by Logan Jacobs
At least, lower level ones for now.
Once I gained more skills and experience, I could start aiming higher. Whereas the supposed professionals, the legitimate superheroes, had an irritating habit of just capturing and imprisoning supervillains only for them to escape and resume their deadly crime sprees later, I had decided that the best way to deal with evil psychopaths was to murder them. It was a final poetic justice that meant those assholes couldn’t kill again.
Dynamo had previously been employed by The Wardens, the dominant superhero organization in Pinnacle City, and part of her still believed in playing along with their naïve, idealistic, and downright ineffective rules. But I also knew that after getting a taste of supervillain blood, part of her, just like with my timid little human assistant, had liked it.
“Where is Elizabeth now?” I asked Aileen. “Is she in the mansion or did she--”
“She is on patrol,” Aileen interrupted. “She mentioned that over breakfast.”
“Ahh,” I said as I remembered. “I was a bit preoccupied with what I wanted to fix in your programming today. Can you find her location in the CDS or by tracking her suit?”
My AI assistant was linked into the Criminal Diagnostic System I had created, which utilized all the public surveillance cameras in Pinnacle City to create a nearly comprehensive map of its citizens’ doings and whereabouts, with a focus on identifying the sites of criminal activity.
“Dynamo is in the Tuppenheim neighborhood,” Aileen replied after a few moments. “Ah, she appears to have just found a fake police vehicle…”
“What did she do with it?” I asked.
“Forcibly ejected the occupant and downsized the vehicle,” Aileen answered.
“…Downsized?” I asked.
“Yes,” Aileen said. “Rendered more compact.”
“Ah,” I said. “Compacted. As in what a trash compactor would do. With her bare hands?”
“Well, the suit you built for her helped,” Aileen stated. “She would not have been able to perform such a task otherwise.”
Dynamo’s primary power was super strength, paired with accelerated healing. She was also exceptionally fast, although that ability was somewhere on the fine line between that of a non-super Olympic athlete and a very weak superpower. Her final and least obvious superpower was the ability to detect whether or not someone was telling the truth. In many ways, that may have been her most useful ability for me.
“Well, text her from my phone… hmm, let’s see… ‘Supervillain situation has arisen. Plane departs in two hours.’” I requested.
“Of course,” my AI replied, and I heard a zip sound as the phone in my pocket sent its message.
“She has replied,” Aileen said ten seconds later. “She says: ‘On my way,’ but at the time that text was sent, state patrol footage indicates that she was already speeding down the highway. Texting while driving increases the statistical probability of a vehicular collision by--”
“Ah, no, the car sent that for her,” I said. “It reads her messages aloud, and it transcribes her vocal commands to send messages back.”
Aileen didn’t know that because she had never ridden in Dynamo’s car, although I had. Once Dynamo had been embarrassed to receive an extremely affectionate text from her mother within my earshot and yelled at her car, “Shut up, Nigel!” which was how I learnt that her car’s name was Nigel.
Nigel was flashy, red, extremely good-looking, and fairly intelligent for a car, although an absolute Neanderthal compared to Aileen. Personally, I favored unassuming custom cars that, from the exterior, would be fit for a busy soccer mom but actually had quasi-military capabilities and could obliterate the competition at any drag race, either figuratively or literally. Not cars like Nigel that screamed “superhero.” Not to mention that Dynamo’s former employers, The Wardens, with whom she hadn’t exactly parted on the friendliest of terms, could easily recognize that car anywhere she went. I could get Dynamo any other car she wanted, but she was rather attached to Nigel, so I hadn’t managed to convince her to retire him yet.
“Aileen, initiate the lockdown protocols for an extended period of absence from the house,” I instructed my AI assistant.
“Extended?” she inquired.
“We don’t know who this guy is that stole the nanobots, but from the fact that he knew to specifically target that car, plus the flashy tear gas and the cackling, it sounds like some kind of supervillain,” I said. “If I’m wrong, and it’s just some petty criminal that Dynamo will be able to… compact this very afternoon? Great. We’ll have ourselves a little mini vacation in Grayville. And if I’m right? Well, it’ll be a working vacation.”
