“So are you Canadian?” asked Cosmic Kid.
“No,” said Jules. “I’m American; Camille and I actually met here in West Pacific.”
“Jules is a musician,” offered Dr. Hodges.
“Really, that’s great - what kind of music?” Cosmic Kid sounded enthusiastic.
“Folk,” said Jules shortly.
“Wow, that’s like banjos and fiddles, right?”
Jules looked at Cosmic Kid for a long moment before responding. “Folk is surprisingly adaptive,” he finally said dryly. “The progressive folk movement is hardly limited to banjos and fiddles. You would be surprised by how many popular musicians have their roots in folk music.”
“Fantastic,” said Cosmic Kid, clearly struggling to connect. Camille sighed; Jules was always so uncomfortable, even defensive, around anyone connected to the team. It was no wonder that Matthew hadn’t thought their relationship would last.
“It must be good to be back in West Pacific then,” said Cosmic Kid, gamely pushing on.
“I suppose,” said Jules. “It’s our third move in as many years, so we’re getting good at it.”
“Why don’t you take Meghan to change?” Camille suggested. “The bathroom’s over there.” Jules shrugged and took his daughter’s hand. Camille wondered whether anyone else had noticed that he hadn’t kissed her hello.
“Intense guy,” commented Cosmic Kid to no one in particular. He started out to the patio and then stopped, looking thunderstruck. “I didn’t know that Emily was coming!” he said dumbly, staring out the window as Blue Star walked up accompanied by his granddaughter.
“Yes, she is,” said Dr. Hodges. “Have you already met her?”
“Emily? Yeah, we’ve talked a few times,” said Cosmic Kid, reddening slightly. “You know what - I’m going to the pool now.”
Dr. Hodges gave Camille a puzzled look and returned to the door. She followed along this time, curious to meet Emily herself; apparently, this was the girl whose disregard of Annie’s memo had led to the big fuss after the first team training exercise. From what Camille had gathered, Blue Star and Cosmic Kid had both been very upset over that and it appeared that the girl had made quite an impression on Cosmic Kid.
Emily turned out to be a big Industry fan. “It is SUCH an honor to meet you,” she gushed, shaking Dr. Hodges’ hand almost reverently. “Blue Star and I were just talking about how much you and the Institute have done for mutants. You were the focus for like a quarter of my mutant studies class last semester! I wrote my final paper on how the Institute revolutionized how young mutants are detected and treated in society.” She paused a moment and then looked at him hopefully. “I’ve just got to ask – what was Supersonic Cat like?”
Camille could see Matthew was taken aback. “Supersonic Cat was the archetypal West Coast hero,” she said quickly. What the hell did that even mean? She tried to imagine what Sarah would have said if she’d heard herself described as an “archetype” and shuddered at the thought. Dr. Hodges gave her a surprised look but Emily was eating it up.
“She was such a powerful super,” Emily said. “Supersonic speed, superior senses, incredible regenerative abilities. I’ve watched the tapes - amazing.”
“That she was,” said Camille, who felt like there was no way out but forward. “She was gifted with a powerful set of abilities and the drive to really master them. What a lot of people didn’t know until after her death was that she was also a gifted scientist in her own right. She was quite brilliant, but very private.”
“I wish I could have met her,” sighed Emily. “It was such a huge loss when she died.”
“Yes, it was,” Matthew said slowly.
“Come on now,” said Blue Star brusquely to his granddaughter. “I’m sure Matthew doesn’t want to stand around here revisiting the past. This is supposed to be a party, remember? Go entertain yourself or something.” He gestured at the pool and shook his head as she headed off with a stammered apology.
“Sorry about that,” Blue Star said when she had left. “Kids don’t think sometimes. How are you holding up, Matthew?”
Camille realized that Blue Star thought Matthew’s gloom related to the latest team deaths, not Sarah’s so many years ago, though she had a feeling that to Matthew it was all the same pain.
“It’s hard,” Matthew said wearily. “It’s always hard mustering the strength to rebuild again. I don’t know how many more times I can do this.”
