Forging Hephaestus

by Drew Hayes

  “Only another five minutes or so,” Stacey told her.

  “Five minutes? Sweet Jesus, someone hand me that bottle of champagne. I’m not going to survive if I have to wait an entire five minutes.” Without waiting for anyone to actually comply with her request, Alexis reached over, grabbed the neck of the open bottle, and gleefully sipped down the remainder of the sparkling wine.

  “Nice to know this won’t be different than any of our other girls’ night outs,” Stacey chuckled under her breath. Tori and Beverly exchanged worried glances, which only went to show that the weeks spent training with the guild had succeeded in heightening their ability to sense impending trouble.

  Chapter 45

  Not for the first time that evening, Donald adjusted his tie. While he’d been perfectly content to go with Ren wearing a t-shirt and jeans, Barney and Jessica had been waiting for him the minute he approached his room. As a new member of the AHC, he had a certain image to project, which meant not going out to high-end clubs looking slovenly. And the clubs they were going to would be high-end, as would the restaurant where they grabbed dinner. While the AHC wouldn’t go so far as to alert the press that one of the town’s newest superheroes would be out and about, they certainly weren’t going to risk people snapping pictures of him in jeans at a burger joint.

  So they’d dressed him, made reservations at a restaurant Donald couldn’t imagine being able to afford, and booked a roped-off VIP area in a newly opened club (all on the AHC’s dime, thankfully) before car service picked him and Ren up. Unlike Donald’s own expression, his friend’s false face was brimming with excitement, his squat neck swiveling as he looked out the windows at the lights of downtown Ridge City. It occurred to Donald for the first time that, aside from busting the would-be diamond thieves, Ren probably hadn’t left headquarters since the day he was transformed. Moments later, another thought struck him, and Donald’s eyes went wide as a curse escaped his mouth.

  “Oh, shit.”

  “What?” In an instant, the joy was gone from Ren’s face. In its place was a primal, fierce gaze. He was ready for whatever threat might have interrupted their night and intended to make anyone responsible for ruining his first evening of freedom pay dearly.

  “I just realized, I’m known outside my mask, but your face is brand new. If we go out like this, you’ll be linked to hanging out with a cape and your anonymity goes out the window.”

  “Is that all?” Ren eased back into his seat, the tension melting away as an easy smile took its place. “Don’t worry. Apollo already briefed me on that and taught me how to deal with it. Turns out the doodad they gave me is more than a one-trick pony.”

  Ren held up his wrist, where a projection of a fashionable watch concealed the magical bracelet. Touching it gently with his left hand (it looked to Donald as if he were simply adjusting the dial), Ren’s face and skin tone began to shift. In seconds, he no longer resembled the man Donald had gotten into the car with. With another quick spin, the image shifted once more, going back to the original setting.

  “Multi-functional, in case I ever need to have different cover identities,” Ren explained. “They went all out on it. So don’t worry; even if people see this version of me tonight, I can always look like someone else if I want to go unnoticed later. But I don’t mind having an identity that’s associated with the AHC. If I’m doing the work, it might be nice to get a little recognition from time to time.”

  “Doesn’t seem like there’s much chance of that not happening.” Donald peered out the window, noting all the people on the streets making their way to various places of entertainment. His usual social anxiety had his stomach churning, a sensation made all the worse by the fear that people might recognize him. The weight on his own wrist, a compact device tucked away beneath his sleeves and pre-programmed with a myriad of digital items to draw at his fingertips, seemed much heavier than it should.

  Given the choice, Donald would have left without it, but on that point, there had been zero wiggle room. Every member of the AHC was expected to have whatever tools were needed for their power on them at all times. One never knew when trouble would break out or they’d be called into the field. For better or worse, he was a superhero now, and that meant there was no true time off. If the need arose, he was expected to act.

  Donald tried not to think about that as they rolled down the streets. It was a Friday evening in a town that most of the nation’s superheroes called home. Things would be fine. He and Ren would have a fun night out, that was all.

