by Drew Hayes
“Took you long enough.” The voice filled his head and caused his fingers to tingle, but otherwise was nothing more than a phantom.
“No need to be snippy, I’ve had quite the busy day.” Though Balaam could hear these words as he spoke them, no sound actually left his mouth. Instead, it carried through his body, into the mirror, and filled the mind of the recipient just as their voice came to him.
“As have I. The confluence draws near, and it seems that this will be the biggest we’ve borne witness to.”
“There’s no question about that. We’re going to see a lot of new metas, though only time will tell whether or not they are actually top-tier.”
“Quality or quantity, so long as we get enough, I think we’ll finally have what we need to make our move.”
“I like the enthusiasm, but I’m going to see what we actually reel in before I start planning the fish-fry.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Balaam wished he could reclaim them. That was an idiom of the river-dwelling child he’d been, not the mystical master of the occult he was.
“Accurate, if a bit oddly stated. We’ll see what sort of crop the confluence reaps, then make our plans from there. But I must tell you, I’m growing impatient at all this waiting.”
“You and I both,” Balaam agreed, thankful that his partner had let the phrase pass largely unremarked on and a bit jealous of the much-cooler reaping analogy. “Living in the shadows, hiding our glory at every turn… this guild is scarcely any better than Pseudonym and his ilk. Our tails have been tucked between our legs for far too long. It is time we reclaimed the pride that is rightfully ours.”
“Couldn’t agree with you more. Soon we can move, but first, we’ll see what gifts the confluence delivers.”
“Then let’s cross our fingers,” Balaam replied. “And hope that the next few days prove to be very, very interesting.”
Chapter 12
Much as Tori loathed to admit it, she was getting the hang of being an office drone. The work wasn’t challenging: not for most employees and not for someone who’d been able to build functioning robotic cars before she’d tested out of the third grade. The hard part was bearing through the pointlessness of it all. So much of Ivan’s work, and therefore her work, fell into the category of metrics. Forms, files, and hours of people’s days were dedicated to tracking what they, and those in their departments, were doing.
Wednesday morning, during a period where she had nothing to do but tried to look busy, Tori did some rough number-crunching and estimated that no fewer than two hundred billable hours were being pissed away every week on such tasks. When she brought it up to Ivan, he simply nodded, then told her she’d lowballed some of the values she used for her calculations.
Realizing that much of her day job was pointless had been a bitter pill, though Tori was able to take great comfort in the knowledge that for her, thankfully, it was nothing more than the bland coating disguising her exciting true life. She wasn’t sure how the others in the office managed to cope with such a harsh reality, though the bloodshot eyes and obvious hangovers sported by many gave her a solid guess.
Donald seemed to find relief in video games, which had taken Tori all of half a day to figure out. Aside from the figurines he kept on his desk, Donald also liked to wax on at length about Legacy World, the MMO he spent great swaths of his free time playing. Adding in that he kept a handheld device to play during his lunch hour, which was actually a carefully-timed thirty-five minutes, and Donald couldn’t have been more obvious in his geekery unless he showed up to work dressed like his game avatar.
Strangely, Tori found she enjoyed working next to Donald in spite of his passion for games, or perhaps even because of it. Dealing with Ivan and the others in the guild could be tiring, and for the last several years, she’d been around no one but ruthless criminals and petty inventors, sometimes even people who fell into both categories. It was nice dealing with someone as straightforward as Donald. There was no hidden agenda or unseemly secrets; the man simply loved his games and was happy to share that with anyone who would talk to him.
Plus, it was nice chatting with someone who wasn’t entirely technologically incompetent. Donald certainly wouldn’t be able to keep up with her or Doctor Mechaniacal, but as he described his new computer setup over their Thursday morning coffee, Tori found herself somewhat impressed by the amount of technical acumen he’d put into creating it.
“Anyway, the last piece comes in tonight, and that’s the power supply. By the time I log in for my guild’s raid, I’m going to be sporting a system that no one short of a tech company can rival,” Donald boasted.
He took a sip from his coffee mug, and then quickly pulled it away from his mouth. Tori was keeping count, and in the time she’d been at the company, Donald had burned his tongue on his morning coffee no fewer than eight times. She drank from her own, unbothered by the degree of heat a mere recently-boiled liquid could impart. Even if it had been scalding, Tori would have barely noticed. She didn’t consider her powers to come with many perks, but being essentially fireproof was useful, especially for someone who tinkered about in a lab so much.
“Why do you need that much processing power? Any mid-range desktop can run Legacy World, no problem. Hell, they ported it to the new Indigo Gamesystem. If a console can handle it, your computer sure could.” Tori hadn’t actually played the game herself, but she’d done some light research in the interest of keeping conversations flowing with her cubemate. Tori had also looked up local gastro pubs, dog shows, and rare kinds of tea in order to fit in well with those she met in the office. Ivan had heartily approved.
