by Adam Graham
Powerhouse snorted. “Big comfort.”
The Pharaoh pushed the mute button. “I’m sure you can handle if there’s any problems, Dr. Fournier.”
“Are you going to watch?”
“No, I’m going down the hall and have a scotch or two.”
“But this is science! This could inaugurate a whole new age of warfare.”
When the Rezellians take over, warfare’s age will finally come to an end. “You see to it. Let me know if your experiment is a success.”
“Absolutely!”
Powerhouse closed his eyes. Lord, please show me what to do. I want to see Naomi and the kids again.
Was there any passive resistance that could work, sans honor among thieves and handy fifty foot robots?
The force field moved within inches of his skin.
What would happen to this force field, if it met another force field?
It couldn’t make things any worse. Powerhouse imagined a form-fitting force field like the one closing on him surrounding his body. He relaxed.
The Pharaoh’s force field moved steadily closer to him.
Closer.
Contact.
The criminals’ force field shorted out. Flames burst out twenty yards ahead of him as the force field generator blew up.
The invisible assailant burst into a fireball just like Tony Silvano had. Tony screamed and dashed off a few yards before he stopped, dropped, and rolled.
Powerhouse superimagined a burst of fire retardant hitting the fool kid. The oldest Silvano kid was maybe five years older than his firstborn. “Now to get you to a hospital and call the police. Then I think I’ll head home.”
Tony cried out around his screams, “Thanks for sharing!”
Powerhouse grunted. “Next time, I’ll do it as a thought bubble, but you’ll be lucky if you live long enough to tell anyone, Tony.”
The Pharaoh sat in the dimly break room. There was an illegal cigarette machine in the corner, along with a pool table. The Pharaoh sipped his scotch.
Fournier stalked in with his shoulders hunched, his lips pressed together, his nose wrinkled up, and his brow furrowed.
Uh-oh. The Pharaoh grunted. “Don’t tell me. Your effort failed.”
“Not at all. ‘In science, there’s no such thing as a failed experiment,’ Adam Savage, Mythbusters. We got valid data with a clear result, so it’s a valid test.”
“Okay.” The Pharaoh laughed. “In what way did your successful experiment fail to produce the results that I wanted?”
“The force field will work against ordinary human targets, but it can’t be used against Powerhouse. A surge of energy from within him created a personal force field. Our force field hit his force field and the power overwhelmed the generator.” Fournier adjusted his glasses. “Even if he hadn’t created a personal force field around himself, I’m not certain we would have gotten him.”
“You think a larger or more powerful force field generator would help?”
Fournier shook his head. “If you could get your interdimensional friends to give us some special power source, maybe. In terms of Earth power sources, though, what I’ve built is as large and powerful as is practical.”
“I see.” Pharaoh stroked his chin. “We’re going to have to fight this another way. We’ve been playing his game, on his turf, by his rules. He clearly can’t be defeated on those terms. We got to make him fight on mine.”
“What do you mean?”
“The media, the press, the written word, that’s where my advantage is. A dimwit like Powerhouse won’t stand a chance against me at game, on my turf, on my rules.”
“Sir, what about me?”
Farrow waved it away. “You won’t have much to do with this, but I’ll keep you on retainer. You might come in handy.”
Dave Johnson sat at the dining room table with his family. The table was new with four new oak chairs. He rolled the dice. He moved his silver car token to Broadway and stared up at the red hotel.
James grinned and held his hand out. “That’ll be two grand, Dad.”
Dave counted his money. “I only have $1400 and I mortgaged all my properties.”
“Then you’re bankrupt.”
“You’d bankrupt your own father?” Dave pressed his right hand over his heart, his eyes wide and his mouth in an o-shape.
James rolled his eyes and snorted. “D-dad, it’s j-j-just a game.”
“Well, I suppose the important thing is we did something as a family. Something we can always remember each other by, if something happens.”
James glanced from side to side. “Uh, yeah. Sure, Dad.”
