by C. C. Ekeke
He studied Carolina as she began rewrapping his midsection with fresh bandages—telekinetically. Reuniting with her brother had brought the teen out of her shell, revealing a sweet and fiercely intelligent girl. “Where’d you learn this?”
Carolina shrugged while strips of floating white bandages wound about Greyson’s stomach. “I attended Olivier Bowen’s family before my powers manifested. Then…” Her face dimmed. “I became a weapon.”
“Ah.” Greyson could only imagine the horrors this youngster had endured at the hands of the royals.
Carolina’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “They treated me well when I behaved.”
“And when you didn’t?”
Carolina finished bandaging Greyson with a not-gentle pat to the back. “I’ll show you the scars one day.”
At that moment, Connie breezed in. The summer dress she wore flattered her slim frame. Her short hair was growing into a shag-length bob. Greyson assessed her with a lazy smile.
Connie greeted Carolina, then locked eyes with Greyson and blushed. “Hey.”
Greyson stood and snatched up his polo shirt. “Is it starting?”
Connie smirked. “Half an hour ago,” she replied.
Greyson cursed his lateness. Four days ago, Côte Royale had surrendered without a single shot fired. Now Amarantha belonged to supers and their human allies. Even better, most AmeriForce and Royal loyalists had been captured. Today, the acting leaders of Dourado, Angelique, Bellazul, Merenwjick, and Noordaal met in San Lorenzo to discuss peace terms for House Fourmon. Despite being a foreigner, Greyson was eager to watch the birth of a new Amarantha.
He struggled to shrug on his shirt. New bandages combined with aches limited his mobility. “I’m having problems with…”
Connie approached, putting his shirt on properly and buttoning him up.
“…my shirt,” Greyson finished. Connie was caring for him yet again. “Thanks.”
She stood on her tiptoes and pecked his lips. "Anytime."
Greyson pulled her into a more passionate kiss, until Carolina cleared her throat. She stood at the door tapping her foot. “We going, or you two need alone time, yea?”
“From the mouth of babes,” Greyson quipped. Connie laughed as the trio left the room.
The mission’s main chapel was packed for this historic meeting of Amarantha’s new leaders. Greyson caught many familiar faces. Rodrigo, in the rear, paled but didn’t flee. Greyson nodded respectfully and kept moving. No friendship or trust remained. Solomon towered over the crowd near the nexus, CJ snuggled beside him. He waved Carolina, Greyson, and Connie over.
At the main altar were Toliver Mendes of Dourado, Camila Blackwood from Noordaal, Yves Rousseau from Bellazul, Belen Nielsen from Angelique, and Armando “Mando” Betancourt from Merenwjick. Five acting governors, a mix of superhuman and humans chosen by their own cities.
“Where are we?” Connie whispered to Solomon.
He rolled his eyes in frustration. “Still arguing over who should represent Amarantha at the Côte Royale treaty.” The lively debate happening between Amarantha’s new leadership intensified.
“Have reps from every major city,” Camila Cottonwood suggested, leonine in movement. She idly ran fingers through long, inky hair. “A show of strength.”
“That communicates divisiveness,” Toliver Mendes strongly disagreed. “Too many voices.”
“How?” Mando threw back, short and thick in physique. “Each city will be represented.”
“Thus the reason why the royals fell,” Yves Rousseau countered, heavily tattooed with gold rings and a blue mohawk. He looked like some pirate. “They weren’t a united Amarantha.”
The arguments went back and forth in English and Amaranthine.
“What do you think, Greyson Hirsch?” Mando’s voice caught Greyson turning to leave with Connie.
Wincing, he rotated back around. Everyone in the chapel stared at him. Greyson felt blood drain from his face at the sudden attention. “Statesider here. Not my place.”
Belen rose from her seat, a study in elegance. “You exposed AmeriForce’s corruption.” With her fair complexion and platinum pompadour, she looked more Nordic than from anywhere in the Caribbean. “You have earned a voice.”
Greyson fought back a wince. No escaping this. He studied the crowd. “Amarantha should speak with one voice at this peace summit,” Greyson said loudly. He approached the five governors so everyone could see him, ignoring his shaking hands. “One voice to lead this unified island. Not a monarch answering to no one. Not outsiders thinking they know best.” He added that point to disqualify himself. “A leader or leaders chosen by Amarantha’s citizens.” Greyson turned to the governors. Each looked quite confident he spoke of them. “Decisive, open to advice, loyal to this island. Someone who inspires those who follow him.”
Greyson faced the crowd again, mind made up. “That person stands right there.” His heart raced as he pointed at the worthy leader.
Solomon scoffed, until all eyes focused on him. “Me?”
Murmurs rippled through the crowd in agreement. The five governors also appraised Solomon with probing stares.
