“You pour wine down her throat when the heir to my throne rests within her womb?” Dominus Takahiro's machine spun around to face Magda. “Is your family so incompetent that they allow thousands to die in the American Republic, a domain that is a protected land inside the empire, while poisoning the body that holds my heir?”
Magda opened her mouth to speak, but closed it just as quickly, remaining calm and collected. She allowed for the insult in a practiced and steady reply, but Azakor did not.
“M'dom, I do believe you've forgotten who you're speaking to. This is the wife of your imperator, and you will show her the respect she deserves.”
Dominus Takahiro spun around to face Azakor, the skinny spider-like legs of his machine leaning the encased body closer to Azakor as he spoke. “Young man, I am showing her exactly the amount of respect she deserves.”
Magda saw Azakor's fist ball up tight, his forearm flexing, his bicep constricting. She had seen the same motion a thousand times from Vigo, and she knew a single hit from her son would decimate Dominus Takahiro. It would also be the catalyst to start the second Super Power War. She felt the scream coming up from her stomach, the shout for everyone to stop, to calm down, to think about what they were saying, but the scream did not come from her mouth.
It came from Sasha, right before she fell to the floor, her headdress crashing against the marble, scattering crystals across the great hall as she clutched her pregnant belly in agonizing pain.
22
ANDRE
Usually, he hated it when the guys who owed money to Bobby the Bull decided to run. Especially the guys that took to the rooftops and thought they could jump from one to the next. Andre either needed to save them, which put a wrench in his plans for intimidation, or they ended up split open on the sidewalk. Either way, it wasn't how Andre liked to end a job.
Yet there he was, chasing a guy across a rooftop, and Andre couldn't care less. Because soon Cleo would set him up with a real supervillain, he'd do whatever it took to prove himself, and then, who knows? Maybe he'd start a little criminal organization of his own. He could start small, a few henchmen to do his bidding, and grow it from there. Get a lair. Make a costume. Kidnap a scientist to build a doomsday device that would bring the city to its knees. Anything was possible, once he had the respect, once he made a name for himself. He just needed a chance. And Cleo was going to give him one.
Andre was lost in his daydreams when the guy he was chasing flung himself off the edge of the building. He was spinning his arms and legs in circles, trying to swim through the air to propel himself far enough across the alleyway to land on the adjacent building. He barely made it. His chest slammed into the wall of the building and he dug his fingers into the rooftop gravel. He scraped the toes of his shoes against the bricks, trying to climb up. By the time he managed to lift his weight over the edge and climb to his feet, Andre had already cleared the gap and was leisurely waiting for him. A single punch dropped the guy back down to his knees.
“I told you not to run, man. I told you.”
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Look, I'll do anything. Anything. Just please don't hurt me.”
“Pay me what you owe.”
The guy shook his head, gasping for air. “I can't.” But when Andre lifted his fist into the air, the guy held up his hand and said, “I can pay you on Friday! I get paid on Friday.”
Andre rolled his eyes and threw his hands up in the air. “Aw, man. Why do you people always wanna pay me on Friday. Do I look like I wanna come back here on Friday? No. I don't. I want the money now.”
The guy kept shaking his head. “I don't have it. I don't-”
“Then we have a problem. Don't we?”
“Please...”
Andre grabbed the guy's wrist and broke it with a slight pinch.
“Now, I'm gonna keep coming back here,” Andre said over the guy's screams of pain, “and I'm gonna keep hurting you. Do you understand that?”
The guy kept screaming, as if Andre would leave him alone if he cried enough. But Andre knew that wasn't how the world worked. No one left Andre alone when he cried. They just kept hitting him. All those “uncles” his mom brought home. They all thought it was pretty funny that they couldn't cut Andre's skin, that they could kick him without it leaving a bruise, and that he didn't flinch when they put out their cigarettes on his forehead.
Andre slapped the guy and a tooth went flying from his mouth, landing in the snow that covered the rooftop, leaving a small a pool of red surrounding it. “Pay me the money, man. You have until tomorrow. You don't pay me? I'll knock the rest of your teeth out.”