  He hoped.

  * * *

  Dinner at the Gerhardt home that evening was a simple, though tumultuous, event. Ivan made pizzas in the oven—a Friday tradition dating back to when he’d had no free time and simply ordered them from a nearby delivery place—and had planned on settling in with his kids to watch a movie. Unfortunately, Rick’s chief goal was to slip away from the family event and go off to a party with his friends. A reminder from Ivan that he was still grounded for sneaking out had gone over about as well as could be expected with a teenager.

  Eventually, Rick gave up and settled in to watch the movie, an easily-forgettable comedy that left Ivan wishing he were still inclined to break the law, as he would have happily beaten his rental fee out of the actors on screen. With nothing in the movie to distract his thoughts, they inevitably wandered to the guild and what was occurring that evening.

  Tori would be fine; Ivan had no worry about that. In spite of how she could come off, Xelas was dependable when the occasion truly demanded it. Not to mention she was one of the most powerful members of the guild—working hand-in-hand with Wade had elevated her technology to a place no one else on Earth would easily match. Paired with Morgana, Gork, and Stasis, no army in existence could harm the apprentices, to say nothing of the sort of things they might encounter in Ridge City. Certain capes of near demi-god level notwithstanding, of course.

  Strangely enough, what Ivan found himself more concerned with was the fact that Thuggernaut and Johnny were hosting a guys’ night for the other two apprentices without a single council member in attendance. Not that there weren’t good reasons—Wade was far too busy, and Balaam wasn’t exactly at the top of anyone’s guest list—but he felt a curious pang of guilt at the fact that he could have made time for it. Ivan couldn’t imagine why he cared about such an event; he’d worked as hard as he could to stay only tenuously linked to the guild. He’d probably missed countless such nights without even a single thought spared. Yet here he was, wondering if he shouldn’t at least try to make an appearance.

  Part of it was Tori’s influence, obviously. She’d dragged him further back into the guild than anyone in years had managed; Ivan suspected that was part of why Wade tasked him with teaching her in the first place. But it was more than just that. Now that he was partially back in, he was seeing more, knowing more, and consequently caring more.

  Absentmindedly, Ivan reached out and ruffled his daughter’s hair. Rick was too grown to enjoy such displays of fatherly affection, but thankfully Beth still embraced them. Ivan cared for very little in the world, but he loved his children dearly and was impossibly grateful they’d been spared from seeing his world. It was only luck and lots of planning that had kept them away from any confluences or accidents that might turn them into metas. There had been numerous occasions where, if things had gone differently, they could have been the ones found wandering the street, causing wanton destruction with their new powers. How involved would he have been if they were the ones the guild brought through that door, scared and desperate to understand what has happening, hoping against hope that they might find a way to control the unnatural abilities thrust upon them?

  It was impossible to say for certain since a hypothetical was just that, but he suspected he would do more. And perhaps he still could. Only after the movie was done and his children were asleep, obviously. Helping at the guild was all well and good; however, Ivan always put his only family first. No matter what else might occ
ur, he would protect these two above all others. That was a truth Ivan clung to, one he used to help keep his more irresponsible urges in check. It was a reason that fueled him when the rare true monster threatened to destroy the entire planet. Nothing else mattered more: not old grudges or alliances, not even working with people he hated. His children made him take up fights he would have never bothered with, and oftentimes the presence of Ivan Gerhardt had made an important difference.

  Though they didn’t know it, Rick and Beth had, albeit inadvertently, saved the world on several occasions.

  * * *

  After the lively affair that was dinner, in which “Gretchen” put down five entrees in front of an astonished staff and “Alexis” ran up a three hundred dollar tab on wine, everyone piled back into the limo and headed off to the next destination. Tori knew they were going to hit a club or bar—she couldn’t imagine the councilors had gotten everyone this dressed up just to eat—but her dearth of knowledge regarding the Ridge City party scene meant she didn’t recognize the glow of neon and flash of spotlights as the limo pulled up to a four-story building with a line stretching around the block.

