“She’s dying. The coma prolongs her life, but she’ll only live two more months at most.”
“Can’t we put her mind into a new body?”
“Who would submit to having their minds erased to be a host for hers?”
“What if we make a new body with no mind?” asked Gale Force. “You know, like a clone.”
“We don’t have the technology or expertise to make new bodies from a bank of cells in under a month. The last person who did was Doctor Hellgrun, and all of his equipment disappeared when the Scientific Six took over this island.”
“Could we put her brain in a robot?” asked Gale Force
“Her organs are permeated by a contagious extraterrestrial mutagenic virus. It’s a moot point because her brain is beginning to deteriorate and we don’t know any psychics powerful enough to make a full memory transfer.”
“Is Trista powerful enough to do that?” asked Alex.
“Copying all of someone’s memories and behaviors is more demanding than anything she’s ever tried. One mistake or badly transferred memory and we could end up with a very different person.”
“How about Mecha-Menta? Can your big fake-brain help?”
“The best that machine can do is imprint the brainwave patterns that form the foundation of a personality. I recorded Mindy’s patterns before she died and imprinted them into Magna, but Magna has none of Mindy’s memories and only binary algorithms for emotions and decision-making criteria. If we did the same to Charlene, it still wouldn’t be her.”
“Charlene is one of the best superheroes ever. She wouldn’t give up hope if there was a chance to save one of us.”
“Even if we could save her, we can’t save her superpowers. Her indestructability and strength came from the Skreak virus we thought was benign. In a new body, she’d be a normal person.”
“I’d rather that than let her die. We’ll talk about it at the meeting.”
Harry and Gale Force followed Magna to a building at the end of the runway.
On the way to the cabins, Alex passed a goat with two circular scars in its side. “Hi, Billy Two.”
Billy Two bleated and ran away.
“Guess you’re still mad I shot you.” Alex knocked on Trista’s door. It opened before he lowered his hand.
Trista embraced him immediately.
“Easy,” said Alex, “my ribs aren’t fully healed.”
“Come here.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him to a laptop on her bed. “Vinnie, this is him.”
On the screen Alex saw, via Skype, a young man with the same coloring as Trista. “So you’re Agent O’Farrell,” he said, “the guy who called me a month ago. Thanks for getting my baby sister off probation.”
“Your testimony about her character helped,” said Alex.
“She really likes you. Take advantage of that and I’ll bust your head.”
Trista blushed. “Vinnie!”
“My wife would bust it first,” said Alex.
Trista lowered the laptop screen. “What’s with the suit? I’m so used to seeing you in sweatpants.”
“I’m going to act more like an agent, which means dressing the part. And you look a lot better without that nullifier helmet.”
“Whatever. I’m just happy to see you again.”
“It’s only been two weeks since you came to this island, and we talked on the phone every day since. Emily wants you to stop calling so much. She’s getting jealous.”
“I’m sorry. I have a lot of issues to talk through.”
“You still meet with the therapist, right?”
Trista nodded. “Through Skype. She’s the only other person I can talk to about being pregnant. I don’t know what to tell everyone else when I start to show. I don’t want to say who the father is.”
“At least the MAB kept the victims’ name secret when Sergeant Hammer’s scandal went public.”
“I’m not over it. I have trouble sleeping. Sergeant Hammer can’t come for me anymore, but every sound in the dark reminds me of him unless I know it’s Kayleigh. I can’t take pills for the anxiety because I don’t want to hurt the baby.”
“Are you still in touch with Chaplain Monaghan?”
“He comes out for Sunday mass.”
“Any trouble with Steve or Pete?”
“Those two are great. The only problem is they’re together so much I don’t know what either of them is like alone.”
Alex looked at a drawing table full of sketches. “Kayleigh said you two were working on new costumes.”
“I’m sketching something more modest than that fishnet catsuit the Idea Man made me wear. Hers is already done. She dyed that MAB agent suit you gave her red and added a belt and boots.”
