Omega Superhero 1: Caped

by Darius Brasher

  “My powers?”

  “Yes, your powers.” Amazing Man’s eyes narrowed. “You are Theodore Conley, aren’t you?”

  “Theodore Conley?” I hesitated, completely flustered. What was a world-famous Hero like Amazing Man doing here? “Uh, I guess so. I mean yes. Yes, my name is Conley Theodore. No, that’s not right. I mean Theodore Conley.”

  Amazing Man looked puzzled for a moment. Then his eyes softened. He bent over a bit, looking me squarely in the eye.

  “Theodore,” he said, speaking very gently and carefully enunciating, “you don’t by any chance go to some sort of special school do you?”

  “What? Special school? No.” It dawned on me what he meant. He thought I was mentally challenged. I could hardly blame him. “No,” I said again, more firmly this time, trying to sound smart. Then again, how smart could you sound saying a two letter word, even if that word was IQ?

  I realized that I still held the hoe out in front of me like it was a sword. I knew enough about Amazing Man to know he was not going to hurt me. Besides, if he was inclined to hurt me, a hoe would not stop him. A bazooka wouldn’t stop him. He was super strong, he could fly, he was nearly invulnerable, and he could shoot powerful blasts of energy from his arms. Since I did not need them—plus I looked silly—I put the hoe and the potato plant I still clutched down. I got to my feet. As sweaty, dirty, and discombobulated as I was, I must have looked a mess. What a way to make a first impression.

  “Sorry about the hoe,” I said. “You caught me off-guard, is all.”

  Now that I was on my feet, I took a long hard look at Amazing Man. I did not feel badly about doing so as he was doing the same thing to me. He was tall, taller than even Dad. His costume was chrome blue and silver with black accents. The accents were arranged in such a way that Amazing Man looked like he was in motion even when he stood still. The costume was tight on his body, almost as if it had been sprayed on. Amazing Man’s terrifically developed musculature made me want to lock myself inside a gym with a large supply of raw beef and creatine and not come out again until I put on at least twenty pounds of muscle. His white cape, worn asymmetrically over his right shoulder, was bordered with blue and black. It hung down to his calves. His chrome blue mask only covered the area around his eyes, leaving the rest of his head bare. His hair was long, slightly shorter than shoulder-length. It was the same white color as his cape. That fact, combined with the lines on his face, made me realize Amazing Man was quite old despite the fact he had the body of a Greek god.

  “Well?” Amazing Man finally said, jarring me out of my starefest. I realized my mouth hung open. I closed it. I had been having a lot of jaw-dropping experiences lately.

  “Well what?” I asked.

  “Well, why don’t you use your powers to dig up the potatoes?” Amazing Man said, speaking slowly again. He did not sound convinced I did not go to a special school.

  “Uh, because I’m not supposed to? Because it’s illegal?” Amazing Man made me nervous. Because of that, I kept putting simple statements in the form of a question. What was I, a Jeopardy contestant? “Also, I don’t know how.” A thought struck me. “Wait a minute—how do you know about my powers?”

  Amazing Man made a slight dismissive gesture with his hands.

  “How I know about them is not important. The fact I do know about them is. I know you are an Omega-level telekinetic. I also know that an Omega-level telekinetic has no need to dig up potatoes by hand.” He gestured impatiently at the plants around us. “So hurry up and dig them up with your powers. Come along now, we haven’t got all day.”

  “But I’m not supposed to. I’m not licensed to use my powers. Besides, I don’t know how.” I realized I had said that already. I sounded like a broken record. Apparently, that was the effect talking to a living legend had on me.

  Amazing Man sighed. “I happen to know that, under Heroes’ Guild regulations, an unlicensed Meta can use his powers while under the supervision of a duly licensed Hero who is also a member of the Executive Committee of the Heroes’ Guild.” He winked at me. “I know that because I wrote the regulation myself back when I served as chairman of the Executive Committee. Though I no longer chair the committee—the damned title carried with it too many silly responsibilities and busywork—I’m still on the committee. Never let someone talk you into chairing a committee, by the way. A committee is an organism with multiple heads, six or more legs, and no brain. Trying to lead a committee of Heroes is worse than trying to herd cats. Chairing a committee full of them reminds me of the man who got ridden out of town on a rail. ‘If it weren’t for the honor of the thing, I’d just as soon walk,’ the man said.” Amazing Man paused, looking at me. I think he again expected to me to laugh. I was having a hard time following. I was too taken aback by this whole situation to barely breathe, much less laugh.

