Gravitas: A Supervillain Story

by Ben Mason

  “All subjective. In another hour I’ll have the problem nailed down.”

  “In another hour half of Selenium is going to be dead.” Christoph tried to regain his composure. He turned to Julie. “Are you okay?”

  Julie stared up at him. She was dirty from sweat and her bun was disheveled. He saw the fear in her eyes. She had seen whatever the crystal had done to Dominic, had been twisted in its presence. Even so, she set her jaw and gave one tiny nod, making her (without a doubt) the bravest person Christoph had ever met.

  “Of course she is. I’m not a monster,” Murakawa said, poking the pen into her ribs, making the girl twitch a little. “Now let’s keep it that way. Give me an hour, Christoph, and I’ll rectify this.”

  “It’s over, Murakawa. You’ve failed.”

  “IT ISN’T OVER UNTIL I DECIDE,” the doctor bellowed. His eyes were wide and frantic and in their depths, Christoph thought he saw a dull glow. Not green, but not human either. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this, Christoph. All the years of handing over death rays, encrypted technology, seeing it used to torture, to hide crimes.” His voice broke at the last word. “Heroes and villains. It all became meaningless after a while. More like the powerful exploiting the powerless.”

  “Like Light Beacon?”

  “He was one of the least.”

  “I found out today,” Christoph said.

  “I’m sure. You never did fit in with the others.”

  Christoph checked Julie. Her eyes had glazed over. The sheer pressure of being near the crystal and all of the day’s events, and now this last turn had drained her. “Murakawa,” Christoph said, softening his voice. “You’re threatening a child.”

  The doctor’s eyes sharpened and blurred. His shoulders sagged.

  “You didn’t see Avros. I did. I saw what the crystal made him into. What it left him with. I understand what you’re feeling.”

  “The great Gravitas understands what it feels like to be helpless?”

  “No, I don’t. But she does. Let me go.”

  Murakawa started to let the pen fall then jabbed it again into Julie’s ribs, the glow coming back into his eyes. “It’s too late,” he said, tapping the button harder, letting a few more sparks out.

  Julie stiffened, falling to the floor.

  Christoph grabbed his gun and fired and his old friend fell to the floor, thankfully not on top of the girl. His hand, and the gun in it, felt heavy and he felt a little more empty. Staring at the doctor, he was surprised how…anti-climactic it was. The man who had planned for every single contingency brought down by a single child. Perhaps the crystal was able to take from non-supers.

  “You get him?” she asked.

  Christoph broke from his thoughts, surprised. “Yes,” he said as she dragged herself up. “Did you plan that?”

  She tried to shrug. “Always let your opponent underestimate you.”

  “Well done.” He handed her the gun. “I have to go do something. Wait here for me, and if I don’t come back in ten minutes, leave. If anyone comes through the door, be a dear. Shoot them.”

  “Cool,” she said staring at the gun.

  Christoph moved down the hall.

  “You’ll come back?”

  “Trust me, child.”

  Standing up straight, she crinkled her nose. “I’m not a child,” she said, trying to smile as she sniffled back tears.

  “Of course not. This is the second time this week I’ve forgotten that. Now I feel guilty. And what do we do with guilt, Julie?”

  “Exploit it?”

  “What would you like?”

  “For you to come back home.”

  “I’ll do my best,” he said.

  Chapter 32

  The hallway of the house extended farther than it should have, the wood curling in like tendrils of smoke bending to meet the other side. Each of Christoph’s footsteps echoed. He was walking into a breathing tunnel. The air was thick and it was getting harder to breathe. Pressure pushed at him from all sides, and a buzzing ran into one ear and lodged itself in his brain.

  Deep inside, the fog moved slowly in a circle, stalking him. Waiting to see what he would do.

  Reaching the end of the hall, Christoph took in the view. Dominic hung halfway out from the wall, the lower half of his body along with his arms embedded. He looked like he was a figurehead on the Dutchman’s ship raised up straight from hell. The crystal was wedged onto the middle of the helmet. His head was slumped forward and drool was coming out of his mouth.

