How to Defeat a Hero

by J Bennett

  He sounds regretful but is it all an act? I hate this. I can’t tell truth from fiction and I’m not even sure if they’re that much different at this point.

  “I’ll deliver your message to my boss,” I tell Adan through gritted teach.

  “When will your hostage vid go out?” Adan leans forward in his chair.

  “Tonight.”

  “I want an answer by midnight,” he says. “We can arrange a hostage exchange, but I’d prefer a dramatic confrontation with The Professor and a rescue. I’m willing to allow The Professor to escape as long as I come away with Ash Anders.”

  “How kind of you,” I murmur knowing immediately that his plan is a no-go. Ash Anders will not tolerate being rescued. The Professor promised him a dramatic escape. Gold and Mermaid are already planning how to make that happen.

  “Talk it over with your boss and we can arrange the specifics once he agrees,” Adan says.

  I stare at the zippers on his shirt trying to think my way out of this.

  “And what if he says no?” I ask. “What will happen to Leo?”

  Adan studies my face. What does he see there? Whatever it is makes him square his jaw. “If The Professor says no, then perhaps you and I can make an arrangement of our own. All I need is a location and I can do the rest.”

  “You want me to betray my boss? Lose my job?”

  “There could be a better one waiting for you.”

  This convo just became far more dangerous than it already was.

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  Adan gives me a sly look and his voice drops to a soft whisper. “Lysee’s got good lens presence but otherwise she’s worthless. No skills. No brains. Just every self-help catchphrase that’s ever existed.”

  His green eyes appraise me, unabashed.

  I laugh. Nothing about him surprises me anymore. “You’d swipe Lysee just like that?” I ask. “After she saved you and your career?”

  Adan shrugs. If he recognizes my distaste it doesn’t bother him. “I had to take her on. She was my only way out, but anything can happen at the beginning of a new series. Characters come and go. I’ll certainly give her great lens time in my first ep and during our inevitable breakup.”

  “How gallant you are, Mr. Hero,” I spit out.

  “I can’t be a hero if my sidekick holds me back.” Adan’s brow furrows and I realize he looks tired. This close, I can see he’s wearing some kind of powder on his face, but the dark pockets under his eyes still faintly show through.

  “You wouldn’t hurt Leo,” I say, trying to sound sure.

  Adan stands up. He’s only half a head taller than me but his body is big and muscled. He is a presence. “I don’t have to hurt him,” he says. “If Leo doesn’t deliver your next ep on time, PAGS will fire him. Again.”

  “Again?”

  Adan smiles. “It’s good to have connections in the City Council. Sometimes a personnel file accidentally gets forwarded to the wrong Stream.”

  I look down at the table. I don’t know what to say. It feels like Adan is ten moves ahead, carefully maneuvering me toward a cliff. I keep my expression neutral and raise my eyes until I meet Adan’s gaze. I give him a little smile that I hope is enigmatic, offering hope without a promise while the fires of fury rage inside me.

  “You’ll have your answer tonight,” I tell him sweetly.

  “Excellent,” Adan says. “It’s always lovely doing business with you, Alice. Think about my offer.”

  “I’m not sure I’m ready to switch sides.”

  Adan laughs at that. “Here’s a little secret.” He leans toward me, so close I can smell his expensive aftershave. “The capes, the vils, the sidekicks and henchmen—we’re all on the same side. The side of ourselves.”

  Our eyes lock. His face moves closer to mine.

  My Band buzzes and a blindingly bright holo-screen jumps up between us. Adan steps back.

  Bob’s face fills the holo-screen. For once my Totem looks serious. What now?

  “The Supreme Court released its decision in the Castillo v PAGS case,” Bob says.

  “What was the decision?” Adan asks sharply. The case is just as important to him as it is to me. Why does he seem so nervous? There’s only one way the court could have decided.

  “The court overturned the appeal and sided with PAGS,” Bob says.

  Adan curses, and I… do nothing. My mind is still.

  Empty.

  I don’t understand.

  “Are you sure?” I whisper to Bob.

  “Sorry, darling,” my Totem says.