Blue Star nodded. “You have to be a little bit of a masochist to stay in the Industry,” he said. “We’ll get the bastards who did this; we’re hot on their tails. It won’t be long now.”
“Is the team coming together, though?” Matthew sounded worried. “With all of these new personalities and Keystone still sitting out and Starfish only now recovering – it’s not a good start to the Season.”
“We’ve got a good team,” Blue Star reassured him, “though it’s going to take a real crisis to unify them, or at least expose the worst of the cracks.”
Camille frowned. “Didn’t we just have a real crisis?”
Blue Star scoffed. “That was a crisis for the hotel, not for the team. We need something big enough to actually challenge us but not big enough to put us all on Injured Reserve.”
“Or kill everyone,” Dr. Hodges observed. Blue Star looked startled and Camille threw him a look that said, welcome to my world.
“You need a drink,” said Blue Star, putting his arm around Dr. Hodges and steering him towards the kitchen. “So, is the whole team coming to this party?”
Camille opened the fridge and handed two beers to Blue Star, who popped the tops off in a practiced fluid motion. “Not all,” Dr. Hodges said with a frown as he took the bottle. “Keystone won’t come until his contract is signed and White Knight - well, there’s not much point in a power armor unit coming to a pool party, is there?” he asked rhetorically. “Everyone else should be coming, including all of the major staff - public relations, general counsel, operations… ”
“Speaking of operations…” began Blue Star in a menacing tone.
Dr. Hodges cut him off. “As I told you before, I’m not going to interfere with Annie’s methods. She’s been with the team almost since the beginning and she has good reasons for everything she does. I’m sorry if she comes across as unfeeling sometimes, but she knows what the team has to be prepared to handle and how short a time she has to get everyone up to that level. And if she thinks that secrecy is necessary, even from you, that’s her call to make. The hotel raid was a success and it might not have been if she hadn’t kept it so close to the vest.” It was a passionate delivery; Matthew wasn’t out of the game quite yet.
Blue Star made a face as if he’d swallowed glass, but he didn’t press the point. “What about Gabrielle?” he said. “Don’t you think she has a little too much on her plate?”
Dr. Hodges shook his head. “As long as everyone is doing their job, I try not to interfere. They’re all adults and micromanaging doesn’t make you any friends.”
“If I wanted friends, I wouldn’t have become team leader.” Blue Star snorted and downed half of his beer.
As the rest of the team trickled in, Camille decided that her party setup obligations were over. Now she just had to figure out what to do with Jules. He was sitting at the far end of the pool, throwing dive sticks for Meghan while looking disapprovingly at Matteo’s rambunctious twins. Going over there would be walking into a minefield and mean isolating herself from the rest of the team, who she was supposed to be bonding with anyway. She surveyed the patio. Blue Star and Matthew were moving towards deck chairs and trading war stories. Cosmic Kid appeared to be flirting with Emily, who had changed into a cute little two-piece. Over by the grill, Annie was producing perfect hotdogs and hamburgers with ruthless efficiency while Seawolf and Gabrielle ate and argued about something. She figured she might as well mingle a little before she went over to deal with her own family.
The debate apparently centered o
n the role of vigilantes in modern heroics.
“There is no place for vigilantes in the United States,” said Seawolf flatly. “Maybe they make sense in countries that don’t have the level of law enforcement or super team organization that we do, but there’s just no excuse for them here. If you can’t get on a team and you still want to fight crime, then join the Department of Super Affairs, or the military or something. If you can’t even do that, there’s something wrong with you - either inability or sociopathy.”
“You can’t seriously say that all vigilantes are either incapable or sociopaths!” Gabrielle said. “That’s ridiculous. A lot of vigilantes just want to maintain their privacy and independence.”
“Maintain their dirty secrets is more like it,” scoffed Seawolf. “There’s plenty of legal protections in place nowadays for secret identities. Maybe you could make that argument back in the ‘80s, but there’s no excuse for it anymore! The vast majority of vigilantes are either mutants who can’t cut it, mundanes with delusions of grandeur, or psychopaths like those hooded hit squads that call themselves Purifiers and go around executing criminals like firing squads. They give all the rest of us a bad name.”
