The Super Power Saga (Book 1): Super Powers of Mass Destruction

by Jaron Lee Knuth

  “Ugh!” Simone said, throwing her arms into the air. “I can't believe I'm hearing this. Not from you.”

  “Hearing what? I'm saying-”

  “I know exactly what you're saying. And it disgusts me.” She dropped down onto the side of the bed and held her face in her hands. “You used to be so idealistic. You never wanted to expand the empire, you wanted to unify it. You even spoke of a democratic council at one point.”

  “I was young, Simone. I was naive. Raised by my mother and her silver-tongued words that she thought were sharper than swords. She may think she can move the domini around like chess pieces, but she doesn't understand the way these people work. Everyone is too hungry for power, too greedy for wealth. They'll never be happy with their borders. They'll never be happy until they get the biggest throne and the fanciest crown and the longest title. They're all petulant children that need to be scolded.”

  Simone glanced in his direction, shocked by his words. “Scolded? Is that what you're calling war?”

  “All I'm saying is that Dominus Takahiro needs to learn his place.”

  Simone's gaze fell back to the floor. “Your grandfather said that once to you. He told you that you needed to learn your place. Do you remember?”

  Azakor's heart sank. He remembered, but he couldn't bring himself to admit it.

  “It was when you asked me to marry you,” Simone said. “It was when you got up in front of your entire family and introduced me as the love of your life. Do you remember that, Azakor?”

  He nodded. “Of course I do.”

  “And your grandfather stood up and said he forbid it. He said you needed to learn your place. He said your job was to strengthen the family. He said my super power, my golden skin, was a useless addition to the gene pool. He said that your enemies would laugh at you. He told you that you needed to marry someone with powers that would cause fear across the empire, an SPMD that would keep the domains subservient to the Zharkovs.”

  Azakor remembered it well, and hearing her speak his grandfather's words cut him again, as if Konstantin's ghost were in the room haunting him.

  “I was destroyed,” Simone said. “I was beyond embarrassed, beyond ashamed. I never felt smaller than I did at that moment. But do you remember what happened next? Do you remember what you said to your grandfather?”

  Azakor clenched his fists like he did that day, ready to fight his entire family if necessary. “I told him that you gave me more strength than any super power ever could. I told him that if he needed more weapons to win his war, then he wasn't a good warrior.”

  “You stared into his eyes and you told him you would die before choosing a weapon over a wife.”

  Azakor stood up and moved to where Simone sat on the bed. He put his arm around her and she leaned into him. He kissed the top of her head.

  “You can call it naive,” she said as she rubbed her hand in circles across his back, “or you can call it idealistic or foolish, but the man who said those things? That is the man I fell in love with. You were never going to do what was easy. You were going to do what was right. Just because someone punches harder, just because someone wins the war, that doesn't make them right. War is easy, fighting is easy, flexing your muscles is easy. Especially for you. But you need to make sure you're right before you act.”

  Azakor looked down at his hand, smooth and untouched by age or abrasion. He clenched it into a fist, feeling his veins bulge around his knuckles.

  “I have this power for a reason, Simone. I don't have to beg and plead. I can tell people what to do. I know what is right. And I will enforce what is right and what is just, no matter who opposes me.”

  Simone's hand drifted from his back and she folded it in her lap. “You know I will support you, no matter what you choose, my love. If you must fight, then fight.” She stood up from the bed and turned toward him, her body looking rigid, her arms folded behind her back. “But if you fight, you keep fighting until you win. You never give up and you never surrender. Because anything less than total and complete victory, means I have to sit at your funeral. And that can never happen. Do you hear me?”

  She grabbed the buckles of his cape and straightened them. “You are the Morningstar, Guardian of the South, son of Vigo Zharkov the Paramount, grandson of Konstantin Zharkov the October Guard. One day you will sit on that throne and wear that crown and you will be imperator of the entire Zharkovian Empire.” She stood on the tips of her toes and kissed his cheek. “But you're also my husband. And when the moon rises, I need you in my bed.”

