Bones of the Past (Villains' Code Book 2)

by Drew Hayes

  “Yes, we would, and they would be a force of good—the power always seeks a suitable host. That said, what is and isn’t ‘good’ has many subjective pieces. We’ve scanned the multiverse time after time for various reasons, and while every person who carries that power is on the side of the capes, they don’t always share Helen’s sense of empathy and compassion. To put it bluntly… now that you understand just how powerful Lodestar really is, that none of us could stand against her, how many people do you know that you would trust with that strength? With that level of unchecked, absolute power keeping watch on the world? Because for me, the answer is exactly one.”

  Tori’s anxious energy dissipated as she sat heavily on the couch across from Ivan, a thousand-yard stare settling down in her eyes. “Now that, I get. A more authoritarian Lodestar could reshape our whole world in a matter of years, especially with the AHC at their disposal.”

  “Precisely. Add in that Helen is an actual friend, and you can see my concern, admittedly misplaced as it is. Even among the Lodestars of the other worlds, Helen is exceptional.” Ivan should know. He’d been there when she bucked the system and broke the rules—except, that wasn’t really how it worked for Lodestar. She didn’t break the rules. Even when she thought she did, it was far scarier than that. Lodestar changed the rules, sometimes without even realizing she’d done it.

  Tori leaned forward in her seat, pushing the couch cushion to a precarious edge. “Why is that?” Most in the guild would have let the cryptic statement hang, but Tori’s love of learning easily outpaced any sense of respect for unspoken secrets. Luckily, she was clued in enough that he could give her part of the answer.

  “A few factors, but the most important of which is her bonds to other people. This is, admittedly, some speculation, but I believe Lodestars are designed to slowly lose their connections to the world they protect. As time goes on, the job wears them down, the burden of that power becomes too heavy to bear. Being the absolute strongest is a lonely proposition, especially when the whole world counts on you. Slowly, they lose the fire to fight, and the next time they’re pushed, the power moves on, finding a fresh host filled with the desire to make a difference. Even Helen had some rough patches along the way, but she managed to stay connected to friends, enemies, and some who fall in the middle. She’s held her sense of self for an already impressive amount of time, which let her grow into the power more than most. But all of that was just the warm-up, because very few Lodestars have children. She didn’t even think it was possible for decades.”

  “With Penelope in the mix, there’s no way Helen will run out of will to fight,” Tori realized. Unfortunately, she also had the mind of a villain, as well as someone who’d recently seen the depths some criminals would stoop to. “That also makes the kid a vulnerability, though. If anything happened to Penelope, would Helen be able to hold on?”

  There wasn’t an easy answer for that, so Ivan didn’t try to give one. “I’ve no idea, and have worked very hard over the last few years to not find out. That is not a version of Helen, or Lodestar, I ever want to see.”

  Leaning back into her couch, Tori let out a long breath. “Well, that’s sure not going to keep me up at night or anything. Thanks for the eventual existential crisis, Ivan.”

  “You could always look on the bright side,” he suggested.

  “Which is?” Tori’s words were barely out before the knock at the door brought her jerking back to the reality of the situation, just in time to see the wily smirk on Ivan’s face.

  “I took your mind off the stage fright, didn’t I?”

  The gun clattered onto the concrete, knocked away by a barely seen blur as it whipped by, seconds before a powerful blow knocked the crew’s muscle two feet off the ground before landing, visibly dazed. With their muscle pushed back, the others were exposed. They turned toward the street, hoping to find some passersby that might serve as makeshift human shields. None were within reach, and as the blur did a sweep around the perimeter of the bank, they realized that was no coincidence. The New Science Sentries hadn’t just been drawing fire. Tachyonic was clearing civilians every time they were distracted.

  Agent Quantum walked up to their stunned brick of meta-muscle and executed a simple trip, sending him to the ground without inflicting any more damage than necessary. Half the crew tried to make a break for it, only to have the ground in front of them sear and bubble as burning hot beams of focused energy tore forth from Plasmodia. There was no getting away that easily, not unless they were willing to take their chances on her aim, which didn’t really have to be that good to hit under these conditions.

  The blur stopped next to Agent Quantum, marking the first time in the fight Tachyonic had slowed down enough to be seen. “Area is clear. No civilians left to be in danger.”

  “Good job. That means we can wrap things up.” Agent Quantum looked over the crew, many of whom were still reared up and spoiling for a fight, not content to be taken out so easily by some rookie team with a spotty record. Eyes flicked to Plasmodia, guarding the rear, and Tachyonic, always at his side. The missing presence pained him. No taunting voice or vanishing form. Perhaps that was why the words found their way to his tongue and felt strangely right perched there. Agent Quantum wasn’t especially prone to improvisation, but he knew when to listen to his heart.

  “New Science Sentries...” Despite the ache in his soul, Agent Quantum’s mouth still twisted into a smile as the words broke free, a moment he liked to think Ike would have appreciated. “Time for the Big Finish.”

  “Isn’t that Tori?”