  “Anyway,” Amazing Man said, clearly having decided to move on, “rest assured that as long as I’m supervising you, you using your powers is perfectly within the bounds of the law.” He folded his arms across his massive chest expectantly. “So go ahead. Use your powers to dig up all these potatoes. Hurry along now, we’re burning precious daylight.”

  “Like I said, I can’t. I don’t know how.”

  Amazing Man shook his head at me.

  “There is no can’t. ‘Can’t’ isn’t a word that should be in a Meta’s vocabulary. There is only willingness to do something, or not to do something.” That was eerily similar to something Dad always said. Also, it sounded like something Yoda said in The Empire Strikes Back. I guessed that meant I was Luke Skywalker. And here I stood like an idiot, fresh out of lightsabers.

  I was not too thrilled about the idea of using my powers again, even if it was legally allowed. The last time I had used them, it had not worked out so well for me. Besides, I did not want to get accustomed to using them. Being a Metahuman was dangerous. Avatar’s death had reminded everyone of that. If I could turn my powers off forever and forget I had them, I would have rushed to flick the switch.

  On the other hand, it was hot, I was hungry and thirsty, and I was heartily sick of digging potatoes. Maybe using my powers would speed up the process of me finishing. Plus, though I had no interest in being a Hero, when one like Amazing Man came along and asked you to do something, I was inclined to do it. Saying no would be like saying no to a professor or a cop. A cop who could grind you to powder between his thumb and forefinger.

  “Okay,” I finally said doubtfully, feeling just as doubtful. “I’ll try.”

  I looked down at my gloved hands. The faint waves of energy that had been rippling out from them ever since my run-in with the Three Horsemen was still there, even though the thick gloves. The pain I had felt was totally gone, though. I pulled the gloves off and dropped them on the ground. I extended my hands straight out in front of myself towards the plants like a zombie. I felt as foolish as I no doubt looked. I waited expectantly.

  Nothing happened.

  I waited some more.

  Even more nothing happened.

  Maybe I needed to say something to trigger my powers, like some superheroes needed to in comic books. I thought of trying “Shazam!” or “Flame on!” or “It’s clobberin’ time!” but none of those catchphrases seemed terribly applicable. Besides, I did not want to embarrass myself further in front of Amazing Man.

  I looked intently at the stubbornly unmoving potato plants. I waggled my fingers a little at them. Still nothing.

  Amazing Man watched me throughout this. “You’re not performing a magic trick,” he said finally. “You don’t just wave a magic wand over something and expect things to happen. You’ve got to concentrate, to will what you want to happen to happen. You have the power to do it, you just have to learn to draw on it. Think of it like water at the bottom of a well—to get to it, you have to prime the pump first.”

  “How do I do that?”

  “Honestly, I’m not sure. Every Meta is a little different,” Amazing Man said. “What was g
oing on in your head the first time you used your powers?”

  I thought about the incident with the Three Horsemen. I remembered having a clear picture in my head of throwing the three guys off of me before my powers kicked in and did it. I told Amazing Man.

  “All right, then do that again. Form a clear picture in your mind of pulling the potatoes and the plants out of the ground. Once you have that picture firmly in your imagination, will it to happen. Don’t try to pull up a bunch of plants at once. Just try it on one plant first. You have to learn to walk before you can run.”

  Still dubious, I tried again. This time I focused solely on the potato plant closest to me. I visualized in my mind what it felt like to pull the plant out of the ground with all of the sweet potatoes buried underground still attached to the root.

  At first, exactly nothing happened. Then, the more I concentrated and visualized, my hands started to tingle, and then to burn. Encouraged, I concentrated even harder. The plant I focused on started to quiver, like it was being blown by the wind. I swore I could feel dirt, potatoes, and the plant’s stem in my hands. My hands felt like they had been set on fire. Suddenly the potato plant lifted up from the ground, bringing all of the potatoes attached to its roots with it. The plant rose up in the air until it was level with my outstretched hands. It floated in front of me like a tethered balloon.