  He smiled, warmed once again by his wife's words. He felt invigorated, as if she breathed life into his lungs.

  “And you are my wife, Simone Zharkov, and I need you in my bed now.”

  He picked her up off the ground and dropped her onto the plush blankets. Unbuckling the hooks she had just straightened, he let his cape fall to the floor. She hurriedly helped him unlatch the rest of his armor until he stood in front of her in his bare skin. He reached out and tore her clothes from her body in one motion, leaving her golden body exposed upon the blackness of the silk sheets. He climbed on top and pushed himself inside of her. He did not make love to her like the poet or the diplomat he once was. On that day, he took her like a warrior.

  26

  ANDRE

  The outlet mall was still under construction, but the MajesTech sign was already lit up over the doorway to the incomplete store. The shelves were bare and the fresh coat of paint on the walls stunk up the empty room. The only light came from the parking lot, peeking through the cardboard that covered the front windows.

  “Andre?” Carmen called out, hesitating as she peeked her head in the door. “Is anyone here?”

  “I'm over here,” Andre said, unfolding a metal chair and setting it in the circle he was creating.

  “Wot you goin' on about,” Victor said, pushing past the rest of the group. “You got us waltzin' round out here, middle o' the blasted suburbs. You have any idea how much a cabbie charges for a ride out here?”

  “Shut up, Victor. You didn't even pitch in,” Wesley said, cleaning his glasses on the edge of his shirt.

  “V-v-victor has a point though. Why are we meeting w-w-way out here?”

  Cleo stepped out from the back room, pouring a flask down her throat. She wiped her mouth with the hem of her shirt and said, “Bar's gone, and Andre made it pretty clear that none of you owned a place big enough for all of us to meet. So our employer set us up here.”

  Carmen looked around, as if she were expecting someone else to step out of the shadows. “What do you mean, 'our employer?'”

  “Have a seat,” Andre said, plopping down onto the metal chair. “We'll explain everything.”

  Victor and Mickey sat down, but Carmen and Wesley remained standing, exchanging glances of trepidation with each other.

  “All I'm asking is for you to listen,” Andre said when he noticed their reluctance. “Give me ten minutes of your time.”

  Carmen let out a sigh and sat down, but Wesley folded his arms across his chest and stayed where he was. Cleo took a seat next to Andre and shoved her flask between her enormous cleavage, where it disappeared completely.

  “We all know that our group has hit some rough times. Victor's in debt to Bobby the Bull, and now I'm responsible for that debt. Cleo's insurance company is fighting her for a payout, like all the insurance companies after the Malignus attack. Wesley will be without a job by the end of the month. And Mickey can't keep nickel and diming to support his mom forever.”

  Victor flashed a smile at Carmen. “Don't be too upset you didn't make the list, love. Maybe someday you'll have money problems and you can join our little club too.”

  Carmen shoved her middle finger into the air, inches from Victor's face.

  Andre leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. “Carmen might not be struggling like the rest of us, but her mom is the one with all the money. Not her. I'm sure she'd help us if she could.”

  “Oh ye
ah,” Victor said, leaning back in his chair. “I'm sure Carmen will throw money at all our problems once mommy's dead.”

  “Screw you,” Carmen said, turning away from him in her chair. “I wouldn't help you if you begged me, Victor.”

  Victor grabbed his crotch and said, “You got it wrong, love. It's the birds who beg me.”

  When Andre saw Cleo give him a skeptical look, Andre cleared his throat and said, “Okay, everyone. Enough. The point is, we need a way to make some money. Fast.”

  Wesley adjusted his glasses and asked, “And you found us a job?”

  Andre smiled at Cleo. “Actually, she found us a job.”

  “Here?” Mickey asked, his eyes darting around the empty store. “No offense, Wes, but I don't th-th-think I'm really the type to sell ph-ph-phones and stuff.”

  “We're not going to work for MajesTech.”

  “Then who are we working for?”