“Yes.” Greyson didn't think hard to express Solomon’s worth. “Solomon knows what losing everything is like, to be the lowest of Amarantha’s hierarchy.” He pointed to his friend while addressing this crowd. “After I nearly killed this man, he shook my hand out of respect. When I came to him with a plan to expose AmeriForce’s corruption, he listened despite his doubts.”
The murmurs became chants of “SOLOMON! SOLOMON!” The man himself looked beyond humbled. CJ clapped, excited for her partner. Carolina cried happily for her brother. Rodrigo cheered. Connie’s eyes were for Greyson only, full of pride.
Solomon raised a hand to beg off. “Greyson…”
“Shhhhhh,” CJ chided. “Let him lionize you, Sol.”
Greyson and many in the crowd laughed. “And when it came to doing what this island needed,” he continued, “Solomon led by example. If I were Amaranthine, he’d be my choice.” The crowd was whipped up into a pro-Solomon frenzy. Greyson, having done his work, retreated to Connie’s side.
Toliver looked pleased. “Who else concurs?” he asked.
The room gave thunderous approval.
Toliver blinked, he and the other governors nearly bowled over. “Anyone disagree?” Other than a few naysayers, Solomon Shen was now leader of a unified Amarantha.
An hour later, Solomon was christened Premier of Amarantha. After the official decision, he pulled Greyson aside, visibly shaken. “My sister. My island.” He whistled and shook his head. “Glad I ignored my first instinct when I saw you in that training center.”
“Which was?”
Solomon grinned like a crocodile. “Rip your arm out and bludgeon you to death with it.”
Greyson gulped. “Yeah, probably.”
Solomon leaned against a stony wall. “I don’t know anything about governing,” he confessed, like a guilty child. “I’ve grown up poor. Been a slave for seven years. How can I lead Amarantha?”
“One day at a time.” Greyson honestly didn’t know. But he knew in his wounded gut that Solomon was the right person. A symbol for a new regime. “Start with negotiating Côte Royale’s surrender. I’ll be there to help you through the next few weeks.” He clapped Solomon’s shoulder, which felt like iron.
Solomon allowed himself a smile, despite his panic. “Thank you, friend.” Within minutes, advisers and self-styled politicos found them and whisked Solomon away. After watching them disappear around a corner, Greyson headed back to his quarters.
Connie was waiting for him on a balcony, taking in white beaches and endless crystal-blue sea.
“God, what a view,” Greyson marveled, slipping both arms around Connie’s waist. “The beach looks good too.” Connie laughed, a sound he needed to hear more. She twisted around into his kiss. Greyson explored her body with eager fingers while her delicate hands slid down his pants. The pa
ir collapsed onto a beach chair and rode each other into exhaustion under balmy sunshine.
“What if we stay?” Connie whispered sometime after. They lay snuggled and satiated on the beach chair. Her eyes were alight from this possible future. “Make a home on Amarantha?”
Greyson’s mood soured. He'd hoped to avoid sharing any plans a little longer. Now Greyson had to kill her dreams. “I’ll stay until I’ve healed.”
Connie pushed up to her elbows in alarm. “Then?”
Greyson grimaced at her naiveté and glanced inside his room.
Lauren sat on his bed, a cold smile on her face. “Go on," the hallucination urged.
“Sooner or later, the US will find us,” Greyson admitted. “Then we’ll have to run. And if Solomon does get the US trade embargo lifted, that might happen sooner than later.”
The joy fled Connie’s features, gutting Greyson. The anguish was brief, replaced by abrupt hardness. “There’s more, isn’t there?”
Greyson nodded. No way he could hide this from her. There could be no happy ending, not until he had exposed what this world had become blind to. “There’s a sickness out there, Connie. Superheroes spreading false gospel, making the masses dependent on them for protection.” This new purpose had fueled him during his fight with AmeriForce when he’d wanted to give up. “AmeriForce was one example. So was Titan. Missy Magnificent. And Morningstar?”
Connie’s hardened features remained unaffected by his choice.
Greyson continued. “Those are the ones we know about. These corrupt heroes are a cancer. Someone has to be the cure.” Now for the hard part. “If you want to stay here, I’ll understand.”
Connie sat up with her bare back facing him, bathed in sunlight. “Sounds like an impossible hill to climb.”
Greyson had known this from the moment he’d chosen this new mission. “It won’t be easy. But what happened on this island proves why these false saviors must be stopped. Whatever it takes.” Greyson sagged on the lounge chair, awaiting her expected answer. The smart answer.
Connie could start a new life on Amarantha. Find new love.
She turned, a grin on her face. “You have my back, I have yours,” Connie said, reciting Greyson’s own words. “Guess I’m going with you,” she vowed, as if there was no choice.
