Broke and Famous

by Elizabeth Gannon

  “I want to talk to you about Thraex.” The man told her, leaning forward in his chair so that his spine didn’t have to conform to the shape of the backrest.

  Sasha was long used to her family’s “ultra-modern” mid-century furnishings, and sank into her chair with all the grace her mother had drilled into her. “What about him?”

  “How much do you know about him?” He paused. “Well… I mean, you know a lot about him, obviously…”

  Sasha tried not to blush, feeling slightly embarrassed that he’d just bring up her… relationship with Thraex like that. Without any kind of preamble or apology. Usually, it was a topic that people tip-toed around when in polite society. But being a Cape, he wasn’t quite as artful in his shaming as the citizens of Reichelt Park. “I know all I ever need to know about him.” She told him flatly. “Knowing him ruined my life.”

  The words were barely out of her mouth before she began to feel bad about them. That wasn’t fair to him. At all. It was just something she liked to tell herself, not something she really believed.

  Except when she did. Which she didn’t at the moment.

  She opened her mouth to take back her words and rephrase, but Jaxx didn’t give her the chance.

  He nodded, obviously expecting that answer. “Clearly.” He agreed, either not recognizing how insulting that statement was or not caring. Manners would have said that he needed to at least put up a show of protesting, but he immediately agreed with her. “That’s what I want to talk to you about though; I think I can offer you a chance to escape this nightmare.”

  There was more than a piece of Sasha which was offended now.

  She might be a failure and her family’s building might be stuck in another age, but it was a good age. Their little “Home of Tomorrow” might be ridiculous to modern eyes, but it was the height of science in 1957. And it had come up with ideas which were still ahead of their time. Ideas which would last long after anything Jaxx Brixton would ever do in his life.

  And she might complain about Thraex… but her anger sparked when she heard Jaxx do it. She wasn’t sure why that was. Probably just habit. She’d spent years of her life defending Thraex to her family and their friends, and that was a tough tradition to break.

  Jaxx paid no attention to her frown of displeasure though. “As you know, I used to work for the Freedom Squad,” he began, “but now I’m a project engineer for Triumph Industries. After the Freedom Squad folded, Triumph had to stand on its own and now it’s been bought out by a new investor, and we are reorganizing. Expanding into fields other than mere science. Finding new ways to help people. Triumph is a ‘lifestyle brand’ now.”

  Jaxx made Triumph Lab’s complicity in the former superheroes’ criminal activities seem like more a matter of personal growth. Their own culpability went unmentioned, as well as the damage their union with the Freedom Squad had caused to the larger super-science community. They’d sold their souls to unscrupulous superheroes to make themselves the sole operating lab in town, then they helped build machines that almost doomed the world.

  They betrayed everyone’s trust.

  And their only punishment for that was now expanding their operations into the real estate business and changing their name slightly.

  “Ah.” Sasha nodded, processing that and trying to come up with something polite to say. Her mother had always stressed lady-like positivity, even in the face of horrifying idiocy. “How… nice.”

  She’d never been very good at it, sadly.

  Jaxx looked pleased over her praise, all the same. Generally speaking, people were always happy to hear someone tell them how amazing they were. “Yes, it is pretty spectacular, obviously. My post about it two weeks ago has gotten over 40,000 likes so far.” He bragged.

  “Shouldn’t a science lab be more focused on… science?” She suggested. “Since that’s what you do?”

  “But we’re so much more than that now. We’re involved in all kinds of exciting things. We have the funding to do anything we want.”

  “Shouldn’t that still be science though?” She pressed, feeling confused. “Isn’t that… kind of the main point of running a science lab?”

  “On the contrary. Science is expanding. Opening up to new people, who might not have experience with it, but who still want to be part of the scene. It’s very hip right now, and people want in on that.”

  “A science lab dedicated to marketing science to people who don’t like science.” She summarized in a deadpan.

  “Exactly.” He pointed at her with one meaty finger, flashing her a cover model smile. “And what we want is you.”

  Sasha eyebrows shot up, not expecting that. “Excuse me?”

