Forging Hephaestus (Villains' Code Book 1)

by Drew Hayes

  She reached over and picked up the final piece from her work table, a black metal helmet with red lenses covering the eyes. Slipping it on was an ordeal, only possible because she’d knotted her long hair into a tight braid. Finally, she heard the telltale click and hiss as it joined to the suit’s neck. Tori looked in the mirror again, the last traces of her civilian identity now concealed. She cycled through the camera’s enhanced modes, checking the night and thermal vision first then making sure the zoom functioned as well. Everything was working. One last shift to fire-form confirmed that the digital display would hold up, at least so long as she didn’t crank up the temperature too much.

  Tori marveled at the person in the mirror for a bit longer, amazed at how completely she’d disappeared in her own device. There was no shred of Tori remaining, neither the apprentice nor the thief nor the intern with a secret. This was someone completely new, a version of herself that had only lived in the shadows of her mind until she donned her helmet for the first time.

  “Hephaestus.” Her voice was purposely warped by the helmet’s circuitry, made harsh and deep but still easy to understand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” It was, too. It truly, honestly was. “The guild is expecting great things from you. And I’m expecting so much more.”

  A knock came from the door to the basement, her sensors easily picking it up and identifying the origin. “Tori,” Ivan called down from above. “It’s almost time.”

  Hesitantly, Tori reached up and removed the helmet from her face. The rest could be covered with a large enough coat, and if they entered the car inside the garage, no one would see her strange boots. But she couldn’t very well ride around in Ivan’s car with her helmet on, no matter how much she disliked having to take it off.

  “I’ll be up in a few seconds,” Tori yelled. She looked down at the helmet in her hands, at the face of Hephaestus, and smiled. “Soon. Just not quite yet. We have to get to the guild first. As soon as we do, I’ll introduce you to everyone. It should make for quite an entertaining start to the night.”

  Chapter 63

  Beverly hadn’t exactly thought Tori was overstating her abilities after watching her cobble together a sonic cannon in the middle of the desert, but she did find it hard believe a fellow apprentice could make a functioning meta-suit with nothing more than an intern’s salary, some supplies on a tab, and a few extra grand. Most people weren’t that gifted, it was true; but Beverly had failed to account for Tori’s resourcefulness and years spent getting by with only what she could salvage or steal.

  She let out a gasp of shock as her friend walked into the familiar lounge where they’d done so much planning, clad in metal and tech everywhere but on her head. And even that was temporary, if the helmet under her left arm was any indication.

  “Well, great, way to make me feel under-dressed, asshole,” she quipped. Beverly’s own costume was the same as Lance and Warren’s, the default one she’d been given as an apprentice. Only Lance had added an accessory, a large plastic tube slung across his chest that served for function, not fashion.

  “You had two days, you could have sewn something together,” Tori suggested.

  “Screw that. I was catching up on the sleep I missed over the weekend.” She walked around Tori slowly, taking in all the strange switches and mechanisms built into the suit. Across the room, Lance and Warren were heading over to do the same, clearly marveling at the technological wonder she’d walked into their lounge.

  “Why is the helmet off?” Lance asked. “And how can you operate the suit without it on? Don’t you control these things with your brain?”

  “Some suits work that way, but I had to go a different route,” Tori replied. “And the helmet is off because we’d barely gotten in the front door when we ran into Arcanicus, who nearly hexed me. Pseudonym suggested I keep my familiar face exposed, at least until we were out on the job.”

  “Probably a smart call,” Beverly agreed. “So, does all this stuff really work?”

  “Not everything, and not perfectly, but the gear we’ll be counting on has been checked up, down, and sideways,” Tori assured her. “And if it all goes to hell, I’ve got my apprentice costume on under here, so I can throw on the mask and still pitch in.”

  “At least we’d be a matching set.” Warren looked down at his own outfit with a weary sigh. “Does the guild provide tailors? I never gave much thought to a costume before, but if I have to pull a job, I think I’d prefer something a little more... me.”