  Lucy’s voice startled Donald. The team had been largely silent for the last hour, seated in the general AHC facilities, mentally recovering from Presto’s funeral. The New Science Sentries were already back on patrol—everyone handled grief in their own way, and it seemed that team was the type to work through it. As for Donald’s group, they had no pressing business, and after a morning of heavy workouts all around, had simply fallen into a state of rest, save for Ren, who was doing pushups in the corner next to Irene reading her book.

  Only Lucy had been paying much attention to the communal television, set to a local news station in case of emergency information being broadcast. Donald had appeared to be napping, though he was in fact cycling through his lists of items and games, trying to find something that might have helped in the battle with Alfred Settler. It had become his new hobby, or a reincarnation of his previous one. Before the powers and items, Donald was just a guy who loved gaming, and one component of that was loss. Failure was part of games; it was why they had multi-life mechanics. But he’d yet to find any item trustworthy enough to bet a self-resurrection on, which meant he had to make sure to learn his lessons well when he was lucky enough to survive. He’d keep digging until he found a viable strategy. Even if Settler was gone, there were other dangerous threats out there—no reason a sound tactic couldn’t be used elsewhere.

  Pausing the programs with an opening of his eyes, Donald realized that Lucy was right, that was indeed Tori on the screen. The subtitles were a few seconds behind, so he missed the initial context. It seemed like she was being interviewed in a nice place, lots of natural light and gleaming fixtures. When the camera cut away, it was to a genial face framed by a fading hairline of copper. Donald nearly fell back in his chair. What in the hell was Tori doing on the news with famous billionaire Wade Wyatt?

  Hopping up from his seat, he darted over to the side table near Irene, where the remote was sitting, quickly turning up the volume. His movement also got Irene and Ren’s attention, both of them taking note of a familiar face on the screen. Finally, Donald found the sound button and clicked it.

  “—which is what inspired me to reach out through the corporate chain and speak to Mr. Wyatt,” Tori finished. She was clearly nervous, though not rattled, voice surprisingly calm and steady despite her body’s occasional fidget.

  The screen cut back to the reporter, a generic, handsome face Donald couldn’t have pic
ked out of a news anchor lineup. “Is it standard policy for the company’s owner to hear out such requests from employees?”

  Another cut, this time to Wade Wyatt, who was in no way showing the slightest bit of unease. He looked as if he’d been born on camera, a genial grin fixed in place and a sparkle of brilliance shining from his eyes. “As a matter of fact, Indigo Technologies and all subsidiaries have many programs for advancement that self-starters like Tori have used to get attention on their excellent ideas, though her case was indeed special. Learning what one of our employees went through, I reached out to see if there was anything she needed that we could provide. And lo and behold, what does she say? Not a request for more time off, or even a joke about hazard pay. No, Tori Rivas took that opportunity and told me she didn’t want this to happen again. More than that, she had ideas for how to make a difference, if I was willing to listen.”

  Tori looked almost sheepish as the camera returned to her for a few seconds, circling around to Wade Wyatt once more soon after. “I think we’ve teased this out enough, don’t you? Let’s let Tori tell us, in her own words, about the new product line from Indigo Technologies.”

  “The hell is all this?” Irene had closed her book, getting up from the chair just as the interview cut out, switching over to prerecorded footage.

  “Genuinely no idea,” Donald replied. The screen was currently showing footage of Tori’s kidnapping, the event that had catapulted her right into the public’s eye after Tachyonic gave her the initial bout of exposure. Watching the attack on his friend hurt, filling Donald with a desire to show those jerks what-for, if any of them were still alive.

  The clip didn’t show it all, just the highlights, as Tori’s voice began to play. “My name is Tori Rivas, and if you know me, it’s as the woman who recently got snatched off the streets of Ridge City— despite me having training.” The clip showed Tori’s attacks to the kidnappers’ joints, brutal and accurate as she made them work for their prize. “Despite the crowds nearby.” A new angle, flashing on the multitude of bystanders who’d stood idly by as the fight took place, some even having produced their phones. “Despite all of this happening in the Alliance of Heroic Champions’ same neighborhood.” Now the shot was of a sweeping view of the city, giving context for the few blocks that separated Tori’s point of abduction from the home base of what was supposed to be the greatest superhero organization in the world.

  Tori was on-screen again, but not in cobbled-together found-footage, nor as the stiff woman giving a live interview. This was still prerecorded, and apparently, with enough time and takes, she could manage to smother her discomfort. She looked right down the barrel of the camera, expression bordering on severe. “We live in a dangerous world. A world where the balance of power swings wildly from person to person, and often, there’s no telling who, or what, you’re up against until it’s too late. While we appreciate the help of superheroes and their organizations, there’s no denying the fact that they can’t save everyone. In light of the recent invasion, that has become all the more clear.”

  “What is she talking about?” Ren was no longer working out, a true testament to how attention-grabbing Tori’s interview was. “We fought the Wrexwren back on the first wave.”

  “We won,” Lucy agreed, a touch of melancholy in her tone. “Just not for free. Innocents still died, people lost their loved ones. The big victory doesn’t always seem so worth it when you’re the one who has to pay the price.”

  Much as Donald felt like he should ask more about that, Tori was speaking again, and this wasn’t a situation where he wanted to miss the details.

