by Drew Hayes
With a casual movement, Lodestar stepped back, catching Tachyonic as he pulled slightly ahead, hurling his whole body into the charging form of Agent Quantum. The two went down in a spray of limbs, hurrying to untangle themselves.
While they struggled, Lodestar dashed back over to the boulder. A moment later, Presto appeared once more, hands outstretched. “Again, when you suddenly stop screaming and cursing, that tips me off that you’ve recovered. Be less predictable.”
Into the air Presto went once more, a fresh flurry of swears spouting out of his ascending lips.
Another shot of energy rang out, this one weaker and wide. Plasmodia was trying to add pressure, but wasn’t sure what to do when the melee attackers fell apart. Their team was built to run like a machine; it didn’t hold up well when cogs started coming loose. Two of said cogs were back on their feet, looking a tad embarrassed about the tumble they’d taken.
“I can tell you your problem right now,” Lodestar informed them. “You attack from a position of strength.”
Tachyonic looked momentarily confused; however, Agent Quantum let the words roll right off of him, his whole mind focused on the task at hand. Single-mindedness could be a boon at times—she’d known Ivan long enough to see that prove useful—but it also limited how much one could adapt in the moment. In this case, it was a positive, as seeing his leader unbothered gave Tachyonic his own sense of assurance back. They weren’t getting better, but them fighting while shaken would hardly have improved things either.
Another team attack, though this time, they stayed more in sync, arriving in perfect unison. This tactic was shockingly close to a choreographed dance, two men filling the space of one by expertly weaving in and out of the other’s way. For a moment, it was as if Lodestar were fighting a four-armed monster, blows raining in from all directions. The trouble was, no matter how much they worked together, they were still ultimately two separate people. Agent Quantum’s fists were too slow, and Tachyonic’s were too weak. She let the attack run for several seconds before deciding she’d seen all it had to offer. A single blow to the gut sent Tachyonic staggering back, and with a burst of motion, Lodestar slipped behind Agent Quantum, knocking him off balance with a hard strike to the spine.
“You’re used to fighting people weaker than you, maybe ones on your level. When Professor Quantum tests you against harder opponents, they’re always mechanical, and not the sentient type. That means they’re limited, predictable, easy to defeat once you learn their patterns.”
A rapid series of shots from Plasmodia tore through the air, ones that Lodestar easily sidestepped, seemingly unbothered. “This might feel unfair, but understand, I’m not even using your team’s full capabilities right now. If I was hitting with Plasmodia’s stopping power, you’d both be down already. Our world isn’t balanced in how it gives out abilities. Some get the strength to shake mountains, others can turn soda into water. You cannot assume your position will always be that of the stronger fighter. This is just what it will be like to fight someone who is both fast and strong, a combination you’ll eventually find if you fight enough metas.”
Tachyonic let out a dusty snicker as he rose to his feet. “You might be right, but it’s a little rich to get that advice coming from Lodestar.”
“I wasn’t born with these powers.” That was all she managed before another blast ripped through the air. Unlike prior shots, this was closer to target, and far more dangerous. A nearby mesa got clipped, resulting in a hole bored through the rock.
Plasmodia was stepping things up... or was she? Come to think of it, Lodestar hadn’t heard much swearing for a few moments. Zipping around to the opposite side of the boulder, she was waiting when Presto appeared, crouched low and with a hand already outstretched.
“A distraction, a new angle of approach, and you didn’t even yell a catchphrase? Much better. Keep this up, and you all may just pull off a win.” She thought Presto seemed a tad less surly as she hurled him into the sky yet again, perhaps because he’d been recognized for improving. Knowing Professor Quantum, the kids probably hadn’t gotten much of that during their time under his tutelage.