The guy laid in the snow, whimpering like an abused dog. Andre made his way over to the fire escape. When he climbed down to the street, the MajesTech mobile phone Victor had stolen buzzed in his pocket. He yanked it out of his jacket and looked down at the screen. It was a text message from Victor.
“Cleo wants to meet. Atomix.”
Andre knew the place. Another neighborhood bar. Lots of TVs and loud music. The kind of place Cleo wouldn't be caught dead in. He began jogging down the street, but his speed quickly built, whipping between the people on the sidewalk and leaping over someone's dog that was relieving itself on a fire hydrant. He was twelve blocks away, but it only took him a minute to reach the front door of Atomix.
Victor threw back the shot sitting in front of him on the bar and shoved his way through the crowd to get to Andre. “Bloody hell, mate. Ya look like death's chasin' ya through the door. What's wrong?”
“Where's Cleo?” Andre asked, then scanned the room until he saw her sitting alone at a table, looking uncomfortable in the midst of the bar's chaos.
Andre walked over and sat down at the table.
“Well, you're punctual, I'll give you that,” Cleo said with a smile and a raise of her pint glass.
Victor pulled out a chair next to Andre, but Cleo put out her hand and said with a glare, “Just him.”
Victor looked at both of them with confusion, then shrugged his shoulders and walked away. Andre wondered what other outcomes his psychic friend had seen.
“This doesn't seem like your kinda place.”
Cleo grabbed a handful of peanuts out of the bowl in front of her and tossed them in her mouth. “Only place left standing within walking distance of my apartment. My knees aren't what they used to be, kiddo.”
Andre nodded, waiting for her to start because he didn't have any idea how these things worked. Should they whisper? Do they go into a back room? Is there some kind of note passing system?
“We got a bite,” she said, grabbing another handful of peanuts. “I got in touch with an old friend. The kinda guy that's a work-for-hire, soldier-of-fortune type. He told me he's a little overwhelmed right now by all the job offers. With the Alliance spread thin in the city's rebuild, and the Zharkovs busy burying and crowning imperators, it's the perfect storm. Everyone's trying to pull off one thing or another.”
“Taking advantage of the tragedy?”
Cleo frowned and threw another handful of peanuts in her mouth. “You got a problem with that?”
“No. Not at all. It's smart.”
She studied him for a moment before she continued. “So my friend tells me he got hired to do a job by someone new. Someone with a lot of money. Which usually means he's legit, but my friend already has too much on his plate with his usual customers. So he's willing to hand it off to us.”
“Can he vouch for the client?”
“Nope. Like I said. New guy.”
“So he wants us to take the risk.”
“Hey, kiddo, beggars can't be choosers.”
Andre nodded, knowing he should be reluctant, or at least cautious, but his excitement got the better of him. “So what's the job?”
Cleo glanced around, then leaned over the table so she didn't have to speak so loudly. “So, during the Malignus attack, a bank was destroyed over in the Triangle District. Completely leveled. You wouldn't even know there used to be a bui
lding there. Thing is, the bank had an underground vault. It's where they kept their holdings of gold, silver, platinum, all the good stuff.”
“And the vault is still there?”
“Unguarded.”
Andre scrunched up his face, looking skeptical. “How can that be? In the Triangle District? They're just gonna leave all that sitting there?”
“Everyone is either taking out loans or draining their bank accounts to rebuild. The banks are stretched as thin as the Alliance. And this stuff is under a pile of rubble, inside a locked vault. As far as placing that on a list of priorities, if I was a bank, I'd put it on the bottom too.”
Andre shook his head back and forth like he was physically tossing the idea around. “Okay. But where does that leave me? You want me to head out with a shovel and start digging for treasure? Then when I find it I'll use my unknown power of opening vaults?”
Cleo chuckled. “You're funny, kiddo.”
“Great. Maybe I can joke the vault open.”