Frowning, Derrick nodded. “Yeah, Dad. Don’t be weird about it.”
“I could’ve gotten killed, but I can’t stop being Powerhouse. You understand?”
“They threw their worst at you and you beat it.” Derrick pointed at a comic book cover leaning against the couch. “It’s like your new comic says, you’re ‘The Indestructible Powerhouse.’”
“Undefeated and hard to kill, sure, but I’m not indestructible.” He glanced at the wall clock. “You should’ve done your homework hours ago. Finish it and get to bed.”
The boys nodded and headed down the hall toward their room. The door closed.
Smiling, Naomi collected the board game pieces back into the box. “This went better than last time they tried that.”
“The boys?”
“Them, too.” Naomi met his gaze. “This wasn’t you and the Silvano boy all over again, honey. Yes, your new would-be assassin got third degree burns, too, but he’ll live to do a stretch for attempted murder.”
Dave sighed. “There’s that, but I’m not indestructible.”
“Yes, I’m glad you corrected the boys on that. I worry about you, but I’d worry more about you if you were cooped up around the house. You got to do what you were made to do or be miserable. Still, have you ever thought of getting a partner?”
An image of Robin from the 1950s popped up in Dave’s mind with a thought bubble over his head. “Holy guacamole, Batman!”
Oh please. Dave rolled his eyes. “Maybe a sidekick could’ve helped the Emerald Avenger lighten up, but Powerhouse hardly needs it.”
“No, I mean an equal you could share your adventures with. Someone who had superpowers that rivaled yours and would be serious help to you.”
“Not everyone can be a superhero. Besides, where would they get superpowers?”
“Duh.” Naomi laughed, touching her left arm for some reason. “We’ve got a whole box under the bed of alien, superpower-granting arm cuffs.”
She must be timidly trying to volunteer. Dave folded his arms and scowled. “No way. I don’t want you to take on those powers.”
Naomi put her hands on her hips. “You don’t think a woman can be a superhero?”
I think I want to protect the woman I love, not put her in harm’s way, but that will probably be deemed sexist, too. “Who did I leave in charge of the city when we went to Disneyland? A woman can be anything she wants. She can even be a superhero, as long as she’s not a Marvel character. Well, unless she’s an X-man or Spider-Man’s daughter.”
“How progressive of you. Why not me?”
Dave sighed. “If I ever have to make the ultimate sacrifice in the line of duty, I’d like the boys to have one parent left.”
Naomi grimaced. “And? What else don’t I have?”
What’s with her? “Honey, a superhero has to be daring.”
“I’ll have you know, I . . .” She bit her tongue. “I went to Baskin-Robbins and got mint chocolate chip rather than butter pecan last week.”
Dave rolled his eyes. “Do you really want to be a superhero?”
Naomi wrinkled her brow. “That’d be silly. I just don’t want you out there alone.”
“Ask God to send me one. Who knows? We might have a radioactive meltdown at a laboratory that creates a mutant who would make the perfect sidekick.”
“We can only hope.
”
Naomi stopped in the laundry aisle at the grocery store and put a bottle of Tide in her cart. She sighed. Maybe Dave was right about her not being daring. She had the same superpowers as him and used them to play dress up and clean the house. And she’d accused him of being sexist. She was letting down women everywhere.
Another cart banged into hers. She covered her mouth. It must’ve been all her fault. “I’m sorry, I didn’t watch where I was going.”
“It’s quite all right.” A freckled, middle-aged man looked up at her. “It’s fancy running into you, Mrs. Johnson.”
Who was this? She blinked. A client from her old job. “Mr. Renfoe?”
“You remembered me.” He beamed.
“Of course, I was happy we could get you a good rate on the mortgage. How are you and your boys doing?”
He frowned. “We have a serious mold problem. I’ve already had Todd move in with my parents. His immune system can’t take that. His brother and I are going to be going next week. That realtor tricked us, and the home inspector missed it.”
Oh no. Naomi’s stomach sank. “But you worked so hard to get that house.”