  “Pretty sure the guild has everything,” Lance replied. “Long as you’ve got the cash for it.”

  Warren stared at his outfit for a bit longer then raised his head. “I guess this will do for a while.”

  “Or you can put your share of the money toward some nice duds.” Tori worked very hard to hide her relief at discovering she wasn’t the only one who hadn’t realized their job came with a payday. “I mean, even after the guild cut, we’re each taking home over a hundred thousand dollars. Unless you want an outfit made of diamonds, I bet you’ll be good.”

  All three of her fellow apprentices stopped looking at the suit and turned their attention to the woman within. As quickly and humbly as she could manage, Tori told them that whatever they brought in that night would be theirs to keep and split per guild rules. While Lance and Warren took the news like they’d just won the lottery—which, monetarily speaking, they might as well have—Beverly narrowed her eyes and make a “tsk” sound between her tongue and teeth.

  “Those crafty bastards. It’s just one trap after another with them, isn’t it?”

  “Um, Beverly, we were just told we get to keep the money,” Lance said. “How is that anything but great news?”

  “Because it’s meant to get us in trouble. Think about it. We get to keep all the money we score, right?”

  Tori nodded. “That’s what Pseudonym told me, and since he’s on the council, I’d say that’s as close to gospel as we’re going to get around here.”

  “So, we know we have to bring back a minimum of five hundred grand,” Beverly said, spinning in place so that she could look at Lance and Warren. “That’s what we planned for. We picked the exhibits that we knew would have the best ratio of low security to high yield. We even chose several backups in case something went wrong with those. Right now, the four of us have a good plan to get in and out of the Dash City Museum with just over half a million dollars. But now, that number isn’t just an arbitrary goal. It’s a payday. It’s what we’ll split once we get home.”

  “All of which sounds pretty good,” Warren pointed out.

  “Exactly,” Beverly agreed, giving a nod so forceful it sent a few strands of hair flying. “It sounds so good that once we’re in the museum, we might decide to up our take a little more. Maybe grab a few more exhibits, ones we weren’t going to risk grabbing before. When that goal isn’t arbitrary, suddenly restraint seems less important. After all, getting in and out are the hard parts, and that’s covered. We get greedy, we stretch ourselves thin, and we go off the plan. And that’s when we make a mistake.”

  It sounded like the ravings of someone with severe paranoia... except that the more they all thought about it, the more sense Beverly’s take on things made. As soon as the money had become real, the entire mission had taken on a whole different feeling. Once they were actually there with priceless objects in arm’s reach, how tempting would it be to up their haul, just by a few thousand here and there?

  “It’s not a trap,” Tori said, breaking the silence that had fallen at the end of Beverly’s rant. “I mean, it is, but it’s not really. It’s part of the test. This is supposed to see how we would act as guild members, right?”

  “That’s what they told us,” Lance agreed.

  “Then this is something they’d definitely need to check. When the money is real, when we’ve got genuine temptation in front of us, can we make the smart decisions instead of the greedy ones?” Tori smacked one metal-gauntlet-covered hand into the other, res
ulting in a clang that made even Warren jump. “That’s an issue that will come up on every single job we pull. They’d be idiots not to have some aspect of it in our exam.”

  “Meaning it’s not dickish. That’s nice of them,” Lance said.

  “No, it’s still a bit dickish, I’m only saying it has a purpose,” Tori told him. “Something we didn’t even consider was being tested without us realizing it. And if there’s one element like that, there are bound to be more.”

  “Just what are you getting at?” Warren asked.

  “She’s saying that we treat this job like the real thing, and we stick to the plan the council approved no matter what.” Beverly had calmed down a bit after Tori’s explanation, though she still wore a wary expression as her eyes darted about the room. “We put stealth and safety above all else, we stick to the targets we know how to get, and we prioritize escaping without leaving evidence of a ruckus.”