“Yours sure has a lot of loose scarves. That should conceal your belly a little longer.”
Trista sighed. “I just don’t want people to know what Sergeant Hammer did to me.”
“Then don’t tell anyone. You clam up so well I consider it a superpower.”
“It’s just, I know I didn’t do anything wrong, but I don’t think my family can handle what happened. If Vinnie finds out, he’ll tear the Sergeant Hammer tattoo off his arm.”
“Like I said, or thought, back at the hospital, I’m here for you no matter what happens. But right now, I have to go to the New York Guardians’ meeting.”
“What’s on the agenda?”
“Sad and boring stuff. Griffin Industries is in horrible shape. The stock’s value is plummeting because of the loss in sales of New York Guardians’ merchandise from Sergeant Hammer’s scandal and the Iron Pirates trashing the research lab.”
“Will there be anything about the Prospects?”
“We’ll lose our training budget, so I’ll suggest more missions. My idea is that we use our team to tackle small problems before they become big ones. That way, everyone can develop their skills and either become heroes or wash out with minimal risk.”
“Do you have a problem in mind?”
Alex flipped through the tablet. “After a couple of days of group training in basics like first aid, metahuman law, and group tactics, here’s where we’re going to start.”
Trista looked at the tablet. “Is that Pig-Girl? She’s all over the local news.”
“This picture was taken last night. I did a little more digging and found there were lots of similar incidents reported in a ten-mile radius of the Arby’s where that picture was taken.”
“What sort of incidents?”
“A boy with bug wings knocking over garbage cans, a big dog walking on two legs, stuff like that. But this security camera picture caught my attention.”
Alex showed Trista the tablet again. “It’s an old man in a hoodie.”
“Look at the spots on his forehead.”
“Are those tumors?”
“I think they’re closed eyes.” Alex slid to the next screen. “This is Quad-Clops. He disappeared after a prison break five years ago.”
“I can’t see the mouth through the beard, but it’s definitely the same nose.”
“We have a known supervillain surrounded by monster sightings in a hidden location. That can’t be good.”
“So you want us to go after him?”
“Let’s gather information first. I want you and your teammates to interview witnesses and inspect possible hideouts.”
“Sure. It’s weird to think I’m the only original member of the Prospects. I was the runt of that team.”
“One more thing. I’m going to be busy going through Griffin Industries’ records for a while. I need someone to take charge of this mission.”
“Someone like Jenny?”
“Jenny’s busy learning how to fly. But I don’t think Kayleigh, Steve, and Pete would mind taking orders from you.”
“Me?”
Chapter Three: In the Sticks
Deon looked at the GPS app on his smartphone. It wasn’t like Agent O’Farrell to be late. It also wasn’t like Agent O’Farrell to send him to an abandoned
gas station with a large parking lot in a small town in New Jersey to wait for a helicopter. He took a train and two busses and walked a mile to get here.
The vast space around the empty parking lot made Deon uncomfortable. All of his life he walked between tall buildings and through crowded streets. Out here, it was too quiet, too clean, too open. For all of his complaints about the city, it was his home. He couldn’t imagine how people could live out here.
The air got cold. Gale Force circled overhead and descended. Deon put his goggles on as she spun lower and lower. Each pass scattered more dirt and dust until she landed.
“Jenny,” said Deon.
Gale Force raised a finger. She spoke into her helmet before taking it off and shaking her hair loose.
“I haven’t seen you since your twenty-first birthday party,” said Deon. “How’s my panda bear?”
“I hate being called that. It’s racist, and I know I’m not a size two.”
“Calm down. What’s going on?”
“Ask the team leader when she gets here. I’m only assisting with air reconnaissance so I can log more flight time.”
“What is it with you? Aren’t we pals?”
“No, we aren’t.”
“We had a thing going back when we were Prospects.”
“You killed that by high-fiving Vijay every time he insulted me.”
“I can’t believe he turned out to be a villain.”
