“Honest, no taking off on my own. I need you.”
“Okay. You know I’m here for you.” She places her hand on my shoulder and smiles. The air pops and she’s gone.
I walk out of the airport and blast off. I’m a few thousand feet up and I let Epic take the wheel so I can think. He puts me into an orbit over Phoenix. As I see it I have a few problems.
Who took my parents?
Why?
I have to assume that Category-7, the Cabal, and whoever let the Psychotic Six out of prison, are all the same people. The real question then is, what are they after? They had my parents slaving away for fourteen years building tech. From what I saw, my parents and a lot of other scientists. Did they kidnap them all? For a while I thought they wanted my armor, and maybe they did or do. Are they amassing a hi-tech arsenal?
“Epic, run a search: missing scientists and cross-reference it with telepaths.”
Time parameter?
Good question… “Twenty-years.”
Affirmative.
Missing scientists, dead telepaths, and hi-tech weapons along with several attempts to steal my armor. Whoever is behind it is hoarding technology, scientists, and possibly killing of telepaths?
Why?
Search complete. In the last twenty years, fifteen scientists, including your parents, have disappeared without a trace. One day they existed, then they didn’t. If it wasn’t for the Internet I wouldn’t have even known about them. In that same time frame, three F4, and one F5 telepath have died or disappeared under suspicious circumstances.
“It would be safe to assume then, whoever’s behind this can mind control. Maybe that is the reason for killing the other telepaths?”
You have an incoming call from Luke.
“On screen,” I say with a smile. Whatever dour thoughts I have vanish when I see his smiling mug.
“Amelia, where are you?”
“Flying over Phoenix, doing some thinking. Is there an alert?”
“No, but Pierre, Tony and I have to go. The Governor is off to DC for a special summit with the head of the DMHA. She wants us there to show the flag. I’m leaving Kate in charge, so try not to get in trouble while we're gone?”
“No promises.” I can hear him sigh. “How long are you going to be gone?”
“Just a couple of days. Hey, aren’t you supposed to be in LA at five?”
Crap! Yes I am.
“I’ve got plenty of time,” I say convincingly.
You don’t, actually. We will have to exceed Mach Three to make it there before your scheduled interview.
“Okay then, have fun. Don’t blow a hole in the studio or anything, and I’ll see you when I get back. And Amelia?”
I smile at the thought of going nuclear on the stupid show, “Yes?”
“I… I’ll miss you.”
46
“We’re here today with the hero of Las Vegas, Arsenal,” the show’s host says. I already dislike this woman. The way she emphasized hero didn’t sound like a compliment. Luckily, no one can see my face. While I have to do this show as part of my ‘duties’ to the team, I don’t have to do it out of the armor. Instead, I’m on their couch in three-hundred pounds of titanium and tungsten. I’ve never really paid much attention to this person or the show itself. I had to have Epic give me the lowdown.
Ranna ‘Make it Rain’ Meadows was a superhero with the invaluable power of making it rain in a localized area. Epic says she did a stint on the SoCal team, which according to Luke pretty much anyone can get on, powers or no. I imagine she could be handy in a forest fire, but not a lot else.
She’s pretty, not Kate, but pretty. California has a way of homogenizing people into tanned skin and blonde hair, and she certainly fits the bill. Her shows tend to be light, funny, and occasionally she has dramatic reveals. A few well-known supers have admitted to crimes on her shows and a couple of gone public with their identity here. I had Epic play me the tapes and I thought it was odd, after all, if I were going to admit to a crime it wouldn’t be on national TV. Regardless, she has the highest rated talk show in the US for that very reason.
“Tell us about yourself, Arsenal?” she asks with a vapid expression. I can’t really read her, it’s like she’s playing poker. The set would be intimidating if I weren’t hiding in my armor. Numerous LED lights illuminate every square inch. They have three cameras they use to catch the guests at different angles. Epic offered to hack them to make sure they caught my best side.