  “And when things inevitably go awry?” Lance asked. He noticed some skepticism in their faces and crossed his arms. “What? Given the points Tori and Beverly just made, there’s no way they’ll let us have a clean and easy trial. Sooner or later, something will go wrong, even if they have to make it happen, just to see how we handle ourselves when the shit hits the fan.”

  “Damn it... Lance is probably right,” Tori agreed. “We can’t really plan for that, either. Just don’t panic, first off, and make sure we communicate and work together. But if ever you’re in doubt, just try and figure out something that sticks to the guild’s code. If you aren’t breaking that, then anything you do has a good shot at being okay.”

  “And what if we can’t help breaking the code?” Warren asked.

  Tori considered the question carefully. There was only one answer no matter how she looked at it. “Breaking the code is one of the only real crimes you can commit inside this guild. That alone is bad enough, but breaking it during a test to see if you’re responsible and smart enough to function as a guild member... we all watched what happened last Monday. You might as well kill yourself and save them the trouble.”

  * * *

  “Nervous?” Thuggernaut took the open chair next to Ivan, who was dressed in his bland Pseudonym costume. Around them, the other mentors and members of the council milled about. Others were already seated as they waited for the large display in front of them to crackle to life. This wasn’t like the other lessons or tests where they were free to observe in whatever manner suited them best. Tonight the membership of four applicants would be determined, which meant the council had to watch it together and render an official verdict. The only other people allowed to be present were the apprentices’ mentors, called in to ensure they weren’t tempted to intervene.

  “I’d rather not kill my student.” Ivan wasn’t sure how it was for the others, if they’d be handed the duty of dealing with their apprentice’s failures or if it would be pawned off on someone else to handle. Tori, however, would die by no other hand but his own. Even if no one else demanded it, even if he weren’t one of the few that could kill living fire, he would still insist upon it. As her teacher, he owed her at least that much.

  “We did all we could, taught them as well as they’d learn,” Thuggernaut replied. “From here on out, it’s all up to them.”

  “If that were true, I’d feel much easier.” Ivan’s eyes drifted across the room to Wade, who was wearing every bit of his own meta-suit except the helmet. It was sleek and dynamic, billions of dollars above the makeshift one Tori had assembled under Ivan’s house. As the guild’s leader, Wade never let an entrance test pass without throwing a curveball or two. It was a sound policy that Ivan agreed with in principle—seeing how one reacted under pressure was equally important to seeing how well they could craft a plan. But that was in principle. Now that Ivan had a student of his own about to be thrust into chaos, he found himself wondering just how necessary that policy really was.

  “I’ve been here a long time, and I’ve seen more guild applicants come through than I’d have cared to.” Thuggernaut gazed at the still-empty screen as if he could get a sneak peek of what was to come just by staring hard enough. “Nothing in this world is certain, but our kids have a shot. A good one at that. And they’ve already learned to work together, which gives them a big leg up.”

  “It’s possible,” Ivan said. “But there’s another way to look at it. Because they have already figured out the importance of acting as a cohesive unit, Doctor Mechaniacal will factor that in and increase the difficulty of his unexpected variables proportionally.”

  Thuggernaut’s wide face drooped, and a few shades of color left his skin. “You’re saying...”

  Ivan nodded grimly. “I’m saying that them being so exceptional may ultimately end up getting them a much more difficult, and possibly deadly, test.”

  * * *

  Tori had expected Doctor Mechaniacal, or Ivan, or someone like Stasis or Xelas to be waiting for them as they entered Sanctum. Someone to give them last-minute reminders or a word of encouragement before their trial began. Instead, the only people behind the large door were Tunnel Vision, standing silently until it was time to fulfill the duty they’d been contracted for. Only when she saw the nearly empty room did it truly hit home: they were on their own. From this point forward, all they had was themselves, the resources they’d bought, and the plans they’d made. No one was going to be nearby if they needed help. Even Tunnel Vision’s services came with the caveat that they wouldn’t open a portal if it might compromise guild security.