  He held up a hand to cut off the excited questions and shouts of agreement which he seemed to expect would immediately be forthcoming from her. “Now, now, I think we need to discuss the details before you accept right away, little lady, am I right?”

  She nodded, unable to argue with that. “You are right.”

  “I think the first thing we need…”

  The rest of the man’s pitch was cut off by Sasha’s brother Kurtz, who suddenly burst into the family room in an agitated state. “Which one of you took the weed I had hidden in my closet!?!” Kurtz demanded accusingly, the cigarette dangling from his lip somehow staying in place despite his words.

  Sasha put her finger up to her temple, trying to keep from yelling at him. “Kurtz,” she bit out in warning, “surely you remember Jaxx Brixton? ‘Rascal,’ formally of the Freedom Squad?”

  Kurtz eyed the man silently for a moment, then snorted. “Whatever.” He pressed the button on the kitchen countertop and shelves rose up from below, filled with plastic cups. He removed one, then shoved the shelves back out of sight. “The only time I speak to ex-Capes is when I’m ordering a large fries.”

  Jaxx didn’t look pleased by that, his jaw clenching. “Good to see you again, my boy.” Jaxx held out his hand to shake Kurtz’s but the other man ignored him. “How is your wife?”

  Sasha winced. Jaxx’s question didn’t seem to be a passive aggressive insult, more just his being clueless, but either way it wasn’t a topic that Kurtz would take kindly to.

  “Shailene left me for a jackhole accountant named ‘Albert.’” Kurtz sneered out the name. “Thanks for bringing it up though. It’s healthy for me to deal with my emotions by discussing them with casual acquaintances I don’t like.” He paused for a beat, brushing cigarette ash from off of his vintage Addams Family TV show shirt. “And she’s coming back to me. Everyone says. So this entire thing is stupid. One day we’re going to be laughing about all of this with our grandkids, you watch.” He flopped down into the light yellow sofa below the wall-mounted TV, looking across at Colby. “What’s on today, Colb?”

  “Reruns.” Colby informed him, eating popcorn from a pink plastic bowl and sharing it with her pet.

  Zoe the Giraffe was not a fan of popcorn. Since, again, the animal was a ruminant.

  Kurtz made a face. “Fuck that noise.” He pulled the November 1961 issue of Playboy out from where he’d had it tucked under his arm, and started to flip through it the way a stockbroker might look over an important financial report.

  Sasha blinked at him for a moment.

  Well… at least he was out of his room. That was something.

  Jaxx made a face at Kurtz’s choice of literature. “You shouldn’t be reading that, you know. I did a whole series of posts last month about how harmful pornography is to the self-esteem of young women. It teaches them their only worth is by being objectified by toxic men.” He paused. “It was very well received. It got close to a million likes. Paige King called me ‘an ally’ of all women.”

  Kurtz turned the page. “Thanks so much, Jaxx. For all you do for womankind. Obviously I need to know what random people on Twitter think about everything.” He held up the magazine sideways to ogle one of the models and let out a low, lusty wolf-whistle in appreciation, just to piss Jaxx off. “Fuck, she’s a b
eautiful object, isn’t she? Wouldn’t you love to own that?”

  Jaxx cleared his throat, upset by Kurtz’s sarcasm and wanting to get the conversation with Sasha back on track. “As I was saying,” he got out a little too harshly, “we think you have a place on the Triumph Industries team.”

  “Doing what exactly?” She asked, absently smoothing her skirt with her hand.

  “Does it matter?” Jaxx said in amused amazement, gesturing to their surroundings. “I think we can all agree that something needs to change here.”

  Kurtz looked over at him in genuine confusion. “What’s wrong with our boss pad, man?” He asked seriously, apparently seeing nothing unusual about the decor. He glanced at his niece. “Colby?”

  The girl shrugged helplessly, also seeing nothing wrong with the way they lived. “Zoe?”

  Zoe the giraffe reserved her judgment on the building’s design scheme, because she was too preoccupied with staring at the kernel of popcorn in front of her, like it was some strange alien creature about to attack.