No sooner was Presto gone than Tachyonic was on her. This time, he’d increased the speed of his punches, hoping to cause enough damage to slow her down, or at least have her put on the act. Since Presto was in the air, Agent Quantum was moving at mortal speeds, and Plasmodia would need time to aim, Lodestar decided this was a fine opportunity for a more personal lesson. Rather than using higher levels of strength, Lodestar dialed in her speed to precisely the same as Tachyonic’s, resulting in a world stuck in slow motion while they moved as normal.
That done, Lodestar didn’t brush aside the coming attacks. Instead, she blocked, returning a jab to Tachyonic’s unprotected ribs. Not enough to take him down: it should feel like a normal blow, meaning that it would hurt without injuring. He appeared momentarily stunned, then came in swinging again. There was some form there, he’d had training, but it was all too evident that he’d grown very used to his speed advantage.
Lodestar easily avoided the wide swing, countering with another short jab, this one directly to Tachyonic’s nose.
“Ow!” He staggered, nearly slipping into normal time, as a wave of wetness washed over his eyes.
“No matter how good you are, getting hit in the face, at least when it causes damage, is going to rock your focus. Hands up. You should be guarding. This isn’t a match where you can dodge everything.”
Slowly, Lodestar was getting a feel for this team. Agent Quantum had the right makings for a leader, but he could be a bit too set on his path to change when needed. Tachyonic was stuck in the classic super-speed trap—he’d tried to learn to do everything faster, rather than better. Plasmodia possessed easily the most stopping power but was kept on the backlines due to her supposed vulnerability, never mind the fact that she had plenty of defensive options. As for Presto, he might actually have the sharpest mind of the four. Pity he seemed intent on concealing and misusing that potential.
Sure enough, Tachyonic proved her theory by racing in once more. He was going faster this time, because of course he was. That was the Professor Quantum method for overcoming a hurdle: stronger, faster, tougher, better. Dominate, win—all that idiot crap Lodestar had been forced to dig out by the root when starting the Alliance of Heroic Champions. Had Tachyonic taken a moment to truly consider the situation, he’d have remembered that Lodestar was only ever matching his speed. Going faster changed nothing. This wasn’t a fight that could be won by adding more power.
More punches, though these were at least a tad tighter than before. Lodestar blocked the first two swings, feinted a third jab that Tachyonic fell for, and came around with a right hook to his jaw. She tried to hold back; however, moving at those speeds made it difficult to entirely pull the blow. She still sent Tachyonic stumbling back onto his butt.
With his landing, their time in the land of super-speed came to an end. Lodestar decided to reengage with the other recovering members of the team. Agent Quantum was mostly to his feet, but she could still hear Presto whistling through the air above them. Plasmodia would fire when given a chance; however, by this point, she’d yet to land a single shot. Hopefully, she’d realize that with Tachyonic’s speed in play, Lodestar could dodge most ranged attacks and come in closer. She’d love to see what Plasmodia could do when truly pushed. Unfortunately, knowing the training they’d gotten, Lodestar highly doubted the young woman would break formation. Professor Quantum drilled those lessons in especially hard.
As Agent Quantum looked her over, she wondered if he was going to step up. This plan wasn’t working, not unless they had a secret reveal prepared for the last moment. There was still time to change things, to try something new, but that would demand throwing away their current tactics. It was a hard call to make for any leader: stick with what they knew, even though it was failing, versus rolling the dice on an untested strategy. With a team this developed, there would be other
tactics they could shift to, ones they’d no doubt drilled and polished as much as their current formation. The question was, would any of them work against an opponent as strong as their own team, and could Agent Quantum figure out which?
“Plasmodia, switch to rapid shots. Let’s keep her dancing. Presto, pick a number between one and a hundred. Count to that, then make your jump. She can’t predict your timing if it’s randomized. Tachyonic, switch to support. Use that speed as a surprise. Don’t let her see you coming. I’ll take her on in melee.”
“That a fact?” Lodestar liked that he’d changed things up; however, he’d only shifted the variables, rather than the strategy as a whole. While it could still work, she wasn’t holding her breath on that making the difference.