“Look, it's all in here.” She pulled a manila folder out from her giant purse and set it on the table. “Whoever the client is, they figured out exactly where the entrance to the basement is. So all you have to do is dig up a small amount of rubble and you're in. And according to these documents, the power is down on that block and the backup generator was destroyed. Which means no alarms.”
“I still have a few feet of steel to get through.”
Cleo leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. “I think we both know someone who could get you in there.”
Andre perked up, flashing a quizzical look at Cleo. Victor couldn't help. His powers wouldn't see far enough into the future to know if whatever combination he was guessing would be right. Wesley wouldn't be of any use. Mickey would barely be able to hold on to a shovel, much less break into a vault. And Carmen-
“Oh crap,” he said as the thought dawned on him.
“The power I saw that girl use could melt through that steel, no problem.”
“I know. I know. But I can't. She won't-”
“She needs to,” Cleo said. “It's the only way you're getting in. It's the only way I can assure my friend you can complete the job.”
Andre nodded his head, then stopped. “Wait. Who exactly are you hiring? Me? Or her?”
Cleo held up her hands. “Does it matter? I got you a job. A good job. A job that's going to pay you, your friend's debt, and with my cut, I build myself a new bar. I don't see the problem.”
“The problem is, without Carmen, I'm still just...”
Cleo shook her head. “You're looking at this all wrong, kiddo. You want to be some big, bad supervillain some day, right?”
Andre shrugged his shoulders. “I don't know if I'd say it like that.”
“Well, think about the greats. Some of the biggest, baddest supervillains there were. Now sure, you've got people like Terracore and Winter Woman and Sandstorm, but you're never going to be like them. Sorry to break it to you.”
“Yeah, I know. It's just-”
“No, kiddo. Listen to me. Because you have to think about the rest of the big names. Boss Lawless. Cortex. Hell, even Mastodon. Those guys might have some nice powers, but they didn't become greats by themselves. They lifted themselves up on the backs of others. Even your friend, Bobby the Bull. You think Pavement couldn't turn around and squish him like a bug? Of course he could. But Pavement doesn't have the ambition that Bobby has. Pavement doesn't want to be in charge. Pavement likes being told what to do.”
“You're telling me I need minions.”
Cleo laughed. “Now you're getting it. You don't need a super power when you can use someone else's super power.”
Andre stared down at the table, getting lost in the names and symbols and curse words scratched into the wood. His mind wandered, searching for answers to a thousand moral dilemmas. He wasn't sure if he felt worse about the idea of using Carmen for her super power, or pretending it was okay because this was all to help Victor. That's the argument he would make, he knew that, but he also knew that was all bullshit. He was doing this for himself. He was doing this to lift himself out of the henchman gutter that he was wallowing in. If he was going to rise up, he would have to show Cleo, this mysterious client, and whatever superheroes might challenge him in the future, just how good at being bad he could be.
Cleo slid the manila folder across the table and asked, “So what's it gonna be, kiddo? You in?”
23
LUCY
When the video ended, she laid back on her bed and let out a long sigh. She couldn't stop thinking about everything the tower had to offer. The other rooms to explore, the other superheroes to meet, the other dreams to fulfill.
She poked her head out from her room and looked both ways down the hall. It stretched on forever and she wondered how many people were actually a part of the Alliance. There were many names she had never heard of, men and women who worked behind the scenes to help out. They didn't have costumes or fight in battles, but they were still valued members of the team.
She knew she could contact Flex for a guided tour, but she decided to wander instead. She walked through the loop of personal quarters that made up whatever level of the tower she was on, passing a few other Alliance members as she did. There was a green glob of goo that slid across the floor, leaving a trail of slime behind it. Two eyes floated around inside the blob, staring at her as she passed. She tried not to make eye contact as she hurried her steps. She recognized Everlast and she hurried her steps again, this time to say hello to yet another celebrity she had admired since she was a kid. He was busy trying to get a young woman to invite him inside her quarters, so she decided not to bug him.