  “We have to go to the teleportation chambers,” the female half of Tunnel Vision said. “Except for there, everything in Sanctum is secured from spatial anomalies.”

  That was all she said before she and her male counterpart both turned and moved for a door, not even bothering to see if the others were keeping up. Tori and the other apprentices hurried along, following Tunnel Vision through a series of winding hallways and passing through several well-secured doors before arriving in a room so big Tori suspected it could have easily housed a small jet.

  “The security system in here is separate, so we can temporarily disable it,” the male member of Tunnel Vision explained. “We will do so now, to send you out. When your job is complete, contact us using the communication devices provided and we will open another portal, assuming we can do so securely.” As he spoke, the woman removed several small electronics from a bag at her side and passed them out. Each was small, barely bigger than a jump drive, with a single button set in the center. Curiously, there was no uniformity to them, as if they’d been made by four entirely different people. As Tori accepted hers and tucked it into a hidden compartment on her suit’s torso, she realized that they were built that way as camouflage. If they all looked different, it would be hard to link them to a central provider should they be lost.

  “All you have to do is press the button,” the man continued. “Don’t worry if it happens by accident; we’ll check what’s happening before opening the portal. Even so, try not to let that happen. The moment you intentionally call us to the time the portal opens should last no longer than ten seconds. Try to stay together, and, as you should know, portals will only be opened in secure locations. You no doubt are aware from your research that the interior of the museum is too well-surveilled to count as such a location. Do you have any questions?”

  Tori looked at the others, who were in turn looking at each other, all waiting to see if anyone had something to ask. When it became clear there was nothing left to be said, she lifted the helmet from under her arm and slowly lowered it past her face. This time was easier; it took only a few moments before the telltale hiss and click told her that the last piece of her suit was in place.

  “Looks like it’s time to start,” Tori said, taking a few people by surprise with her altered voice. “Remember, stick to the plan if at all possible, and the code above all else. Also, from here on, villain names only until we’re back inside the guild. Let’s get this done quickly and saf
ely.”

  She turned her head to the pair of people waiting for orders and gave a small nod, barely perceptible through all the armor and tech surrounding her.

  “Tunnel Vision, open it up. It’s time to go to work.”

  Chapter 64

  The Dash City Museum sat in what had once been the heart of the city’s downtown district. However, zoning and cheaper properties had slowly migrated most of the offices, restaurants, and shops farther south, leaving the formerly thriving area designated as a “historic district.” On top of getting less foot traffic, the buildings around the museum were not always in use. In fact, some had sat vacant for over a year.

  A small structure, more shack than building, which had once housed a company that sold big scoops of ice cream on thick waffle cones, sat unassuming until a hole in space appeared and four figures stepped over from a secured building a half-dozen states away. As quickly as it had appeared, the portal vanished, leaving them alone inside the cramped shack, staring out across a small section of parking lot at their target.

  “First things first, we need eyes on everything,” Hephaestus announced. “Pest Control, that’s you. After that, we need to get control of their exterior cameras and alarms. Glyph, you know what to do.” Reaching into a compartment on her belt, Hephaestus pulled out a device that had started its life as a Walkman. She handed it to Glyph, whose right-hand fingers had already begun to glow as he traced a symbol on his left forearm. No more drawing in sand, it seemed. Whatever Hephaestus thought about Balaam, his tutelage was clearly paying off.

  Her eyes carefully traced Glyph’s movements as he constructed the symbol. Technically, putting the device in place would have been easier for Hephaestus, but Glyph had another job to do when he got close to the building and he could only power so many runes at a time.

  Pest Control, meanwhile, had summoned dozens of flies, which were streaming one by one out of the shack on their way toward the museum. His eyes were closed as he saw through their fractured vision, a feat which was almost as impressive as summoning the creatures in the first place.