“In retrospect, it’s obvious. He had no reason not to be a jerk.”
“Yeah, he sure was. By the way, how’s Candilyn?”
“I don’t care. She’s not my friend anymore either.”
“Sheesh. You got on the big team, and you got a big attitude.”
Gale Force pointed to the sky. “See the helicopter? Keep quiet until it lands.”
The helicopter landed in the lot. Deon stepped back as Trista, Knockout Rose, and Pete came out. Knockout Rose wore cropped top with a rose emblem over a red MAB smartfabric suit and stun gloves dangling from her belt. Pinwheel wore his old gaudy metallic rainbow suit, although a black jacket helped to mute the gaudy effect. Pete, having forsaken the Rock Jock name but still easily recognizable with his stone skin, wore jeans and a T-shirt.
After the helicopter took off again Deon asked, “Where’s Agent O’Farrell?”
“He’s not coming,” said Trista. “I’m in charge.”
Deon laughed. “No, really, where is he?”
Trista drew a phone from her jacket’s pocket and pressed a button. “Agent O’Farrell, he’s already giving me a hard time.” She handed the phone to Deon.
Alex said, “Deon, it’s this simple. You’re a New York Guardians’ reservist. We call you when we need help. Do what Trista says.”
“For real? You know she’s not wearing her nullifier-thingy, right?”
“She’s off probation.”
“You’re letting a villainess call the shots?”
“A former villainess. I’m also helping Stormhead trim the budget. We could use the money we set aside for your scholarship.”
“Come on, man. I just filled out my application to CCNY’s pre-med program.”
“If you won’t help us, we won’t help you. Be nice to Trista.” Alex hung up.
Deon handed the phone back. “Y’all cool with a former Ultra-Genius leading you? She and the Idea Man tried to enslave everyone. Twice.”
“The Idea Man is dead,” said Pete. “It’s all in the past.”
“Back when I was a Prospect, no one liked little miss Mind Dame.”
“She’s real sweet,” said Pinwheel, “so that says more about you than it does about her.”
Gale Force high-fived Steve. “Apply ice directly to burn.”
“Ah, no way,” said Deon. “That was not worth a high-five, especially when it came from a guy in rainbow tights.”
Knockout Rose said, “At least he never ran away and peed himself.”
“Who told you about that?”
“Enough,” said Trista. “Deon, do you have your Goldstreak costume?”
Deon shook his head. “See this shirt, these shorts, and the first-aid kit in a backpack? That’s my costume. I’m done with the superhero thing until I’m done with med school. “
“As long as you have shoes.” Trista showed Deon a map on her smartphone. “I pinpointed some unpopulated areas near the sightings. Abandoned factories, old farms, campsites, things like that. Gale Force will scout them by air, and if she sees any signs of life she’ll tell you which ones to visit.”
“You want me to trespass on private property?”
“Just get a street-level view. You can run a hundred miles per hour, so you can pass by before anyone notices.”
“Wait a minute,” said Deon. “A hundred is my top speed, but I can’t run that all day.”
“How long can you run that speed for?”
“About two minutes.”
“I thought speedsters could run all day.”
“The guys with high top speeds can. Mine’s not real high.”
“How long and how fast can you run?”
“I can go twenty-five for an hour or two, but don’t make me run if you don’t have to.” Deon pointed to Knockout Rose, Pinwheel, and Pete. “What are they doing?”
“We’re going to interview some witnesses and search the scenes of sightings for clues. I figured people would be more likely to talk to superheroes with a good reputation. I don’t have a good reputation, so I didn’t bother with my costume.” Trista tapped her smartphone. “Use the partyline app to stay in touch. It’s synced to Gale Force’s helmet radio so we’ll have three-way communication.”
After Gale Force flew away and Deon ran after her shadow, Knockout Rose asked, “How are we getting around?”
“We’ll hail a cab,” said Trista.
“You’re kidding, right?” said Pinwheel. “We’re in the sticks. There are no taxis.”
