Full Metal Superhero (Book 6): Explosive Arsenal

by Haskell, Jeffery H.

  One pull on the right book later, and we’re surrounded by computers and spare parts. Tempus took the kinetic manipulator I was working on, but he’ll be disappointed when it doesn’t work—which almost guarantees we’ll see him again. Since I can wait for him to come to me, that just leaves my tech being out there and Armory.

  “Epic, update on Artemis and Project Nomad?” I ask my AI.

  “Project Nomad?” Kate asks with a raised brow.

  “Before whoever hacked my satellite became a priority I—”

  Ahem. You?

  I shake my head with a chuckle. “We created a worm, similar to Shai-hulud. You remember, the worm I used to infiltrate Cat-7 and take them down a byte at a time.”

  She nods. “So, this Nomad is a worm? What’s it trying to infiltrate?”

  I wheel around to my central computer, which is really my primary theoretical and programming workstation. Each of the other five workstations handles a different aspect of my research. “Pretty much everywhere. After the attempted coup, the government wised up to the danger Epic posed. They beefed up security on their sensitive areas. Even so, it’s not enough to stop him. The only real way to stop him is to keep their intelligence offline. However, for anything to be useful, eventually it has to be exposed to the Internet. Hence, Nomad. He’s spent the last few days infiltrating everywhere. He’s harmless and invisible, distributed over every piece of data, like a real-life virus he’s spreading with contact. We’re at...” I punch a few keys to bring up the saturation levels. “Sixty percent, not bad.”

  “Sixty percent of what?” Kate asks.

  “Haven’t you been listening? Of computers,” I tell her.

  “Wait... sixty percent... of computers where?”

  “Everywhere. The world. Once we’re at one-hundred percent he can start looking for any signs of my tech and once he does...”

  “Triple word score?” She asks?

  I snort, covering my face to hide my embarrassment. I hate snorting. “Then I will know who took my stuff. I can track them down while Epic deletes every trace of my tech on every computer, everywhere.”

  That is the plan, anyway. No plan survives contact with the enemy.

  “What enemy?” Kate asks. She walks around the lab, running her hands along the monitors and frowning when they come back dusty. “You need to clean this place, Amelia. Or have the staff come in here. I know you like to protect it, but this isn’t healthy.”

  I don’t even know how to respond to that, so I don’t. “The enemy he is referring to is whoever built those giant robots like the one we fought in Buenos Aires. I believe they are the same person who designed the Armory’s suits as well as the person responsible for hacking Artemis.”

  “I thought Tempus hacked the satellite?”

  “Frank? No. I think he saw it happen in the future and used it to his advantage. No, the person who hacked my satellite has to be the same person who is exploiting my tech. Not the US Government or whoever else has it, but someone capable of analyzing my designs and recreating them.”

  Or cloning them, as the case may be. The armor fragment we recovered from Rafael’s robot had an identical molecular matrix to Amelia’s MK III suit. Not similar, the same. Which is why I have been scouring the source code of Artemis, looking for the intrusion. Once I find it, I can trace it back to the source and send in the team to take him down.

  “But who is he?” Kate asks.

  “I have no idea, but... we will soon.”

  Dinner with my parents is a bit of a luxury. Worry about Carlos nags at me but I needed to do this. They still live in Seattle, not at the hospital, though. They liked the city enough they decided to stay after Doctor Grace declared she’d done everything medically possible to restore their memories. Sadly, they haven’t recovered their memories, but Dr. Grace is still hopeful they might— in time. I just need to spend more of it with them. Spending a year and a half as an Amelia-cicle didn’t help. Then everything in Argentina… and then, and then, and then... Essentially, as Kate put it, “You need to make time.”

  Ivar’s Seafood sits neatly on the docks with a terrific view of the Puget Sound. The last time I was here I downed an alien drone in the Sound and fired off a mass driver that would end up vaporizing almost a half mile of the docks. When the Emjet flew over the city I couldn’t even tell where I’d blasted the heck out of things. I know Epic funneled a lot of our money into helping make repairs through anonymous donors. There are times I’m glad we have money to do those things.

