by Drew Hayes
“Then forget it,” Owen replied. “If no team wants me then I’ll go solo after all. Let me be a story. Let everyone call me an outcast and a failure. Better that than chaperoning a bunch of corpies.”
“That is your prerogative,” Lenny said, his temper cooling as he lowered himself back into his seat. “You have the right to go at this alone. But if you do, then you’re doing it completely alone.”
A pang of uncertainty smacked Owen in the gut. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that if you go solo, I’m out. I’ll finish the paperwork to make you official again, and that’s it.”
“What the hell, Lenny? Suddenly it’s my way or the highway? What ever happened to finding what works best for the Hero?” Owen resisted the urge to jump out of his own seat, only because he was afraid he might crack the floor.
Lenny didn’t yell back this time. Instead, he took an antacid from his desk drawer and dropped it into a glass of water with a fizzy plop.
“I am thinking about what’s best for you. We worked together for a long time, back in the day. I know you, and that’s why I’m telling you that you need a team. The family man image we sold you as worked because you are a family man. You need people around who depend on you. They give you strength. They are what push you past your hardest moments. Last time you went off on your own, your funk lasted over a decade and didn’t break until your sons called you a fucker. You need a team, Titan. Without one, it’s just a matter of time until it all becomes too much and you fall apart again. And I’m not hanging around for it this time.”
Owen felt his indignation morph in to shame. He’d been calling Lenny a quitter when he was the one who’d walked away. Lenny was doing what he did for all his clients: just trying to make sure they were put in the best position to stay happy and employed. He was watching out for Owen, even after Owen had nearly cost Lenny his reputation all that time ago.
Owen reached across and picked back up the folder. “Are they expecting me?”
“You report for duty at nine tomorrow morning,” Lenny informed him.
“Seems late.”
“They have a photo shoot at seven.”
Owen resisted the urge to groan, but only barely.
2.
Owen stared up at the building, admiring the way it jutted into the sky as though it were trying to spear clouds. On days with the right weather, it probably succeeded. He adjusted the duffel bag on his shoulder more out of nerves than necessity. Even as fully as it was packed, the bag was nowhere near heavy enough to actually cause him discomfort. Most of his possessions had been stored back at his place in Colorado, though some had been sent ahead to this building via courier. The things in the bag he never trusted to anyone else. They were too important to be risked.
“Titan?”
The voice snapped Owen out of his marveling and brought him back to reality. He wasn’t dressed as Titan currently; instead he wore simple clothes and a generic gray mask. Wearing such masks was standard practice for Heroes who didn’t want to be “in character” but still needed to go places without showing their face. It was inconvenient; however, it beat the hell out of having one’s identity blown. Since he wasn’t wearing his Titan costume, though, it meant this was the man who had known he was coming. Or someone who was a really good guesser.
The fellow who had spoken was tall and lean, wearing a suit that was conservative enough to say corporate but expensive enough to show he was high on the food chain. His glasses and watch were designer, and his hair had been expertly styled. Owen suspected he was not going to like this person.
“You’re Harold?”
“Mr. Greene, if you don’t mind,” the man replied.
“Whatever you say.” Owen hefted his bag again. “We going inside?”
“Of course,” Mr. Greene said. “If you’d be so kind as to follow me.”
Mr. Greene and Owen walked through the front doors, large glass ones that opened into a sprawling lobby that seemed to be made of marble. All around them other people in suits and business appropriate outfits scuttled about, doing things that they no doubt believed were of the utmost importance. In the center of the lobby, just ahead of a long row of elevators, was a circular station where a pair of guards sat. Mr. Greene stopped at this station and handed them a card extracted from his breast pocket.
“We’ll get your keycard and I.D. done this afternoon,” Mr. Greene informed him. “You’ll need them at all times while on premises, otherwise you won’t be permitted access.”
“That so?” Owen said the words casually, but as he spoke his eyes swept the room, years of experience alerting him to the bits and bobbles of security a casual observer wasn’t supposed to see. “Have to say, the tazing system built into the floor wouldn’t really slow me down, and the knockout gas dispensers you’ve got disguised as fire alarms would only tickle my throat. Now, the pulse cannon you’ve made to look like a potted plant, that might set me back a few steps.”
“Impressive,” Mr. Greene commented. “I suppose there is more to you than size and reputation.”
“I aim to please.”
Once they passed the security guards, Mr. Greene flashed his card in front of an elevator near the end of the line. Its doors whooshed open and the two men stepped inside.
“All this for one team?” Owen asked as the elevator began to rise.
“Don’t be silly. This building houses offices for multiple companies, all owned, at least partially, by Mordent Holdings. Each member of the team is sponsored by at least one of our companies, so we made a few floors into facilities for them. We find it best if our representatives stay on site.”
“You mean where you can keep an eye on them,” Owen said.
“We provide housing, food, facilities, and entertainment, all at no deduction from their salaries. I’d say that’s quite a generous situation for them,” Mr. Greene shot back.
“Because we all know corporations love doing things from the goodness of their hearts.” Owen fiddled with his duffle bag once more. “Look, I’m not telling you how to run your company or your team, just calling it like I see it.”
