Gravitas: A Supervillain Story

by Ben Mason

  He passed out right as they went down the steps, and it was thanks to Siv’s strength they were able to move him at any great rate. Christoph was willing to lighten his mass, but decided against it. He was the one person who knew the danger they were about to face—

  Because you refuse to tell the so-called love of your life and the father of the child you endangered the part you played in making it.

  —and he needed to have as much strength as possible. Besides, he was wary of using any more power than he needed. Not after seeing what had happened to Dominic.

  He winced. He had lied after calling Siv and John to help him collect his former protégé. They had asked what happened and it took all of Christoph’s resolve not to snap in anger, asking why Siv never told him what the Watchers were really like. He used the anger instead to lie, telling them they had been stuck in a mental trap that turned on its creator.

  In a way it was the truth.

  In a way.

  The stench of those words made Christoph’s stomach revolt. He had never lied so much before, kept his dealings so deep beneath the surface. He may have been a villain, may have robbed banks and stolen artifacts, but he had never pretended to be anything else. Now in the span of a few days all of his credibility, the foundation of his life’s code, had been washed away.

  “It’s officially Monday,” John said, staring at his watch. “People are going to be pissed when they find out they missed a day.”

  “They won’t,” Siv said. “Find out, that is. We tell the government when these things happen and they come up with some excuse to explain why everyone’s clocks are wrong. No one believes it, but everyone buys it.”

  “So wait, you’re telling me the entire Chronal Shift because of Kutharian underwater fireworks was totally made up?”

  “You can’t tell me you thought it was real?” Christoph asked, chuckling.

  John shook his head. “What’s next? No Santa?”

  “Don’t get me started on that lecherous prick,” Siv said, picking up the pace as they reached the entrance to the Summit.

  The tunnel had a glowing soft light across from them, marking the end of the walk. A padded red carpet started at their feet and led up to a moving escalator so wide it allowed for Siv, John, and Dominic to get on without needing to squeeze in. Based on the size of some of the captains of industry Christoph had seen, he wasn’t surprised.

  Before he got to the top, Christoph smelled the polished brass and wood. When he reached the top, he saw a polished black bar with several seats at the counter. One was filled with a silver-haired fox of a woman, predator stance and eyes in a suit that cost almost as much as his. The bartender behind the counter was sleek and young and in the middle of making a drink bound to be stale by the time he finished. The mirror was half-covered in shelves with designer liquor placed on it, labels out.

  There were no booths or tables to put Dominic on, so they laid him on the soft carpet.

  John wiped the sweat from his brow. By now his muscle shirt was drenched. He was tired, but didn’t appear to be exhausted, a skill picked up from the occasional overnight shift. “Should have taken off the whole arm,” he said, panting.

  Christoph tried to smile. “Anyone need a drink?”

  “Water,” Siv said.

  “Same,” John echoed.

  “Boring do-gooders,” Christoph said. Gods in heaven he needed a drink. He needed more than one. He needed to—for the first time since he had turned twenty-one—get good and properly drunk. And the best drink for the job was a gin and tonic.

  Like the one facing him on the far end of the bar counter, a wedge of lime pushed onto the rim. Staring at it, he took a sip. The faint sweetness told him it was Plymouth, his favorite. Glancing at the coaster below, his eyes tightened, his power expanding out a few feet by instinct.

  The note read:

  Hello Christoph,

  Glad to see you’re alive.

  Murakawa

  The little man came out behind the counter a second later, two bottles of water in his hands. “For the lady and my fellow colleague. I’ll trade you for the man on the floor.”

  John’s gun was out and trained on Murakawa’s head instantly. “My daughter.”

  “Is safe, I assure you,” Murakawa said, holding up his hands. He still had on his lab coat, his silver hair sticking up. His thick mustache barely held back the large smile under it. “I love children. Never had any of my own. Occupational hazard.”

  “What woman would have a child with you?” Siv said, pulling her shield from her back.