“There’s nothing really to tell. I’ve always dreamed of being a superhero,” that’s an easy lie, who doesn’t? “When I didn’t manifest with powers I found a way to simulate them. Hence the suit.” I shrug. This is the cover lie Kate helped me come up with. Part lie, part truth. I’ve never dreamed of having super powers but that is for me to know.
“And what was it like, the first time you flew?”
I was expecting more of a focus on the incident in Vegas since that’s the reason I’m even doing the interview, but whatever.
“Pretty cool. Flying is far and away the most awesome thing to do in the suit.” I tell her.
Her eyes narrow and she cocks her head to the side a little. It’s like she’s trying to see through my faceplate or something. Her hand plays with her coffee cup as a few seconds go by. Maybe she’s trying to read me? Fat chance. Not only can she not see my face, the suit obliterates body language not to mention Epic adjusts my voice to remove all traces of emotion.
“Hmm, laconic I see. How long have you been with the Diamondbacks—”
I open my mouth to answer but she keeps on going—
“And is it true you’re romantically linked to Major Force?”
Anger flushes through me, freezing my thoughts as my whole body goes stiff. How could she possibly know that?
Careful, she is trying to manipulate you into divulging information. Let me process the—
“Thanks, Epic, I got this,” I say to him. I take a breath to stifle my anger at her invasion and say, “Major Force is an exceptional team leader and a selfless human being. Any woman would be lucky to call him a boyfriend.” Thank goodness Epic flattens my voice; I couldn’t keep it from wavering. Of course it’s none of her business. None. But she is in it for the money, she does this for the ratings and the juicier the better, right?
I can tell she’s not happy with my answer. Again, she cocks her head to the side… what is she trying to do?
“Let’s try another line, I see you’ve added glitter to your suit? Is that to remind the public you are a woman? You are a woman, aren’t you? You’re not a man hiding in that suit?”
Glitter? I didn’t add glitter—my spray Faraday shield! There must be a lot of EMR in the room for it to sparkle like that. It’s causing the electrons on the outside to flash, I guess that would look like glitter. I figured in the bright sun it would sparkle but this is something else.
“Epic, run a full diagnostics, make sure we’re okay and bring the ECM suite to ‘active’.”
Affirmative.
“Well, I am a gir—woman, I do like shiny things,” I mock laugh. I can only imagine how awkward an emotionless laugh must sound.
She takes a sip of her coffee while looking at me over the rim of the cup. Maybe I should take charge of this before I let her dictate the whole thing to me.
“When I was in Las Vegas I—”
“Tell me,” she talks right over me, “If you’re not romantically involved with Major Force, surely there must be someone who you’re involved with? Perhaps Domino?”
My brain short circuits and I can’t think of anything to say to that.
“Surely, with a team as tight as the Diamondbacks, someone is sleeping with someone. I know our audience would love to know.”
“What the hell kind of question is that?” Does this line usually work for her? I can’t imagine anything I would want to talk about less than my love life or anyone else's.
She blinks several times before sitting up straight.
Her eyes narrow and I can’t tell what she thinks she’s trying to do. After a moment she gives herself a little shake and turns to the camera.
“We’ll be right back after these commercials.”
She holds a vapid smile for a second then the red light on the camera vanishes and she turns to me, all pretense of civility is gone and she practically snarls.
“What kind of robot are you? I was told there’s a real person under all that armor? Paulsen? Paulsen?” she screams at the booth above the soundstage.
There’s a click of an electronic microphone kicking in, “Yes, Ranna?” a man asks with equal parts resignation and boredom.
“Do we have a backup guest? What about the guy in the green tights? The one with the bird name?” she has gone from glowering to ignoring me. I would be offended if I knew what the hell was going on.
“No backup guests, this is a major spot for us, no one else has interviewed Arsenal other than her local paper. Make it work, Ranna.”
“Make it work? She’s a damn robot, Paulsen, how am I supposed to get anything out of her?”
