Meta 2: The Second Wave

by Tom Reynolds

  "Just watch," he says, motioning for my attention to return to the screen in front of me and turning up the volume on the computer.

  With the volume turned up, voices can now be heard, however the voices do not belong to the men on screen. Instead, they seem to belong to men watching the same feed we are, but the slight static over some of the voices seems to indicate that these men are not in the same room and that at least one of them is remote.

  What I hear next is horrifying.

  "Commander, we have incoming hostiles detected overhead by drone."

  "What is their ETA?"

  "Two minutes, sir."

  "And what is our team's extraction ETA?"

  "Nine minutes, sir."

  "..."

  "Sir?"

  "Is there any chance that Alpha Team can defend their position against incoming hostiles?"

  "Not likely, sir. Incoming hostiles outnumber Alpha Team by the hundreds and are carrying heavy artillery."

  "Execute failsafe protocol."

  "Sir, are you certain?"

  "Execute it dammit!"

  The screen goes black.

  "Wow," I say.

  "Do you understand what happened?" Derrick asks me in a solemn tone.

  "Not really."

  Derrick sighs and closes the video player, moving his mouse pointer quickly to a minimized web browser window. He clicks to expand the window, and the headline of news website screams, TERRORISTS ACCIDENTALLY DETONATE NUCLEAR BOMB IN USKZIL.

  "Now do you understand?" Derrick asks me.

  "Umm, nope. Not really still," I tell him truthfully.

  "Are you serious? How can you not be aware of the biggest story in the world right now?" Derrick asks, no longer trying as hard to keep his voice down.

  "In case you forgot, Derrick, I can kind of get a little preoccupied during the day, what with the whole superhero thing and all."

  "A nuclear bomb exploded in the desert today in a small village in Uskzil. Immediately, the news reported it as having been the work of a terrorist organization looking to target the United States. They said this group has obtained the materials necessary to build the bomb, but that they accidentally blew it up themselves when trying to arm it. There were approximately one hundred deaths, but no one is being allowed anywhere near the town due to the threat of radiation poisoning. Satellite imagery shows that the explosion was extremely contained. Too contained and specific to have been the work of an accident, so I started digging. Someone must have noticed my digging, or just assumed I would be digging, and sent me that video. It's proof that I'm right."

  "Right about what?"

  "That it was too convenient. That it wasn't an accident. The Agency sent Alpha Team in there to retrieve an unknown number of metabands that have been found in the desert. A local warlord who had arranged to have them sold to a terrorist organization was holding the metabands. That's who was on their way to the site in the video you just saw, but obviously they never got there. Someone was monitoring that operation. They saw what was about to happen: that Alpha Team was too late and the metabands were about to fall into the wrong hands. They made the decision to nuke the entire place, including the Special Forces team, in order to make sure those metabands didn't fall into the wrong hands."

  "That's crazy, though. Why wouldn't they have just done that in the first place? Why send in Americans just to have them killed?" I ask Derrick.

  "Because the metabands must have been deemed too important to destroy. Hell, even those nukes probably didn't destroy them. Someone wants those metabands, either because there’s something different about them, or because there’re a large number of them, or something. I'm not quite sure what the reason is yet, but it’s serious. You think the government really wants to drop nukes? Do you have any idea what the consequences will be if it’s uncovered that we dropped the first nuclear bomb on another county in over half a century, sacrificing the lives of our own soldiers in the process?" Derrick asks me.

  "So are you going to put the video out there?" I ask.

  After a brief pause, he tells, "I'm not sure yet. I'm used to leaking things that are dangerous, things that can get me in trouble, but this? This is a whole other level. This is the type of thing wars get started over. I don't know if I can have that on my conscience."

  "But people have a right to know. They have a right to know what our country did, don't they?"

  "I'm not sure, Connor. I always believed that, but now that the power to do something about it is in my hands, I'm just not sure. This isn't just an ideological stance. This is the real world. I don't know all of the details here. I'm just putting together what I can figure out from this video and from what's been publicly reported. For all I know, this video is a fake. I have absolutely no idea. I can't just put out something like this, knowing the consequences could start a war, when I'm not even sure if it's real!" Derrick yells, beginning to become borderline hysterical.

  "All right, all right. Calm down. There's no reason you have to do anything about it tonight," I say.

  "How can I sleep knowing that this has happened, though? What if I'm way off about all of this, and it wasn't even our government that had a hand in this? What if it was some other group, another government's military, or hell, what if it was another terrorist organization? What if it was someone looking to start a war?" Derrick asks.

  "What do you mean?" I ask.

  "I'm saying, what if the idea that this terrorist organization having access to nuclear weapons actually starts a war? We're going to have to respond to this, right? We're going to send our military into Uskzil to round up whatever remnants of this group are left, aren't we? What if all of that happens under false pretenses? How can we ever possibly know for sure? No doubt whatever is actually happening, the wheels are already in motion to cover it up."

  "When did this happen?" I ask Derrick.

  "About four hours ago, according to the reports that can be trusted."

  "Then they couldn't have gotten very far in their cover-up, could they?"