  “I’m not talking about a woman. I’m talking about children. You don’t need a woman to make a child. You don’t even need human DNA,” Murakawa said as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “But I didn’t come here to argue. I came here to make a trade. Your daughter’s safety and well-being for the odious character you have on the floor.”

  His eyes scanned Dominic and he frowned. “He was in much better shape when I found him last.”

  “There were some complications,” Christoph said, slipping into his familiar patter with the doctor. He struggled against it. Murakawa had taken a child. One who Christoph loved. No amount of professionalism was able to forgive that. “And you were supposed to meet us at First Selenium Trust.”

  “Yes, well, I suspected you may have been unwilling to deal unjustly with me if we had.” He scanned the room and gave a small shrug of his shoulders and a wink. “Not that I would have blamed you if you hadn’t. We left the table of proper decorum a while ago. My fault really.”

  He stepped forward.

  “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t blast you,” John said, his teeth clenched.

  Murakawa considered this, massaging his mustache with his thumb and forefinger. Sighing, dropping his hand, he looked up at John. “Can’t think of one. Go right ahead.”

  John didn’t hesitate. The beam shot right in the middle of Murakawa’s head, ripping right between his eyebrows and into the wall. Blue light fizzled and sparked from the wound before it closed up again.

  “Feel better?” Murakawa asked, genuine sympathy in his voice.

  John squeezed off two more shots, this time to the groin. He holstered his gun. “No.”

  “Solid hologram. I’m not capable of taking your friend with me. Too heavy. I am, however, able to hand out drinks,” he said, placing the bottles of water on the ground.

  Siv and John eyed them skeptically.

  Walking closer, Murakawa leaned forward, starting to examine Dominic.

  Christoph stepped between them. “I can’t let you take him, Murakawa. You have no idea what you’re dealing with.”

  Murakawa’s face wrinkled at the use of his last name without an honorific. There was hurt in his eyes. He blinked and it vanished. “You’re right. I’m not sure what I’m dealing with and my test materials are subpar. It turns out the crystal doesn’t work with non-powered entities. A disappointment to be sure, but remedied.”

  “Then use me,” Christoph said, straightening. “I’m willing.”

  “Always the gentleman. You have no idea how many years I wondered about you, Christoph. About what made you so different than the others. Why you were so honorable when the others, heroes, villains—really they were all just labels,” he said, waving his hand dismissively, “were willing to do such deplorable things. I admired you, old friend. Still do.”

  “That was why you tried to kill me,” Christoph said. He heard Siv suck in a breath, heard John’s hand slap on the butt of his gun. He hadn’t wanted to come out this way. Now it was too late.

  “A necessary measure. I wasn’t sure if the crystal was capable of having two masters. Or if you were willing to give it up. I saw what it did to Avros before he disappeared. In a way, I thought I was saving you. Apologies for doubting your resolve. As for your request, I’m sorry. It has to be the telepath.”

  Christoph gripped his glass, squeezing it until he thought it would break apart in his hands
. Referring to Dominic’s powers confirmed his worst fears. “Murakawa this thing is insatiable. Whatever you plan on doing it won’t play along.”

  “We’ll see,” Murakawa said. Glancing down at his watch, he tapped the polished metal disk once, a hologram appearing on the dial before he tapped it again, making it disappear. “Now, you’ll find my aircraft, well, hovercraft—it needed to shift forms after your impressive little acrobatic maneuver—outside the front doors. You have about four minutes and twenty-nine seconds.”

  “Or?” Christoph said.

  “Hmm. Oh, yes, right. Or the crate I’ve placed in the trust’s lobby will explode with your daughter in it.” Smiling at them all, he gave them a small bow. “I’d hurry if I were you.”

  Chapter 24

  John was the first to move, heading toward the door.

  Murakawa’s hologram popped in front of it blocking him.

  “Move.”