Camille didn’t really give a rat’s ass one way or the other; she had worked with too many good vigilantes over the years to believe that they should be outlawed, but then again she’d also known some real wackos. However, listening to Seawolf pontificate about the righteousness of team supers got her annoyed. “Give me a break,” she said. “Like the public super community doesn’t have its share of dirty secrets and bad actors. Anyone care to remember when Magma Man turned out to be an Evolved Coalition agent? Or how about this year with the bathroom sex antics of Captain Pliable?”
Seawolf glared at her. “It was Magmanimous, not Magma Man.”
“Whatever.” Camille rolled her eyes. “It was a damn stupid name anyway. You’re avoiding my point.”
“I didn’t think it was worth addressing,” Seawolf snapped. “Just because a few supers turn supervillain or display bad judgment doesn’t mean that we should condone civilians to take the law into their own hands. The popularity of certain vigilantes has even encouraged kids to emulate their behavior and end up getting themselves injured or killed. It takes more than a Halloween costume or a hockey mask to fight crime.”
Camille stifled a laugh. “Oh come on. You can’t blame Cicada Man for that stupid kid who tried to climb the side of the Empire State building!”
“Hear, hear,” said Matteo, who was listening in from the hamburger line. “And what about all the kids who get crazy ideas from following team supers on the Super Channel?”
“There will always be stupid people,” said Seawolf dismissively. “The problem is when we legitimize those who dress up in order to put themselves and others in danger in pursuit of fame and glory.”
“Let us not forget that we have a former vigilante on the team,” said Matteo with a smile. “We should be a little more tolerant.”
“Good point!” said Camille. “You can’t paint them all with the same brush. A lot of people have been saved over the years by vigilantes. Cities depend on them to take care of the sort of mid-level crime that overworked police departments can’t take on and super teams don’t deign to deal with.”
“Then cities should increase funding for police forces,” said Seawolf stubbornly. “For the amount of money that gets sunk into super team publicity, no offense to anyone present, a city could double or triple the size of its police force.”
“Then they’d better increase the size of the bereavement funds,” retorted Gabrielle, “because supervillains mow through police like rockets through paper.”
“I think Matteo’s right,” said Camille. “With White Knight on the team, none of us should be badmouthing vigilantes.” She gave Seawolf a significant look.
Seawolf glared back. “I don’t have a problem with White Knight or any former vigilante. Unless elevating one to team member status encourages more people to take the law into their own hands.”
“That certainly wasn’t my intent when I suggested him for the position,” said Matteo. “White Knight has done a lot of good in West Pacific. And is still doing good, unlike some team members I might mention who would rather quibble over salary and perks than protect the city.”
Gabrielle gritted her teeth. “Don’t even get me started on Keystone,” she said in an angry tone.
“Yeah, what’s up with that guy anyway?” Camille asked. Truth be told, she was sort of hoping that some other team bought out Keystone’s contract. He had replaced her back in 2007 and that would be such poetic justice.
Gabrielle huffed. “He’s sitting out in his house, refusing to do anything until his contract’s renegotiated to his liking. He’s bound to crack eventually.”
“Don’t bet on it,” said Matteo. “His agent is really dug in to some pretty outrageous demands. I even went out to talk to him directly; he’s one obstinate mutant.”
“The original hardhead,” said Seawolf, dryly. “Literally in his case, of course.”
“But he has an amazing house,” continued Matteo appreciatively. “Have any of you been out there? He’s got this living room made out of glass with an entire wall of sloping windows that hang out over the ocean – it’s incredible.”
“Yes, the man is obsessed with his house,” said Seawolf. “I remember when he designed that room – he went through numerous architects who told him that it couldn’t be built. But he refused to listen and brought in some German genius I think to finish it.”
“Obstinate,” commented Matteo.
“Most supers are,” sighed Gabrielle.