  Gradually it begins to sink in. Rusted hooks sliding down my soul. This means PAGS can’t be held liable for injuries, even deaths that occur on its semi-reality shows even if their producers knowingly created or condoned excessively dangerous situations. As long as contestants sign the waivers, PAGS can do anything

  And they will.

  “There’s a lot of analysis about the decision coming out,” Bob says. “Want me to start putting a file together?”

  “No,” I croak. Everything that happened to me and Alby, that endless trek in the desert, the heatstroke, his broken brain, all of it was for nothing. PAGS will get to hurt other children. They’ll get to hurt Gold, and Mermaid, and Sequoia.

  A sob hiccups out of my chest.

  Strong arms wrap around me and I rest my face against Adan’s warm skin. The zippers on his shirt dig into my cheek but I don’t care. I lean into his warmth, into his solid, reassuring body.

  “What does it mean?” I gasp as the first hot tears burn down my cheeks.

  Adan is quiet for a moment and then he says. “It means everything just got a lot more dangerous.”

  Chapter 21

  Spirits are high, the stars are gorgeous, and we dream of Martian dust beneath our boots. ~ Phoenix Shuttle Commander Thane-Ambrose Garcia, Live Q&A on NASA Stream

  ~

  I hardly remember rushing through my social stratification midterm. All the questions and answers bounce through my brain like errant ping pong balls. I am gutted. The Castillo v PAGS decision has scooped out all the dwindling hope I had left in humanity.

  The day is gorg as I slowly walk back to Sequoia’s house. The weather Streams predict rain tomorrow and warn of a dry, dusty summer, but today the sun shines low on the horizon in a cloudless sky. A few birds trill in the distance. It’s all so jarring, the beauty around me, the sunlight shining even as darkness gathers in my heart.

  I pass Palinksy’s, my old gym. Through the plate-glass windows, beautiful people pantomime kicks and punches, each of them no doubt dreaming of lens time, sponsors, and the fickle love of a faceless crowd. Even with this Supreme Court decision, they’ll still strive. Hell, they may appreciate a looser leash. For the past two decades, it was always understood that vils and capes never tried to actually maim each other. We all use stun weapons and keep swords blunted. When a sidekick or cape is defeated, they’re typically tied up and imprisoned in the villain’s lair. Never killed. Even torture usually involves only moderate shocks and body punches.

  The only deaths in town are contractual ones. A cape may “die” on screen if their show gets swiped, and there are plenty of sidekick and henchmen “deaths” to keep storylines humming. In those cases, the deceased character usually slinks out of town, ready to try their luck in a new media sector.

  Injuries are unavoidable, of course, like when Beacon’s boot thrusters malfunctioned and she fell off the roof during her huge tangle with Evil Santa last year, but bumps and bruises can heal. This decision means PAGS can unleash vils and capes to seek blood without the threat of lawsuits or even criminal liability.

  And they will. If I’ve learned anything from my three years in Biggie LC, it’s that PAGS will always push a little bit farther, a little bit harder… until someone tumbles off a cliff instead of a roof.

  PIC – Pain Is Currency.

  Someone is going to get killed for real. It could be me. Or The Professor. Or Sequoia. My heart n
early explodes in fury and horror at the thought of my gentle, loyal friend lying on the pavement in a puddle of blood because some antsy sidekick wanted to bump their ratings.

  Suddenly, I hate all those beautiful people in Palinksy’s. How many of them would be willing to kill to claim their own show? I don’t want to know the answer.

  I walk, and walk, and walk until I find myself in Iconic Square. Around me, half-filled tourist trolleys roll down the streets, their conductors gushing about whatever big fight took place on this or that corner. A few tourists take selfie holograms in front of The Hero statue, but the sidewalks are oddly quiet and mostly empty. I only see two gorg townies jogging down the street, probs hoping to get mugged and rescued by a hero.

  The town seems half alive, or half dead, depending on how you look at it, and I know the reason why. Shadow. He’s scaring away the touries. Even most of the townies don’t want to linger outside too long.

  Is this the future of Big Little City? Are we destined to become a ghost town, haunted by Shadow or whatever murderous vils follow him?