  "No. Like I said, no one can even get close to that area right now. It's radioactive. Even the United States government can't get the kind of equipment that would be needed to safely enter that area in so little time."

  "That's true, but I don't need equipment."

  "What are you saying?"

  "I'm saying I could go there. I can see it for myself and let you know what I find. From there, you can decide what to do."

  "Is it safe?"

  "Is anything I do safe?"

  "You've got a point, I guess. You can't teleport there though."

  "Sure I can. I saw what the area looks like in the video; that's enough for me to get there."

  "That's not what I mean. I mean you can't just suddenly appear in that area. It's too hot. Too dangerous. We don't know what the effects of the radiation would have on you. You need to be smart about this. If you approach the area from the south, you'll avoid the fallout and be able to move slowly enough that you can get out of there quickly if something doesn't feel right."

  "That's a good idea," I say.

  "I'm older than you. I'm full of good ideas," Derrick says with a smirk. "I won't be able to maintain contact with you once you're close. The radioactivity will knock out all radio and satellite communications for sure. You'll be one hundred percent on your own."

  "Were you planning on coming to get me five thousand miles away in a nuclear wasteland in case something did go wrong?"

  "No, I just don't like the idea of you flying in there blind and me not having eyes or ears on you."

  "I'll be fine. Don't worry."

  "I don't care if you're a metahuman, you're still my little brother. It's my job to worry. It's been my job to worry about you for the past ten years," Derrick says.

  "Look, if anything is weird or doesn't feel right, I'll get out of there."

  "Promise me."

  "I promise."

  Chapter 25

  If I kept promises
like the one I just gave Derrick, I'd be a pretty terrible superhero. I'm not stupid, and I have no intention of unnecessarily risking my neck, but flying around the world to investigate the site of a nuclear detonation isn't very high up there on the “smart, safe things to do” list. So, if I were worried about being safe, it wouldn't have been a good idea to come out here in the first place, especially this soon after a nuclear detonation, and especially when I have no idea what to expect.

  The first six thousand miles or so go by in a blur. At this point, I'm pretty familiar with the Pacific Ocean and don't need to worry about taking it slow when I fly over, as long as I keep my altitude between five hundred and thousand feet. High enough so that I don't create a tidal wave as I fly at Mach whatever, but still low enough that I don't accidentally slice a plane in half.

  It's happened before during the First Wave. An unknown meta flew straight into a passenger plane flying at thirty five thousand feet. He put a hole clean through the cabin so quickly that the plane just exploded due to the sudden change in cabin pressure. Everyone on board died, and it wasn't until months later that the pieces were put together, and it was discovered that a meta was the cause. This was at the very beginning of the First Wave. The incident happened when metas were just a rumor, an urban legend. No one believed they actually existed, and by the time it became public knowledge, the crash was a distant memory for most. By the time a meta had been pinned as the cause, there were already a number of villainous metas, like Jones, all over the world, causing the kind of havoc that made an airplane crash look insignificant by comparison.

  The last few hundred miles I take slowly, careful not to overshoot my target, but I’m also careful not to fly myself into a situation where I'm not fully prepared for what to expect. In the distance, I can see the faint remnants of a mushroom cloud. If this isn't the right place, I'll eat my metabands. As I get closer, I feel pins and needles all over my body. The sensation isn't painful, but it isn't exactly pleasant either, especially when I'm not used to feeling a whole hell of a lot with these bands activated. It must be the radiation from the nuclear fallout. I'd better not stick around here too long, just in case.

  The air is thick with smoke and dust. The closer and closer I fly to where the bomb went off, the less I can see. Time to switch over to X-ray and infrared vision. X-ray offers almost nothing, a desolate wasteland in an area where there was never too much to begin with. An infrared scan reveals a little bit more. What I see, though, I don't like.

  There's a white-hot area approximately where the bomb went off. In the few months I've had the ability to see things along the infrared spectrum, I've ever seen anything quite like it. The color is unlike anything I've ever seen before. A white brighter than any white I could ever imagine. Looking into it feels like looking into the sun. I've never seen the aftermath of a nuclear explosion before, and I hope I never will again.

  Something feels wrong. Even a bomb couldn't produce this kind of energy. It's not like the government has never tried using nuclear technology to destroy, or at the very least break apart, metabands before, but it's never had any effect. The metabands always emerged from the tests without so much as a scratch on them.

  Something very bad happened when they dropped that bomb, though. There must have been a reaction with the metabands. I can't get close enough to see what that reaction is. I'm still at least five miles away, but I can tell that it's something that shouldn’t have been done.

  Chapter 26

  I hate Mondays. Not in the Garfield kinda way, but in the “I spent all weekend being a superhero and now I just want to sleep instead of learn calculus” kinda way. Yesterday's trip to the nuclear detonation site affected me in ways I'm not sure about yet, both mentally and physically. It was hard seeing that type of destruction and knowing so many innocent people were essentially murdered for the sake of protecting metabands.