  Your mom is talking to you. Epic blinks the message several times drawing my attention.

  “Right. Sorry, uh Mom,” I say trying to hide my faux pas by raising my spoon and taking a sip of my soup.

  “I said, ‘are you liking being back?’ Kate visited us often while you were out in space, letting us know you were still alive. We were hoping when you returned you would be able to spend more time with us...?” She seems genuinely hopeful.

  I feel sorry that I haven’t. Part of me is still hiding from them. Only part, though. “I’m sorry, to both of you,” I say, putting my spoon down and resting my chin on my fists. “I know this hasn’t been easy for you. I guess sometimes it’s easier to bury myself in the work than it is to disengage and maintain my relationships.”

  To my surprise, they both burst out laughing. Dad holds his napkin over his mouth he’s laughing so hard. Mom just chuckles, leaning back in her chair and staring up at the ceiling. They’re so full of life and mirth I can’t help but join in. The waiter walks by with a fresh batch of drinks; I see him giving us the eye as he leaves. I grab my Coke and drain half the glass before we start talking again. I put it down next to the other three empties. What can I say? I like Coca-Cola.

  My dad reaches over and places his hand on mine and squeezes. “You’ve described the problem of every scientist ever. Your mom and I have had a number of discussions on this very subject.”

  This may be the first time he’s spontaneously touched me in such a familiar way. He can’t know this is exactly what he used to do when I was a kid and we would be having a discussion on my behavior. He looks at me, his eyes going wide as he feels something too. I glance down at his hand and am overwhelmed with a desire to cover it with mine, so I do. Everything I’ve held back for the last several years… all the walls and barriers I put up come crashing down so suddenly that I can’t see or hear… My heart aches as I pull myself to him and throw my arms around his neck and bury myself in his chest.

  “Papa,” I whisper. Until this moment they weren’t back. Even if they never regain all their memories, part of them remembers me. The way he used to hold my hand, how he would pick me up and spin me around. I’m sobbing, I hate that I’m sobbing. We’re in public but I can’t stop. I’ve waited so long for them to be back. To come home to me. I worked for this every day of my life for fourteen years. Now, I keenly feel the last few years I’ve wasted because I thought they weren’t them.

  His arms wrap around me, followed by my mama’s, and everything is right in the world. I can feel their warmth and love and for an instant, I’m a six-year-old girl again coming home from the first-grade science fair with the grand prize.

  “We love you, Amelia,” Mom whispers in my ear. “We may not remember the specifics, but we feel the emotions. You’re our daughter and we love you.”

  I want to stay there forever, with them holding me and the warm fuzzies in my chest. I can’t believe how stupid I’ve been the last couple of years. I made a decision based on fear and it was the worst decision of my life. My doubt that they would never remember me, my fear that I couldn’t have them back led me to pretend they didn’t exist. Dumb, dumb, dumb.

  We break apart and I don’t even care that there are people watching us. I wipe my face with the back of my sleeve before mom hands me a napkin. “You’ll get makeup on your shirt, dear.”

  “Ha. Kate wishes.” Mom raises her eyebrow at me. “I don’t really wear much makeup. Kate wishes I would put mor
e on, but I don’t really enjoy doing it. I try to keep it to the bare minimum,” I say by way of explanation.

  “Maybe we should do it together? There’s no reason you can’t enjoy makeup and be a scientist. Besides, I’m sure Luke would appreciate— oh dear. I’m sorry honey,” Mom says.

  The sudden spike of pain at the mention of his name does little to dampen the mood. I miss him, but I can put him in a box while I figure out what to do about it. I hold up my hand. “Don’t worry about it. I’m dealing with it. I’ll get him back. I know I will.”

  They nod, smiling. I realize we’re all holding hands around the small table. I need this in my life. Stability, family, friends. They keep me grounded. I—

  Amelia, we are about to have company. There are several individuals from the Pacific Northwest Super-team making their way through the restaurant toward you. Based on vitals and visual cues they may be expecting a fight.

  “Sorry Mom, Dad, one second,” I tell my parents. “Epic, should I get them out of here?” I nod toward my folks.