“I’ll work harder to keep it while I’m trying to get rid of the mold.”
Naomi bit her lip. Maybe she could use the superpowers to help him. “I have a friend. You know I work for Powerhouse and there’s uh a—a superhero I know, and she fights.” She swallowed. “She fights mold.”
Renfoe raised his eyebrow. “A superhero who fights mold?”
“Evil comes in many forms.” Naomi shrugged. “Someone has to look out for the little guy and his ordinary problems.”
“That sounds kind of . . . boring.”
“Yeah, that’s why she doesn’t have her own comic book.” Naomi laughed. “She’s worth a try, though. If it doesn’t work, no harm done.”
“Uh-huh.” Renfoe folded his arms. “What does she charge?”
Naomi waved. “A superhero would never charge. If you want to show gratitude in a financial way, make a donation to your choice of charities in her name.”
“Send her over if you see her. I have to move out in the next couple of days.”
Now she’d have to figure out what to call her alter ego and what she’d look like and all that. “I got to get home. My husband will be home soon.”
She pushed her cart down the aisle. What should her creation look like? She glanced at her mid-thirties body with bulges in unsightly places that Dave insisted were hardly noticeable. Younger, obviously. A college-age girl who hadn’t given birth yet and still had a perfect figure—and long blond hair. She smiled. This would be fun.
Half an hour later, she carried two grocery bags in one hand as she strolled in her front door. The boys slouched on their blue living room couch, watching the latest cartoon incarnation of Batman.
In Dave’s chair sat a ship’s captain, from his uniform. Then again, he also had white hair and a beard. He stood and removed his cap. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Johnson.”
Naomi raised an eyebrow. “Who is he?”
Derrick shrugged. “He said he was a friend of Dad’s and he was in the house, so I thought you and Dad would know him. Don’t you?”
“No.” Naomi glowered at the evil man who’d conned her babies to gain access to them. She dropped her bags on the floor. “If I determine you’ve laid your filthy hands on my sons, I swear you’ll be dead before the police can get here to arrest you.”
“Forgive my unexpected intrusion into your domicile in your absence. I won’t harm Dave’s boys, my lady.” Sea Captain bowed to her and then smiled at her precious baby boys. “This is the first time I’ve had the pleasure of meeting your mom. Have you guys ever been to Donatello’s?”
Derrick glanced to her and to the floor. “I don’t think so.”
“And you live in Bryerton? You got to go and taste it, kids. It’s the best Italian meal in Washington. I’ll buy. You can go and I’ll talk to your dad.”
Not buying it. Naomi cleared her throat and folded her arms. “Sir, who are you and what are you doing in my house?”
“I’m here to talk to your husband. I’m in disguise so that no one can recognize me. It’s necessary for my safety and for yours.”
The kitchen door banged in the distance. Dave strode into the living room in a red shirt and jeans. He stared hard at Sea Captain before gasping and arching both of his eyebrows. “Marco! What are you doing here in that silly disguise?”
What? Naomi swallowed and clenched her fists. “Oh, you wouldn’t hurt my babies, huh? Too late, mister! You nearly killed James! My husband, too!”
Marco slapped his palm to his face. “Hey, a little louder, lady. You want to make sure the hoods in Tacoma hear you and take care of killing me for you.”
Why did Jesus have to say all the stuff about forgiveness? She’d rather get her gun out and shoot this jerk. Naomi put her hands on her hips and glowered at her husband. “What is he doing here?”
“Under a white flag.” Marco extended his hand, palm facing out. “I have an important message to share with the big guy here. You should go to Donatello’s.”
Dave stared him up and down. “Go eat, honey. We’ll be fine.”
Marco extended a fifty dollar bill.
Naomi growled and slapped it away. “I wouldn’t take your money, ever.” He had some nerve showing up after what he did. “Come on, boys.”
