Meta 2: The Second Wave

by Tom Reynolds

  "You all right?" Sarah asks.

  "Me? Yeah. Of course. Why?"

  "It looked like you fell asleep standing up."

  "Asleep standing up? Me? Nah. I was just resting my eyes."

  "And swaying."

  "I was thinking about a song I heard earlier."

  "Uh huh," Sarah says in a voice that lets me know she doesn't believe me, but is going to let it slide because she's already asked me why I'm always so tired about a million times. "Are you walking this way?" she asks.

  "Yup."

  "Great, I'll walk with you." We start walking and there's a few seconds of silence before she says what I knew she would, "Sorry about my dad last night."

  "Oh, that? No, don't worry about it."

  "He's always like that."

  "Bring a lot of boys home, do you?" I joke.

  "No, stupid," Sarah says, playfully hitting me. "He's just always wrapped up in his work. Ever since Mom left, it's like he just replaced that hole in his life with work."

  "And when was that?" I ask. She turns her head to look at me, as though the answer to whether or not she wants to have this conversation is written on my face. "It's okay if you don't want to—"

  "No," she stops me, "it's fine. I wanted to tell you, in fact. I just wasn’t sure how to bring it up. It's not really something I ever talk about. I barely remember her, and Dad hasn't mentioned her name once since she left."

  "It was that long ago?"

  "Yeah. I must have been about three or four years old."

  "Oh, wow. I had no idea."

  I have more questions, but I'm careful to tread lightly. She'll let me know what she wants me to know on her schedule. There's no need for me to rush her just because I'm nosy.

  "It was bad," she continues. "Dad used to drink a lot. Trying to forget about my mom, I guess. When I got older, it hurt me to see how badly he hurt. He really loved her, and she just left him ... and me." There's another long, pregnant pause, and I can tell Sarah is trying to figure out whether or not to share another piece of herself. She finally decides. "He was a meta, you know."

  "What?" I ask.

  "The guy. The man my mom left my dad for."

  That was the last thing I was expecting to hear. Now I've got a lot more questions, but most of them are related to how this revelation fits in with her dad working for The Agency, which is something I assume she doesn't even know.

  "Why didn't you tell me before?" I ask.

  "Because ..." She goes quiet. "Because of what happened with your parents. You must already hate metas so much. I didn't want to remind you of that with my own story. It's way different with me. My mom was her own person. She didn't have to leave us for him. It doesn't matter what he was."

  "I don't hate metas," I say.

  "How could you not?" she asks.

  "Because having a pair of fancy snap bracelets doesn't make a person good or bad. They are what they’ve always been. A meta is still just a person."

  "Well, those fancy snap bracelets can change a person when they’re suddenly able to knock a building off its foundation. Anyway, it all hit Dad pretty hard. He never really bounced back after that."

  "And what about your mom?" I ask.

  "She stayed in touch for a little while, but then it became too hard for my dad to deal with. He filed for sole custody, and she didn't challenge him. I haven't seen her since."

  "Wow. That's gotta be really hard."

  "Not really. I never really knew her, and my dad has more than made up for her in the overprotection department, as you saw last night."

  "Ha, yeah. Well, that's just how dads are, I guess. Not like I'd really know much about it."

  "You've got Derrick. I know he's not your dad, of course, but I have a feeling he'd do just about anything for you and that he does his fair share of keeping you out of trouble."

  "You'd be surprised," I say with a smirk, thinking about how she has no idea how I spend my nights.

  "Well, if you don't have a problem with metas, I was wondering if I could make last night up to you, and see if you'd be interested in going to the Metahuman Circus with me tonight? I got tickets a while ago, and it's supposed to be absolutely amazing. Metas providing a little entertainment instead of destroying buildings and lives," Sarah says with sarcastic cheer in her voice.