  I cannot imagine why they would be acting in such an aggressive manner, so yes, discretion is the better part of valor.

  I nod to myself. Epic’s right. I don’t want to risk my parents if things go south. “Listen, something is happening and I don’t want you hurt,” I say. The way they instantly go alert frustrates me to no end. This was the first family dinner we’ve had in sixteen years and someone has to spoil it. “Put on those glasses I gave you and Epic will guide you out.”

  “Oh, I modified those to contacts, I’m already talking to him,” Mom says with a grin that makes me smile from ear to ear.

  “Contacts? You’re going to have to tell me how you did that,” I say.

  “Come on Hope, I think I see the problem,” Dad says as he slips on the glasses I gave them. He stands up, helping Mom up at the same time. They give me a loving look before hustling out the back way.

  Epic has the Emjet en route. Maybe I should seriously talk to them about moving to Phoenix. Or perhaps I should move up here? Nah I don’t like the rain and it’s too cold. I get enough flack for bundling up in Arizona. It’s not my fault my circulation sucks.

  The first few drops of the aforementioned rain splash against the skylights above as the Northwest super team finally enters the section I’m sitting in. A wave of murmurs follows them as the rest of the diners see them. By the time they’re standing in front of me, rain is crashing hard outside. Epic tags them all, though there is one, in particular, he doesn’t have to. They came in the room separately but by the time they reach my table they stand together shoulder to shoulder. Four big, bad, superheroes and one little me. I see several waiters talking trying to figure out what to do. Costumed superheroes are an unusual enough sight. Like the police, people often don’t see them unless there is trouble. I hope there isn’t trouble.

  The AR tags pop up over their heads. Enforcer is the team leader. He’s the strong man, an F4 with strength and invulnerability. Emerald Knight is a teleporter and energy projector, she’s an F3 in both. Which means her beams probably can’t pierce my armor. Weather Witch is next; she’s the most powerful on the team. All of nineteen years old and an F5 weather controller. I’m guessing she’s the reason it’s raining outside. Her eyes are cloudy gray and little bolts of lightning flash through them. If I were standing I’d be taller than her—she’s only 5’2”. Last, and certainly least, is Triple Threat. I hate him so much. Not just for the way he treated Kate, but his cocky demeanor makes me want to punch him in the face.

  I wheel around, putting a pleasant smile on my face as I greet them. “If you had called, I could have had a table ready for you, but I’m sure the manager can make something happen,” I say. I know they’re not here to eat but I want to be as reasonable as possible. I sure wish Kate was here.

  Weather Witch scowls, looking up at Enforcer to speak. He seems somewhat unsure of what he’s supposed to do. When Witch steps forward to point her finger at me things click into place. Enforcer doesn’t want to be here, but he’s either crushing on Witch or he doesn’t have control of his team. Either way isn’t good for me.

  “You need to leave Seattle. You’re not wanted here,” she says glaring down at me. The hostility in her voice leaves no doubt as to the way she feels.

  I fold my hands neatly across my lap and force myself to smile. “Besides Dwayne here,” I say with a nod toward Triple Threat, whose wicked smile falters when I look at him. “I’ve never met any of you. What’s your deal?” I know the media has been laying into me of late. I guess while I was gone and everyone but my team thought I was dead. I was an easy target to blame for everything from the coup to the alien invasion. I didn’t really catch up before, but since the protesters, I’ve had Epic filling me in. I didn’t realize the attitude had filtered over to other superheroes. To be honest, I haven’t had a lot of interaction with anyone outside my team.

  “Our ‘deal’ is you’re a murderer,” she continues. “You should be behind bars, not eating in a restaurant like a human being. None of us feel safe with you in the city.” Weather Witch isn’t tall, but she doesn’t have to be. I’m in a wheelchair looking up at all of them. They tower over me and the way she presses forward puts me on the defensive. I have to bury my urge to armor up. It would only escalate the situation. I channel my inner Kate and try to calm things down. The irony here is she’s claiming not to feel safe and she’s one of the most powerful supers on the west coast. I don’t even have superpowers.