  Sasha’s eyes narrowed at Jaxx, and she opened her mouth to tell the man off, but then they were all distracted by the arrival of another resident of the Westgate Foundation building.

  Sparko the dog, half-wheeled and half-walked into the room. The dog had been built by her grandfather in 1940, using then cutting edge robotic technology. Its silver metal frame was shaped like an English Terrier, but with a boxy unadorned body and a smooth metallic finish. A simple red collar completed the look.

  “Sparko!” Kurtz suddenly shouted at the dog, glancing up from his magazine for a second. “It’s your turn! Fetch me a beer!” He let out a whistling sound. “Go get me a beer, boy! Go ahead! Go fetch it!”

  The dog stopped shuffling on its wheeled feet, tilting its head to the side via noisy servo motors which allowed its neck to rotate clockwise. The little lights representing its eyes blinked several times as its ancient on-board processor tried to make sense of Kurtz’s verbal command.

  Jaxx watched the animal for a long moment. “You have a robotic dog?” He finally asked, finding that strange for some reason.

  “Yes.” Sasha rearranged herself in the seat again. “But it doesn’t listen to us.”

  Sparko apparently decided that Kurtz wasn’t worth assisting, and finished shuffling from the room.

  Jaxx removed his phone from his pocket and snapped a picture of Sparko, then rapidly typed something. “Pics of dogs are good for a couple thousand ‘likes,’ easy…” He remarked to himself, pressing a button on the phone’s display.

  Kurtz flipped the dog off. “Damn robo-dog. Never works right.” He mumbled to himself, putting down his centerfold for a moment. “I built myself a robot girlfriend when I was 14.” He reminisced to the room at large. “Cassidy. She was perfect. Everyone said. Funny and adventurous and tough… The best friend I ever had. We had such fantastic adventures together.” He swallowed, looking down at his hands, sounding wistful. “…But Dad shot her in the chest with a plasma beam, to show me the difference between what was real and what wasn’t.” He nodded at his own story. “And I learned.” He took a long, sad drag from the cigarette in his mouth. “…I learned.”

  Jaxx continued looking at the man for a moment, as if expecting that anecdote to somehow tie back into his own life, then refocused on Sasha when it became apparent that it wouldn’t. “We believe that Thraex is planning something.”

  Sasha poured herself a glass of water from the blue and purple plastic pitcher next to her, which was decorated with the Westgate logo and little mid-century atomic symbols. “It wouldn’t surprise me.”

  “You are aware that he was there when Beaumont Doucet was killed?”

  Sasha nodded. “He was across the street, but I don’t see how…”

  “And that he also had dealings with Argyle Doucet, before the man was found dead.” Jaxx interrupted.

  “I read that it was suicide.” She reminded him.

  “Yes. ‘Suicide.’” Jaxx agreed sarcastically. “And then there’s Pericles Merridew, who had a long history with your step-brother. They… were not friends.”

  “Thraex doesn’t have many friends, Mr. Brixton. But that doesn’t make him a killer.”

  “We believe that he gave Councilman Merridew a considerable amount of money.”

  “To be honest, I have a hard time believing that Thraex would give money away, Mr. Brixton. Especially not to a man he hated.”

  Jaxx leaned back in his chair, then thought better of it. “Thraex was using the money to control this neighborhood. And just when Merridew was trying to break free of that control… he ended up being killed in that warehouse explosion.”

  Sasha simply stared at him, unable to say anything.

  Thraex hadn’t mentioned knowing Merridew to that extent or any kind of business deal they might have had together.

  “You find nothing odd about the fact that three different people connected to your step-brother have died this week?” Jaxx pressed. “He’d had words with Beaumont immediately before the man’s death, Argyle Doucet owned Thraex money and refused to pay, and Councilman Pericles Merridew and Thraex had several run-ins over the future of Reichelt Park. After that incident a few years ago, half the town knew Thraex would kill him one day, so it’s really no surprise that it finally happened.”

  Sasha was silent for a moment. “Why would Thraex suddenly decide to become a serial killer? Why would he snap within the last few days?”

  “We think he’s trying to bring his father into this dimension.”