  I have to keep telling myself that the havoc those metabands could have caused in the wrong hands would have been a hundredfold worse. That team knew they were risking their lives every time they embarked on a mission like that, but it still doesn't make it any easier to stop thinking about. For every positive the metabands have brought, there's been dozens of negatives. For every cat saved out of a tree, there’s some mass murder in a shopping mall or town square because someone is trying to rob a bank and can’t control his or her new powers.

  Derrick drops me off early before heading downtown for work. He's a little more than paranoid about the information he was given over the weekend and understandably doesn't want to be home when a metahuman who's related to him, and thereby somewhat bound to protect him, isn't home too. I feel like I'm still half asleep as I find my way to my locker, desperate to get rid of my heavy backpack.

  "Hey," I hear a voice say from behind me. I turn. It's Sarah.

  "Hey," I say back, sounding a little more excited to see her than she is to see me.

  "Can we talk for a minute?" she asks.

  "Sure, as long as this isn't one of those 'I don't think this is working' type talks," I say with a laugh. The laugh hits the floor dead. Sarah winces slightly and frowns. This is one of those talks, isn't it? Both my stomach and heart drop.

  "Let's go somewhere a little more private," Sarah says, and I follow her around the corner and away from the busy lockers.

  "Connor, I really like you. I hope you know that," she begins.

  "I really like you too, Sarah. I'm sorry that I haven't always been—" It’s all I get out before she interrupts me.

  "It's not that, Connor. It's just that I'm not sure if this is a great time, for either of us. You're busy, and I totally understand that. I'm busy too. It's not either of our faults. It's just not the right time, I think."

  "I'm sorry. I know I'm not around as much as I should be. I can work on that."

  "But you weren't around when I really needed you. You weren't around when that psychopath almost killed me at the circus."

  "I know, I know. Believe me, I wish I'd never gone to get that burger. I regret that constantly," I say, only half meaning it. I wish I had been there for Sarah, next to her, comforting her. But the reality is that if I had been there, I wouldn't have been able to activate my metabands without exposing my identity. And if I hadn't activated my metabands, she might very well be dead right now.

  "It's not just that. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have even brought that up. It's actually more complicated than that," she says.

  "What is it then?" I ask in return.

  "It's my dad," she says.

  I exhale in slight frustration. She doesn't even know who her dad is, or what he really does.

  "Your dad doesn't like me," I say, more of a statement than a question since I feel like I already know the truth.

  "No, it's not that at all. Actually, he does kinda like you."

  "Great, maybe I can date him then," I say in a bad attempt at lightening a pretty dark situation.

  "This isn't funny, Connor. Do you think this is easy for me? I really care about you. I really wanted this to work. It's just that it can't. Not right now."

  "Then when?" I ask.

  "I'm not sure. I'm not sure if it ever can."

  "Where is all of this coming from?" I ask.

  "You didn't let me finish before. I started telling you it had to do with my dad. He wants to pull me out of school."

  "What?"

  "He says it's getting too dangerous here. That we're right in the middle of the city and the meta attacks are getting worse and worse. He's worried about me."

  "So what, you're just not going to go to school anymore?" I ask.

  "No. I've already been accepted into Burgundy University next year."

  "What? How? We're only juniors. You're already accepted into an Ivy league school?" I ask, somewhat incredulously.

  "You don't believe that I could get into such a good school?"

  "No, I expected you to get into a great school. You're the smartest person I know," I say. This actually is
a lie. Midnight's the smartest person I know, but if we're going to take everything into account, Sarah's by far the smartest well adjusted person I know. In other words, she's the smartest person I know who doesn't spend the majority of her time on rooftops. "So you're just going to leave then? Go off to college at sixteen?"

  "Well, no. The fall semester has already begun, so I'd have to wait until at least the spring, if not the following fall. I'm not entirely sure yet. My dad and I are still trying to work out the exact details."

  "And you're just not going to go to school in the meantime?" I ask.

  "Well, no. Not exactly. My dad arranged for me to get an internship at his job."

  My jaw nearly hits the ground. The room seems like it's spinning. Time seems to slow down, but not in the good way where it actually is slowing down, when I have the metabands on and I'm moving at supersonic speed. What is actually happening is my brain can't comprehend what I'm being told and is desperately trying to work out all the permutations of what Sarah has just told me. All the while, Sarah is standing in front of me, likely wondering why I'm so shocked by this. There's only one question I can think to ask.

  "At the accounting firm?"

  "Yeah," she says, but her eyes quickly dart off to the left.

  Midnight hasn't trained me as much as he's wanted to, but between his training and having lived for sixteen years on Earth, I can tell she's lying. I wasn't sure if her father had informed her of the entire truth about where he actually works, but her expression says it all. She knows damn well what he does now. Her insecurity with lying to me indicates she just recently found out for herself what it is that her dad spends his long hours doing.

  Suddenly, everything makes sense. Of course she can't have a boyfriend while she's interning at a top-secret government facility, working on God knows what. My natural instinct is to blurt out that I already know everything about her dad. Well, not everything, but more than she thinks I know. Obviously this would be probably the absolute worst thing I could do in this situation, so the idea doesn't stay at the forefront of my mind for very long.