I had already forgotten about them by the time we left the elevator on the top floor. The bellman ushered us with a sleepy smile and faintly glowing eyes to our room. The last to enter, I was just about to close the door when I thought of something, and turned to the bellman, asking, 'Is it possible for you to get me a laptop or computer to use? It's kind of urgent.'
'Oui, mademoiselle. We only use the latest technology here at the Ambassador.'
'Awesome! Merci,' I said with a grin, resisting the urge to fist-pump in front of the bellman. He was already running off to fetch my request when I closed the door.
Turning around, I completely forgot about the laptop as soon as I took in the penthouse suite.
The floor was marble, but practically disappeared under the austere gold-and-mahogany furniture. A glass table was surrounded by overstuffed seats; on the glass was giant platter of fruit, a jar of two dozen white roses, and what looked like a large box of chocolates. Doors on either side led to what looked like separate bedrooms. There was a small bar to my right, small bottles gleaming in a variety of colors.
Directly across from me was a view of Paris to die for. The Eiffel Tower glittered from only half-a-mile away, a golden beacon in the center of the city. Wanda had already made herself comfortable on the chaise lounge, while Pietro had wandered off to explore the rest of the suite.
'This is too much,' I said, as I gawked up at the coffered ceilings, the intricate designs, brocade wallpaper, absolutely superfluous gold leaf details.
'I think it's just enough,' Wanda said with a smile, looking mighty pleased at my reaction. She held up her hands, said, 'Imagine living like this, every day. To have the world at your fingertips. This must be what it's like to be Tony Stark.'
'Among other things, I suppose,' I said, somewhat reluctantly, trying not to look too deep into the bitterness of her tone. I wasn't quite sure what Wanda wanted to get out of this; a look at how the other half lived? Some better understanding of Tony Stark, who I had no doubt she still despised with every fiber of her being. 'Although I think it might be a bit more complicated than a great view and unlimited room service.'
'You are defending a man who doesn't deserve the effort,' Wanda said after me, as I headed towards the TV. I ignored her as I took the remote and turned it on.
Settling on a nearby ottoman, I flicked to a French twenty-four hours news channel.
The reporter was talking exactly what I expected her to be talking about.
'...far the number of casualties has still remained undeclared, but reports are saying there are numerous deaths and injuries. Rescue efforts are still underway, trying to reach those still trapped in the wreckage of the HMS Adelaide,' The woman reported against a black sky. The titular ship was behind her, a hazy orange glow in the background, mingled with red-and-blue flashing lights. The reporter's face matched the grave situation at hand. Someone handed her a card, and she said, 'I've just received word; the terrorist known as the Mandarin has taken responsibility for this attack! This would make it the third attack this month by him and his affiliates the Ten Rings, and the twelve just this year, not counting the numerous attacks attributed to him in the past. The Mandarin has made no demands, only states that he is here to teach the world a lesson. Gilles, I fear that the Mandarin is only getting bolder. There seems to be no end to his reign of terror.'
The camera switched back to the anchorman at his desk. 'Thank you, Marie. From what we've learned from the police so far, the HMS Adelaide seems to be a random target, a cargo ship inbound from Australia. There seems to be no political angle in this attack, just another attempt to strike fear into the hearts of the French people and the world beyond. The U.N. is already in talks with the Avengers, who have aided in international affairs before. We will keep you updated as new events arise…'
'I think we should head to London,' I called out, my eyes still on the TV screen.
'What?' Pietro popped his head out of the bathroom.
Wanda straightened up from her seat. 'Why?'
I turned around in my spot to look at them. 'I think we should head to London after this. Find those reporters who were in Sokovia. They were English, right? So they'll be home now. We can find them, and tell them what really happened in Nice.'
'You mean,' Pietro frowned, tilted his head. 'About Aldrich Killian?'
'He lied about where he was,' I gestured to the TV screen. Dr. Killian himself was still speaking from what looked like the porch of a tropical beach house. 'Why would he do that? Why are the Komitet targeting him? Why are the Ten Rings claiming responsibility? Something weird is going on, and I think they should know.'
I was still reeling from what happened earlier today. The attack, the black out, just trying to figure everything out. Things I didn't have an answer to, things that I might never have an answer to. But that sense of helplessness only increased my desire to do something.
'I'm still going home,' I added. 'That's not changing. But right now I'm starting to think France isn't as safe as I thought.'
Pietro's eyes went to the TV, squinting a little. 'The Ten Rings? They sound familiar.'
'They're the ones who kidnapped Tony Stark four years ago,' I said.
Wanda snapped her fingers, sneering at Pietro. 'Ha! Of course something like this is Tony Stark's fault.'
I frowned at her. 'No offense, but I think you're jumping the gun a little. Right now, I think Killian has more to do with this than Stark.'