“I’ve always been curious about Grayville,” Norma said with a dreamy look in her eyes. “It’s a real city.”
“What do you mean?” I asked. “How is Pinnacle City not a real city?”
“Pinnacle City is like living in a bubble,” she replied. “All the dazzling lights and high-speed living. All the politicians and entertainment biz types. Grayville is more, you know, smog and factories and that cool ancient gothic architecture. Real people with real jobs work there.”
“There are real people everywhere,” I said. “Being glamorous or powerful doesn’t make you any less of a real person, Norma. It just makes your life more complicated.”
“I guess I wouldn’t know,” my assistant sighed.
“What are you talking about?” I asked her. “Have you already forgotten how--”
“I’m not glamorous or powerful myself,” Norma said. “I’m just associated with people who are. You and Dynamo.”
“I never would’ve hired you if I didn’t know you were something special,” I said. “And you trust my judgment, right?”
“Well, yes, but--”
“No buts,” I said.
Soon after that, the house scanned in Dynamo’s iris and admitted her to the parking garage. A few minutes later, the fourth and final member of my team rode the elevator down to The Cellar where I was waiting with Aileen and strode into view.
“What’s going on?” she demanded.
I’d known Elizabeth Avenati, AKA: Dynamo, for over a month. We had been lovers every night for the last two weeks, and she practically lived at my mansion, but she still took my breath away every time I saw her.
She had fair skin just a few shades creamier than fresh milk and a naturally jet black mane of curls that cascaded down her shoulders. It was a combination that would have been striking enough in itself, but then there were the woman’s eyes. They were long lashed, almond-shaped, and a casual observer might have assumed they were simply blue, but if you looked closely they were practically turquoise, like tropical waters. She had a cute, pointed nose and plush, pillowy lips. Her body was like a more muscular version of Aileen’s, with explosive strength packed into every inch but without sacrificing its feminine curves or litheness.
Her amazing body was currently wrapped in the custom charcoal colored supersuit that I had designed for her, which accommodated almost as many built-in gadgets and controls as a small airplane while still managing to be sleek, aerodynamic, and exquisitely form-fitting. The suit consisted of a pair of thigh length high-heeled boots and a single bodysuit that rode high on her hips. It meant that her thighs, ass, and a bit of her cleavage were exposed, but she hadn’t complained about the lack of armor in those spots yet. Probably because it was cut in the same fashion as her previous lipstick red Warden uniform was.
“Someone stole my nanobots,” I replied.
“Your nanobots?” Dynamo asked as she scrunched her pert nose. I talked about a lot of my business dealings with her, including the medical technology stuff, and she tried to be a polite listener, but I got the feeling that the only one of my ventures that really interested her was my newest and so far least profitable one: Fighting supervillains.
“Yeah… you know, the tiny robots that are supposed to travel inside patients’ bodies in lieu of performing surgery in some cases, t
hey can deliver medicine or medical implants or organ transplants, or they can be programmed to extract tumors or other unwanted objects,” I said. “And these are biodegradable so they disintegrate after they do their job, they don’t have to worry about removal or anything. Useful stuff.”
“Oh right, didn’t the Asklepios Network plan to incorporate them into cancer treatments?” Dynamo asked.
“You impress me, Elizabeth.” I said. “I honestly didn’t think you were paying attention, and yet you remembered about Asklepios.”
“Or you’ve just underestimated me,” she said as she raised an eyebrow at me. “I may not hang on your every word, but I do kind of like you, Miles. You know, since we are sleeping together and all.”
“It is less ‘underestimating’ and more bewilderment as to how you can be so perfect,” I replied.
“Oh, damn,” Norma groaned. “That was smooth.”