  The Metahuman Circus. A throwback to one that existed during the first wave, except much more elaborate now that there’s a wealth of metahumans looking for a way to earn an honest living without having to hide the fact that they have powers. While it might be a somewhat honest way to make a living as a meta, it's not without its detractors. A lot of questions have been raised over the speed at which the Metahuman Circus kicked back into production after being quiet for over a decade, not to mention the human circus performers who are lucky to get a job cleaning up elephant poop now that metas are back. No one wants to see a man be shot out of a cannon when they can see one who can fly.

  I’m definitely more than a little curious to see metas up close without them trying to bash my head in. I might not make any new friends tonight, but it's a good idea to observe others with powers as much as possible to see if there's anything new I can learn. Plus, I'm still due a real night off. I can always catch up on my sleep in Mr. Morrison's class tomorrow.

  "Sure, I'd love to."

  Chapter 17

  The word "circus" is not an apt description for the absolute frenzy that is happening in front of us, and we're not even inside the arena yet. The crowd is immense, with thousands lined up to get in, and seemingly even more outside the gates, desperately searching for a ticket for sale. Alongside them are a plethora of anti-meta groups staging protests. While anti-meta sentiment is high, it's rare to see a public display of it, mostly because it's not always a great idea to protest a group of people who could potentially vaporize you with their eyes. At the Metahuman Circus, there’s a feeling of safety for the protesters as the metas performing are all on their best behavior, lest they lose their jobs. There’s also media all over the place, covering the event¸ so any attack on the anti-meta groups in front of this many cameras would only further their cause.

  "Hey buddy, you got tickets? Look, I'll buy ‘em off you for a thousand dollars!" a man says, grabbing my arm before I can find the line to the arena’s entrance.

  "A thousand dollars?" I practically yell.

  "Only a thousand? I'll give you two thousand!" another man yells from farther down the line where it looks like he was haggling over the price of a ticket from another attendee, only to interrupt it when he heard what he thought was a bargain.

  "Two thousand dollars?" I yell again, not learning my lesson the first time and attracting even more people in search of tickets who think I'm holding some type of impromptu auction.

  "No, no, no," Sarah says, waving her arms in the air. "Sorry everyone. Big misunderstanding. We're not looking to sell our tickets."

  "Yeah, sorry everybody," I say. "My mistake. Good luck, though."

  The crowd slowly disperses, muttering and grumbling about us wasting their time before they head out to look for scalpers who are more than willing to part with their tickets for the right price.

  "Sorry about that," I say to Sarah. "I just couldn't believe people are willing to pay that much money for a circus."

  "Not just any circus, a Metahuman Circus! I wouldn't miss this for any amount of money."

  "Right, me either," I say and then pause. "Still, I mean, two thousand dollars is a lot of money. I bet you could go to all kinds of other shows with that much money—"

  "Connor," Sarah interrupts me, "they're my tickets. We're not selling them. We're going to see the Metahuman Circus."

  "Right, right, of course. I was just thinking out loud."

  "Uh huh," she says, not believing me, but looking to change the subject.

  "How did you get these anyway? They must have cost you a fortune"

  "Nope, they were free actually. My dad got them from some guy at work, ap
parently he couldn't make it."

  Yeah, I'm sure it was something like that. Man, she really has no idea, or she's even better at lying than her dad is. We find our way through the crowd to the actual line to enter the arena. Even the line takes a good thirty minutes or so to get through before we're able to get inside.

  The setup of the circus looks just like any other circus you would expect to see. There are three rings in the center for the entertainers to perform inside of; some of the rings already have caged animals or various contraptions ready and waiting, having been loaded by the crew in advance of the show. We find our seats right as the lights go down, signaling that it's time for the show to begin.

  Once the audience is seated and quiet, a single spotlight hits the middle of the center ring. There's applause as a red-suited ringmaster takes a bow and announces the night's first act just as she’s entering the spotlight in the ring to his right.

  Before the performance begins, the audience is asked to reach under their seats and find a small bag of reflective confetti and have it ready. Sarah and I exchange looks of confusion, but there’s certainly an element of excitement around the arena about how these bags will fit into the performance. Part of reason for the excitement is that the meta who has stepped into the ring doesn’t look much like any of the metas you see flying or running around the city. She's in her late fifties, overweight, and tired looking. She's been stuffed into a sequined spandex suit, but there hasn't been much additional effort put into her clothing or taming her frizzy black and gray, shoulder length hair.