There’s no response but the woman behind the camera shouts, “thirty seconds.”
She turns to me in a huff and puts her palms flat down on her desk, “Now listen up, you stupid machine, give me something I can get ratings on.”
“First,” I reply, “I’m not a frigging robot. Okay? I’m here to talk about Las Vegas or anything else related to the team. Not their love lives or anything personal about them. If you’re not happy with that I can leave right now.” I stand up to emphasize my point. Her eyes narrow to dots as she glares at me.
I don’t really care. I came here because Cat-7 made me. I can leave just as easy.
“Sit down,” she orders.
There is something off about her. Our Faraday cage glowing could be interference from the wireless broadcasts… or something else.
Now that I think about it, he could be right. Could she be hiding empathic powers? Regardless, it won’t, or shouldn’t, affect me. Hopefully, she’s got her act together now…
47
An hour later I’m on the roof of the TV building staring up into the smog-filled sky. I can’t smell the air but I imagine it stinks. The sun is just about to start going down, and like the sun, my mood is plummeting. I can’t help but feel hollow about this. Stupid interview aside, I feel like I’m missing something obvious.
Artemis has achieved a geosynchronous orbit above the Midwestern united states. I estimate she will be online in the next 24 hours.
“Thanks, buddy, good to know. Any word from Shai-Hulud?”
So far, he has identified three bases the enemy has. He has also delivered information about their organization. From what I have pieced together, and based on our new information, I would be 88% certain that the majority of Cat-7’s ‘shadow’ organization we are now calling, ‘The Cabal’, are mind controlled assets.
That’s sobering.
“Who on Earth could be powerful enough to control so many people at once?”
No one alive.
“You mean Kate’s old headmaster? You think he faked his death?”
She did indicate the unlikeliness of his murder.
I mull that over for a second. The roar of a jet taking off at the airport booms over us as I think.
“Call Kate and…”
We are being jammed.
Roar of a jet? We’re nowhere near—too late.
The explosion sends me sprawling off the roof of the twenty story TV station. My HUD flashes red over a number of subsystems as I tumble. The g-forces pull against me, my stomach threatens revolt.
“Kinetic shields, kinetic shields,” I scream.
The ground comes up fast, I close my eyes bracing for impact. My momentum halts suddenly as the shields come back online absorbing the energy of the fall. I hit the ground with no more force than a step.
“What hit us?”
Unknown. The force of the blast was several thousand pounds.
A shadow falls over me. A cloud? No, much, much worse. I’ve seen the footage but… Colossal.
Data suggest you are facing a group of mercs known as ‘Death Dealers’. They sell their powers to the highest bidder.
Fantastic. I hit the jets full power as a giant foot, at least ten feet long slams into the ground behind me. Concrete shatters like glass, cars flip and alarms ring. I need altitude. The roar of a jet engine fills the air. It wasn’t a plane before, but whatever knocked me off the roof. I dodge hard right as a fireball streaks by. The sensor suite in my optics darkens the glaring blaze showing the man inside.
“Besides Colossal and Rocketman, who else does the team have?” I turn and fire IP canons full power back the way I came. The energy smashes into Colossal, dissipating off the surface area of his skin. He’s easily sixty feet tall with a black and white spandex-like suit. It stretches and covers him head to toe. Thankfully, he isn’t as fast as a normal sized person, but certainly tougher. He’s between two buildings, using one as a support as he swats at me. The other guy, some kind of human rocket, keeps barreling down on me.
“Are there more than two?”
The details of their roster are sketchy at best. Colossal is the most well known for his rampage in Puerto Rico, there are likely three to four members total.
Awesome. I swerve just in time to avoid Rocketman, again. He can’t bank worth a damn. However, with his body burning the way it is, I can’t exactly pod him. I seriously doubt a pod will have any effect on Colossal either.
I burn straight up, flip over reversing my course effectively looping up above the big guy so he can’t hit me as I fly behind him.