  “Our employer chooses to remain anonymous,” Cleo said, “but the payout will be big enough that after they take their ten percent off the top, there will still be enough for everyone to walk away with a sizable piece of the pie.”

  “Are you s-s-serious?” Mickey asked. “You got us a job working for a s-s-supervillain? For real?”

  “I'm not working for any supervillains,” Wesley said, holding his hands up in the air like he was trying to keep the idea at bay. “I don't care how big the payout is.”

  “Why am I here?” Carmen asked. “I'm sure Victor and Mickey will run off on your little escapade, but did you seriously think I would go along with something like this?”

  Carmen stood up, as if she were going to leave right then, when Cleo interrupted.

  “We need you on this one, kiddo. Without you, there is no job.”

  Carmen's eyes looked to Cleo first, then to Andre. “What's she talking about?”

  Andre cleared his throat and adjusted in his seat. “Your mom still has the cargo truck she bought when she wanted to start her floral business, right?”

  Carmen shrugged her shoulders. “I guess. It's in storage. She still thinks she's going to open up a store and make it big selling her arrangements. But she hasn't done anything with it for months.”

  Victor stroked his mustache. “Painkillers and television sure are more fun than workin', ain't they?”

  Carmen ignored him. “Why do you need my mom's truck?”

  “We need something to haul the gold.”

  Cleo looked at Andre with confusion, but he ignored her. It was a valid reason for Carmen to be there. Her mother's failed business venture left her with the only vehicle the group had access to. Carmen didn't need to know the real reason she was there. Not yet anyway.

  Carmen shook her head like she was unsure if she found the idea funny or insulting. “I'm not going to be your getaway driver.”

  “W-w-wait,” Mickey said, holding his hand in the air to stop the conversation. “Did you say g-g-gold?”

  Cleo nodded her head. “That's right. Gold, silver, and platinum. Just sitting there. Waiting for us to take it.”

  “And where is this magical land of milk and honey?” Wesley asked.

  “Under a bank that was destroyed in the Triangle District,” Andre explained. “We've got all the information we need. All we gotta do is dig our way through some rubble and grab the loot. It's easy.”

  “If it's so easy, why is someone hiring us to do it? Why aren't they doing it themselves?”

  Cleo adjusted her large body in the chair and the metal creaked under the stress. “The person that hired us has enough going on right now. Bigger fish to fry and all that. But they aren't going to let free money slip through their fingers either. They've given us very specific orders. What night to do it on. What time. He has it all worked out. He just needs muscle.”

  Andre smiled. “And that's where we come in.”

  “Yeah,” Carmen said, standing up and waving her hand as if she were saying goodbye. “Good luck with all that.”

  “Carmen!” Andre shouted, stopping her in her tracks. “We need you. Without your help, this all falls apart.”

  “So you're saying that if I don't help, then you won't run off to play cops and robbers? Good. Great. I'll talk to you guys later. You know, when you're not in jail.”

  She walked past Wesley, who turned to follow, but Andre called out to them again.

  “I thought you guys cared about your friends.”

  Carmen threw her hands in the air. “Oh screw you, Andre. You think I don't care about my friends because I don't want to go on some heist with you?”

  He stood up and walked toward her, speaking calmly and soothingly. “It's not just a heist. It's a way out. For all of us. We could be free from all of this. No more petty crime. No more bad neighborhood. No more wondering where our next meal is coming from. Maybe you can't understand that, but-”

  Carmen mumbled, “That's low.”

  “I'm just saying: Our lives are different. That's not your fault, but right now, you have the chance to help us. All you need to do is drive. That's it.” Andre turned to the rest of the group. “Victor and Mickey will be our lookouts. Wesley and I will dig. Once we're inside, we load up the van and we're outta there.”

  “What about guards?” Wesley asked. “What about alarms and security measures and-”

  “It's all been taken care of,” Cleo said. “According to our employer, the Malignus attack cut off power to the building. The attack has left lots of places vulnerable, so security is spread thin. The bank is relying on the rubble that covers the block to not only hide the basement access, but secure the area until they can move everything next week. Which is why we need to make our move tomorrow night.”