Donald stared at her as though she’d just suggested he scrap all of his gear and start over as a level one character. “It’s not about just being able to run it; it’s about being the best. Every advantage you can get, every drop you manage to snag that bumps your stats, every bit of lag they have and you don’t, all of it is essential to becoming the strongest player on the server. There are people out there with higher levels and better gear than me, so while I level up the software part slowly, I’m also doing my best to keep ahead on hardware.”
In a strange way, Tori got what he meant. Being an inventor out on one’s own meant struggling against people with entire corporations working for them. The odds were stacked infinitely in their favor, so she’d had to grab on to every advantage she could. Donald had his over-clocked computer; she had a guild of semi-murderous villains.
“Wait, how are you not at max level yet? That game has been out for two years,” Tori said.
Donald blew on his coffee and took a tentative sip. This time, it didn’t cause him to wince in pain, so the burn count stayed at eight. “There was an expansion released this week. People who don’t have jobs got to play for days on end, but I’m stuck coming here, so I can only play for like twelve hours a day.”
Tori did some quick math and realized that after eight hours at the office, plus some time for driving, that meant Donald was only sleeping two to three hours a night. She marveled that he hadn’t slammed a coffee drip straight into his veins.
“But it’s not all bad,” Donald continued. “The raised levels and new dungeons came with a whole slew of new gear. My guild was so far behind the others in terms of top-tier equipment that we’d have never caught up. All the old stuff is pretty much useless now; it’s an even playing field as we all try and get the new top-of-the-line stuff.”
“You sound weirdly happy for someone who just had all of their previous hard work invalidated by a single expansion,” Tori pointed out.
“I guess I could see it that way, but I prefer to think of it as a new challenge. Besides, if I want a game I could just win and be done with, I’d play through one of the Blaster Brahs sequels again. MMOs are fun mostly because they always keep going.” Donald glanced down at the small digital watch on his wrist. Tori had thought it was a joke or ironic statement when she first caught sight of the black plastic band, but it seemed Donald ac
tually saw use in wearing a timepiece despite his cell phone being perfectly able to tell him the current time.
“Darn, we need to head back to our desk,” Donald said. “Break ends in three minutes.”
Tori sighed, but picked up her mug and rose from the small plastic table they’d been sitting at in the break room. If she and Donald weren’t checked back in at their computers by the time those three minutes were up, the scheduling software would peg them as being out of compliance with their timetables. Her fingers itched as she thought about how easy it would be to modify the programming so that she was no longer chained to a schedule, but she resisted. In a workplace full of computer people, someone had surely beaten her to the punch and no doubt the company had safeguards in place. Much as Tori believed she could get through them, that wouldn’t really be in the spirit of blending in. Instead, she took her coffee back to her desk and logged in like the good little intern she was.
“So, obviously, I’m spending my weekend testing the system and maxing out my level,” Donald said, plopping down in his chair next to her. “What are you going to do with yours?”
“Might go check out the town,” Tori said. In truth, she was either going to be by Ivan’s side dealing with the confluence or at a guild location beginning her next round of combat training. It all depended on how things went down. On the upside, at least either option seemed more exciting than another day of office drudgery.
* * *
“This is really short notice.”
The woman on the other end of the line was terse, which was to be expected, but it still made Ivan want to dig his hands into the side of his desk. He resisted, partially because such displays of power would raise far too many unnecessary eyebrows and partially because he was quite fond of his desk. He’d worked hard to rise high enough in the company to warrant a nice one.
“I recognize that, and I’ve already apologized. Believe me, the last thing I want to do is go without seeing them, but I’m afraid there’s no way for me to get out of this work event. I’m just asking to switch weekends. Please.”
Janet huffed on the other end of the phone, a sound he knew all too well was accompanied by a roll of the eyes and a soft toss of her dark hair. He felt for his ex-wife, truly he did. They had never been meant to be tied together in any lasting capacity. She’d been going through a bad boy phase; he was about as bad as they came. Once Rick was born and Ivan was freed from prison, they tried to make an honest go of it, which was how Beth came along. Even so, it became clear within a few years that they were only making each other miserable. Now she was connected to a man she had nothing in common with save for children they both loved and was burdened with keeping his secret from those same offspring. It wasn’t a fun position for anyone, let alone when the ex-husband in question was an internationally-known criminal.
“Fine,” she said at last. “Juan has been wanting to check out the museum’s new post-meta art exhibit, and it closes this weekend anyway. He’ll be glad we can bring the kids along. Just don’t make a habit out of this, okay?”
Ivan winced inwardly. That had, sadly, been the easy part of the conversation. Next came the real hurdle. “Actually... why don’t you and the kids—and Juan, of course—take a mini-vacation? There’s an amusement park that just opened outside New Denver. I went ahead and grabbed VIP passes for everyone. Go and have a fun time; think of it as my apology for the inconvenience.”
“Ivan, what are... oh hell.” Static and shuffling filled the phone as Janet relocated to somewhere he assumed was more private. When she spoke again, her voice was a hushed whisper. “Ivan, are you ditching your children for a... thing?”