Wanda just sniffed, shrugging her shoulders. 'It just seems oddly coincidental, I think. If he is not at fault, then why isn't he doing anything to help?'
I was about to retort, but a knock on the door interrupted me. Throwing her one last disgruntled look, I got up and got the door.
The bellman, still under Wanda's thrall, stood on the other side. He presented a silver laptop on a cloth-covered cart. Right before I closed the door, I added to the bellman, 'Can I have a map, too, please? Thank you.'
As I accepted it, I heard Pietro ask from behind me, 'Forget Tony Stark, who are the Avengers?'
'I...I don't know,' I said, realizing I had no reference point on that. I realized that this had been the first time I'd heard of them, too. 'I've never heard of them before.'
I glanced down at the laptop. Well, I actually had a way of finding out now.
Not wasting a second, I took the laptop and settled at the other end of Wanda's couch. Opening the screen, I waited for it to boot up. Wanda scorched in next to me to see what I was doing.
Her fingers skimmed the smooth metal edges of the laptop. 'It's so...small.'
Pietro leaned in over my shoulder, and I angled my head away as he reached to press his hands against the keyboard, letting out a sniff. 'Not Cyrillic. I can't read English words.'
'Put that on the list of things I'll have to teach you,' I said, as I opened the browser and typed 'Avengers' into the search bar. 'Let's see what Google has to say…'
Turns out, Google had a lot to say.
The first thing that popped up was an image — one I instantly recognized from New York. A silver skyscraper that I recognized to be Stark Tower, only it no longer had the logo on the side. Instead, it had been replaced with a giant 'A' symbol, locked in a circle. Beneath it, the tagline read: Avengers Towers was finally christened today, after months of repairing the damage incurred during the Incident…'
Wanda prodded me, and I jolted a little, before remembering to narrate what I read. Their expressions were as confused as I felt, and it wasn't getting any better when I clicked on the first link that popped up, from the New York Times.
This time, beside the article, was a picture of Tony Stark and — 'Holy shit, that's Captain America!'
'Captain America?' Pietro angled the screen so he could see it better. 'What? How is he still alive?'
'I-I don't know, just give me a second,' I quickly scanned the article to give me a chance to absorb the information before I dictated it to the twins. 'The A
vengers team was formed by Tony Stark and Captain America during the Battle of New York, locally known as 'the Incident' , on May 4th, 2012, when aliens attacked the city. This team of extraordinary individuals, including acclaimed scientist Bruce Banner and the mysterious demigod-like being known only as Thor, gathered together to save the city in its moment of crisis, averting both a terrible invasion and a nuclear disaster. Other members of the team are only known by the code names, and have been avoiding the public light; Hawkeye, a sharp-shooting archer only spotted from a distance, and the Black Widow, a red-haired woman who is personally responsible for closing the portal above the city. Captain America is also going by his old war moniker; the organization SHIELD has kept his true identity private, even after all these years.'
'So they're a bunch of warmongers playing at hero,' Wanda scoffed derisively as we continued to go through more articles and news sites. She flicked her hair and stood up, apparently annoyed with the matter. 'Fantastic. It is good to see that they have kept their focus on America, and not on countries in greater need.'
'I'm sure it's not like that,' I said, but my voice was weak. I was still trying to digest all of this. The Avengers? The Incident? Aliens?! What the hell happened when I was in the Crucible? 'I can't believe so much changed in just six months. Are you guys telling me you've heard none of this?'
'We were locked up, like you,' Pietro pointed out. 'We knew nothing of our own country, much less the outside world. As if they would ever tell us.'
I just pressed a hand to my forehead, scrolling through more and more images of New York City, my home, covered in rubble. Crashed alien ships, dead bodies, ruins, aftermath of the battle. Video clips of the Hulk catching a fallen Iron Man. The launch of the nuclear missile, before being diverted into the massive shimmering purple-black portal that gave me vertigo just from looking at it on a computer screen.
There were other images, too, reports of lesser-known, local heroes also aiding in the Battle. Mostly civilians, firefighters and cops going above and beyond to save people, as well as a strange red-and-blue suited figure swinging through the streets, face covered by a mask. Most of the video was blurry, caught on handhelds and done in the midst of panicking crowds and aliens raining down all around them.
This wall-crawling, web-slinging figure appeared in other articles, with clearer photos and what appeared to be a suit upgrade and, finally, a name. The Spectacular Spider-Man saves the day again! This hero, after making a name for himself at the Battle of New York, now seems to operate on a daily basis in the tri-state area. No word yet on his affiliation with the Avengers…
'So.' I said outloud, because nothing else was coming to mind. As if I thought my day could get any weirder. 'I guess that happened.'