“Second.” Derrick stared at Marco like he would an actor who played a villain in his favorite superhero movie. “Marco, as in the crime lord?”‘
“Former crime lord in the witness protection program, leading a new life that’s not supposed to include anyone from the old one. Please forget I was here.”
She’d best just get her boys to safety. The kids didn’t need to know Marco was behind the rotten things that happened last year. “I feel very sorry for your family. For the sake of the innocents you’ve dragged down with you, I will do my best to forget I ever laid eyes on you. So will the kids. Come on.”
She stomped out with the kids. Dave could handle the mobster turned sea captain.
Dave stared at his former archenemy. “How’d you get in?”
“Old habits die hard. You ought to get a home security system.”
“You mean a dog?”
“No, I mean a device that can’t be shut up by killing it.”
The minivan’s tires squealed as it tore out of the driveway.
Marco swallowed. “I’m sorry about everything. Let your wife know. I know my presence hurt her. That’s why I wanted to keep everything on the down low.”
Guess he’d need to get Naomi to go to the family therapist over this. He was too manly to need that stuff, but it helped her. “I forgave you for hurting James, Marco.”
“The kid seems to stutter a little.”
Yeah. Dave sighed. “We’re taking him to speech therapy but it’s tough. Still he’s doing far better than we’d hoped after the doctors told us about his brain injury.”
“Every time I go to mass and every morning, I pray for him.” Marco closed his eyes and shuddered. “The mob culture I come from, the conscience is a weakness, and religion a tool to turn to when it’s useful to your ends and ignore when it isn’t. Now that they ‘took me down’. . . it sickens me that I’d sank to the point where I worked it out in my head that it was somehow justified to send my thirteen-year-old to shoot an eleven-year-old kid. Don’t you ever get bitter. It’ll make you do horrible things.”
Zolgron came out from the kitchen. The alien stood seven feet tall wearing armor, a green cape and an apron. “You have a guest?”
Marco stepped sideways and leaned away from Zolgron. “Who’s the guy in the Halloween costume?”
Someone I need to talk about how obsessed he’s getting with gourmet cooking, if he was home and didn’t even hear you breaking and entering. “Zolgron, my current chef and former symbiote. He knows everything I do, so he’s okay.”
Marco cupped his hands together. �
�Obviously, I’m not exactly following the rules on keeping away from my old contacts. I am staying out of the rackets myself, but I got an email address that I use to keep up with old buddies, including some men now in the Pharaoh’s organization. They tell me the Pharaoh is shutting down nearly all of his operations and sending most of his people elsewhere.”
Yay. Powerhouse smiled. “That means we won.”
Marco laughed. “I knew you’d think that. Sorry, my dim knight. This only means the Pharaoh’s changing tactics. He’s gonna fight you in the press, with legal mumbo jumbo designed to scare people. The media is his favorite weapon, and he’ll use it to destroy you and everything you stand for.”
“What can the media do to a superhero?”
“Those guys can take one mistake, one statement, or even exaggerate something, and no one will take your word or actions as being worth anything.”
Uh-oh. “The only media I’ve got is my twelve-year-old’s blog.”
“That’s not good. You better get ready for war with this guy.”
Dave raised an eyebrow. “It seems like you know who the Pharaoh is.”
“I have my suspicions, as do most of my pals in his organization, but he thinks that incredibly obvious street name fools people.” Marco snorted. His eyes hardened and he poked Dave’s chest. “I’m not giving names. I’m just giving a warning. I owe you and the city that much. Pharaoh has taken over organized crime in Seattle, and he’s not like my old scene. We wanted money, power, and territory, but they were controlled by some bigger organization. To them what we wanted was only a means to an end.”
Zolgron smiled. “Did they just want to see the world burn?”
“No, comedian. I was of course used to our evil, but something about their evil chilled even my people. Well, save for the diagnosable psychos who knew I’d get them put in a straight jacket in a padded cell if they tore off my leash. Tangibly, there’s the way they run their organization. Some Corporations out there are fronts for organized crime, but this organization is run by the corporation for its own purposes.”