“I am not ditching them, we’re trading weekends,” Ivan snapped. He knew better than to take her bait, but the insinuation that he was trying to be rid of his kids irked him. After a few deep breaths to calm down, he tried again. “Listen, Janet, I’m not sure what you think a ‘thing’ is, and I don’t feel like over the phone is a great place to talk about it. This is just an act of goodwill from me. Even if you don’t accept, I think it’s good for the kids to get away once in a while. See new towns, get some real life experience. Really, taking them anywhere outside Ridge City would probably be good for them this weekend.”
Janet’s silence stretched for several moments, and Ivan feared she was trying to build enough steam to protest his suggestion. Thankfully, when she finally spoke again, it was with a tone of acceptance, albeit a still hushed and whispered acceptance.
“Maybe that’s a good idea. Perhaps we should even take a long weekend, if needed.”
Ivan had little love in his heart for his ex-wife, but he was constantly thankful that she was smart and pragmatic. She might not know much about what he did with the guild these days, but Janet still trusted that when he said to get the kids out of town, it was for a good reason.
“I’d leave this afternoon, if you can. No one learns on a Friday, after all. As for coming back, they’ll probably have all the experience they need by Sunday evening. Just pay attention, I’m certain you’ll know if they need longer.”
“We’ll be sure to do that,” Janet said, her tone back at a normal conversational level.
Ivan hung up and let out a soft sigh of relief. He would have done whatever it took to get them out of town during a confluence. Meta-humans would be all over, many with powers they had no idea how to control. Even with the capes about trying to keep the peace, there would be some casualties. There always were. Between the needs of the guild and dealing with Tori, Ivan couldn’t secretly watch over his family like he had so many times before. Better to get them clear than see them hurt, or worse... turned into metas. The last thing Ivan wanted was for his children to get powers, an eventuality that would make them viable targets for the many enemies he’d racked up over the years. As humans they were safe, and Ivan aimed to keep them that way.
That tended to, he checked his schedule, a paper one that he had the perk of managing himself rather than having his time tracked by a computer. It was a light day in terms of meetings, which was actually unfortunate. Now that his family was safe, Ivan didn’t want to dwell on the other issue that lay heavily on his mind: namely, the risks of having an untested apprentice during a confluence.
The tall man rose from his desk and picked up an empty coffee mug. If the schedule refused to keep him busy, he’d just have to go check in on his employees. They were bound to have enough problems and excuses to at least help him stay mildly entertained.
* * *
“Wade, do you have a moment?”
Morgana stood outside Wade Wyatt’s metal and glass office, waiting patiently until he glanced up from the laptop he’d been diligently clacking away on. Officially, she worked for Indigo Technologies as a freelance associate consultant. This meant no one knew what exactly she did, but they also didn’t think anything of her stopping in to chat with the boss at odd hours. It was a job Wade offered to any of the guild’s councilors that he trusted, though only Morgana and Xelas had taken him up on it.
“Of course, Lynn. You know I always have time for you.” Wade felt a touch strange using her mundane name in any setting. This wasn’t the case with all guild members, but he felt that Morgana’s moniker fit the woman he’d spent years working alongside far better than something as simple as Lynn.
She walked in, firmly shutting the door behind her. Between the built-in anti-surveillance technology and the weekly-refreshed wards, there was scarcely a safer place in the world to speak without being overheard, so she wasted no time in broaching the subject at hand.
“I wanted to talk about Pseudonym’s apprentice. Specifically, whether or not she needs to stay at his side after what we’re expecting this weekend.”
“The council already voted in favor of letting him try to train her before we dismissed Tori as a lost cause,” Wade said. “In fact, it was a measure you voted in favor of. Why the sudden urge to dispose of her?”
Morgana shook her head quickly, eyes wi
dening as she realized how Wade had taken her words. “Nooooo. No no no. I don’t want you to kill her. Shit, Wade, why is that always where your mind goes?”
“I oversee a group of criminals and villains. Murder is the first proposed solution more often than not.” Wade gave a slight shrug by way of apology, then folded his hands on top of the massive desk (far bigger than Ivan’s middle-management one), closed his laptop, and assumed his “I’m listening” face.
“Look, I don’t want to kill her—in fact, I rather liked the girl. She’s smart, she’s got some guts, and she’s able to exercise at least a little self-control. My point was that after the confluence, we’re expecting to have at least a few new recruits to the guild once the dust settles. I know Tori didn’t take well to being trained on her own, but I think, in a classroom environment, she might thrive. Having others going through the same things as she is could be a boon, plus it might get a little competition brewing.”
“The last thing Tori Rivas needs is more incentive to excel,” Wade replied. “On top of an already impressive power, she’s strangely driven in regards to creating new technology. I suspect there’s a reason for it; however, so far my investigations into her past haven’t turned up anything compelling. At least, nothing connected to meta-suits.”
“Did you need a personal tragedy or driving force to build your first meta-suit?” Morgana asked.
“Certainly not. I was driven by scientific curiosity coupled with the desire to test the limits of what my brain could do. But I didn’t have the power to shift into fire. If I had, that would have doubtlessly become the subject of most of my study.”