I couldn't really comprehend my city getting attacked. Again. The untold amounts of damage. The fact that, apparently, only seventy-two (!) people died in the Battle. The 'Rise of the Superhero' as one TIMES article put it. The fact that the strange and the unusual were now becoming commonplace in everyone's lives.
The world was not the same as I left it. Would home still be as I remembered it, when I got back? They say that most of the city was repaired following the Battle, but how true could that be?
And, above all, what did these SHIELD guys have to do with it?
All I learned was that they were a secret organization that recently came out to the public, after being partially exposed in the Battle. Apparently it's kinda hard to explain a giant helicarrier flying off the bay when it's invisible shields go down.
They seemed like the good guys, though. They backed up the Avengers, especially in the aftermath, when they got strafed by both federal and international figures. The Avengers saved New York; And they were here to stay.
Eventually, Pietro lost interest in the matter as well. Like Wanda, he was disillusioned with the idea of heroes, the unity, and the world-protecting the Avengers promoted. But it wasn't their city that just got attacked (well, okay, it happened six months ago, but it still felt like it just happened to me). It wasn't their family they were worried about. Was Mom okay? Was that why the phone wasn't working when I called? What about Peter, Aunt May, and Uncle Ben? I could only pray that they weren't one of the unlucky seventy-two that died.
Thinking of Peter reminded me of my original intention of getting this laptop. Although it was the middle of the night, and both of the twins had gone asleep; at one point I looked up and saw the map I requested lying on the table in front of me. When that had happened? I didn't remember the door knocking.
Either way, I was still wide awake, and my idea gave me a new burst of energy. I hesitated only for a moment before logging into my old email account.
I wasn't sure what I was expecting. I mean, okay, the 567 unread messages wasn't a surprise; most of it was subscription emails to things I no longer cared about at this point. I filtered through them, narrowed the field to just school emails, and people I knew.
567 emails dropped down to 4.
Three of them were from April that I remembered and hadn't opened yet. Two from Peter about a homework assignment. One from Kate about debate club. And one message from school.
None of them were after April.
The Subject line only read: The Passing of a Student
My mouth went dry. My hand hesitated over the touchpad.
I didn't blink as I clicked on it.
April 27th, 2012
To: The Midtown Community
From: Principal Morita, Board of Directors
Re: The Passing of a Student
It is with great sadness that I write to inform you the passing of Amelia Fletcher, member of the Class of 2014. She passed away this morning at Metro General hospital, after fighting a hard battle against lung and heart failure, brought on by a terrible case of tuberculosis.
Amelia was a gifted Honors student here at Midtown. She was well known for her helpfulness in the computer lab, and for her love of movies. She was a native New Yorker, and lived in Hell's Kitchen.
During this time of loss, Midtown will provide counseling and grief support services for our students and other members of our community.
Our thoughts and prayers are with the family, fellow students, friends, and teachers of Amelia. We are all saddened by the loss of one of our own. Please support each other during this difficult time.
I kept staring at the final words, long after I finished reading them. The screen grew blurry, and it took me a moment to finally shake my head and wipe at my eyes.
I didn't have more emails because they thought I was dead. They weren't looking for me. They never bothered to try. Never had a reason to.
And Mom? Oh, my god. I couldn't even imagine... I had to tell her. I had to let her know I was still alive.
But even as I opened a new email, I stopped myself before I could type anything. What was I doing? I couldn't contact anyone. The Crucible faked my dead for a reason. Someone had tapped into Peter's phone. Someone was watching us. Someone was probably watching this account right now.
If I wrote an email, then they'd know that I was alive, that I was active. They could probably trace the exact location I sent it, too.
I was practically vibrating in my seat, a combination of frustration and pain. I had to do something. I had to tell someone. But was it worth it? Could I really wait until I actually got home?
Then, in the corner of my inbox, a green dot popped up.
Ned Leeds was active.
Oh shit. I forgot about my status.
The mouse pointer flew across the screen.
I wasn't fast enough.
A chat bubble came up.
NL: Who is this?
NL: How did you get on this account?
I stared at the messages, unable to move. My fingers were splayed, rigid, over the keys. What do I do? What do I say? Ned had already seen I was on. He already knew someone was looking through my emails.
For a long minute, Ned
made no further messages. I hoped against hope that he'd just leave it alone. What time was it over there? Had to be nine in the evening. Just go to bed and forget you ever saw this.
But computer beeped with another message.
NL: You know it's super bad karma to hack into a dead person's account.
NL: Fine, don't reply to me. I hope Mia comes back to haunt you.
A startled laugh burst from my lips, and I clapped a hand over my mouth before I could accidentally wake up the twins. As much as it hurt not to respond, it felt so good to be talking to Ned again. Even if he didn't know it was me.
Eminent Silence Page 50