“Oh, hi Norma. I didn’t notice you there. And yes, your boss is smooth.” My girlfriend’s words could have come across as catty, but Elizabeth and Norma seemed to get along quite well, and the fact was that Norma’s power often meant that she was often overlooked.
“We all know I’m amazing,” I scoffed. “Now back to the nanobots.”
“How could someone steal something like that?” Elizabeth asked “Patients could die.”
“Uhh, supervillains?” I snickered.
“Well, yeah,” she sighed, “but still--”
“They don’t give a fuck about innocents,” I interrupted. “That’s why I am indiscriminately killing them. Also, this jackass didn’t pay me for them, so it’s a minor personal insult on top of the annoyance of injustice. We’re going to teach him a lesson that if he wants to get his hands on some Miles Nelson tech, then he needs to fucking place an order just like everyone else.”
“You are right,” Elizabeth said as she shot me a dazzling smile. “They need to be taken care of.”
“What do you think he wants to use them for anyway?” Norma asked.
“I’d have to guess, not to cure cancer,” I said.
“The probability of that is negligible,” Aileen agreed.
“So, are you in?” I asked Dynamo. She’d been mostly living with me and using The Cellar as her base of operations for the past few weeks, but of course I didn’t own her like I owned Aileen, or even employ her full time like I did Norma. She and I still had some ideological differences, and she wasn’t willing to make that commitment yet. For now she had just agreed to be a contractor and accept or decline the missions that I offered to her as she saw fit.
“Yeah,” she said. “Let’s kick this thief’s ass so that those nanobots can get back to work kicking cancer’s ass.”
“Excellent,” I said. “Go pack your bags then, takeoff is in an hour and a half.” I reached out to put my hand on the back of her neck and pulled her in for a kiss first. Then I sent her on her way with a slap on her tight ass. I had only started doing that once I was completely confident she wouldn’t mind, and only when there was no one else present to see it, except Aileen and Norma, who didn’t count.
I was pretty sure that any other guy who tried it would have gotten his face punched inside out, but Dynamo just smirked at me and sashayed out of the room.
An hour and a half later, our baggage was secured, and Dynamo, Norma, Aileen, and I were all strapped into our seats for takeoff. Norma could have flown the plane herself, but there were legal restrictions on that since she had never undergone any kind of flight training whatsoever and had no pilot’s certifications. Aileen could have flown it too, but I wanted her focused on researching the criminal elements in Grayville, processing any new updates on the nanobot shipment situation, and sitting back with us instead of up in the cockpit so that she could discuss those things with us.
“So how long is the flight to Grayville?” Dynamo asked. “I’ve never been there.”
“Only about forty minutes,” Aileen replied. Then she did something she had never done before in front of anyone except for me and parted her cherry red lips and stretched her symmetrical silver face into a broad grin.
My sexy superhero girlfriend, who was always cool as a cucumber in the face of death and destruction, jumped in her seat and emitted a cute but high-pitched yelp. “You smiled!”
“Yes,” Aileen purred as her lips curled away from her teeth. “I am happy.”
“Because we are going to track down a supervillain and put him in the ground, or because we are all going together?” Norma asked.
“Can it not be both?” Aileen asked.
And then she grinned again.
Chapter Two
When we landed in Grayville, we stored Aileen away inside a large piece of luggage so as not to attract a lot of unwanted attention. Then we took a taxi to the house that Norma had rented for us. It turned out to have boarded-up windows and was situated behind barbed wire overlooking a highway about twenty feet away from a homeless encampment.
“Er… Norma?” I asked. She wasn’t much of a practical joker, since she tried too hard to please me all the time, but she did make mistakes sometimes. An average number of mistakes.
“This isn’t the right place!” she exclaimed. “Why did you take us here?”
“You said, Thirty-Two-Hundred Slade Street NE,” the taxi driver said indignantly. “This is the right place!”
“No, I didn’t,” Norma said with relief in her voice. “It’s Thirty-Two-Hundred Slade Avenue NE. Avenue, not Street.”