  “I can’t control how you feel, only how I act. I haven’t done anything wrong—”

  “Liar. You’re a liar and a murderer. You attacked Triple Threat in his base, you killed Behemoth, stole alien technology, murdered an entire race of people and then killed a beloved man who ran a charity! Tell me I’m wrong,” she yells at me. The crazy in her eyes is alarming.

  “I’ve never murdered anyone,” I say. Anger and fear mix in my bloodstream and my heart starts pounding. I grip the armrests on my chair trying really hard to stay calm. I don’t like being yelled at and accused of murder, I don’t imagine anyone does.

  “You’re a liar and a killer,” she says, leaning back then jutting forward to spit on me. I hold up my hand to keep it from hitting me in the face. I’ve had about enough of people spitting on me. Despite how angry I am and the underlying current of fear that’s making my chest squeeze the life out of me, I’m not going to run away, or armor up. This isn’t a movie; if I escalate this, people will be hurt and property destroyed. As satisfying as it would be to smack the crap out of them, I can’t.

  I let out a sigh, wiping my arm off with the napkin from the table. “Whatever you think I’ve done, it doesn’t give you the right to spit on me. You don’t like me, fine. You don’t want me in your city? Too bad. I didn’t want my parents kidnapped and mind-wiped when I was six. I didn’t want to be stuck in this chair my whole life or have my boyfriend—”

  Triple Threat lunges forward at me, lifting his foot like he’s going to kick me. I tense up as best I can, crossing my arms in front of me, but he doesn’t kick me. He kicks the side of my chair. He’s strong enough and has the right angle, the whole thing flips on its side, spilling me onto the floor with a scream. I hit the ground with a thump and the chair, all three hundred pounds of it, topples on me with a ground-shaking thump. I hear something snap in my leg, but I don’t feel it. I squeeze my eyes shut. I know I’d be fully justified in suiting up and smashing their faces in, but I refuse to give in. I will have the moral high ground here.

  Gasps fill the air as the people watching react. There is a restaurant full of guests and up until this point, no one said anything. Interfering with a costumed superhero is akin to interfering with the police in most cases.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I hear a man yell. “Get away from her,” he says. He has an air of authority about him.

  “She’s not really paralyzed, she’s faking it and we’re going to show the world she’s a frau
d,” Witch yells back. So that was their plan? Knock me out of my chair when I wasn’t expecting it? I can’t believe they thought I wasn’t paralyzed. Idiots. I don’t know what’s worse, their idiotic plan, or the fact that I let them get this close to me.

  I’m face down in the very nice carpet Ivar’s has, with my palms pressed against the ground trying to keep the chair from crushing my ribs. “A little help here,” I say. My breath comes out in ragged gasps.

  Amelia, you need immediate medical attention. Your vitals are all over the place.

  “Call Kate,” I grunt. The man who’s yelling at the supers kneels down next to me and puts his hands under the chair and heaves.

  “Damn honey, your chair weighs a ton.” He grunts as he lifts, he legs quivering with the effort. Enforcer breaks free from whatever keeps him from acting and he grabs the corner of my chair and easily lifts it up and sits it down on the wheels.

  “I’m gonna be sick,” someone says. The man, an off-duty police officer if the gun on his belt under his suit jacket is any indication, puts his hands in front of my eyes.

  “Don’t look,” he says. “You’re better off not seeing it.” He stands up and turns on Weather Witch and Triple Threat. “Are you out of your damn mind? Put your hands up, you’re under arrest.”

  I think I’m as shocked as they are.

  “Excu— excuse me?” Triple says.

  “Are you deaf as well as stupid? You just attacked an innocent civilian in a wheelchair. I don’t know what your beef with her is, but no one can keep from screaming with bone sticking out of their skin. Look at her? Does she even look like she’s in pain?”

  Oh God. A fracture? “Epic, I need Kate!” I yell out loud. The officer glances at me.

  “Don’t worry, ma’am, I’ll get paramedics.”

  I am working on it. Her phone is off, routing calls through alternates.

  I hit the floor with a fist, desperately trying not to look down. I know what will happen, I’ll pass out.