In response, Agent Quantum raised his own fists. “Since you gave Tachyonic a real sparring session, care to teach it to someone who has been more thoroughly trained in hand-to-hand combat?”
“Nope.” Lodestar dashed over, sweeping Agent Quantum’s legs and knocking him in the stomach on his way down. “The point of that lesson wasn’t that he needs a boxing tutor. It’s that you all have weaknesses. Knowing what they are allows you to plan around them. Ignoring them leaves opponents an opening to exploit.”
Although she could see Tachyonic preparing for another charge and Plasmodia building up energy to shoot once more, in her heart Lodestar knew this test had likely reached its conclusion. Much as she’d been hoping they’d think on their feet, it appeared they were continuing on with trying the same thing, only more powerful. It was an issue she’d expected when taking on Professor Quantum’s team, and one she dearly hoped could be trained out of them.
The other way that lesson sank in wasn’t pretty. It came in the field, when a team fought someone truly beyond their abilities, and usually ended in several funerals. Lodestar would do all she could to educate this group before that day came.
In the moment, that lesson probably required leaving them publicly defeated. A blow to the ego was far, far better than what awaited them if they didn’t learn their lessons during training—even if it meant one more set of superheroes that resented her. She could already see the frustration in their eyes catalyzing into anger, know they were thinking it wasn’t fair, this gulf of power between them. They were right, but it didn’t change the fact that they’d eventually fight a stronger opponent.
She could bear their resentment, their distance, if it meant they’d be able to survive. One more burden added to the countless on her shoulders. This one, at least, she’d been prepared for since the evaluation started. It was how these things always turned out, sooner or later. Admiration turned to jealousy, annoyance, or frustration as attempt after attempt to surpass her power failed.
Standing at the top meant standing alone.
Chapter 50
The worryingly thin woman with skin the color of an old lime moved quietly through the front door, causing a large bell overhead to tinkle loudly. Inside the unremarkable door was a wood-paneled hallway leading deeper into the well-aged building. From down the expanse, music drifted along. Nothing remotely modern, this had a peppy, bouncy rhythm. One might have used the word jaunty, even if it weren’t normally within their vocabulary.
For Lozora, the sound conjured dim memories of her time in the lab. One of the scientists used to leave a television on for her brood at night, believing it would better socialize them with humans. That one had favored older works, some dating back to the days before color. This wasn’t a tune she could particularly recall, it was merely in the style of those programs. Lozora was never sure if that scientist was eaten during the escape, or if they’d been out on the fateful day. As the lone survivor, there was no way to ask the others which humans they’d torn apart in the dash to freedom.
At the end of the hall, there was a single turn. Down a bit further, another door waited. This one hosted a huge glass pane in the center, marking the business as “Vaudeville and Toon: Destructive Indestructibles” in elaborate gold lettering. She was in the right place, moving silently along the weathered floor. No need to turn the knob, she realized, since the door was cracked. That explained how the music was traveling so well.
Pushing her way inside, Lozora found herself looking directly at a desk with a woman behind it. A very distinctive woman, at that: pants held aloft by suspenders, starched shirt, bow tie, a flat-topped straw hat, and a plainly plastic mustache that came to absurdly curly points at each end.
The moment she saw Lozora enter, the curiously dressed woman sprang to her feet, tipping the straw hat and knocking a bottle of ink Lozora hadn’t seen seconds prior onto the floor. It spread across the wood in a dark, oozing puddle, yet the woman paid the spill not the slightest of mind.
“Good afternoon! Welcome to Vaudeville and Toon, Independent Disaster Contracting. As you might have guessed, I’m Vaudeville, in the flesh. What can I do for you today?”
“My employer is interested in your services.” She wasn’t entirely sure what to make of Vaudeville, having only ever known the woman by reputation. She didn’t seem like much outside of an oddball, but that meant nothing. According to reports, she and Toon were among the highest-ranked metas in existence for survivability. The latter had supposedly even survived a scuffle with Fornax. That was the sort of power it was useful to have around.
