West Pacific Supers: Rising Tide

by Johnson-Weider, K. M.

  The door open, and Camille jerked up, planting a smile on her face that faded a bit when she saw who it was. “Oh, hi Blue Star,” she said. “Have trouble finding the place?”

  “No, but sorry I’m late. I had an interview this morning with Superlatives magazine and it went over a little.”

  “You weren’t flirting with the reporter were you?” Camille asked.

  “God no, he was, well, a he,” said Blue Star with a disappointed tone. “Gabrielle has me on this new PR regime. I have to count to 10 before I answer any questions. It really slows things down, but it does stop me from making off-the-cuff remarks that I regret later.”

  “Sounds like a good policy. You’d better not go making off-the-cuff remarks in front of the kids - it could give the wrong impression.”

  “True,” he said, taking a seat on a stool next to her. “I imagine this place is going to be crawling with reporters waiting to see the two of us together. Where are the kids anyway?”

  “The first group should be arriving in about 20 minutes, but Mrs. Parkins wanted us to wait in here until she got things set up. Otherwise, the kids would see us and it would be total chaos - even more than there will be already. You missed the tour, but it wasn’t anything too earth-shattering. Basically, just be prepared to deal with lots and lots of kids. And you’re probably right about the reporters. There are already a couple wandering around the place.” As if she didn’t feel bad enough without having some freak with a camera following her around; if some superazzi lit into her in her current mindset, she’d probably end up killing him.

  “Great, kids and reporters,” said Blue Star, who looked almost as tired as she felt. “Fantastic combination. I haven’t dealt with little kids in a long time – even my grandkids are past that stage. At least you’ve got recent field experience. Where is your daughter anyway? Weren’t you going to bring her?”

  His innocent comment was too much to bear. The tears that she had been holding back ever since Jules told her he needed to take a break, flooded out. Blue Star looked stunned. “What’s wrong? Is Meghan okay?”

  “She’s…she’s fine, sorry…” Camille tried to give a reassuring smile, but there was no reassurement left in her anymore and the attempt failed miserably.

  “What’s going on? Actually - hold on.” Blue Star jumped up to grab a roll of paper towels that was sitting on the counter. He tore one off and thrust it at her. She took it with a grateful nod and blew her nose.

  “I’m sorry, I just don’t think I can…I can’t do this right now,” she told him. She felt like she just wanted to crawl into a hole somewhere and die.

  “Can’t do what - the carnival? What’s happened, Camille?”

  “Meghan’s fine,” Camille repeated, her tears starting up again. “She’s with her dad… he’s taking her to her grandparents for a while - they… ” She blew her nose again. “They have a place on Lake Michigan.”

  “That sounds great,” said Blue Star, clearly unsure where to go with that bit of information. “But it’s not, is it?” he said, looking at her closely. “This was - oh hell, it’s the press thing, isn’t it?”

  She nodded, her eyes welling up with tears. “Jules…” she couldn’t say it.

  “He left you? Son of a bitch!” Blue Star ran his hand through his hair. “This whole situation is my fault; if I had listened to Gabrielle in the first place and controlled my temper, or maybe if I’d talked to Jules…Damn, I don’t know what to say.”

  She nodded and shrugged her shoulders. “Nothing to say. It’s not your fault, Blue Star. It’s just the way it is. I shouldn’t be…it’s just that they only left this morning…I don’t… I’m sorry.”

  “No!” he yelled. “Don’t apologize – believe me, I know what you’re going through. Have things been bad for a while between you?”

  Camille shrugged. “I guess so - there’s been so many little things…” She dabbed her eyes with the paper towel. “Actually, I guess they were all kind of big things, really. The hours, the danger, leaving West Pacific, me almost dying in Chicago, moving to Canada, coming back to West Pacific - our whole marriage has been drama…And I’m always the one causing it.” She put her head in her hands.

  “Well, you’re a superhero, damn it,” said Blue Star. “Drama sort of comes with the territory. He knew what he was getting into when he married you.”