“I can’t ride in a normal car,” said Pete. “Not without tearing up the upholstery and breaking an axle.”
Knockout Rose turned on the tablet. “The Arby’s where Pig-Girl was seen is three miles away. The other sites are even further out. We can’t walk to all of them, and the helicopter pilot isn’t paid to leave this spot.”
Trista facepalmed herself. “Two minutes into my first mission and I already screwed up.” She pressed a button on her phone. “Agent O’Farrell, I need help.”
Four hours later, Gale Force said into her helmet’s radio, “Don’t bother coming here, Deon. There’s nothing but graffiti in this abandoned factory. The next stop is an old farm.”
Trista said, “The tax records say the owner is Noah Won.”
“Did you say ‘no one?’” asked Gale Force.
“Sure sounds like it,” said Trista.
“You know, I hated the country at first,” said Deon, “but I’m starting to like the fresh air. Maybe I’ll move out here.”
“Trust me, no one wants to live in New Jersey,” said Gale Force.
Trista said, “Our rented truck arrived. I can’t believe I didn’t think of transportation. I'm so embarrassed.”
Gale Force said, “Go ahead, Deon. Say something snarky.”
“I ain’t saying nothing,” said Deon. “We native New Yorkers forget that things are different in the rest of the world.”
Trista said, “You wouldn’t have been that understanding in the old days.”
“Yeah, well, those were rough times. Life in the basement of Griffin Tower sucked. We were cooped up, sleep-deprived, and fed crappy food.”
“And abused by Sarge,” said Gale Force.
“I can’t believe America’s hero turned out to be a goddamn sexual predator,” said Deon. “Candilyn was right about him. He didn’t do anything to you girls, did he?”
“That’s none of your …” Gale Force paused. “Hold on, I see smoke.”
Gale Force adjusted the air currents to drop closer to the tree line. When she cleared the branches, a burst of
heat from the fire sent her up higher.
“It’s a battle! There are …” Gale Force coughed as she passed through the cloud of smoke over the burning windmill. Below her a man in a metal suit lashed metallic whips at a boy with lizard-like legs. Through the whoosh of air currents around her she heard shouts.
Deon checked his GPS tracker. “I’ll be there in …”
“A man in camouflage shot a boy,” said Gale Force. “Wait, is that a boy or a big dragonfly?”
“Don’t engage them,” said Trista. “We don’t know what’s going on. Get out of …”
Something slashed across Gale Force’s back. Her smartfabric bodysuit instantly hardened but the sting in her flesh told her it didn’t stop everything.
Gale Force let the currents beneath her dissipate to lose altitude quickly. Above her was a creature with the body of a stringy human-sized bird and the head of an ugly bald woman.
“I’m under attack!” Gale Force couldn’t pull up before she hit the trees.
Trista said, “Pinwheel, hit the gas.”
“Which way?”
Knockout Rose flipped through the map on the tablet’s screen. “They’re east of here. I don’t see any turns coming up.”
“Time to go back to my redneck roots.” Pinwheel yelled through the back window, “Pete, hang on.”
Pete clutched the side of the truck bed as the truck went off-road and through a cornfield.
Trista pulled out her phone. “Agent O’Farrell, I need help again.”
Deon left a line of dust as he ran down an unpaved road. He slowed down to check his smartphone’s GPS. Gale Force’s signal was on the other side of a thick forest, but something tumbled from the forest right in front of him.
His heels dug ruts into the ground as he came to a quick stop. At first he thought it was a fox or a large rooster. He wiped dirt from his goggles and realized it was a boy with arched lizard-like legs who fell in front of him.
“What the hell?” Deon slid his backpack off. “You’re bleeding.”
Joey rolled onto his back and put his arms at his side. “Get it over with.”
Within seconds Deon had the puncture wounds on both sides of Joey’s stomach bandaged and staunched with QuikClot gauze.
The Prospects (Book 2): Nothing Poorer Than Gods Page 3