“I’d suggest you call it more quietly.” Mr. Greene’s eyes never wavered from the climbing numbers on the elevator’s display. “We approved taking you on as the Hero Liaison because it was deemed to be an overall net gain. Should that equation change, we may need to revisit your position’s feasibility.”
“Yeah yeah, toe the line like a good boy or I’m out on my ass. If you don’t mind me asking, what made you decide to take me on, anyway? I’m not exactly the best PR magnet these days.”
“Mordent Holdings has recently received negative publicity at the hands of discrimination lawsuits alleging we create a hostile working environment for women and homosexuals. Some of the recordings played in court and leaked online were particularly damning. As part of our efforts to assure the public such culture will not be tolerated, we’re making strides to earn back the trust of the female and LGBTQ communities. Hiring you was one of many examples of our new corporate culture.”
The elevator dinged and the doors slid open, revealing a carpeted hallway leading to a single door at the end. Owen peered down its depths, counting at least four more security measures designed to take down anything from humans to rhinos to Supers with enhanced durability. These people didn’t skimp on security, at least.
“So you give me a second chance and hope the public will give you one. Not bad. What about the rest of the team? They picked to smooth out scandals too?”
“No, they were chosen for their abilities, appeal, marketability, and talents. There are four, aside from yourself: Galvanize, Hexcellent, Bubble Bubble, and Zone. Galvanize is their leader, since he has the most training and experience.” As he spoke, Mr. Greene stepped out of the elevator and began walking down the hall. “Don’t worry; the system recognizes biometrics, and anyone accompanied by me is considered friendly. We’ll get you programmed in when we do your keycard.”
Ow
en contemplated telling this man that he hadn’t hesitated out of worry for himself, he had been more afraid of breaking something if the system went after him. He decided to stay quiet, however. No need to rock the boat too much on the first day. Besides, there was zero doubt Mr. Greene was the kind of man who’d read up on Titan. He knew it would take more than standard safeguards to bring down this near-giant of a man.
“Anything else I should know before we go in?” Owen followed his escort off the elevator, noting that it closed swiftly as soon as he exited.
“Only this: even though you are not sponsored by any of our companies, by aligning with people who are, you become a de facto representative of us. We expect you to take that seriously and behave appropriately.”
“Me? I’m always appropriate,” Owen said, making an expression as innocent as he could behind the gray mask.
“Glad to hear it.”
“Glad to say it. Now let’s go on in, fuckwad.”
The look on Mr. Greene’s face was worth the earful Owen knew he’d be getting later. With a slight chuckle and a genuine smile, he took the last several steps and opened the door.
3.
Owen’s first headquarters hadn’t been much. Whether it was a Hero, a doctor, an MBA, or a bartender, a recent college grad is a recent college grad. True, Owen had made a little money during his internship under Citadel, his Hero mentor; however, he’d likely have made better cash waiting tables during that time. The end result was that when his first team formed, their financial resources were limited. Their headquarters/living area had been a near-condemned old mattress store that they’d erected half-assed partitions in. It had been derelict, dirty, and largely unsafe. Still, he carried fond memories of that time in his life, if only because both he and the people he worked with were still young and idealistic enough that the future looked like a bright and wonderful thing.
His first thought upon walking into this new team’s headquarters was that if his first team had been able to get a place like this, they would have taken a lot fewer calls in favor of staying home and being comfortable. The front doors opened in to an expansive living room. Next to it was a large kitchen, gleaming with stainless steel appliances. Windows lined the far wall, looking out toward the city and providing a breathtaking view. The floor was carpeted with lush, soft material. In the living room, a gigantic television stood in the center of an entertainment unit, surrounded by various videogame systems and flanked by a wraparound leather couch. A young woman with ink-black hair and makeup- pale skin mashed on a controller and a small male figure on said giant screen plummeted down a spiked pit to his doom.
“Fucking bullshit horsecock dickgarglers,” the woman swore, spitting it all out as nearly one word. She jammed a button on the controller and the screen reloaded, the digital man immediately resurrected.
“Keep it down,” said another woman, this one sitting on an end of the couch so far away it faced the door rather than the television. Her skin was pale too, though it was also dotted with freckles at irregular intervals. Her carefully-styled copper hair was swept to the side, purposely not obscuring her line of vision as she flipped the page on her magazine.
“Why don’t you go try to suck a gig out of a producer’s cock?” the other woman shot back.
“Why don’t both you notice we have a guest and show a little a class?” said a new voice, this one from a young man emerging out of the kitchen with peeled orange slices in hand. He turned to greet Owen and Mr. Greene with a wide, practiced, and dazzling smile. His wavy brown hair and boy-next-door features only completed the effect, making him appear affable, friendly, and immediately accessible. “I’m sorry about that. I’m Galvanize, the team leader.”
“Titan,” Owen replied, taking the young man’s hand in a firm shake. It had been a lot of work learning to shake hands without shattering bones, but he’d perfected it ages ago.
“The one playing video games is Hexcellent, and the woman reading is Bubble Bubble,” Galvanize said, pointing to each as he spoke.