“Oh, sorry, very sorry,” the taxi driver said. “I take you there now.”
“Norma,” I whispered to her softly so that the driver couldn’t hear. “This is why we get limo or town car drivers, not just average taxis.”
“Sorry, boss,” she whispered with a wince. “I thought you wanted to be incognito.”
“Mehhh,” I groaned. “Okay, you are forgiven.”
As Dynamo examined a map of the city on her phone she remarked, “Damn, half the streets here are named Slade something or other.”
“He is the city’s biggest philanthropist,” the taxi driver agreed proudly. “Dan Slade. He is a genius.”
“Yes,” I sighed. “Dan Slade the billionaire weapons engineer.”
“You know him?” Elizabeth asked.
“Doesn’t everyone?” I asked. “How many billionaire playboys are there in the world?”
“Well, do you ‘know him’ know him?” my girlfriend asked as she raised an eyebrow. “Is there some sort of rich playboy club you all hang out in where you talk about spending all your money?”
“Nope,” I laughed. “I’ve never actually met him.”
I knew of him because he’d competed with me for a couple of contracts, which I’d usually won, except for once when the buyer just wasn’t willing to pay what it took for a quality product, and Slade evidently opted to provide them with a substandard one within budget. Either that, or he must have chosen to take a hefty loss just to secure a prestigious client which smacked of desperation in my opinion. Also, Slade inherited his massive empire from his dead parents. It was unfortunate that they died, but I couldn’t help but feel a bit superior to him because I grew my empire from the ground up.
“Yes, yes,” the taxi driver said enthusiastically. “Weapons engineer, but also a philanthropist, charity giver, and partier. He likes to party with many beautiful women!”
“Hmm, sounds like someone else I know,” Norma snickered.
“Dan Slade is the cheap knockoff version of me. Don’t insult me.”
“Hmm, not much of a jawline to speak of,” Dynamo remarked as she pulled up photos of him on her phone. “Oh, except in this picture, it looks like they Photoshopped one on. Hmm, he’s right about the women though. Looks like Slade was linked to Emma Kingston for a few months last year.”
“Emma Kingston?” Norma asked as she glanced over at me and clearly thought the name sounded familiar. “Hey, isn’t that the model who--”
“Dumped him to date me, yes,”
I said flatly.
“Oh,” Elizabeth asked as she raised a perfect eyebrow.
“It’s over now.” I shrugged. I didn’t need to tell Elizabeth that Emma spent the night in my bed a month ago. Dynamo usually didn’t really ask about the details of my previous sexual history, and I didn’t see any reason to volunteer unnecessary information about how many supermodel orgies I had enjoyed. Elizabeth and I had never made any kind of exclusive commitment to each other, but my womanizing ways had definitely declined to zero since we’d become an item. She was more than capable of satisfying my voracious appetite.
“Well, he isn’t bad looking,” my girlfriend said as she studied his picture, “but I can see why she dumped him for you.”
“Until Dan Slade patents a product that isn’t just a pale imitation of one of mine, I don’t care about his career, let alone his personal life.”
“Here, this is the right place this time,” the taxi driver said coldly as we rolled up the long, leafily tree-lined driveway of a palatial white-columned mansion. He’d clearly been listening in on our commentary on local hero Dan Slade and wasn’t feeling very kindly disposed toward us anymore.
I tipped him anyway because it wasn’t his fault that Grayville didn’t have any residents more illustrious than Dan Slade to brag about. Then we unloaded our luggage and the case holding Aileen. The taxi driver drove off, and I keyed in the security code that Norma had received when she secured the rental.
Aileen’s case let out a hissing sound, and it unfolded around her as she stood like a daffodil uncurling during a spring morning.
“It is acceptable,” my silver android said as she hefted two of the bags onto her shoulders. “Good job, Norma.”
“Thanks, Aileen,” my assistant said as she reached for the rest of the bags, but Dynamo has already lifted them onto her shoulder so that Norma and I didn’t have to carry anything.