  “Dominic.”

  The boy didn’t move.

  “Is this like when we were in Nagoya and you were so bored listening to the heist prep you pretended to fall asleep?”

  A little more drool puddled to the floor.

  “There I was, mortified. And the whole thing was only two hours long.”

  “Only?” Dominic grunted.

  Christoph sighed in relief.

  “How long have I been out?” he asked. Except it came out Huh ‘lng ‘ve uh bun out?

  “Quite a while. You’ve missed quite the party.”

  The boy’s eyes came up. They were bright green and inside them was a creature trying to burst out and rip the life from Christoph’s lungs. They were half hidden behind crust, dirt, redness, and the glaze of leftover wetness from tears.

  “I dreamed something awful. All the supers killing themselves, killing people.” He didn’t ask the obvious question.

  “I’m sorry, Dominic.”

  The boy tried to smile. “Don’t suppose you have a chainsaw?”

  Christoph made a show of patting his jacket before giving up. “Not on me, I’m afraid. Must have left it in my spare.”

  “My luck. It’s spreading, isn’t it? I can feel this thing digging deeper. It’s working its way down to my core, Chris. It’s eating me.” The boy lowered his head again. “What a way to go.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me. Kill me.”

  “What?”

  “It needs me. If you kill me, it’s all over.”

  Christoph hesitated. He still had John’s gun. And despite the crystal’s strength it was obvious his connection to it, combined with Dominic’s built-in gate, made him able to resist it.

  “Don’t start getting honorable on me now, Dominic.”

  “Cerebrus.”

  “Whatever,” Christoph said, rolling his eyes. “You hate the world.”

  “Yeah, but I still live in it. And you know me. Hate letting go of control.”

  His hand drifted to the gun, sweating. Killing Dominic would end this standoff. And put another death on his conscience.

  Christoph stepped forward. The fog was everywhere. In his lungs and his chest, his heart and his brain. The gun was now a siren song, calling to him. Touching him with a little of his old power, whispering promises. Promises of a new body, of his injuries being healed. Of having more power than he had ever dreamed. The power to save Siv and Julie and the Kimbles and resurrect any of the dead he wanted if he only killed one young man.

  A young man he had once seen as a son. The fog was trying to have them tear each other apart, eat whatever was leftover. It had been calling to him ever since he had touched it, trying to destroy him while twisting his desires.

  And there was the answer, staring him in the face. He hoped, because if he was wrong, then there wasn’t going to be any chance to fix it.

  “No,” he said, letting his hand fall away. “This is my failing, my responsibility. It’s a matter—”

  “—of principle. Man, you never change. Consider it our little secret. Don’t worry, I won’t tell,” he said, moving his trapped arms to make the point.

  “Remember when you first came to me?”

  “Oh yeah.”

  “You were all of sixteen and your leather jacket was a little too large. You also had a ridiculous peach-fuzz mustache.”

  “Go ahead, rub it in,” Dominic chuckled.

  “I thought you’d
last four weeks. Instead, you learned and broke out on your own. I never agreed with your methods, but they were yours and you stuck to them.”

  Christoph studied Dominic’s face. The younger man had a shine to his eyes unlike the sickly light behind Murakawa’s. That decided it. “Dominic.”

  “Yeah, Chris?”

  “I’ve got a plan, but I need your help.”

  “You got it,” he said. The fog danced in the air and inside of them, confused.

  “I need you to trust me and to take the lead when I give it to you.”

  Dominic grinned. “About time. Been waiting twenty years to hear you say that. What do you need?”

  “Open up to me. Let me know when you do.”

  Dominic leaned his head down. His veins glowed green at the edges of his temples. “Three. Two. One.”

  Christoph grabbed the gem as he opened the gate in his mind.

  Power overwhelmed him. He had never had so much in his life. Every internal tear in his body was fixed and every bone moved back into place. As long as he had the power.