  I make it back to Sequoia’s house just as the sun is setting on the horizon. I find my lab coat folded neatly on the couch, my bowtie and goggles placed on top. I pull the coat on over my clothes and add the accessories, even though I don’t see any cam drones buzzing about. Technically, I have another hour until my official henchman shift starts, but with everything going on, I’m not sure the old schedule applies.

  I don’t know what to do with myself. If I were at home, I’d probs collapse in bed and try to shut off my angry brain by watching the progress of the Phoenix settlement ship or maybe a recording of the live Q&As the shuttle commander, Thane-Ambrose Garcia hosts every week. Instead, I send a short, pointless message to Alby—Hope the sun is shining where you are. Love Twinly Two—while I wander through the quiet house. The office door is closed. I try the master bedroom. Inside, the Mayor of Chicago lounges on the bed, listening intently to a meeting on his Band. I notice the seashell in his hand, his thumb absently stroking its ridged edges. His brown eyes flick up to meet mine and he shoos me out of the room.

  I consider informing him that he’s the hostage, but now he’s barking at someone about road closures for some upcoming event and I slink out of the room. Maybe I’ll just crash on the couch for a while and hope no one notices me.

  “Coffee?” a voice asks from the doorway of the kitchen. “You look like you could use it.”

  Mermaid stands at the counter, a mug in hand. I breathe in the warm, delicious scent of coffee grounds. Coffee is a habit I’ve never been able to afford, but now I gratefully nod, and she pours another cup from some gizmo on Sequoia’s countertop.

  Mermaid looks at gorg as ever. Her blonde-and-blue hair is piled on her head in attractive ringlets, and she wears a shiny white sports dress beneath her unbuttoned blue lab coat. Matching white bands encircle her thighs and calves, and a single silver zipper cuts diagonally across her dress.

  Mermaid hands me the mug and I wrap my hands around the warm ceramic.

  “Where is everyone?” I ask.

  “Nitrogen and Kitty went with The Professor to scout a few lairs.”

  I raise an eyebrow. That’s prime lens opportunity. Even if they aren’t successful, their search is sure to at least generate a montage in our next ep… assuming we have a producer to put it together. I wonder why Mermaid would pass on such a chance to grab lens time.

  “Gold is putting the finishing touches on the hostage vid. Ash and I stuck around to provide input.”

  Ah, now I understand. No doubt, Gold and Mermaid will both feature heavily in the vid, which will be playing across every news and gossip Stream tonight. I also don’t miss the fact that Mermaid called our hostage, Ash. Could she be brewing something other than coffee?

  I find that I hardly care.

  “You look a little gutter,” Mermaid says.

  I consider offering up some lame-o excuse, but I don’t even have the energy for guile. “Midterms were today. I didn’t do well,” I tell her, and then add, as if it weren’t obvious, “I’m trying to get my bachelor’s.”

  Mermaid shrugs. “Schooling doesn’t matter.” She brings the mug to her lips. “There are no job skills the robos won’t eventually learn. The only thing that matters is ability.”

  I laugh into my mug. The sad thing is that I can’t disagree with her. Mermaid has proven her point well enough by dominating all three of The Professor’s tryouts and by taking charge of our little henchman group. During the tryouts, there were plenty of rumors that this wasn’t her first semi-reality appearance. I even heard that she made it to one of the last rounds in a season of Z Town.

  Going the distance in Z Town requires enduring the most primitive living conditions and dishing out loads of betrayal while also fleeing and fighting a growing horde of robo zombies. Last year, a contestant lasted two months by hiding under a pile of leaves and gobbling frogs that hopped her way.

  “You make it seem like life is just a game,” I tell Mermaid.

  She gives me a look as if I am an utter lobotomy. “What else could it be?”

  The incredulity in her voice sparks something inside of me. Out of the pit of darkness, anger rises to the surface. I lean back against the counter, propping my elbows behind me.

  “Gold seems to have fully recovered,” I say.

  Mermaid takes a casual sip of coffee. “Yes.”

  “It was shining luck he only got hit by a stun laz,” I plod on. “When he went down, I was terrified. I thought for sure he was roasted.”

