Encrypted

by Weaver, Nicole

  Positioned nearest the main gate, and considered an additional line of defense, sat Starstuff's three story building. Inside the recreation room on the first floor, a muscled Hero pointed out of a tinted and bulletproof window. "Guys, we don't have much time. He's here."

  Outside, a red SUV slid to a halt. Chief Bryant and his son climbed out.

  The Hero in the rec room, his pale skin peeling and reddened around his unmasked face, wore a black dress shirt, black khaki pants, and a heavy brown utility belt angled across his chest. His golden mask hung off his waist, modeled and highlighted after a grinning Greek comedy prop. "C'mon, you know it will be hilarious. No trauma for the poor kid and everyone gets dinner on my dime if he catches on."

  A Hispanic woman in her late twenties lounged on the couch, wearing a light blue bodysuit fringed with white feathers. Her leathery wings were spread out to either side of her. "Scaleface knows this is one of your tricks, Sucker. Give up, no one's buying it." She went back to preening the long feathers of her costume.

  "Whose side are you on Neph?" He glanced back to the taller man he had been arguing with. "C'mon Scaleface, it will be fun."

  The Black man he spoke to wore reinforced pants and a heavy leather shirt, each covered in hand stitched cobalt blue scales. Heavy gloves were tucked behind his belt and a pair of combat boots completed the look; everything colored a vivid cobalt blue. He stared down the Hero by the window. "Suckerpunch, you’d better not chase off a prospective teammate or the higher-ups are going to stick you in Arbor City permanently. I don't think any of us would be happy with that."

  "I know, boss, I know. You want me off probation as badly as I want off probation. I'll be careful, honest," Suckerpunch saluted his boss like a scoutmaster.

  Scaleface laughed. "Fine, but it has to be six. If he calls you on it before you get in every meow, then you buy all of us something healthy for dinner. If you get all six out before he protests, then we buy whatever you want for dinner."

  "Yes!" Suckerpunch slipped on his grinning golden mask and charged through the door, skipping like a kid with the hall pass.

  A massive black Mohawk led the way out of the kitchen, attached to a tiny pale woman in a Voltaire t-shirt and shredded jeans. Clutching a massive bowl of popcorn with both arms, she took a running leap over the back of the couch to land in front of the 60-inch television screen. Popcorn splashed into a tidal wave that stuck to the Hispanic woman's feathers.

  "Damn it Cherrybomb, I just cleaned myself," Nephilim complained.

  "Bah, it's just butter Neph, and I'm sure you can find someone to lick it off if you use your power. Besides, aren't your feathers supposed to be waterproof? This is way more important than oily feathers and you know Sucker won't disappoint."

  Nephilim let out a long-suffering sigh. "I am not a duck."

  The screen flickered on, revealing three security feeds, one each of the front entrance, the main hallway, and a conference room.

  ****

  Suckerpunch patiently waited his turn shoulder-to-shoulder with a larger man wearing camo tactical gear, black gloves, and a featureless brown mask that covered his face.

  The tactically dressed Prime offered a firm handshake to the nervous young man who had just come into the building, Trevor Bryant.

  Trevor shook the offered hand quickly and let go.

  "Hello. You are Trevor Bryant. I am Infiltrate, and I run security here." Infiltrate gestured towards the other Hero. "This is Suckerpunch, he will be your liaison from Starstuff during the interview process. Please come this way."

  A short distance down the hall, he opened a conference room door and ushered them both inside before returning to his duties.

  Suckerpunch spoke as soon as they were alone. "Sorry about Infiltrate. He spends so much time with his drones that he forgets to talk like a real person." He held out a hand. "It's nice to meet you, Trevor."

  "Likewise. I never thought I'd be trying out for a team someday." Trevor laughed uncertainly. "Well, a Hero team at least."

  "Everyone is nervous at first, but the most important step of being a Hero is realizing that you need a team. So many never do. The stories paint us like gods living on Mount Olympus, but we are just regular people, more of a family really, trying to keep everyone safe despite themselves." The Hero's voice matched the jovial grin painted onto his mask.

  Trevor took a seat at the foot of the table.