  “No, thank you,” Murakawa said. “I need you, Doctor. See, I want to make sure my patient remains healthy as he is escorted to the vehicle. That means you and Ms. Moller need to take him there. Safely, might I add.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” John said.

  “Four minutes and three seconds. I’m afraid I’m not.”

  Christoph watched as John balled his fists, the muscles in his arms tensing. He took off his watch and handed it over. “If we don’t make it right before the time limit, can you tear the crate up?”

  “Without hurting her, I swear,” Christoph said. Even if the fog claimed him, even if he had to tear up Murakawa to do it. Over John’s shoulder he spied Siv. Her eyes were starting to shutter, the warmth she had toward him starting to cool. When all of this was over, he had the distinct impression he was going to jail.

  He deserved nothing less.

  By the time Christoph had fastened the watch onto his wrist and set the alarm, John and Siv had pulled Dominic to his feet and shouldered one side each. His face was hidden by white tendrils of hair. For all his size, the boy seemed fragile now, like he was made of porcelain.

  I’ll come get you, Christoph promised. It sounded hollow.

  No. Focus on the girl.

  The watch showed there were three minutes and fifty seconds left. Christoph headed toward the door. Murakawa’s hologram remained in place.

  “Do you mind moving?” Christoph asked, trying to ignore the ticking from his left wrist.

  “No. Pardon my manners. It’s been a long day,” Murakawa said. He turned blue and then vanished, no doubt on the other side of the door. Opening it, Christoph had a perfect view of the trust standing across from him, large Corinthian pillars, a sign at the top in gold filigree. Hovering above it were a few heroes on watch duty, suspended in time by the same glittering light as the rest of the world.

  Gritting his teeth, moving down the steps, he checked left and right. At the end of the street was the hovercraft.

  “Hmm. Must have drifted off,” Murakawa’s voice mused from behind. “These things happen. Probably from the damaged AI. May have short-circuited when I sheared off the wings.”

  Siv and John moved down the steps slowly without saying a word, watching as the craft drifted closer to the ground and started opening the bay door.

  “Three minutes and thirty, if you’re wondering,” Murakawa said. The smile on his face was neighborly.

  “When this is all done,” Christoph said whispering, “I’m going to kill you.”

  “If you’re not too busy,” Murakawa added before Christoph was able to get away.

  Moving down the street, checking every possible angle, he kept a steady walk. There was no point in expending energy. Time was on his side and it wasn’t as if the trust was a foreign entity. He had robbed the place, despite its super support, half a dozen times before graduating to far loftier endeavors. But it was the drop for a far more precious cargo. Inspecting the premises for traps was worth the extra minute.

  Moving toward the double doors, he checked around them, giving each a light inspection and touch before shoving them open and then leaping to one side. There was no explosion or flare. From across the street he felt Murakawa’s hologram chuckling, making his ears burn red.

  There was more than enough tarnished honor to give his once friend a slow death, Christoph decided. How slow depended on the next few minutes and how they treated Julie Kimble.

  Stepping inside the bank, he ignored the marble and the high-domed ceiling and moved straight to the metal box in the center of the floor. What he saw worried him.

  The crate was long with smooth sides. Longer than it needed to be to hold a single small girl. Beneath it the tile wasn’t cracked, meaning it had been placed with care. “Julie?” Christoph called.

  There was no reply, which told him nothing. The inside may have been soundproofed. Checking his watch, he saw he had two minutes left. He tried to control his breathing. All of him struggled not to rip the doors off, imagining Murakawa as he did it, the little toad twisting in his hands, screaming, begging to—

  He breathed out, forcing his excess of emotion to go with it.

  Think about anything else.

  Think about Siv leaving you. Think about John no longer letting you near his daughter. Think about Robert putting you back in jail.

  Think about Avros.

  The last name jarred him. Whatever had happened to Avros and whatever plans Murakawa had, they were linked to his old apprentice’s powers. Between the helmet and the alien technology and the crystal, the influence and power Murakawa was about to wield bordered on godly. And Dominic had made mental tunnels into the other supervillains…

  His eyes widened. Murakawa was going to make every supervillain his puppet dancing on strings. He was going to take over the entire racket with a single stroke. Or worse. Take over the world.