  The ringmaster introduces her as “Elaine, The Human Tornado,” who has the ability to control the weather and the wind using her powers. I sit up in my chair since this is an ability no other meta has demonstrated yet, as far as I know. I'm even tempted to text Derrick to see if he's ever heard of such a meta, but I decide to wait to see what the actual performance is before potentially embarrassing myself. Within a few seconds, I'm glad I made that decision.

  The Human Tornado doesn't have the ability to control the air, weather, or anything even remotely like that. She's a Speeder, with the ability to move quickly. Very quickly. I haven't had to track down many, and I'm glad. Based on the few encounters I've had with them and the videos I've seen online, there are some Speeders that I don't think even I'd be able to chase down. It's not just running that metabands enhance; it's pretty much everything, as Elaine, The Human Tornado, is demonstrating. She begins spinning around and around in a circle. Soon, she's a blur, and you can hear the air around her starting to whip. Dust from the dirty circus floor begins to rise and slowly circle her feet.

  "I'm gonna go run to the bathroom," I whisper to Sarah.

  "What? The show just started!"

  "I know, but I have to go. I figure I better do it now, during Amateur Hour, than wait and have to duck out during one of the good parts."

  "Shhhh!" someone at least three rows back hisses.

  Sarah looks back and mouths the word, "Sorry." She rolls her eyes and motions for me to just go.

  As I bound up the steps, I look back at the ring when the audience begins to gasp and applaud. People have begun throwing their confetti into the air toward the ring, watching as most of it gets swirled into the previously invisible tornado that has formed around Elaine.

  All right, I'll admit that it looks pretty neat, but considering the face value of these tickets, I really hope the rest of the show is a little more impressive.

  Chapter 18

  "You believe this crap cost over a hundred dollars a ticket?" the college-age guy with a backward baseball cap standing in line in front of me at the concession stand asks.

  I've made a slight detour after hitting the bathroom to grab some snacks. All right, so maybe it was a major detour, because I walked halfway around the arena just to find the Burger Shack stand, but A: It's going to be totally worth it because their burgers are amazing, and B: I'm feeling slightly anxious watching metas with Sarah.

  I'm an idiot for not realizing that, of course, I would feel this way. I'm juggling not only my secret, but also her dad's secret in my head. I have to constantly remind myself not to seem to have too much knowledge about metas, how their bands and powers work, etc. At the same time, I also have to constantly remind myself not to act like a total idiot who has never even heard of metas since that would probably seem even more suspicious. The entire world is obsessed with them, and I constantly catch myself acting like I've been living under a rock for the past six months.

  I really need to just relax. My brother runs one of the biggest meta sites on the Internet; it would totally make sense for me to have a lot of knowledge about metas. Hell, I had way too much knowledge about them even before I got my bands, simply because Derrick likes to hear himself talk.

  "Yeah, not that great, so far," I finally reply to the guy in front of me after what was probably way too much time staring off in the distance, thinking about whether or not I'm pretending to have the right amount of knowledge about metas.

  "I'm just waiting for The Multiplier. He's who I'm really here to see," he says.

  "The Multiplier?"

  "Really? You spent this much money on tickets to this lame fest, and you don't even know who The Multiplier is?"

  "I got the tickets for free. Didn't really look into it too much beforehand."

  "Still, have you been living under a rock or something?" he asks.

  Even when I'm being truthful about my meta knowledge, I come off looking like an idiot.

  "I just haven't heard of him before."

  "He's the only reason to come to these shows, in my opinion."

  "What's his power?" That's better. Act interested, like a real human being.

  "He can multiply!"

  Ask a stupid question; get a stupid answer.

  "What does that mean, though? Like, he knows all of his timetables up to infinity?" I awkwardly joke.