“Speaking of supers,” said Seawolf with a genuine smile, “Starfish!”
Everyone turned to look at their recently injured teammate who was striding into the pool area with a slight limp. There was a general cheer and lots of clapping, and both Matthew and Blue Star went over to shake his hand. Seawolf and the rest of their group followed suit. Camille was discomforted to see how wide Starfish’s mouth became as he smiled at them, revealing two rows of perfectly even white teeth.
“Good to see you again,” she said with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. She’d seen him on the teleconference at the team meeting, but it had been hard to get a real impression of him. Now that he was in shorts and a Hawaiian shirt, she saw that his skin was covered with the same type of small bumps that she had seen on actual starfish and sea urchins. All of his facial features seemed too small for the size of his face. Some areas of skin on his face and arms were as smooth as melted plastic, probably injuries from the same explosion that had killed Awesome and Jason.
“Ah yes, the ever-lovely Camille,” Starfish said, taking her hand in his. Thousands of tiny tubular projections suckered onto her hand, causing a chill to run up her spine. “You’ve done such a wonderful job with my welcome-back party; I can’t thank you enough.”
“Right, ah, you’re welcome,” she said with a shudder, quickly retracting her hand. Next to her, Seawolf scowled. Go to hell, Camille thought. So what if pulling her hand back had been rude, it felt freaky. “Of course, Matthew, I mean Dr. Hodges, did most of the work,” she continued with an effort. “Anyway, it’s just great to see you back in fighting form.”
“Indeed,” said Starfish, who thankfully didn’t appear to have noticed her reaction. “Our first team meeting was certainly entertaining. And I must say that I am so looking forward to seeing you in action. You are one of the great legends of the West Pacific Supers you know. Seawolf has told me so much about you.”
I’ll bet she has, Camille thought grimly. “It’ll be great to work with you in the field.”
“Hopefully not long now before we get some real action,” Starfish said to her with another eerie smile, before turning to Cosmic Kid. The youngest West Pacific Super didn’t seem to be bothered at all by the suckery handshake they were sharing or the strange rows of eerily even teeth in Starfish’s smile. Well, good for him, Cam
ille thought. She should be getting some food for Jules and Meghan anyway and Meghan would be shriveled if she stayed in the pool much longer. They could eat and say goodbye and all drive home together. It had already been too long of a day.
Chapter 17
8:14 p.m., Thursday, April 25th, 2013
1300 Concordance Circle
West Pacific, CA
“So do you honestly think Dr. Wraith is on the roof or is this another psychotic training exercise by Dr. Loony Bin Sterling?” asked Cosmic Kid as he and Blue Star took the elevator up Concordance Tower B. The three Concordance Towers, of which B was the tallest, dominated West Pacific’s skyline, and were on almost all the postcards. It was nighttime now and the lights of the tower were striking.
“This isn’t a training exercise, but I don’t know if this is really Dr. Wraith,” said Blue Star quietly.
“I mean come on: Dr. Wraith is like a hundred years old and hasn’t been active in at least a decade, since that Statue of Liberty thing. He’s probably dead,” said Cosmic Kid.
“Maybe, but this could be a copycat, like recently in your hometown, and regardless a Goth techno-necromancer wannabe with a bunch of armed gunmen can’t be up to anything good,” said Blue Star.
“The Dynamic Solutions heist in Cosmopolis was a Dr. Wraith wannabe?”
“Supposedly, but he got killed. ID’d as an unemployed actor,” said Blue Star with an incredulous shake of his head.
“Could this be the same MO?” asked Cosmic Kid.
“Very likely. Or it could be related to the breakout of that invulnerable mutant we captured at the Grand Colonial Hotel the other week, though that was probably Infinite Circle and corrupt cops.”
“So what’s the angle here?”
“Either a heist, terrorism, or a publicity stunt,” said Blue Star with a shrug. “It’s always the same. The bad guys always want to steal something, cause mayhem, or get their 19 minutes of fame.”
West Pacific Supers: Rising Tide Page 21
