’d had such a light Friday, and apparently, the AHC expected so few issues on Saturday that the entire class of rookies was being gathered together for a training exercise.

  Making his way down the halls, he tried not to fiddle with his Cyber Geek costume. Despite having worn it for months now, being crammed in around so many others in similar outfits had him nervous. Something was up, and he had a hunch it was more than just training. From the tense way Ren was moving at his side, the feeling was mutual. Irene had a steely gaze as well, and even Lucy seemed to be aware things weren’t as they seemed.

  Every rookie member of the AHC—those from the last confluence, as well as some who’d picked up powers haphazardly in between—gathered together in a vast hall clearly meant for larger audiences. Donald even noticed the New Science Sentries not too far off; apparently, this really was an all-hands-on-deck kind of meeting. Waiting there, at the center of the hall, glowing as expected, stood Lodestar. She hovered a few feet above a raised stage, making herself impossible to miss.

  “File on in, everyone. We’ve got a lot to get through and never enough time.” Motioning, Lodestar directed them to move to the front so as to open the entrances for those still streaming in. By the time all of them were there (somewhere around ninety aspiring superheroes), Lodestar had drifted back down to the stage’s level.

  “Thank you all for coming today,” she said, as though the meeting hadn’t been listed as mandatory on all of their schedules. “I’m sure you’re wondering what this is about, and I’m not much of one for needless suspense. To put it bluntly, some of you have grown beyond the roles you are filling. With the betrayal of Apollo, our training system was severely weakened, yet you have continued to flourish even as our efforts have gone toward larger threats. We have decided to recognize that effort by offering those who wish to take on harder, more dangerous threats the opportunity to do so.”

  At his side, Donald could hear Ren’s tail flex at the words. While he’d never publicly complained, Donald knew his friend was craving a greater challenge. After starting off with fighting villains and a gang riot, dealing with muggers just didn’t offer the same ways to test one’s self.

  “However, that does not mean we can simply hand you harder tasks. Because the truth is, while some of you are ready to move on, some of you need more time to hone your fundamentals. I confess, right now, I don’t even know with certainty which of you is which. I’ve been too absent from your training to know what you can do, really do, when everything is on the line. That is my failing, and it is one I intend to remedy today.”

  Stepping forward, Lodestar walked closer to the stage’s edge, one foot actually going over and planting itself in the air like it was solid ground. “There is no shame in continuing to train your fundamentals, either. Some of the most famous heroes you know spent years doing these tasks, and a lone person being attacked in the night would be just as happy to see you as the person strapped to an out-of-control bus full of dynamite. The threat doesn’t matter. The person you’re helping does. That said, if there are some of you who feel as though your talents could be better utilized by taking on greater threats, then I can certainly respect the sentiment. Anyone who wants to find out if they’re ready, come see me in five minutes. As a team, as a person, talk it over and make your choice. Just know that whatever formation you choose is the one you’ll be given assignments as moving forward.”

  Her feet didn’t even move this time. She just slid back, floating to the rear of the stage as conversation burst forth from the barely contained crowd.

  Donald took his time turning to face Ren, keenly aware of the enthusiasm that would waiting for him. To his surprise, Ren was scratching under his cheek whiskers, a sign that he was lost in thought.

  “I think we should do it.” In a twist, Irene was the one who spoke up first. “It’s been weeks since the street-level crime was an actual threat. There has to be a better way to use us.”

  “For the record, I agree,” Ren said. “But it has to be mentioned that taking on more dangerous jobs also means playing against potentially serious threats. We all saw Fornax beat the living shit out of Apollo, who was way stronger than any of us. If we do this, we have to be okay with going up against someone substantially outside our weight class.”

  “That could happen just as easily doing street work. There are always new metas to discover. I’m on Team Go-For-It. Even if we don’t pass, we’ll see areas where we can improve.” Lucy had been Donald’s final expected holdout. With her voicing support, the will of the team was clear.

  He certainly wouldn’t be the one to stand in the way. “Okay then, I guess we’re going for it. Whatever ‘it’ is, in this case.”

  They didn’t have to wait long. Making their way to the front of the hall, they joined the place where many of their peers were already waiting for Lodestar. A quick scan of the room showed that while a large percentage of the rookies were taking the challenge, there was also a sizable group hanging back. Some were new; others had joined after the same confluence as Donald and the majority of his team. There didn’t seem to be much rhyme or reason to the sorting; people were making the choice based on where they were in their own journey. It didn’t escape his notice that the New Science Sentries were, of course, among the first ones to accept the challenge.