  Placing one hand gingerly on the crate’s double doors, he tapped it. There was no response. They were running out of time.

  He decided to take a chance.

  Latching on to the grooves of the doors’ edges, Christoph started working his fingers deeper into them. It was too risky to try to increase the mass of the crate, too many possibilities for traps.

  The fog rushed into his lungs filling him. Rage swarmed in him putting images in his head of striking the door, smashing it to pieces until the metal bounced around, carving up the inside like flak-forged hornets.

  He focused on the door. The fog was returning quicker each time, gaining more purchase in his mind. Gaining more strength. When he had ripped open a hole the size of a baseball, Christoph leaned toward it and yelled inside.

  “Julie?”

  “Mr. Morgan?”

  Relief flooded him.

  “Stand back, Julie. I’m going to break you out.”

  “Don’t, Mr. Morgan. It’s hot and loud up in here. Like a bunch of engines are right in my ears.”

  The child wasn’t making any sense. The trust’s floor was quiet and it was quite cool in the chill of the dark night.

  His first instinct was to step back. He brushed it off. If there was a trap, it had activated by now, and he wasn’t going to save his life while abandoning hers.

  Leaning forward, Christoph listened as his head buzzed. It wouldn’t stop. He tried to force it to quiet, to try to hear what Julie was talking about, when he realized it wasn’t his head. It was the watch’s alarm.

  They had run out of time.

  Chapter 25

  The crate exploded.

  The blast knocked Christoph off his feet and into a pillar. It was a miracle none of his ribs split apart. If the fog had chosen to give him any help, he wasn’t aware of it. He struggled to think past the pain.

  Standing up, his ears ringing, he stared at the doors. They had been ripped apart, hanging from the lower hinges, creaking as they bent toward the floor. He choked, scrambling on all fours his hands cut as they moved over the scattered debris.

  All thoughts of dignity left him. He didn’t care about his name or h
is honor or how he ended his days. The girl. Please let the girl be all right, he prayed knowing there was no way she could be.

  As the smoke drifted away, a horrible image came into his mind. Julie’s hand stretched out for his, the rest of her body vaporized, bits of bone sticking out of the wrist. Or worse, nothing at all. An empty grave like the one the Kimbles were going to have to give her when this was done. Christoph fell on his face and started to sob.

  “Mr. Morgan?”

  He sat bolt upright.

  Julie walked out of the smoke, her face lined with worry. “Where are—?” Before she was able to finish the sentence, she turned blue and disintegrated. Christoph thought back to what Murakawa had said. More importantly what he hadn’t said. At no point had he promised to give back John’s daughter. And only John had said Murakawa was going to kill her. Then again he had shot Dominic’s hand off when the doctor had wanted his specimen whole. From what little he had seen of her hologram, she was healthy and unharmed. It was a small comfort, one John wasn’t going to find any joy in.

  Standing up, Christoph buttoned his jacket.

  It was time to deliver some bad news.

  “I don’t believe you.”

  John’s gun was pointed at Christoph’s head. Tears were streaming down his cheeks. “You’re lying.”

  “I wish I was, and I’m glad I’m not. John, she’s still alive.”

  “He promised—”

  “He promised you nothing. It’s how villains work.” Siv said the last statement with an edge in her voice as she stepped between the two men. She pulled John into a hug. The doctor collapsed in her arms, shuddering twice, then pulled back up. “You’re sure she’s alive.”

  “If her hologram is the same as Murakawa’s, yes,” Christoph said. The sky was starting to pale. It was about an hour before dawn and the night of sleeplessness was starting to catch up to him. He wanted to crawl into his bed and never wake up. Worse, he wanted to do it without changing into his bedclothes. He hadn’t been so tired since…actually since never. He tried to brush it aside.