  “I did it!” I said to Amazing Man. I was amazed at myself. I felt myself grinning like an idiot. I was sweating, but not just from the heat. Though I had barely moved, using my powers had been an act of both focus and physical exertion, like trying to solve a difficult puzzle while running on a treadmill.

  “That’s a good first step,” Amazing Man said. “Now, try to separate the potatoes from the plant.”

  I concentrated again, visualizing clearly what I wanted to happen. The potatoes that were unblemished and of the right size I pulled off the plant. I floated them into the bucket of potatoes Dad would sell. The marred and small ones I put into the reject bucket with my powers. With each potato, it got easier and easier. Using my powers seemed to be like learning to type—it seemed impossible at first, but once you got the hang of it, you marveled there was ever a time you thought it was impossible.

  Enthused despite how much effort pulling up the first plant had taken, I turned to the next plants in the row. Could I do two this time? I tried it, going through the same visualization and concentration process I had gone through the first time. This time the two plants came out of the ground without hesitation. I pulled the potatoes off of them, sorting them into the appropriate buckets faster and with a surer touch than I had the first time. Sweet! I was getting better. I felt like Mickey Mouse in The Sorcerer’s Apprentice from Fantasia, using magic to get his work done.

  Less than an hour later, I was exhausted, but more pleased with myself than I could remember ever being. With Amazing Man standing next to me, I looked around in satisfaction. The field was now empty except for buckets full of potatoes. I had dug up all the potatoes with my powers. It would have taken me days to do it by hand.

  “Not bad,” Amazing Man said. “I have to admit that you catch on pretty quick. Now let’s see you fly.”

  “Fly?” I said, confused. “I can’t fly.”

  Amazing Man looked down at me. He seemed incredulous. “You’re an Omega-level telekinetic. Of course you can fly.”

  “Wait, that’s not the first time you mentioned I’m an Omega. How did you know about that? For that matter, you never told me how you even knew I had powers.”

  “Never mind how I know. I just know. Just like I know that you can fly. So fly.”

  I shook my head. Even though this was a world-famous Hero, I was starting to get exasperated with him.

  “I’m telling you I can’t fly. Don’t you think I’d know if I could?”

  Amazing Man shook his head right back at me.

  “Didn’t I tell you you have to erase the word ‘can’t’ from your vocabulary? In the time you’re taking to tell me how you can’t do something, you could instead be figuring out how to do that something.”

  “Does it look like I have wings? I can’t fly,” I said stubbornly.

  Amazing Man sighed.

  “You know what I told my goddaughter when she told me she couldn’t swim?” he asked. I said no. “I told her she could swim, but that she just hadn’t swum yet. Then I picked her up and threw her into a lake.” Moving as fast as a striking snake, Amazing Man grabbed me by my shirt. He pulled me up off my feet until I was eye level with him. His steel-grey eyes bore into mine. “Now go fly.” He twisted. He flung me into the air like I was a baseball.

  I rose like a rocket. My hat flew off my head. I heard screaming. I realized it was me.

  Screaming seemed like a pretty good idea right now.

  CHAPTER 6

  The wind whistled in my ears. My body twisted around as I rose, making me dizzy. The cloudless blue sky looked like an endless sea of water that would swallow me whole. The ground receded beneath me like I was in an airplane that had taken off.

  The problem was I was not in a plane. A plane meant there would be tons of metal and plastic around me, all kinds of safety precautions and emergency regulations, and a well-trained pilot and co-pilot who knew what they were doing. There was no cocoon of technology around me, nor a flight crew who knew how to use it. There was only me.

  No, scratch that. There was also Amazing Man. He was a Hero. There was no way he would let me plummet to my death. Because that was what I was doing now. Plummeting. I had reached the apogee of my rise, and I was now falling back towards the spinning ground far below. I knew the word apogee, but not how to fly. They taught me vocabulary in school, not how to defy gravity.