  Suckerpunch lowered himself into a chair on the opposite side, revealing a large file folder he had been holding behind his back. He dumped the contents out in complete disarray. Step one: Distract.

  He picked up the first page and set it neatly face down, the start of a pile. "It looks like there’s a lot here. Why don't you tell me about your adventure today while I organize these?"

  Step two: bait the hook with anticipation, and irritation. The rasping of paper on paper filled the room as Suckerpunch haphazardly pushed the pages together, pulling twisted or bent pages out and re-inserting them.

  Trevor swallowed. "It was a pretty normal day until last period. Then my ex Sam and—"

  Suckerpunch jumped in. "Whoa there kid, major whoa. We do not need to know about your ex-life, your sex-life, or anything in between. Let’s keep it strictly professional. Meow, just skip to where the bus caught on fire." Lucky for this guy I'm running the interview. Scaleface would have let him talk and still handed his meticulous notes over to the PCA. It's not a big deal, but non-standard dating preferences should be his to reveal, or not reveal, to the team.

  "Sorry Sir," Trevor swallowed again.

  "It's fine, and no need to call me sir. I only escaped high school hell myself last year." Suckerpunch gestured for him to continue. "Meow, please go on."

  "Um, okay, so I was watching out the window and saw Scorch clock that lady with some kind of club, though I didn't realize who he was until the fires started. She didn't go down though, and the smoke was too thick to see what was going on for a bit. The bus got pretty warm, but the windows held, and no one was hurt beyond some smoke inhalation." Trevor spoke fast, as if he was worried he would say the wrong thing. "While the Primes were busy, Sam and I organized the kids and got them out of there."

  Suckerpunch nodded. Holy crap kid, only you could make a daring escape and a near death experience sound boring.

  Trevor cleared his throat. "I want to point out the only reason the bus held up so well is that my dad had the entire bus fleet retrofitted with fireproof glass and reinforced outer shells." The kid trailed off, staring at the table.

  Suckerpunch idly scratched the burn on his neck until the kid squirmed a little in his seat. "Yes, yes, that matches the report you gave earlier today, and we are aware who your dad is. He is an asset to the city, blah, blah, blah. Meow, tell me more about how you saved the bus driver. She survived extensive wounds that would normally be fatal, but the report says you insisted you are not a healer?" Suckerpunch rasped more paper together in his hands, a second pile taking shape.

  Trevor blinked and wiped a few drops of sweat from his forehead before continuing. "No, Sir, I am not a healer. After the students were safe, I went back for Miss Clarke. She was in bad shape, so I kept her stable until the police arrived."

  Wiping his forehead again, this time with his sleeve, he continued, "Sam decided to go home, so I stayed and gave my statement when you guys arrived. I talked to the purple guy, uh, Scaleface I think. I've only seen him in his combat form on the news, so I'm not certain it was him."

  The table creaked as Suckerpunch leaned forward. "That's the boss all right. He mentioned you as well. I understand you were the only Prime involved who wasn't a Villain, so for meow we will stick with you and your abilities."

  A note of pride slipped into the kid's voice. "Yes Sir. My father has been training me extensively while we waited for this meeting."

  Step three: set the hook with a bit of excitement. How will the kid react? "Excellent. The team tells me they are impressed by how you stayed cool under pressure and
it doesn't hurt that healing powers are fairly rare. With your father's recommendation and our report, the PCA has given Starstuff approval to recruit you."

  He paused, adjusting his weight in the creaking chair. "I noticed your Manifestation date is less than a month old. Congratulations on your survival; so many don't make it." He briskly wiped away a tear. Rest in peace Maxine.

  "I was lucky, Sir." Trevor cleared his throat. "My first day was pretty smooth, and there haven't been any overloads."

  "Great. If this interview goes well, and you accept our offer, we can guarantee a shortened testing period. Do you feel okay with sharing right meow how your power works? It won't be official, but it will help us in determining your future position on the team."

  Trevor twitched a little at that. "Well, I haven't been able to run too many experiments, but when I use it on myself it, it makes me tougher. Like tough enough to punch through concrete and not hurt my hand. I was hoping it would help Miss Clarke hold it together until Emergency Services could arrive. I'm just glad she made it." He glanced at the three haphazard paperwork stacks threatening to spill back across the table. "I think it reinforces a person's attributes, like speed or strength."