Hexcellent paused the game to give Owen a half-hearted wave, turning in her seat rather than standing up. She was lean, slender all over, but with the type of tight muscle one saw in athletes and Heroes. Her face was probably pretty, but since it was obscured by several piercings, dark lipstick, and so much eye makeup that it even coated her cheekbones, it was hard to tell. She wore all black and had a tattoo of some bat-like creature on her left shoulder.
Bubble Bubble, on the other hand, was especially put together. She wore clothes that had the kind of simple elegance that looked ordinary but Owen knew actually cost a dump truck of money. She had a more classic beauty, the kind one might find in the Marilyn Monroe era. This one, at least, gave a smile and said “Hello” before turning back to the magazine in her lap.
“Where’s Zone?” Mr. Greene asked, interrupting the already awkward introductions.
“In the gym,” Galvanize replied. “His exercise quota is higher than ours, after all.”
“Of course. That is acceptable then, just be sure he is introduced to Titan when he finishes,” Mr. Greene instructed. He turned his attention to Titan. “I’ll send someone to help you get set up in an hour or two. In the meantime, settle in and meet your new team.”
With not so much a “good luck,” Mr. Greene turned around and walked through the doors, which closed with a whooshing sound afterward.
“Isn’t he just a ray of sunshine,” Owen muttered.
“You get used to him,” Galvanize said. “Why don’t you get comfortable, take off your mask and shoes? Can I get you something to drink?”
At the mention of his mask, Owen’s eyes immediately went to the glass, which was so clear it barely registered as present. Galvanize saw where he was looking.
“Don’t worry; it only looks that way from our side. It’s custom. Durable beyond durable and impossible to see through from the outside.”
Owen trusted Galvanize’s words; however, unmasking in an unfamiliar place was something every bit of his life’s experiences told him not to do. Besides, he was going to have to leave soon to go get his access card and whatnot. Better to be masked in case the person coming to get him had access.
“I’m fine for now. As for the drink, what kind of beers do you have?”
“Oh, I’m so sorry, none of us are allowed to have alcohol,” Galvanize told him. “Part of our contracts and health requirements. I can offer you fresh squeezed guava juice, mango juice, specially made vitamin-infused water-”
“Water is fine,” Owen said, reeling at how kids this young could be okay with being banned from beer. Afterward, he chastised himself; these were accomplished professionals in their own right, he didn’t need to start thinking of them as kids just because he was old.
“Coming right up.” Galvanize walked to the kitchen and returned with a colorful bottle mere moments later. “So, since you’re new here, what would you like to know?”
“Let’s just start with the basics.” Owen grabbed a chair in a part of the living room not dominated by the giant couch where the two women were still largely ignoring him. “What are everyone’s powers?”
“A perfectly great place to start,” Galvanize agreed enthusiastically. “To go around the room, Hexcellent has the ability to summon creatures out of thin air.”
“Demons,” Hexcellent corrected, not looking away from her game.
“They are somewhat scary looking, and given the goth image her advertisers pay for, we would like it if you referred to them as demons,” said Galvanize, soothing his teammate while shooting Owen an apologetic look.
Summoners weren’t too common. Owen had only met a few in his Hero career. Of course, the term was a bit of a misnomer. What they actually did wasn’t summoning, it was creating an animate energy construct. It worked the same as people who could duplicate themselves, only instead of a personal copy, they formed something else. Most only had a few things they could create: the complexity to form one was so intense that
having more than a couple of options made it too muddled to keep straight.
“How many can she summon?”
“I got three,” Hexcellent answered from the couch.
Three wasn’t bad. It was definitely HCP grade. Owen made a mental note to find out more about her power later, then motioned for Galvanize to continue.
“Bubble Bubble can create energy spheres that are pretty durable, and she can even move them with her mind. Not terribly fast, so we can’t use them for rapid transport, but they are quite helpful in getting people out of high places and the like.”
Evidently Bubble Bubble saw no need to correct Galvanize’s assessment, as she continued to read quietly.
“Zone is in the gym, but his ability is basically enhanced agility, strength, and reactions. He’s not at the level of really powerful Supers, but from the human perspective he’s the best athlete alive. That’s why he picked that name, because it’s like he’s always in the zone,” Galvanize said. “Which leaves me. Aside from a nearly negligible side-effect of minor enhanced durability and strength, my main power is to give people a little extra push. I can amp them up and bring them to their peak.”
“You’re an enhancer?” Owen’s eyes went wide. Enhancers were rare, damned near mythical Supers who could increase the strength of a person’s power.
“Not a true one, no. I just bring people to their own physical best, and I have absolutely no effect on people’s abilities. Again, it’s all physical. I can’t make them better than they normally would be, just take them to the maximum of their own level. It’s like if you were a car, and the absolute best you could get up to, with ideal handling, was one hundred and ninety miles per hour, I would jump you to that speed. A real enhancer would bump you to, like, three hundred.”
“I see. So when you use this ability of yours, anyone you target is suddenly going at maximum strength, speed, et cetera, within the limits of what their body can physically do?”
“You got it,” Galvanize said. “It doesn’t last long, but it’s made the difference a few times in helping get people to safety.”