  Mermaid carefully sets her mug in the sink. Sequoia’s house robo will clean it later. Then she turns to me. I wish I could see her eyes beneath her cloudy blue goggles. “We all knew the risks going in,” she says carefully.

  “It’s a shame you were out of position,” I say. “I’m sure you would have been able to stun that security guard before he could tag Gold.”

  Mermaid doesn’t turn away. “It was a chaotic situation. Easy to get turned around. I made a mistake.”

  We both know that Mermaid doesn’t make mistakes.

  “What were you doing by the exit?” I ask. Was she trying to make a run for it, leaving the rest of us to take the fall? No, I don’t think so. We had the situation in hand. Mermaid wouldn’t tail it, at least not empty-handed.

  “I keep thinking back,” I muse to myself. “It all happened so fast, and there was so much going on, but I could have sworn Ash Anders and his team were heading for that same door.”

  Mermaid was going for him. I’m sure of it. Did she merely want to take him down to gain the glory for our next ep, or was she planning to nab him for herself? Stealing the Mayor of Chicago right under The Professor’s nose may have been enough to spin off into her own villain show. Then there’s the possibility she might have meant to warn Ash Anders, maybe even turn coat and fight against us. Such a heroic act could have given her a platform to spin off as a hero.

  “I told you, I got confused. I made a mistake.” Mermaid’s voice is calm.

  Whatever she was planning didn’t come to fruition. I still remember how she’d stood, frozen and uncertain, staring at Gold’s unmoving body on the stage. She’d thought he was dead, too. And in that hesitation, Ash Anders’s remaining security guard changed the route and pushed him toward the basement exit where I would stumble upon them mins later.

  “Fortunately, it was only a stun laser,” Mermaid says, “and we got Ash Anders. As soon as we release the hostage vid, our ratings will gush. We’re all in a brills position.”

  I stare at her and realize I’ll never know what her true intentions were that night. With our ratings set to rocket, she’s on our side… at least for now.

  Mermaid tilts her head just a little, and hint of a smile tugs at her lips. “Alice, I like you,” she says. “If you weren’t a threat to my popularity on this show, I think maybe we could be friends.”

  I almost choke on my coffee. “You want to be friends, with me?”
<
br />   “No. That’s the point. I can’t have friends. Friends are a liability.”

  “That’s a sad way to live,” I tell her.

  “It’s also a successful way to live. My mother taught me that when we moved to S3.”

  Media Sector Three. That’s in the northwest of the country where PAGS films all of its children-focused programming, including an endless array of child competitions.

  “Your mom was a lens pusher?” I ask. She wouldn’t be the first parent to drag her kids all the way to S3 to try to gain fame for her progeny.

  “She was a realist,” Mermaid corrects. “That’s how I got my education.” She takes a step closer to me. She’s a head taller, forcing me to look up. “Life is a game whether you accept it or not,” she says softly. “The game is played in front of the lens and behind it. If you aren’t playing, that just means you’re losing.”

  I stare at her. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because you’ve got potential, and I want you to know that there are no hard feelings. What I may have been planning, what I may be planning, and what I may do in the future is just the game. It’s not personal.”

  Her words disgust me, but I also feel resigned. Mermaid is a creature of the lens. At least she’s honest about it. I wonder what it must have been like for her as a small child, trying to break through in Media Sector 3. I imagine a life filled with endless practice sessions. Every week a new, nerve-wracking audition, and her mother hissing criticism in her ear after each one.

  Mermaid turns and crosses toward the door.

  “Do you resent your mom for putting you through all that?” I ask.

  Mermaid pauses. “Of course not. My mother made me strong.”

  “What about the Castillo v PAGS decision today? Aren’t you nervous?”

  Now she smiles in a soft, sad way. “At least now we all see the playing field clearly.”

  “DONE!” Gold roars. A door down the hallway bursts open, and he saunters out, his golden lips peeled back in a proud smile. “DONE, DONE, DONE!” He shakes his hips and does a sleek little dance in the doorway of the kitchen. “I have created a hostage vid so brills the sun is gonna need shades.”