  Though I looked for him like a drowning man looking for a life raft, I did not see Amazing Man anywhere. It was hard to see clearly with the rushing wind stinging my eyes, the spinning, and the panicking. Especially the panicking. But, I was sure Amazing Man would save me. That’s what Heroes did—they saved people. The thought calmed me for a moment. The calm soon frayed, and then completely got blown away by the roaring wind.

  Uh, Amazing Man? I thought, willing him to appear. Nothing happened, and no one appeared.

  Any time now, Amazing Man. The ground got closer.

  This is not funny anymore, Amazing Man.

  I really could use a hand here, Amazing Man.

  I’m about to go splat, Amazing Man.

  “HELP ME AMAZING MAN!” I shrieked. If he could hear me, he did not demonstrate it by showing up to save me. Meanwhile, the ground grew chest-tighteningly closer, seemingly eager to enfold me in its deadly embrace.

  God helps those who help themselves, came a Jamesism spontaneously into my head. What a time for a cliché. On the other hand, Amazing Man was still nowhere to be seen. If I did not save myself from the bloodiest pancake impersonation ever, who would? On the other other hand, just because my powers worked on meathead football players and potato plants, that did not also mean they would also work on my own body. No, that was the wrong attitude to have. My powers would work on myself because, well, they just had to. Otherwise, bye-bye Theodore Conley. Do not pass Go, do not lose your virginity, do not collect two hundred dollars. A shame. That two hundred would have come in handy in hiring a hooker so I wouldn’t die a virgin.

  Besides, like Amazing Man said, you’re an Omega-level Metahuman, I thought fiercely. You got this. My inspirational pep talk to myself would have been more believable had I not still been screaming my fool head off.

  With an effort, I stopped screaming. It was serving no purpose other than to make my throat sore. You got this, you got this, you got this, I repeated to myself like a mantra. Okay, visualize stopping yourself from falling. At the last moment I realized that I did not want to come to an abrupt stop. I remembered my high school physics. Isaac Newton’s law of inertia said that an object in motion stayed in motion with the same speed and in the same direction. Bringing my body to an abrupt stop would
be like hitting a brick wall in a car going sixty miles an hour while not wearing a seatbelt—yeah the car would stop, but the driver would keep going at the same speed and in the same direction, namely through the windshield at sixty miles an hour. If I brought my body to a sudden stop at this speed, maybe my brain and other internal organs would just keep going. My organs would suddenly be like pâté inside my body. Or not. I just didn’t know. I never had to stop myself from dying after being thrown into the air by a costumed lunatic before. But, better safe than sorry. Despite the fact I was approaching the ground at a sickening speed, I needed to slow myself gradually, not to stop abruptly.

  With the image of me slowing down gradually firmly in mind, I concentrated hard. My hands burned. I felt myself slowing. I also saw myself spinning closer and closer to the Earth. Amazing Man had apparently thrown me so far that I was coming down on the neighbor’s property. Mr. Gonzalez was a farmer too. His cornfield was below me. Cornstalks that looked like sharpened spears were beneath me, getting bigger by the second. I resisted the urge to freak out and bring myself to an abrupt halt. I continued to slow myself down gradually. Oh no! I was about to hit. Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God! My hands were on fire. Maybe the rest of me would soon be on fire too if I went to the wrong place. Heaven was promised to no one. I wondered, not for the first time, if Mom was there, waiting for me.

  I squeezed my eyes tightly shut. I braced for the impact.

  I wondered how much it would hurt.

  CHAPTER 7

  Weird. It turned out that dying didn’t hurt at all. No, that’s not quite right. My hands hurt. They were on fire just like they had been after I tossed the Three Horsemen around.

  Whoever heard of just your hands hurting after you died? Could it be I was not dead? It was dark. That was not a good sign. Graves were dark. No, wait. My eyes were closed. Maybe that was why it was dark. I opened them a crack, afraid of what I might see.

  I peeked down at tall cornstalks. I opened my eyes wider. Silk hung from the ears of the attached corn like topknots. The stalks swayed gently in the breeze for as far as my eyes could see. I was hovering mere inches from them, suspended in the air like an acrobat in a circus.