  She gave him a stricken look.

  “Oh shit, Camille - you didn’t tell him?”

  “Not until we were already engaged,” she sobbed. “I was afraid that…if he knew I was a mutant… ” She couldn’t finish the sentence. Blue Star took the opportunity to tear off another paper towel, then seemed to reconsider and simply handed her the whole roll.

  “Okay, let’s really look at this thing,” he said to her. “Has he filed for divorce?”

  She shook her head.

  “Good. Did he leave any clothes in the closet when he left?”

  She nodded.

  Blue Star smiled knowingly. “He’s coming back. He’s just taking a little time to sort things out - he’s not leaving you.”

  “Yet,” she said quietly.

  “Maybe, but that gives you time,” he said. “You don’t give up when you’re battling supervillains, and this is even more important to you than that, right?”

  “What if he doesn’t want to come back?” she cried, finally voicing the question that had been eating away at her.

  “Of course he wants to come back,” Blue Star said dismissively. “He’s just freaked out right now. The superazzi can do that to people.”

  She nodded. It had been far worse than even Gabrielle had suggested. The day after the story broke, she went with Jules to pick up Meghan from school and the superazzi had staked out the parking lot. They yelled the most horrible things: Camille, how long have you been dating Blue Star? Have you had any other super affairs? Hey buddy, do you forgive her? Is it true that the kid is really Meltdown’s? That one had stung and she shuddered to remember it. The team had sent people after that - a bodyguard and a driver with a car - but the damage had been done. The real low point was trying to explain to Meghan what was going on.

  “Look,” Blue Star was saying. “Maybe you didn’t tell him you were a mutant right away, but you did tell him. And he still married you. And had a child with you. And you’ve been together for what, seven, eight years?”

  “Almost ten,” she said.

  “Ten years now. You’ve made it an entire decade – that’s an accomplishment. This is not a man who’s looking for the easy way out, Camille. He’s in it for the long haul.”

  “Yeah, I know he loves me but… .” She had started crying again. “He said he doesn’t know if he can trust me!” She couldn’t believe how much that still hurt. She also couldn’t believe she was sitting in a community center kitchen spilling her guts to Blue Star of all people. The man had more failed relationships than anyone on the team. Maybe that made it easier.

  “Yeah, that’s a big one,” agreed Blue Star. “But this is…” He was interrupted by a knock at the door. Camille’s heart sank. Mrs. Parkins - the carnival…She gave Blue Star a pleading look.

  “Relax, I can handle this,” he said with a forced smile, standing up and sliding out the door, which he quickly closed behind him. “You must be Mrs. Parkins,” she could hear him saying. “Yes, I am Blue Star, WPS team leader. No, Camille will not be joining us - unfortunately I need her to coordinate an operation for me this morning. No, I can’t tell you any more but don’t worry, we won’t be shorthanded. I’m calling in White Knight - yes, that’s right - the famous robot vigilante. Actually, he’s a power armor pilot and a full team member now, but you’ve got the concept. Now if you could just give me a minute to make sure that Camille has everything she needs… Actually, I’m afraid that we’ve had to commandeer the kitchen; it is officially off-limits for the duration of the current crisis…No, the center is in no danger at all. Yes, just one minute and I’ll be back.”

  He
slipped back into the kitchen and smiled at Camille.

  “My hero,” she said with a weak smile. “I am so sorry - I’ve never ducked out of a publicity event before.”

  “I’ve ducked out of plenty, plus I owe you. This is why we have teams, remember? Just a minute – I’ve got to get White Knight down here.” Blue Star pulled out his HoloBerry and clenched his teeth as if in anticipation of an argument. Camille was surprised at how good it felt to let him take care of all this.