  Step four: wear them out with a bigger distraction. "Adaptable, brave, decisive. You are going to be perfect for the team." Suckerpunch pushed the two piles of the paperwork into a single rough pile and leaned his muscled bulk into his seat, bending the chair further than it was meant to go.

  The wooden chair didn't creak this time, it shattered. Paperwork shot into the air and rained down like confetti, while he did his very best beached seal impression from the floor. So sad, you would think they would make sturdier chairs for Heroes. If I had any dignity, I would be totally offended.

  Trevor hurried over to help him up, while the Hero made honking noises and kicked his feet helplessly. Trevor stopped and stared.

  Suckerpunch's squeaks and squeals continued.

  The teenager backed away, hands out in front of him. "Are you making seal noises at me?" He stopped with the table between them.

  Ha. Kid thinks I'm crazy. I mean, he's not entirely wrong.

  Suckerpunch sneezed into the few papers he still had in his hands, scattering them. "Of course not. That would be immature and unbecoming a Hero. The PCA should be ashamed of themselves, issuing such poorly made chairs. Meow sit back down and I will stand while we conclude this interview." Step five: reel them in with the threat of being cheated and the excitement of winning. Come on kid, don't fail me now.

  "Um, this is an advertisement for dance lessons and that one is for sign language classes." Trevor held up a few loose pages from the floor. "You've been meowing at me, making seal noises and this paperwork has nothing to do with me. Who are you really?"

  The Hero coughed and struck as dignified a pose as he could on his back among the tornado of papers. "Wow, you aren't even a recruit yet and here you are already challenging my authority. You need to listen to me right meow—."

  The conference room door slammed open and Scaleface barged in, his cobalt blue dragon mask firmly in place.

  Everyone froze.

  Scaleface spoke first. "That's enough Suckerpunch, you know you already lost this fair and square. The kid caught on before you finished. You might have won if you hadn't gone for the wounded seal routine, but you can't help yourself."

  He was followed into the room by the winged Hispanic woman who was now wearing a white masquerade mask, fringed with white feathers that perfectly matched the feathers lining her costume. Her large leathery wings were neatly folded against her back, and the splayed claws of her bare feet clicked against the tile floor.

  Cherrybomb ducked through the door next, running a light hand across her Mohawk to make sure it was still in place. Random pieces of popcorn sat nestled among the spikes on her leather jacket and a black and gold starburst bandanna covered the bottom half of her face.

  All three smiled widely enough to be seen behind their masks.

  Scaleface waved at the other Heroes. "This is team Starstuff, and Suckerpunch is, unfortunately, one of us." He grinned. "He is also a practical joker and all-around pain in the butt. He bet us dinner that he could pull off some joke he saw in a movie; we bet him that you would catch on before he finished."

  "I won." Suckerpunch protested. "The kid had no idea what was going on until you barged in—"

  Everyone ignored him.

  "You handled yourself well, and you beat him," Scaleface said. "If you can deal with Suckerpunch, the rest of us are a breeze."

  The friendly Hispanic woman waved her clawed hands for attention. "Hey Mr. Team Leader Sir, stop being a douche and introduce the rest of us." She smiled affectionately, then stepped close to Trevor and held out a delicately clawed, hand. "Hello, I am Nephilim. I make friends with everyone, which is technically a form of Telepathy, which gives me some resistance to other Telepaths. The punk is Cherrybomb, a ranged Kinetic. Our resident big guy is Scaleface, he's an Aerokinetic with an aesthetic." She pointed a razor tipped wing at each in turn.

  "What about me?" Suckerpunch winked at Trevor.

  She rolled her eyes. "Your main power is practical jokes, but officially you are a Biokinetic with enhanced durability and strength."

  "What about my vast intelligence? That's a power too." Plus, my dashing good looks are considered super by some.

  She smiled again. "I'm sure you think so."

  "Hey!" Suckerpunch clutched his chest as if wounded.

  Everyone laughed.