“Scan that parked fire truck, anyone in it?”
Two firefighters.
I land in front of the truck with a crunch of shattered concrete. The two firefighters in the cab stare at me open-mouthed. I thought people in LA would be used to seeing supers? Epic pumps up the volume on my voice.
“Get out!”
They don’t hesitate.
“Three pods, front, middle, back.”
I don’t have a lot of time, Rocket is coming around for another strafing run and there may still be two other attackers hiding in the concrete canyons of downtown LA. As we climb I hear my grenade launcher sing its quire of puff puff puff.
Colossal turns around, managing to carve out enough of the buildings he’s using for balance to create an avalanche of glass and steel. Damn. Where is the SoCal team? This should be all over the news?
“What’s with the jamming? Any chance we can find the source?”
Scanning. They have a tight beam directional jammer tracking us. I will try to triangulate as you fly. Do not get hit.
“Gee, you think?”
Rocketman screams by. I spin to avoid him sending a stream of IP cannons after him but he’s too fast for me to follow, the energy just ends up washing against the side of a building. At least in the narrow canyons he can’t turn around with any speed.
“Any chance Artemis is ready?”
Negative, while she is in a stable orbit, she has yet to fully deploy her package.
A glance at the firetruck and she’s still only a few feet off the ground. Just a few more seconds and she’ll be high enough for my plan to work. Seconds I might not get. I bank again, coming around a tall circular building and I see a man standing on top of it. He has long black hair tied in a ponytail and one of those long beards I see everyone sporting suddenly. Dressed like a logger he holds his hand out at me with his fingers shaped like a gun.
“Epic—”
He pretend fires and the world explodes. Flames engulf the suit, master alarms scream, the sheer force blasts me through glass windows and drywall and out the other side. The concrete firewall of the first floor stops me cold. Screams of panic fill the air. As my vision clears I can see the hole we made, thirty feet long and smoking. The buildings fire alarm sounds and water sprays down instantly turning to steam on contact with the suit. I
f I had been in the MKI— I’d be dead now.
“Who the hell is that?” I ask. My legs are wobbly but they do the job.
Hand Cannon. He can project massive pyrotechnic explosions from his forefinger. Based on what hit us I would say an order of magnitude greater than any missile or bomb. While the kinetic shields can absorb the secondary effects, the initial blast hits the armor.
A glance at my chest and sure enough, a blackened scorch mark covers it dead center as if a bomb went off right in front of me. The suit is tough, but it’s designed to work with the shields.
“Okay, they want to play rough, no more Ms. Nice Girl. Safeties off.”
On the HUD the particle beam ready light flicks on. Both power up instantly.
Kinetic Lance is also at one-hundred percent.
Thankfully the office I hit was mostly empty; I don’t think anyone was hurt. I trigger my Emdrive and floor it out the hole I made when I entered. Rocketman must have been waiting because he’s on my tail in an instant. Epic fires the Lance as soon as I bracket his blazing form. He jerks up like he hit a wall and careens away in a spiral toward the ground.
I can’t help but smile.
“Okay, status on the fire truck?”
Thirty feet up.
“Perfect.”
Staying low to avoid Hand Cannon, I swing back around, dodge a chunk of wall Colossal throws at me and fly between his legs. The fire truck is only sixty feet away, it takes a little less than two seconds to cover that. I line up behind it and trigger the afterburners. The truck probably weighs five tons. Five tons that my ag pods manage to nullify. However, force isn’t calculated using weight, it’s calculated using mass.
I slam the truck into his back at a hundred miles an hour. The mass of the fire truck is a thousand times greater than I could achieve on my own and the impact crushes bones and pulps flesh. He goes down screaming. The forward pod is destroyed when the cab of the truck caves. I let it go to glide gently to the ground.
Colossal shrieks in pain all the way down. His powers cut off and by the time he’s writing in agony the big man is nothing more than his usual height.
Full Metal Superhero Box Set [Books 1-6] Page 24