“Of course, you did walk into our office. Services must be in demand, so tell me the skinny. Boss have a competing bar we need to go for a dance at? Maybe a business we should patronize? Tell us where you need the chaos, and that’s where we’ll be.” She paused, looking Lozora over more carefully. “With some exceptions, by matter of policy.”
Best to start with the caveats. Lozora might save herself some time. “What sorts of exceptions?”
“The expected sort. Ya see, Toon and I occupy a niche in the laws and protections around meta-humans. We exert influence on the world around us simply by existing in it. We cause chaos and trouble no matter where we go. The reason that’s legal is because we can’t control it, and jailing us for effects outside our control crosses several legal lines. That said, we’re also not stooges. Laws can change, ya know. It’s why we avoid anything related to or around the Alliance of Heroic Champions. Not looking to pick a fight with people who can put the kibosh on our business.”
About what Lozora had expected. It was standard practice among those who’d been around long enough to build a reputation in the first place. Steering clear of the capes was just good sense, which was what made her employer’s aspirations all the rarer. Not many were left who’d challenge the AHC directly. Luckily, he’d also found places for assets that were technically unconnected from what the capes would be dealing with.
“That won’t be an issue,” Lozora replied.
“Tickled as a hog in hosiery to hear it.” Another look, this one more probing. “I’ll ask your forgiveness for the uncouth addition, but given your overall deadly demeanor, feels prudent to mention we also don’t tango with the other side of that equation. Vaudeville and Toon are strictly a civilian service. We avoid the major leagues.”
Here, unfortunately, they had an issue. From a door on the left, annoyed ranting could be heard. Seconds later, it could also be seen, as actual scribbles and blurred-out symbols manifested in the air. That was the only warning before the door slammed open and a new man ambled through.
He had a strange movement to him, a constant bounce, like he was never truly still. His intense expression was a sharp contrast to the bright, cheerful hues he was clad in, and the coifed bobbing hair swaying atop his skull. It was hard to place this person’s age. His skin was off in texture, somehow just... not right, but it lacked any signs of aging. Older than a teen, younger than what most would consider a true adult, the man was a shifting tapestry as he took long, unusual steps through the room.
“Your partner agrees with that, or does he make his own choices?”
“Toon isn’t one to get bogged down in details. He prefers the fun,�
�� Vaudeville replied.
“He’s also out of beer. Turned into milk again.” From a small mini-fridge, Toon produced a brown bottle, then very carefully eased the door shut.
As soon as it clicked, a stack of books fell from literally nowhere, smacking Vaudeville in the cranium one after another. With every blow, she teetered more and more off-balance, until the last one sent her to the ground. Then, moments later, Vaudeville was back up as if nothing had happened. That was the thing about these two: easy to hit, near impossible to hurt.
Looking mildly embarrassed by the bookslide, Toon managed a repentant expression, albeit not well. This was a bit too commonplace for the pair to feel bad about. “Sorry, didn’t mean to do that in front of a client.”
“That’s quite all right, Toon,” Vaudeville assured him. “Our guest was leaving anyway, seeing as she’s clearly here recruiting for some sort of larger caper, and we don’t fit in. Besides, she just tried to play us against each other. I’m not fond of working with those who can’t respect the bond between partners.”
While Lozora was technically here diplomatically, she still felt her spine tense. Perhaps this woman didn’t quite realize who she was talking to. Lozora was no mere lackey to be drummed out when someone else’s patience wore thin. Tapping her hands against the arms of the chair, Lozora began to rise.
“Oh goody and gumption. Toon, looks like you might get to have some fun today after all.”
Toon looked from Lozora to Vaudeville, then dropped the beer into a wastebasket, where it somehow made a sound like a ringside bell. Putting his right thumb to his mouth, Toon began to blow. As he did, his entire fist swelled in size to absurd, comical proportions. A literal gleam twinkled in both of his now wide eyes, the first signs of genuine excitement he’d shown, all pointed directly at Lozora.