After she walked around the entire loop, she found herself standing in front of the transport tubes. She stared up at the clear glass, trying to figure out where she wanted to go. She felt a rumbling in her stomach, so she stepped inside the tube and said, “Retina, Kitchen,” but nothing happened.
She tried to remember what the orientation video had called it, but the video lasted four hours and was jam-packed with information. There were so many codes and colors and passwords floating around in her memory that she was sure she was going to forget her own name to make room for all the new information. She rubbed her forehead and ran through the list of locations where she was allowed to go, trying to remember the name of the floor where she could eat.
When it dawned on her, she felt dumb, but she mumbled “Retina, Cafeteria?” and the tube sent her flying upward.
A few seconds later and she was stepping out into a large, open floor filled with tables and chairs. Robotic spheres with multiple arms extending out of them flew through air, carrying trays and dishes, or wiping off tables. She saw a few random people sitting together and a few others sitting alone, so she grabbed a seat at an open table and folded her hands in front of her, trying to look like she knew what she was doing.
“What nutrition do you require?”
The voice startled her. When she turned around, there was a robot floating beside her.
“Oh. Hey.” Lucy gave the robot a little wave of her hand. “Um, is there like... a menu or something?”
The robot buzzed around her head until it was floating in the center of the table and tapped one of its mechanical arms on the glass surface. The glass lit up and displayed a long list of meals.
“Cool,” Lucy said to herself as she ran down the entire list, the robot buzzing around her impatiently.
She pointed at the menu and said, “I want the buffalo chicken wrap. Ooh! And a strawberry milkshake.”
“Does this complete your full request?”
“Yup,” she said, leaning back in her chair and trying to contain her excitement for the food.
The robot buzzed through the air toward the kitchen, leaving Lucy sitting by herself. She glanced around at the other people in the room. She didn't recognize any of the people sitting together, eating and laughing like old friends. Emph
asis on the old. She wondered if any of them were part of the Alliance during the war. She knew the Alliance had grown a lot when the Zharkovs started forcing the registration of super powers. If you had an SPMD, you were pretty much set. The Alliance took you in, gave you a job, and you were good to go. Welcome to the superhero life.
Lucy couldn't believe how lucky she was.
She looked around at the other random people scattered about. There was a middle-aged guy with an abnormally large head and a small pot belly who was engrossed in his MajesTech tablet. He was eating his food without looking away from the screen, but only half was making it to his mouth. He had food and sauce stains all over the front of his shirt. She never saw him before and she was pretty sure she knew why they kept him behind the scenes. He wasn't exactly what they would call “camera ready.”
She looked at the other table and felt something twirl in her stomach when she recognized the cute boy who lived a few doors down from her. His dreadlocks were still draped in front of his face and he hunched over the table like he was sleeping. A robot buzzed toward him carrying a tray full of salad and set it down next to him. He brushed his dreadlocks out of the way and picked up his fork, stabbing at hunk of tomato without the slightest enthusiasm.
Another robot dropped Lucy's tray down next to her and it clanged against the table, making her jump. The boy with the dreadlocks glanced over at her and caught her staring at him, so she tried to divert her eyes, but it all became an awkward mess of where to put her hands and how to look normal. She grabbed onto her buffalo chicken wrap and took a huge bite, wishing she had the power of invisibility.
When she summoned the courage to look back at the boy, he was still staring at her. He was moving his salad around with his fork, peering out from behind his curtain of hair. If she didn't find him so attractive, it would have been creepy. She flashed him a smile and looked back down at her plate. She took a sip of her strawberry shake, which was incredible, but then heard the boy's chair scrape against the floor. She looked up and saw him grab his tray of salad and start to walk toward her. She sucked in a breath and sat up straight in her chair, trying once again to look normal, whatever that was. She tried to convince herself that he was only walking toward the door and happened to be walking past her table on the way, but when he got close to her, he stopped.
The Super Power Saga (Book 1): Super Powers of Mass Destruction Page 19