  “No freaking way,” Beverly said, staring out the window like there was gold littering the streets. “You got us into Specter Lounge? I know a dozen people who’ve tried to get in since it opened and none of them had any luck.”

  “Your associates don’t have our connections,” Alexis replied cheerfully. “Let’s just say that, between money and influence, guild members don’t often bother with lines or waiting lists.”

  The limo pulled to a stop next to the curb, where those stuck waiting with the faintest hope of entry watched as the six women piled out of their ride with as much grace as each could manage. This turned out to be a pretty fair amount, with the exception of Tori, who lost her balance thanks to the damn heels and nearly took a tumble to the ground. Before she’d fallen more than a few inches, a firm grip had wrapped around her shoulder and halted the descent. Alexis, her reaction-time expectedly inhuman, smiled casually as she righted Tori—a grin that said all too clearly the apprentice would be getting ridiculed for her slip once they were indoors.

  Outside the limo and with both feet finally on the ground, Tori took the opportunity to get a sense of the building and was suitably impressed. It was a vast expanse of real estate, probably formerly an office building now converted for its new purpose. A silver sign rested just above the entrance, the words “Specter Lounge” lit by white neon around the letters. Spotlights from the top of the building flashed and wove intermittently, drawing the attention of everyone on the street, not just those trying to gain entry. From inside, a slight bass throb could be heard pumping through the walls.

  A sharp whistle from Beverly broke Tori’s spell. She looked around to find that Lynn was leading the group up to the three bouncers who stood overseeing the line. The largest of them saw their approach and stepped forward. He met them with careful, assessing eyes, trying to figure out if they were asking an innocent question or about to make trouble. Tori couldn’t make out what Lynn said to the muscular man, who she’d have considered more impressive if not for time spent around people like Thuggernaut, but in the span of ten seconds, his tough-guy persona melted away. In its place was a man who could not have been more accommodating as he pulled aside the decorative rope and pushed open the front door. Like a caged tiger, the music came bursting through the entrance, nearly bowling Tori over with its ferocity.

  “Don’t worry,” Stacey assured her. “Where we’re going, it’s not nearly as bad.”

  Though not at all certain what to make of such a cryptic statement, Tori followed the others as they walked forward, noting the angry whispers that rose up from the people in line. She couldn’t say she blamed them; if this were a place she actually wanted to be, it would have been infuriating to watch others stroll in so casually. Then Tori was through the door and all thoughts of the world outside or the people still in line completely vanished from her mind.

  Specter Lounge was decorated entirely in a scheme of silver, white, and purple. Those hues ran through the entire establishment, from the numerous bars stationed throughout the area, to the massive dance floor that occupied almost the entirety of the ground floor, to the DJ booth overlooking all the writhing bodies, to the three upper floors that provided a panoramic view of the giant orgy of motion that occurred below.

  Even more striking than the place itself were the people inside. Tori had felt a bit overdressed at dinner, but now she felt like she’d wandered into a fashion show wearing sweats and a stained t-shirt. Every person she saw was dressed like they were about to step onto a runway. Most were so stunning and sculpted that her brain soon overloaded and lost the ability to distinguish between them. People were wearing designer everything, outfits that cost more than her old motorcycle—and that wasn’t even counting the high-dollar accessories.

  Stacey’s gentle hand on her shoulder guided Tori away from the entrance, bringing her back to reality while simultaneously steering her to their next destination. A few feet away from the front door, guarded by a pair of men that were slimmer than the bouncers yet immediately recognizable as more dangerous, was a silver elevator. Again, Lynn said something Tori couldn’t hear over the music pounding through her ears, and again the guards parted cordially. All six women easily fit inside the spacious elevator, and when the doors shut, Tori found herself overcome with the sudden crush of silence.

  “Thank goodness,” she muttered, her own voice sounding strange to her battered ears. “I felt like I was taking another one of those silver-cored robots’ sonic attacks by the end.”