  That got Sasha’s full attention, and some of her water sloshed onto the floor as she jolted. “What? Why?” She stammered in surprise. “Why would he ever do that?”

  Jaxx crossed his arms over his chest. “We believe that…”

  “Who’s ‘we’?” Kurtz asked, not looking up from his vintage adult magazine.

  “Triumph Industries.” Jaxx reminded him.

  “Stale, recycled ideas.” Kurtz critiqued, reaching into a drawer and pulling out a freeze-ray to chill a bottle of gin which was sitting on the bar behind him. He had it turned up too high though, so the entire bottle disintegrated into frozen dust and blew away as soon as he touched it. “Total jank, just done to keep up face and justify their existence. Show them anything new and they’d piss their pants and cry about it because you broke some imagined ‘rule’ of the universe.” Kurtz found another bottle of gin and this time simply poured it into a glass and drank it at room temperature. “Don’t know enough engineering to sharpen a goddamn pencil, they just want to sell condos, and spatulas with their logo on them.”

  Jaxx obviously didn’t like that analysis of his business. “Triumph Industries and I have been monitoring him for some time now…”

  “I don’t think anyone on this earth monitors Thraex as closely as Sash…” Kurtz cut in.

  She glared at him.

  “…and we’ve noticed that he’s obtaining materials which could be used to build some kind of device which could open a portal to his father’s dimension.” Jaxx finished, jaw firming. “We cannot allow that.”

  “I… I…” Sasha’s mind raced, trying to comprehend the ramifications of this news, “…I don’t think he’d do that.” She finally got out, weakly. “He hates his father.”

  Even if he didn’t, there was no way he’d want to bring the man here. It would destroy their world.

  She might not always like being around the man and they’d certainly had a rather tumultuous history together… but Thraex wouldn’t betray them.

  He wouldn’t do that.

  He might kill them, but he’d never betray them in order to do it.

  Again, he was a complicated maze of a man, but he was an honest one.

  “We believe that he intends to serve as his father’s right-hand man when the invasion comes. His herald.” Jaxx leaned back in his chair, still visibly uncomfortable from the shape of the backrest. “We recognize that your family blacked-out the exact coordinates of Xerzinax
’s dimension to keep anyone else from visiting it again, but with the right equipment, Thraex could counteract that.”

  “Sure,” Kurtz snorted, “with his vast scientific knowledge, right? Bastard can’t even install a security camera on his own.”

  “We think he’s already got at least part of the materials he needs.” Jaxx continued. “The other night, wire was stolen from a warehouse nearby…”

  “Yes, we were there.” Sasha agreed. “But we stopped the…”

  Jaxx talked right over her. “…and then the police evidence locker was forced open and the wire was again stolen.” He met her eyes. “The body of the man suspected of stealing the wire from the police station was discovered in his apartment this afternoon. Tortured to death. And the wire was nowhere to be found.” He let that news sink in. “We believe that Thraex obtained the wire from the thief and is now planning on using it to open up a portal to his home dimension.”

  “I don’t see how.” She argued. “He’s with us most of the day, he couldn’t possibly…”

  Jaxx reached into his pocket and pulled out a photo. “The security camera in the building took a shot of this woman, who we believe to be the actual murderer.” He handed her the grainy shot of what appeared to be a tall, muscular woman with scarlet red skin and golden horns. “She’s very attractive, obviously, radiating sensual danger and mystery.” He pointed out randomly, then paused for a beat, recognizing that it went against his newfound façade of feminist protector. “…If you’re into that kind of thing.”

  Kurtz flipped the page in his magazine, not looking up. “Oh good, that was going to be my first question, yeah. ‘Is she fuckable?’” He rolled his eyes. “This is the problem with the Cape set and sexists like you, Jaxx: you tell them there’s an evil alien in town, looking to work with my douchebag step-brother to kill everyone on the planet, and their first question is how big her tits are.” He lazily blew out a cloud of smoke, forming a ring. “Superheroes have got the most fucked-up ‘toxic’ priorities. I’m severely disappointed in you. Truly… what would Twitter say.”