  Scaleface bent over to pick up a few loose bits of paper, then faced Trevor. "Well kid, you are in luck. We have an open slot, and your dad pulled some strings to expedite the process. If you say yes, you are on the team."

  He held up a hand as Trevor tried to speak. "You don't have to choose now. You can hang out with us and get some of your questions answered before you make such a big decision."

  Trevor glanced at each of them, then dropped into a chair without speaking. He put his face in his hands.

  Scaleface cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, a tiny bit sorry, about turning Suckerpunch loose on you. This interview wasn't really necessary because we already have the scene report of your conduct and the training file Chief Bryant sent over." He paused, but no one else filled the silence. "Mostly, I think it's important to meet the more colorful members of a team so you know what you are getting into. Suckerpunch is about as colorful as you can get, so I sometimes let him play a bit with potential recruits."

  They exchanged worried looks over Trevor's bowed head.

  Trevor finally looked up; his eyes wet with moisture.

  Scaleface's voice wavered. "I hope you are still interested?" He glared over at his friend, who made a 'who-me' gesture.

  It's not my fault if the kid has a thin skin. Villains are going to do a lot worse than meow at him. Best to know ahead of time if he can't take it.

  Trevor stared back and forth between Scaleface and Suckerpunch.

  Er, I hope I didn't pour it on too thick. I guess the kid has seen a lot today.

  Trevor suddenly doubled over laughing, more tears streaming down his face. "You guys are fricken awesome. I am so in."

  Cherrybomb let out a cheer.

  "All right, all right, you had me going there kid, good work." Suckerpunch's bass laugh joined Trevor's. "As for the bet, I lost, so let’s go get some cheeseburgers; my treat." No one protested. Final step: secure victory. In all the drama, Scaleface forgot we agreed not to do fast food, again.

  Nephilim caught Suckerpunch’s eye and sauntered out of the room.

  Chapter 13

  Friday May 21st, 2010

  "Honey, wake up, we need to talk." Mildred's soft voice woke Samantha.

  She groaned and burrowed deeper into the pillows.

  "I'm worried about you. You've been sneaking around and breaking rules. Jon is getting angry." She peeled back the comforter to sit on the bed. "You have to stop before you make him punish you."

  All he
r sleepy warm feelings burned away in a blast of rage. "Make him punish me? Make him scream at me and break my stuff? Make him send me to a man I detest for obedience training? What is wrong with you?"

  Mildred's weight pressed down on the remaining sheet, trapping her.

  "Calm down honey," Mildred said. "You aren't being trained; you just have trouble listening. Dr. Darkle is helping you through this phase of growing up, and you adore him after every visit. I don't know why you are so down on him."

  "He is weird, he touches my head, and all of you treat me like a pet. I'm almost 18 and I don't need to learn how to obey, I need to learn how to be my own person," Samantha said.

  "Honey, he isn't touching you in a bad way, it's just tactile therapy, and everyone has someone they have to listen to." Mildred smiled fondly. "Even adults have bosses and the government, besides, you aren't moving out for a long time. At least not until Jon and I have helped you see how wrong your parents were to do what they did to you."

  "You used to be on my side." Samantha rolled her eyes hard enough it hurt. "Now you tell me my life is a lie and my ultimate fate is death and taxes. Totally the conversation I was looking forward to this morning. Could we save the part about the eventual death of the universe until after dinner?"

  "I'm trying to protect you. Please take this seriously and don't push Jon right now. The Prime Research Facility burned down on his watch and he's under a lot of pressure to make sure it's rebuilt without any problems. Now is not the time to rely on his good nature to keep you from getting spanked."

  Samantha snorted. "Spanked huh? Maybe spanked in the face."

  Mildred sighed. "I don't know why you have to fight so hard when we are only trying to help you."

  "This isn't help. It's asserting control," Samantha replied.

  Suddenly fierce, her foster mother waved her finger under Samantha's nose. "I stayed quiet when you turned your shoes pink. I didn't tell Jon when I caught you sneaking around, and I defended you while you constantly argue with us, but now I draw the line. After speaking with Kevin, I see I was enabling you to refuse treatment for your delusions."