  Which was for about all of one second.

  He took every ounce of power he had in his body, every bit of the energy that made him Gravitas, and handed it back over to Dominic. The one thing he had wanted. The desire the crystal had used against him time and time again. He willed his former apprentice his power, his energy, his very life. He trusted the young man.

  For a second he felt Dominic’s mind buckle and then it joined him. The young man bound their minds together and attacked. Like the old days.

  The crystal, wherever it was from, wasn’t used to two entities standing together. It had multiple puppets it had bound, but it wasn’t capable of accepting two hosts. Not at the same time. It screamed in agony, scrambling, trying to latch on to greed, or fear, or pride and found none. It shriveled until it was the size of a small ember and then exploded in one last gasp, rushing forward, trying to sweep both of their consciousnesses under.

  Christoph struggled to meet it before being pushed aside as Dominic’s consciousness stepped in front, taking the brunt of the attack. The last of the fog broke and crumbled into ash. Their connection started to crumble. As the last bits fell apart, he heard Dominic’s voice echo in his mind.

  Try not to screw it up, old man.

  Chapter 33

  The light was gone from the room when Christoph pulled back to reality. But even without any, he saw Dominic’s lifeless body. The crystal’s presence was shattered.

  And so were his powers. Forever. He was Gravitas no more.

  Montmoore shuddered around him and started to sink, the wood ripping apart, making popping sounds the way ribs did when they broke. The whole island was shaking, starting to descend. The rest of his energy left him. He was rooted to the spot. So be it. This was a fine way to go. He stared down at his clothes. They looked like something an MFA student might have painted after seeing his loan payment form.

  He tried to straighten up in vain and gave up. He had even lost one of his jacket’s buttons. Thankfully, no one would notice when they sifted him out of the wreckage. Now he just needed to find a place to sit down and rest.

  “Mr. Morgan!”

  Or not. Julie was still on the ship. He braced himself against the wall, trying to ignore the lurching motion, and moved forward. He was ready to cut his leg off.

  “I’m here, Julie. I’m all right.”

  Moving down the tunnel, he caught sight of her running to him. As he fell forward, she supported him, slinging his arm over her shoulder.

  “We need to leave,” she said, her jaw set. Just like her father. Or her mother. They moved out of the fetid, ruined house and into the open air.

  The smell wasn’t much better.

  There were bodies strewn on the ground. Not too many, but Christoph noted them, trying to shield Julie from them. There were scorch marks on the armor and spandex and a few yards off an older man in black fatigues, slumped on the ground.

  They moved over to him. Julie placed her fingers on his neck, checking his pulse. “He’s alive. I’m guessing some internal damage. He needs a doctor.”

  “So do I,” Christoph said.

  The ground lurched again. They were starting to descend. He saw Julie’s hands shaking. Leaning down, Christoph gathered Julie in his arms and held her tight. He didn’t have his powers anymore, and without them there wasn’t a thing he could do to save her. All he could do was be there and make the end a little less scary. The island hurtled down, gaining speed. The sounds of building tops exploding rang in his ears. He squeezed Julie tighter. The first large tremor shook the aircraft.

  Julie choked. The poor child didn’t have any tears left.

  Another hit. Then another. Each one less severe than the last. The ground didn’t crumble beneath them. They were still in the air a minute later. And they were moving.

  Christoph pushed himself up, struggling. Julie helped him. They moved over to the edge to check what he already suspected. Ringed around the craft were Vanguard and two dozen other heroes and villains.

  Several of the supers on the ground started to move, a few of them rolling off the side and flying down to help support the others.

  Robert grunted, tapping his rifle, his voice slurring from the blood loss. “Did I mention there’s a stun feature to this? Pretty useful when you want to incapacitate your opponent for a limited amount of time.”

  “Don’t talk, you idiot. You’ll hemorrhage.” He tried to hide the relief in his voice.