  Blue Star pressed one of the pre-set numbers and waited. “Gabrielle, it’s Blue Star. Listen, I need you to get White Knight down here ASAP. Yes, I’m at the carnival. Camille isn’t feeling well and I need backup.” He paused to listen and frowned at Gabrielle’s response. “No, I don’t want Cosmic Kid. I already told the people here that White Knight is coming…Listen, I don’t give a damn what you’re doing! Reschedule whatever meeting you’re in, strap on the suit, and get down here now!” He slammed the HoloBerry off and grimaced at Camille. “I thought I’d known workaholics before, and then I met Gabrielle.”

  He sat back down on the stool and faced her. “Listen, you need to make a decision about what you want, never mind Jules or Meghan, or anyone else. When things get complicated like this, when people start feeling hurt and angry, it’s always easiest to just walk away. Fighting that, sticking with the relationship and making things work – that’s the hard part. Believe me, I know. I’m a pro at walking away.”

  “But I don’t want to walk away!” Camille cried. “I just want things to be the way they were!”

  Blue Star shook his head. “Things change – in life, in marriage, on teams. You can’t have things the way they were. Plus the way things were wasn’t working, or you wouldn’t be sitting here while he’s in Michigan.”

  “Then what do I do?”

  Blue Star shrugged. “I’m not the one you need to be asking. Look, when was the last time you and Jules talked something out and you let him make the final decision – about something big, something that affected both of you?”

  Camille frowned as she considered the question. She’d made the decision to come back to West Pacific without even asking him, but that was because it all happened so quickly. Then again, the move to Chicago had been the same way…The decision to have Meghan had been a joint one - though come to think of it, he had been a little worried about starting a family so soon and she’d sort of talked him into it. The houses they had lived in she had always picked, but that was because she was the one with the higher salary, though of course he spent far more time at home than she ever did… She looked up guiltily. “I guess I’m kind of controlling,” she admitted.

  “Of course you are,” said Blue Star. “You’re a superhero. You’ve led teams responsible for defeating supervillains that could destroy a city – and you’ve won. Do that enough and the decision-making part gets easy. Control is what keeps you alive in the field. But it’ll kill relationships like you wouldn’t believe.” He frowned. “The press stuff, the rumors, that’s hard, but you don’t start really worrying that someone’s cheating on you unless you think they don’t need you anymore. Relationships are give and take. You probably think you’re making things easier on Jules by taking care of everything, but take it from me, you’ve got to give up some of that control for him to trust you again.”

  “Have you ever been able to do that?”

  Blue Star laughed. “I’ve never had a marriage last a decade; you’re the one who should be giving me advice. If he’s been with you this long, he’s just looking for a reason to stay with you now. And look at yourself, Camille! You’re gorgeous, intelligent, got a good sense of humor – and the two of you have a kid together. He’d be an idiot to leave you. Show him that you need him, show a little vulnerability for a change. Anyway, I’ve got to get out there and entertain small people. Are you going to be okay?”

  “Yes, I think I am,” she told him. “Thank you. That was actually really helpful.”

  He grimaced. “Well, those who can, stay married. Those who can’t, tell other people how to.”

  Chapter 35

  7:00 p.m., Tuesday, July 16th, 2013

  100 Lighthouse Road

  West Pacific, CA

  When Seawolf’s doorbell rang at 7 p.m. on a Tuesday night, she groaned. It was either tourists who had blithely ignored all of the “Private Property” signs posted on the causeway, or another representative of that damn historical preservation society trying to convince her to allow public tours of the island. Like she was ever going to let them turn her house into a museum while she was still living in it! If they were so set on the property having public access, they should have bought the damn place themselves and spent millions of dollars and over a decade laboring to restore it.

  Muttering to herself angrily, she flung the door open - and saw Paul. She stared blankly at him for a moment.

  “Hi!” he said. He was holding a long tube, the type used to carry maps, and he smelled sweaty. Perhaps he had just gotten off duty.

  “Hello.” She didn’t move from the door.

  “Oh. Well, I thought I could stop by and you know, show you how the search has been going.”