  “Yeah, they keep it pretty unwelcoming on the first floor,” Alexis agreed. “No idea why, but somehow that makes it all the more exclusive. I tell you, the things these places pull, yet somehow we're the criminals.”

  “Fortunately, the VIP areas offer much more enjoyable accommodations.” Lynn pressed the number four on the elevator’s panel, which it lit up after a moment. The elevator began to move. “Of course, such areas are highly restricted. Generally, only the extravagantly wealthy and famous are allowed up to the fourth floor.”

  Stacey chuckled darkly to herself. “There’s no movie star on earth better known than some of us. I’d say we definitely fit the famous part.”

  “Don’t be silly, those are the old versions of us,” Lynn corrected. “Tonight, we are merely well-connected, which I find to be far more enjoyable than infamy ever was.”

  The ding of the elevator’s arrival interrupted their conversation, doors sliding open to reveal more guards. This pair quickly stepped aside, revealing a sprawling area that visibly wrapped around the open section in the middle of the building. True to Lynn’s word, the music was greatly reduced this high, turning more to background noise than an overpowering presence. Tori suspected the club had implemented carefully-designed acoustics to achieve such an effect; the odd shape of the walls was all the confirmation she required.

  This area had the same color scheme as the ground floor, though that was one of the few similarities they shared. Here, clusters of seats were carefully grouped together, tables full of various mixers and liquors set on each one. Tori didn’t deal much with the club scene, but she knew enough to understand what bottle service was, along with the fact that it was idiotically expensive. Then again, they were probably on Doctor Mechaniacal’s tab tonight, and billionaires had the luxury of making such indulgences. She hoped everyone else up there had a similar fiscal situation, otherwise it was shamefully wasteful.

  While by no means deserted, the top floor of the club was hardly at full capacity either. Scanning the tables already in use, Tori was surprised to recognize a few of the faces present. One had been on a sci-fi show she grew up loving, another was a famous anchorman who did war correspondence, and one was someone she was pretty certain she’d seen plastered on billboards selling hand cream. It was curious to see the familiar in such a strange place, and as she turned her head t
o keep scanning the room, Tori saw a face she knew well. Much too well, in fact.

  She felt her stomach twist at the realization that her two separate worlds were about to collide. Sadly, her stomach didn’t share this information with her mouth, which spat out words of surprise before she could even consider trying to slip by unseen.

  “Holy shit. Donald?”

  Chapter 46

  Every ounce of residual annoyance Donald felt toward Barney and Jessica for making him dress nicely evaporated the moment he heard Tori’s voice say his name. Turning in his chair, he nearly fell over at the sight of her. She’d always been pretty—he’d noticed that on the first day she walked into the office—but there was also a bit of tension that seemed to constantly linger in her, as if she were too aware of her actions and speech. Whether it was the clothes, the makeup, or the company, something had lightened her mood, and with an aura of cheer around her, Tori was so beautiful it nearly took his breath away. It certainly stole his mind, as he gazed at her for several dumbfounded seconds until a very light kick on the shin from Ren reminded him that words were appropriate in this situation.

  “Tori? Wow, I didn’t expect to see you until Monday.” Donald rose from his chair, oblivious to the people taking notice of his movements as they would note any recently debuted superhero. Before his brain could fully kick back into gear and nix the idea, he gave her a brief, friendly hug. After they parted, he finally got a good look at the five other women with her and began to wonder just how a meeting like this was possible.

  “I thought you were in the hospital,” Donald said, noting the analytical stares Tori’s friends were giving him.

  “Oh... yeah. I was. Got out today, decided to go celebrate. You know, seeing death makes you want to live life, that sort of thing. These are...” Tori’s brain raced, trying to think of a plausible reason she’d have to be hanging out with five distinctly gorgeous women in the VIP room of an exclusive club. She jumped on the first thought that popped into her head, which was part of the backstory Ivan had spun for her all those weeks ago.