  “Sure, sure. Oh, and, Christoph?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m thinking a green and brown plaid vest with matching pants. It goes with your eyes.”

  Epilogue

  “Thank your mother for the cookies, Julie,” Christoph said handing the dessert plate back to her. The child gave him a strong smile and stared at the empty dish for a second.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “You didn’t save any for me?”

  “I should have,” Christoph said, biting back a smile.

  “I mean, I did get kidnapped.”

  He waved his hand. “And you helped save the day. That makes you a hero. And heroes seldom get cookies.”

  “What about you?” she said, crossing her arms.

  “Technically, I wasn’t the hero. Dominic was.”

  “You mean Cerebrus?”

  Inwardly he winced. The mayor and committee had placed a statue in Plato Park to honor his fallen comrade. He wasn’t sure if it was a compliment or the ultimate insult.

  “Fine, yes. Besides, I haven’t gone grocery shopping yet, so…no cookies.”

  “Liar,” she said, sticking out her tongue before running off. Cheeky imp. He was going to have to hide the macaroons better once he went back inside. That would teach her.

  Standing up from his rocking chair, Christoph felt a tiny twinge race along his knee. It was doing much better after the fourth surgery. John really was a wizard with a scalpel. Of course he had some help from Murakawa’s medical equipment rescued from the wreckage. Standing under the shade of the awning of his new house, he closed his eyes and basked in the new day.

  The weather was warm and bright, the Kimbles were healthy (if a bit better armed). Robert had taken his early retirement—after his supervisors begged him to stay. (Christoph had tried to beg out of their round of golf because of his leg. It almost worked until Robert reminded him there was such a thing as mini golf. They had looked like idiots putting a small ball into a giant clown mouth with those trousers on.) Siv recovered with some of her powers still intact.

  And Gravitas retired because of the loss of his superpowers. One corner of his mouth fell. There had been a price. Siv hadn’t spoken to him since she woke up. Murakawa was gone. So was Dominic. And Christoph had turned into another old man with nothing but his memories.

  There were days he woke up and the minor aches and pains overwhelmed him, letting him know what he had been reduced to and who he had lost on his way there. On
those days he lay in bed and cried.

  Still, it was a warm day and he had good neighbors. It was more than he deserved.

  A car horn broke his reveries. It was a bright yellow BMW, and as the engine turned off and the driver got out he saw it was Siv.

  She looked…good. A little bit of the glow was gone. A few more lines. She was starting to look closer to her age. But not by much. She wore a yellow sundress and chose to complement it with a clutch purse instead of her shield. Probably in the back seat.

  “You’re looking fine today, Ms. Moller, if I may say so.”

  “You may,” she said. He hated how stilted they were. It felt as if they were starting from scratch. He supposed in some ways they were.

  “How are the Watchers?”

  “Hurting. There’s a lot of rebuilding.” It was obvious from her tone she didn’t just mean the Watchtower. “Can I come up and talk?”

  He helped her up the steps. Or more like they helped each other. Neither of them was in prime walking condition.

  “You look pretty good yourself,” Siv said touching his face. It felt nice. Not the spark they had once shared, but there was something in her warmth. “I’m actually here on official business, Chris…Mr. Holtz.”

  “Chris, please.” She seemed to soften at that.

  “Chris. The Watchers realize they played a part in this as well. We need to expose the evil within as much as from outside. But the general feeling from the public is of corruption, or at least the willingness to look the other way. We need a few outsiders to help us.”

  Christoph arched a brow. “Including a former villain?”

  “No one better. Can you think of anyone else who would want to put a superhero in jail more?”

  “No,” he said smiling. “I can’t.”

  “Rob’s going to head it up, too.”

  “Robert,” Christoph sighed.

  “Aw, I thought you two were getting along.”

  “We were. Until I told him I was incapable of golfing because of my leg. He told me he understood and was more than willing to accept a round of mini-golf in lieu of the real thing. And I still had to wear the outfit.”