  She was standing now, walking forward down a white hallway. “What you might not know about me is that I’m more than the internet’s favorite damsel of the moment. I’m also an inventor, a problem solver. So, after experiencing that terror for myself, I decided that next time would be different. And thanks to the generous support of Indigo Technologies, we’ve been able to make that ambition into a reality.”

  A podium appeared in frame as she kept walking, holding what appeared to be a handbag and collection of accessories. Tori scooped up the bag, showing it off to the camera. Under her breath, Donald heard Lucy whisper “So cute!”, probably without realizing she’d spoken aloud.

  “This was our starting point, the product launching this week, from which we’ve already grown. A seemingly simple purse capable of releasing a toxin that will render all but the most powerful of metas incapable of action while you make your escape. It’s also compliant with all federal regulations for self-defense weaponry, and specifically engineered to keep it from being used by even the most fashionable of criminals.”

  Her hand wandered now, tapping on a few of the featured accessories. “A small preview of some upcoming options we think you’ll find especially useful: video-recording earrings with remote cloud storage for evidence, lipstick that can create incredibly painful dermal abrasions, watches with sonic charge capabilities—an entire arsenal hidden in plain sight. If you’re like me, if you feel the same fear of this world’s dangers, then you don’t just want a weapon. You want an armada, an ambush waiting in your hand for the next time someone decides you look like an easy target.”

  Gesturing to the display, Tori graced the camera with her first real smile of the whole spectacle. “With great pleasure, I’m honored to announce Indigo Technologies’ newest line: the Rivas Personal Defense System. Because it’s about time we were allowed to save ourselves.”

  Ivan hadn’t been sure what to expect from the knock at his door. Most people who knew this address would also be the type to reach out before heading over. Of course, the surprise made more sense when Ivan saw who was standing on the other side. After over a full week of radio silence, some conversations needed to be done in person.

  “Helen,” he greeted, looking around his townhome’s entrance courtyard to see if there were any other people to overhear. “Would you like to come in?”

  “Sorry, can’t stay for long.” She rummaged around in her purse, producing a small stack of pages and handing them over. “Just came to give you these. Congratulations, Ivan, your sentence as a Starscout leader has officially come to an end. When the cluster reopens, they’ll have new, permanent staff for the kids. I already vetted everyone myself. There won’t be a repeat of the Haywood incident.”

  Moving without thinking, Ivan accepted the papers, unfolding them to reveal exactly what had been described—an official notice from the Starscouts thanking him for his time and explaining the leadership handoff process. “Thank you. Stability will be good for Beth, especially after all the excitement.”

  “Of course. Any child welcome means any child welcome, and so long as that organization uses my likeness, they’re going to uphold that tenet.” Helen looked him over, not quite able to hide the awkwardness that now lay between them.

  Tempting as it was to let her walk away while the mood was still polite, Ivan couldn’t permit the moment to pass. He had no idea when the next chance might arrive. “About the other stuff...” he began, before Helen put a single hand on his chest.

  “Ivan, I have always known who you are, and what you’re capable of. Do you really think you need to explain this to me, of all people? That I don’t already know it was for your kids, yes, but also about maintaining order the only way you knew how. I think, deep down, maybe even a little bit of you thought it was for me, saving me the trouble of working toward peace with invaders that had no taste for it. I understand your reasoning. I just... can’t accept it.”

  “The world is safe,” Ivan pointed out.

  “At what cost?” Helen looked up, and he realized that her eyes were watering. “Even beyond the loss of life you caused, did you ever think that maybe there were things beyond this planet worth knowing about? Technologies, medicines, new ways of living we could benefit from, all of which are likely lost to us now, because you just painted Earth as a backwater hellpit that no sensible species would come within a hundred l
ightyears of.”

  He nodded, already aware of the effect such a message would have. “A necessary risk to ensure our planet is left undisturbed.”

  The hand against his sternum turned into a finger, poking him roughly. “Because you decided it should be that way. You made that choice for all of humanity, for untold generations to come. That wasn’t your right to decide.”

  “Forgive me if I have trouble taking that critique from you.”

  The tears were fading fast now as anger began to outpace sadness on Helen’s emotional spectrum. “Do you think I sought those choices out? That I ever wanted to make them? I am tormented daily by the fears that I made the wrong decisions along the way and set something in motion to doom us all. But at least I was trying to think of everyone when I made them. All you were thinking about was yourself, about the kind of world you wanted. Congratulations, Ivan. You got your way.”

  Her rage petered out toward the end. Fury was never Helen’s strong suit, unless she was truly motivated, and on those occasions, even Ivan ran for cover. Part of him wanted to reach out to her, yet once again that day, Ivan felt the distance separating them keenly.

  “Helen, I did what I thought was necessary to keep the world safe. I’m sorry if you don’t agree with my methods, but the low body counts alone speak to how efficient it was.”

  “I know you did, Ivan. Like I said up front, I’ve always known who you are,” Helen said, a distinct tinge of sadness unmistakable in her voice. “It had just been so long, I guess I let myself pretend otherwise.” The sigh from Helen was long, as her hand finally moved away from his chest. “Even if you break a chocolate bar in half, it still has the same calories.”