  “Everyone who wants to skip this, thank you for coming. Enjoy a Saturday off to spend however you like. The rest of you, follow me.”

  Chatter rose up on the wind of whispers as they trekked out of the room, down a hall, and into what looked like an airline hangar. Set before them was a massive metal rectangle, easily the size of a small airplane cabin, and with a single door open at the front.

  “File on in and buckle up. Seriously, you do not want to ignore me on that. Anyone who falls outside of standard, human-sized parameters, there are some more varied restraint options toward the rear.” Lodestar waved them forward, and they complied.

  The interior felt sort of like a commuter bus, if every seat was ultra-secure and triple reinforced into the framing. Donald followed Ren to the rear, where different styles and sizes of seat options began to pop up. After a moment or two of searching, Ren found one that was large enough for his shoulders and also had a slot in the back where he could fit his tail. Donald, Irene, and Lucy all took spots nearby.

  In only a few minutes, they’d all been packed into the strange box, with ample seating left over. Through the door, they could make out Lodestar’s form as she gave them one final warning.

  “Okay, everyone, get ready for some fun. Make sure you are locked and stowed, because once I start moving, you’re going to feel it, even with all the dampening tech Professor Quantum put into this thing. All buckled in? Hope you peed already, because there are no pit-stops on this road trip.”

  The door slammed and sealed, leaving them with only the artificial lighting that clicked on moments later. At Donald’s side, Lucy leaned over and whispered.

  “She’s not... is she going to carry us? Is that what she meant?”

  Before Donald could answer, they felt the box shift, as if it had been pulled upward forcefully.

  “I think you might be right.” With a gulp and a wish that he had actually used the bathroom before they left, Donald tightened his grip on his seat. Being something of a superhero nerd meant that he had at least a passing familiarity with most of the major capes’ core abilities, so he knew that Lodestar could go fast. Even assuming she wouldn’t use her full speed, they were in for a hell of a ride.

  After a Thursday spent with friends around a pool and a Friday composed largely of brainstorming coupled with catching up on life—such as touching base with Vendallia’s offices—Tori was ready to use her weekend to get a jump on her new project. Armed with a few mugs of coffee in her veins and some of Chloe’s breakfast bubbling in her stomach, Tori made her way down to the
concrete parking units serving as her lab.

  It was a mess, as always. To an outsider stepping in, it would seem impossible that Tori could find anything in this chaos. While, if pressed, she would protest that there was a system, that was also part of why Tori didn’t generally allow others into her workspace. Less explaining to do, in general.

  Her first task was unpacking the Hephaestus armor. Beverly had done a good job throwing everything into a bag, but Tori took her time cataloguing every component as it was removed. She still needed to give the updated flight functions a proper test—one more task for the ever-growing list before her. Only when Tori was fully satisfied that her suit was complete and undamaged did she move her attention to an empty table.

  Style would come later, with input from someone with Beverly’s skills. Today was about function. The units would have to be small, portable, easy to carry and conceal. Capable of dealing with single targets as well as groups. Too much to pack into one unit—there would have to be multiple options. That worked better from a business perspective, as well: more products to roll out as time ticked on. Her methodology would be the real hurdle. She couldn’t very well fill these with enhanced tech. The mere fact that no truly advanced technology ended up on the open market spoke to some sort of limiting force, be it governmental or the AHC. It had to be low enough tech to fly under the radar, while still offering a unique function.

  Thinking back to her kidnapping, Tori let the sense of fear she’d been pushing down take hold. This was more than just her next venture; it was the way Tori chose to cope with what happened. She didn’t get better by just talking. Her solution was to ensure that no bad experience would ever get the drop on her twice. It was part of why she’d cut off human contact after losing her parents, and why the fear in her mind was spurring her creative thinking, not hindering it.

  Tori felt what it was like to be back in that moment. Uncertain of what was happening, or how to respond. What would have saved her, back then? She didn’t need to entirely beat them; even just a little distance could have made escape possible. Something distracting, then, and if it slowed them down, then that was icing on the cake. An aerosolized compound in a proper vessel could do that, assuming she found the right material. The obvious fix would be pepper spray, except that didn’t affect most metas with any sort of enhanced toughness.