Captain Marvel

by Tess Sharpe

  “You worried us there,” Carol said gently. “But I guess you know that.”

  Mantis let out a weak laugh. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t say that.” Carol shook her head. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

  “I think I can handle it now that I’ve gotten a bit acclimated. I just had no idea it’d be this bad,” Mantis said, her voice hushed, as if she could barely admit it to herself, let alone Carol. “I—I can feel every single person within a hundred miles, Carol. And the pain… There’s one woman, thirty miles away—she wakes up every morning reaching for her daughter, who was executed years ago. The Keepers like that… the public executions. They’re in so many people’s minds. The images, playing on repeat, because you can’t run from it once you see it.”

  Carol kept her face blank, but inside, a storm was raging. Her knuckles itched to sink into someone’s face. They had to do something about this planet once they had rescued Rhi’s friends.

  “What can we do?” she asked.

  Mantis met her eyes, and her own seemed to almost glow with fury. “Make them pay.”

  * * *

  BEFORE THE dawn had finally broken, Hepzibah had set the course for Edias, the capital city just eighty miles across the Field of Fire. She wove the shuttle skillfully through the pillars of red rock, confident that its cloaking mechanism would foil any searchers below. Amadeus had zeroed in on an abandoned warehouse that would make the perfect hideout. They just needed to get there undetected.

  The twin suns were just starting to peek up against the reddening sky when the capital came into sight, a sprawling city set along the coast of a blue-green ocean. Thousands of domes rose from the red soil, glowing softly in the pre-dawn light, packed along the coastline for miles. Some were the size of a small town, others a modest home.

  “We’re here,” Carol announced as they flew over the outskirts of the city, heading toward the water. “Hold on, everybody.”

  Scott grabbed the doorway when the shuttle made a sharp turn, and Hepzibah called Amadeus’s name.

  Carol followed him, peeking into the cockpit as Amadeus sat down next to the Mephitisoid. They were at an abandoned dock, hovering a few feet above the water in front of a dingy white dome that looked like it was about to deflate like a sad balloon. There were cracks in the white walls, and a few splashes of bright paint in symbols Carol didn’t recognize—Damarian graffiti.

  “This is it?” Hepzibah asked as Amadeus tapped code into his tablet, his eyes on the dome.

  “Yep, give me a second.”

  “Hurry,” Hepzibah urged, jerking her head to the side. “There’s a boat coming in to dock over to our left.”

  He finished tapping. “Done.”

  When the top of the dome broke open like the petals on a flower, Carol felt like cheering. Hepzibah steered the ship into the building, setting down on the main level, where several abandoned hover-cars and not much else had been left behind by the dome’s previous owners.

  “I’m going to do a quick sweep of the place,” Carol said, turning around as Hepzibah made sure all the thrusters were locked.

  The delivery warehouse was dark and gutted, water dripping from the pipes in one of the small bathrooms—God, you couldn’t even flush the toilet without a heat sensor on this damn planet, Carol thought as she surveyed the stripped expanse. The office on the second level just had a desk and a few chairs left, but she located a generator in the back and pressed her gloved palm against the censor. Their luck held: It buzzed to life.

  “All clear,” she called as she loped back to the main level, turning on just one interior light to avoid drawing any attention. One by one, her team climbed out of the shuttle, looking around.

  “I’ve got to get to work right away,” Amadeus said. His backpack bulging, he also carried a crate full of equipment tucked under one arm. “And we need to go over our cover stories.”

  “Let’s find an office and do that now,” Carol responded. “Come on, Scott.”

  “Rhi and I are going to review our plan to break into the president’s inner sanctum,” Hepzibah said. “I shall enjoy shattering his sense of safety when he returns home.”

  “That would be…” For a moment, Carol thought Rhi was horrified by Hepzibah’s bravado, but instead, a smile spread across her face—part mischief, part revenge, and all wonder. “That would be amazing,” she said eagerly.

  “Make sure you’re at least a little discreet,” Carol suggested, ignoring Hepzibah’s raised eyebrow.