  Seawolf regarded him warily. It seemed an unlikely reason for him to be here, but no one else was talking to her and she was desperate to find out how the investigation was proceeding in her absence. She nodded and stepped aside to let him in.

  Paul walked in, looking around with interest. “This is amazing! I’ve never been out here. How old is this place?”

  “It varies,” she said, locking the door and following him. “The original lighthouse was completed about 1856, but it was pretty much destroyed in 1973 when the Vanghel leveled the city. There was a New Tomorrow Program grant to rebuild the lighthouse, but construction was never actually finished due to an architectural dispute. I’ve been restoring it over the last decade. I got my PATON permit back in 2005.”

  “So this part here dates from the mid-1800s? Wow. It must have survived the 1964 tsunami then?”

  Seawolf nodded. “Apparently they had quite a view of the tidal wave hitting the city.”

  Paul peered through the doorway to the tower. “Would you mind taking me up?”

  “Okay,” she said after a moment’s hesitation. She hated the idea of strangers traipsing through her house, but Paul wasn’t quite a stranger and seemed to have a genuine appreciation for the lighthouse, which was, after all, her great passion. She led the way.

  “You know there aren’t a lot of these original structures left anymore,” he commented as he followed her up the stairs that led to the light. “So many of them were torn down or abandoned when they put up modern navigational buoys. This reminds me of Point Reyes down near San Francisco, though you have the keeper’s dwelling attached to the tower. It gives you a nice bit of living space.”

  “It does,” she said, pleased that he actually knew something about the topic. “Actually, the architect modeled the light tower here on Point Reyes, though this one is higher. The city wanted a more modern, post-Invasion design to fit the look of the new rebuilding plan, but the architect believed it was important to maintain historical continuity. He got the keeper’s quarters rebuilt and the tower mostly finished before the grant ran out. I had it finished to the original plans.”

  “Really impressive. I can’t even imagine how much work you’ve put into it.”

  “Thanks,” she said with a note of pride. “It has been a lot of work, but it’s worth it though. Look.” They had reached the top and saw the Pacific Ocean stretching out before them on one side and on the other, the lights of West Pacific, bright against the darkening sky. This was her favorite part of living here.

  “What a view!” Paul exclaimed. “It’s stunning! You get quite a storm spray out here, don’t you?”

  “Definitely. The island used to be only accessible at low tide, but I had the causeway raised. Even so, if the weather is bad enough, the road is impassable. You should have seen it after th
e tsunami,” she added with a frown. “I had to have it partially rebuilt because so much of the fill washed away.”

  “It’s gorgeous though. Once you have a place like this, you’d never want to leave.”

  “No, I never do,” Seawolf said. It was wonderful to have someone to enjoy the view with, but she also was starting to feel confined, as if her private sanctuary were being invaded. She glanced over at Paul and saw he was smiling at her. She had a sudden ridiculous thought that he was about to kiss her. “We should go back,” she said abruptly, starting down the stairs. Her heart was still pounding when they reached the bottom.

  “You wanted to show me something?” she asked.

  “Ah, right. Do you have someplace I can lay these out?”

  She led him into the dining room where he unrolled several maritime charts and pointed out where they had been running patrols. “There haven’t been any more confirmed attacks, though we recovered another boat down here and Starfish is looking into that. What I’ve marked in yellow are the areas Starfish has given us to cover. He has Camille doing flybys of these areas.” He pointed to some coastal stretches.

  “Has Camille been in the meetings?” she asked quickly.

  He shook his head. “We haven’t had meetings. Starfish just lets us know where he wants us to go.”

  That was good. For some reason she didn’t like the idea of Paul and Camille being in the same room together. Paul seemed to be rambling now and she could smell that he had started to sweat again, which was usually a sign of nervousness. She was curious about what he was up to so she humored him. Eventually, as they were both leaning over a chart, he asked, “How would you like to go out for dinner Thursday night?” He sounded like someone trying very hard to sound casual.