  At the very least this guy thinks I'm just a garden-variety weirdo, rather than a person trying to hide something.

  "He can multiply himself. Split himself in two, and then split those two into two, and then split those two into—"

  "I think I get it," I interrupt to make sure I'm not standing here all night with this guy. "So, what? Is he a Manipulator?"

  Manipulators are metas who have some type of control of matter outside of their own bodies. It’s not quite telekinesis, but the ability to create complex objects out of what looks like mid-air. Scientists have since verified in a lab that it's not actually "thin air," since there’s matter and dark matter around us at all times. As best as they can tell, Manipulators have the ability to rearrange these basic building blocks of existence and change them into something more complicated.

  Some Manipulators are only able to create the most basic of objects. A plain item with no moving parts, for example. Others are able to create basic machinery, vehicles, weapons, etc. The most talented are able to create actual complex living organisms, creatures that they can control just through thought. The Controller was a Manipulator, although he was probably the most advanced one the world has seen. He could not only create seemingly living creatures, but he did so from a great distance. Most Manipulators are limited to only being able to create and control objects that they are close enough to see with their own eyes.

  "What's a Manipulator?" the guy in front of me asks.

  Whoops. Maybe that was too much information. Hard to keep straight the information I get from TV or Derrick from what I hear from Halpern or Midnight. Each source needs to be somewhat carefully compartmentalized in my brain so that I don't reveal anything I hear from Midnight or Halpern to anyone else or to each other.

  "I think I read about it online somewhere. You know, just a meta that can make things out of thin air," I say.

  "Nah, I don't think so. He splits himself. Like he's made out of Play-Doh or something. Do you know what time it is?"

  "Uhh," I say while pulling my hand out of my pocket to glance down at my w
atch, "it's ten minutes to nine."

  "Crap! I'm gonna miss it. This is his first performance with the circus, and he's going to try to multiply himself a hundred times. It's never been done before! Here, you can take my spot. I've got to make sure I'm back before he starts," he says as he leaves the line and starts a light jog, presumably toward the direction of his seat.

  I briefly think about leaving the line too since this guy was so excited about the act, and because the ability he described isn't one that I've heard about before. All known Manipulators, even the most powerful ones, are only able to create and control a single projection at a time. If they try to create more, the first one begins to decay and break down. The idea of someone being able to create not only a projection as complex as a human being, but also multiple ones, just doesn't sound believable. My guess is he's just some run-of-the-mill Manipulator who has figured out a clever illusion to make it look like he's got an ability that no one else has. It makes sense after all. Why come to the Metahuman Circus if you're not going to see anything you haven’t already seen before? They've got to do something to draw people watching the news and ViewNow videos of metas out of their homes and down to the circus.

  The line for Burger Shack is still wrapped around the corner, but enough people are starting to leave the line that I'm able to round the counter and at least catch a glimpse of the act on the large screen television perched over the Burger Shack stand. Sarah is going to kill me for missing this, but my stomach will never forgive me if I give up on Burger Shack when I'm this close. Priorities.

  The lights in the entire arena dim, and the spotlight appears once again in the center ring where the ringmaster is already standing and waiting.

  "And now, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, we have a very special treat for you tonight," the ringmaster announces as a hush falls over the entire arena. Even the line I'm standing in for Burger Shack has gone silent, and everyone's eyes are glued to the TV in front of us.

  "Ladies and gentlemen, we live in a fantastical world where humans are now capable of doing things that we have never been able to do before, feats and abilities that were previously thought to be impossible or limited to the world of science fiction. I don't have to tell you about the amazing events we see unfolding on television everyday, but I can tell you that tonight, you will have a chance to see an entirely new type of meta. One that has never before been seen in the world. A meta with an ability so mind boggling that even our nation's top scientists and metaologists refuse to believe he's real. They refuse, only because they have not seen him with their own eyes. Well tonight, ladies and gentlemen of Bay View City, you are going to walk out of here with undeniable proof that you have witnessed meta history within the walls of this arena!"