  She led Amadeus and Scott into an office and turned on the light. Amadeus set down the crate and spread out equipment from his backpack on a dusty desk.

  “I’ve got to finish this second EMP,” he said as he carefully sliced a rectangle out of a swatch of black material.

  “I’ll go over our background for tonight while you do,” Carol said. She nodded at Amadeus’s tablet on the desk, and Scott set it at an angle all could see. It displayed a Damarian alert issued a few months ago on their network: KHAL MINING PATRIARCH DIES.

  “This guy left his company to his son, Davian. Scott, that’ll be you; I’ll be the wife. The Khal miners have serious money, and ‘Davian’ should be a big enough fish to wiggle close to the inner circle—which means proximity to Jella and Umbra.”

  “Sounds good,” Scott nodded. “But what if somebody at the fundraiser knows Davian?”

  “The island miners are infamously insular, and you bear a passing resemblance,” Carol said, “so chances are good that might get us through. On top of that, a little snooping in his personal correspondence showed he’s on a family cruise around the Southern Islands for the next week, so you won’t have an unexpected doppelganger tonight. Amadeus can pass as an assistant to the owner of the company, so he’ll be able to move through the museum without suspicion.”

  Following the story, Amadeus nodded and picked up a bottle of glue, squeezing it along the edges of the material he’d just cut out. Then he grabbed a pair of tweezers and began to spiral a set of magnetic wires carefully into the glue. “I’m hoping I can get to the generator room to set the charges to wipe out the power pretty fast. But you guys might need to mingle for a while.”

  “And we need to find the girls and let them know we’re safe before the power goes out,” Scott said. “We can’t just try to snatch them in the dark, no explanation.”

  Carol nodded in agreement. “I’ve got the tokens to show them we’re connected to Rhi, but getting the discs to them might prove tricky. That’s where I’ll need your help to run interference, Scott.”

  “I will be as distracting and charming as possible,” Scott promised.

  “Any questions?” Carol asked.

  “I’m good,” Amadeus said. “I do think Rhi wanted to teach you some Damarian 101, though. Especially you, Carol. She seemed worried you were going to stand out.”

  “That’s my next stop,” Carol replied. “Let me know if you need anything, Amadeus.”

  She and Scott made their way back to the delivery floor, where Mantis was going through the equipment. Rhi and Hepzibah were sitting, their heads bent together as they went over their own plan for the night.

  “We need to dig out the clothes we had made before we left,” Scott said, heading over to help Mantis. “Did they give us Damarian formal wear?”

  Carol nodded. “Funny, I never thought I’d be using Alpha Flight’s team of costume designers.”

  “You do have a pretty classic look,” Scott said.

  “Clothes over here,” Mantis said, pointing to the red-topped crate. “Weapons are in the blue crate. I made Hepzibah give up the ember bombs.”

  “Not all of them,” Hepzibah sang out over her shoulder.

  Outside, Carol could hear the city waking up as the twin suns rose in the sky. The splash of water lapping against the shore, the whompa-whompa of ships in the harbor, the voices of the dock workers calling to each other as they began their day—always the voices of men, not women.

  She clos
ed her eyes, thinking of her mother’s voice, of the songs she used to hear her singing softly, late at night. She hummed one of the tunes to herself, some old Gershwin that she didn’t even know half the words to, her own voice blending with the noise she heard outside—adding a female thread to it. Even if no one could hear it but her.

  Carol sighed, trying to shake her sadness. She needed to walk. To burn off some energy.

  “I’ll be back,” she said. “Just gonna look around.”

  She could feel Mantis watching her as she left, heading to the back of the warehouse, where it smelled musty. Letting out a long breath, she leaned against the curved, damp wall and closed her eyes, picturing President Ansel’s face. And then she pictured herself punching that face. Repeatedly.

  She’d spent a good hour in her room last night trying and failing to hover even an inch in the air—and feeling ridiculous each time. But that hadn’t stopped her.