  “And this doesn't sound too easy to anyone else?” Wesley asked.

  “This is where we start,” Andre said, slamming his fist into the palm of his hand, “with the easy stuff. We can move on to harder stuff after we prove ourselves. But for now? This is all they're gonna trust us with. Maybe the next job will be something bigger. Something better.”

  Carmen scratched her head in frustration, causing the curls of her hair to shake and bounce. “See, then you go and say something like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “It sounds to me like you're more interested in getting in the good graces of a supervillain than you are helping your friends.”

  Andre laughed. “I can't believe you guys. I bring a plan to the table and all you do is complain. It's too easy and everyone gets what they want? Yeah! You're right. That's why it's a good plan.”

  Wesley shook his head. “But there's still a risk.”

  Cleo stood up from her chair, looking exhausted from the argument. “Look kids, I've worked a lot of jobs in my day, and there's never any guarantees. There's no sure thing. There's always going to be a risk. But that's why the reward is so sweet. That's why I chose to be a criminal. Where I come from? In my neighborhood? People didn't have opportunities. There was no law-abiding way to crawl your way out. There was no forty hour work week that was going to pay the bills and give me even a taste of the American dream. I had to put on a mask and take it for myself.” She set her hand on Mickey's vibrating shoulder. “You're all smart kids. I'd hate to see you end up like the rest of the neighborhood, scraping their way through the week so they can drink themselves through the weekend. Be better than that. Be bigger than that. Don't wait for anyone to give you anything. You reach out and you take it.”

  Andre smiled. She was good. She was really good. He felt inspired. And when he looked around the room, he could see her words lighting up in the eyes of everyone else, too.

  Carmen clenched her fingers around the back of the metal chair sitting in front of her. She leaned on it, as if she needed to support herself under the weight of her decision.

  “O-o-of course I'll help,” Mickey said. “I've always got your b-b-back, Andre. You know that.”

  Andre clapped his hand into Mickey's and said, “And I always got yours, buddy.”<
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  Victor shook his head and said, “Well, shite. I'll help, but I ain't offerin' my back to you two poofs.”

  “Nobody wants it, Victor.”

  Victor flashed a smile and his middle finger.

  Andre turned to Carmen and said, “Just say yes. Please. Your friends need you. One little favor and-”

  “Fine!” she said with a heavy sigh. “I'll drive the stupid truck to the stupid bank. But if there's even a hint of trouble, I'm leaving. Whether you're in the truck or not. I refuse to go down like some stupid criminal.”

  Andre walked over to Wesley, who was staring at the clipboard on the floor with a list of inventory for the store. He placed his arm around his friend's back.

  “What about you, Wes? Are you in?”

  “Yeah, mate,” Victor yelled over to him. “You gonna help out your friends, or are you gonna puss out like usual?”

  Andre held out a finger in the air to quiet Victor and turned back to Wesley. “Ignore him. Just think about what this could do for you. You wouldn't have to live with your aunt anymore. No more crappy jobs. No more crappy bosses. This could mean real freedom.”

  Wesley turned out of Andre's side hug and stepped away from him. “Enough of the sales pitch, Andre. Nothing you say is going to change my mind. You know me. I'm not going to make some impulsive decision.”

  “So that means you'll think about it?”

  Wesley shrugged his shoulders.

  Andre glanced up at the clock. “You've got twenty-two hours. Carmen needs to pick us up at Victor's place tomorrow night at ten o'clock.”

  “And once we have the truck full of silver and gold?” Carmen asked. “What then?”

  “We meet Cleo at what's left of the bar and unload everything into her cellar.”

  “Where I'll stand guard.” Cleo smiled so big that her yellow teeth almost glowed in the moonlight. “Our employer will send someone in the morning to pick everything up and pay us.”

  “Easy peasy,” Victor said, swiping his hands together. “Can't bloody wait.”