  She couldn’t shake how vulnerable she felt, flightless; then she’d laugh at herself—she’d been here less than twenty-four hours, and already the limitations had gotten under her skin. How privileged was she, both here and on Earth, that she couldn’t stand the loss of even one of her powers for a day or two? Rhi and her friends—all the Inhumans—had suffered a decade of it, and under monstrous oppression. It was just that she knew something she wouldn’t admit to the team: To pull off this risky plan, they needed all the help they could get.

  Her fingers curled around the dog tags that had been returned to her from the void. They were warm from her skin, and they pulsed with her own heartbeat, reminding her of her promise.

  She’d been a soldier; she’d been a spy. She knew how to play a role. How to stick to that role, no matter what happened. But still, it hurt to walk into a den of wolves and rescue only some of their prey, leaving the rest behind.

  20

  RHI TAPPED on the door of the bunk in the shuttle, where Carol was changing.

  “Come on in,” Carol called.

  She was sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing the long dark-blue dress with the skirt reaching near the shuttle floor. “What do you think?” Carol asked, getting up and spinning around. “Do I look the part?”

  “Almost,” Rhi said. “But your hair…”

  Carol touched it. “What? Do they not wear their hair short here?”

  “No women do.”

  “Hmm, good to know. I’ll figure out some excuse.”

  Rhi hesitated, not knowing how to start. She’d spent the whole day with a tight ball of anxiety and dread growing in her stomach. How could she allow them to do this? Crashing in the ravine and fighting the Damarian Guard when they didn’t even have full access to their powers was bad enough, but now she was encouraging them to walk right into a building that had every member of the Council in it. She was asking Hepzibah to accompany her in breaking into Ansel’s home. How could she ask this of them? It was all so dangerous.

  But you’re so close, said a voice inside her.

  She was… so close. She had gone all the way to the end of the galaxy to get help and had come back with it—and now she could almost see it all: her friends’ joyful smiles, the relief in Alestra’s eyes as she realized she wouldn’t have to raise her child here, Mazz’s face when she experienced freedom for the first time, Umbra’s kiss when they were finally reunited. She wanted all those things so badly, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was sending her new friends into a death trap.

  “I wanted to talk to you,” Rhi said. “Not just about the hair, but about… how it is here. I don’t want you to… I don’t want them to find you out.”

  Carol’s head tilted, and for a moment, Rhi was afraid she’d offended her, but then she sat back on the edge of the bed, patting the spot next to her.

  “Why don’t you tell me about the rules?” Carol prompted.

  Rhi sat down, studying her hands, focusing on the torn cuticles, how they were bitten to the quick. How could she impart this in the right way? She’d learned the important lessons that very first day she’d met Ansel. They’d been imprinted on her soul in her parents’ blood. Then, later, Miss Egrit had drilled the rest into all of them through repetition, deprivation, and abuse, physical and mental.

  “There’s a way to act,” she said. “Keeping sweet, that’s what they call it. You’re supposed to be demure and unbothered and gentle. Never angry; always cheerful and obedient, no matter what they do to you. You can’t meet any man’s eyes. If you speak before one speaks to you, they’ll think you’re a radical bent on shaming her husband.”

  “Fantastic,” Carol smirked. “What else?”

  “You’ll stand out no matter what,” Rhi went on. “The way you hold yourself, how you move, you’re going to draw attention. But if you play it right, you can use it to your advantage. He will notice you.”

  “The president?”

  Rhi nodded.

  “How much time have you spent with him?”

  She twisted her fingers together. “Enough. He came to the Maiden House often when we were young, but he fixed on Umbra early because she can manipulate water. His perfect counterpart, he used to say. Her father encouraged it.”

  “He what?” Carol’s voice sharpened to a knife’s edge in one word, her head whipping toward her.

  “What?” Rhi asked. “Did you think all the Inhumans remained noble and stalwart on the islands, heroically plotting their daughters’ rescues?”

  “I’d… hoped,” Carol said quietly.

  Sometimes, Carol’s optimism surprised Rhi. How did you get like that? To be so powerful, to experience so much—because there was pain running deep in Carol, Rhi could see it, especially the night she gave her back the dog tags—but to still have so much hope? Rhi wanted to be like that. She wondered whether she was capable anymore.

  “Umbra’s father realized quickly that having a Council member so intrigued by his daughter could get him special perks, and then when Ansel became president, well…” Rhi said. “Now he’s the presidential liaison between the Council and the Forgotten Island Inhumans. The job was a reward for signing over his visitation rights to Umbra. Ansel wanted her to himself.”

  “I don’t know if I’ve said before,” Carol gritted out. “But I really, really hate these people.”

  “Me too.” There was no violence in Rhi’s voice—just unvarnished truth.

  “When it comes to Ansel, we do have one advantage,” Carol said. “He’s scared of you.”

  Rhi’s stomach lurched, and she almost laughed because the idea was so absurd. “No, he’s not.”

  “Of course he is,” and Carol said it so much like it was fact, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, that Rhi was taken aback, wondering whether she might possibly be right. “You have things that he will never have.”

  “What?” she asked, because she desperately wanted to know, because she wanted to believe it. She wanted to believe Carol, this woman who was fiercer and freer than anyone she’d ever known.

  “Your people believe in you. Umbra believes in you. And you believe in them. You came back. You didn’t have to. If he was in your place, Ansel would never return. He’d never come back to fight. Because a person like that? They can’t inspire loyalty, because they have none of it themselves. And loyalty on both sides is one of the keys to a great leader.”

  “I don’t know how to lead,” Rhi said, her voice small, her stomach twisting.

  Carol flashed an encouraging smile. “Yes you do, Rhi—that’s how you found me. And you’ll learn even more as you go. Now, it’s time. Are you ready?”

  Taking a deep breath, Rhi met her eyes. This was the moment she had dreamed of for years: She had found help out in the galaxy and returned to free her people. She stood up straighter, holding Carol’s gaze.

  “Yes, Captain,” she responded. I’m ready.”

  * * *

  NIGHT FELL quickly over Edias, the sounds from the dock waning as the boats settled in for the evening and the rest of the ci
ty began to buzz with the energy of the nightlife. When Rhi and Carol reached the lower levels, they found the rest of the team readying to leave.

  Watching them drive the delivery truck out of the warehouse was almost as hard as the moment Rhi fled the Maiden House to reach for the stars. Hepzibah clapped a hand on her shoulder when Rhi sniffed, trying to hold back tears as the truck made the final turn and disappeared into the city.

  “Do not fear, Rhi,” she told her. “Carol is almost as wily as I. And don’t tell her I said this, because she doesn’t need a bigger head. Even without her ability to fly, she is a most challenging opponent to defeat in a battle.”

  “I know,” Rhi said. “I just…” She licked her lips, trying to voice it. “I just don’t want to get my hopes up. Because if everything goes right, then in a few hours, Umbra and Jella might be standing right here… but if it goes wrong—”

  “If it goes wrong, we will find a way to make it go right,” Hepzibah insisted. “Now you and I have a mission as well.”

  Rhi looked over her shoulder at Hepzibah’s shuttle. “Does it really go underwater?”

  Hepzibah grinned. “Let’s find out, shall we?”

  21

  “EVERYONE’S COMM working?” Amadeus asked as he pulled the delivery truck into the alley behind an abandoned lot. All around them, the squat, curved domes of the city rose like little warts on the landscape.

  Carol wiggled the comm tucked in her ear. “Check. Alpha. Bravo. Charlie.”

  “Coming in clear,” Scott said.

  “Me too,” Mantis added from the front seat.

  Driving through the winding streets of Edias had been interesting—and a little dizzying. The streets operated on a spiral pattern, instead of a grid like she was used to, and by the time they parked a few blocks away from the museum, Carol was wondering how the Damarians got anywhere on time.

  Everywhere they looked, on every screen and electronic billboard they passed, Rhi’s face was plastered with the words DANGEROUS FUGITIVE emblazoned above it.