Greyson opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He didn't expect that. Again, Connie showed her worth. He yanked her down to him, silencing Connie's delighted squeals with another kiss.
Tomorrow, Greyson would plan. Today was for celebrating.
Chapter 51
“Mom, hurry!” Hugo paced around his bedroom, feeling awkward and exposed.
He heard Mom rummaging in her room. “Almost ready!”
Hugo rolled his eyes. “Said that five minutes ago.” The sooner this show-and-tell ended, the better.
“Okay, okay.” Her approach click-clacked across the hallways. Was she in heels? Mom hadn’t worn heels in ages.
She opened Hugo’s door, wearing a tight white blouse and floral skirt. Her hair was styled in silky curls falling down her back. She even had makeup on, which caught Hugo off-guard. Heady special occasion perfume tickled his nostrils.
Hugo’s jaw dropped. “Wow!”
Mom stared back, equally awed. “Same here.”
Hugo’s cheeks burned as he inspected himself. “Oh, this old thing?” Mom wanted to see him in his Aegis suit. He’d obliged tonight. But Hugo kept the hood and mask pulled back to not frighten her. Not wearing the mask felt so out of place, especially at home.
Mom approached almost reverently. “I just had to see you in costume. Wow....” She placed a hand on the shoulder, studying the purple-and-black coloring, the detailed lining. She shook her head as if trying to grasp this reality. “I’m so proud of you, Bogota.” Her eyes watered, filling Hugo head-to-toe with emotions.
“Jesus, stop!” he complained, mainly to keep from crying. Hugo held his mother’s hands and changed topics. “You look nice. What’s the occasion?”
Mom sniffed, regaining composure. “Blind date,” she admitted sheepishly.
Hugo gawked. “Really?”
Mom withdrew her hands. “Don’t look so surprised.” She shrank a bit, clearly expecting negative feedback.
“No, no. I’m glad,” Hugo promptly stated. Enough time had passed. “Are you ready?”
Mom gave a nervous smile. “I think.”
Hugo hoped so. Any man would be lucky to have his mother. “Good. Tell me how it goes.”
“Mom, hurry up!” AJ barked over that god-awful Extreme Dreams show theme tune from the TV downstairs.
Hugo bristled at his brother’s rudeness. He almost replied, until Mom gave a terse headshake.
AJ remained angry at everyone since Sione’s departure. Hugo could tolerate AJ’s attitude. But not toward Mom. “What are we doing about him?” Hugo wanted to tell AJ the truth about Sione. But Mom wouldn't soil her brother further.
Weariness seeped through her demeanor. “We should take a weekend trip to Big Sur.”
Hugo loved Big Sur. But his superhero duties increasing and AJ’s issues changed things. “Take AJ this time,” Hugo suggested. “He needs you more.”
“MOM,” AJ hollered. “This century!”
Mom winced. “Alright!” She turned to Hugo. “I’ll drop AJ at Dallas’s house then go to my date.” An impish smile chased away her worries. “Are you hanging out with Jordana after patrolling? Or Taylor?” She raised one finger as an epiphany reached her. “Wait...Spencer came over two nights ago. Or is it Abilene, who clearly likes you? Or maybe that Latina girl from Halloween? I’m really losing count,” Mom concluded, frowning in mock confusion.
Hugo gritted his teeth, regretting anything he’d revealed about his love life. “Goodnight, Mom!” The teen pulled his hood and mask on, adjusting both so they fit just right. Now he felt like Aegis.
Hugo zoomed past Mom, racing downstairs and out the backdoor.
An hour later, he stood on a high rooftop taking in San Miguel at night. Beyond an expanse of illuminated skyscrapers and veins of traffic, dark, frothy seas roiled.
So much city, almost zero major crimes. Mostly street-level crimes being handled by the cops or Geist’s team. Down in Arroyo Grande, Hugo’s hearing caught the roars of airplanes departing and landing at San Miguel International. In Atascadero, the Elite versus some ten-foot, four-armed monster named Behemoth ended brutally. Hugo knew to steer clear of them.
Tomorrow Man had contained a fire spreading to a few wineries in Cambria…with cameras rolling, of course. Still desperate to make people care. The school assembly earlier this week where he’d spent an hour humble-bragging proved it.
And Lady Liberty soared miles above doing an aerial patrol.
For now, Hugo stood and listened. Blocks away, a couple celebrated their anniversary. Three friends encouraged each other at the gym despite a long workday.
Or the near noiseless footfall behind Hugo. “Don’t you have criminals to intimidate?” he said in his Aegis voice. “Or paparazzi to avoid?”
The footsteps stopped, breathing hiked. “Fuck you, Aegis.”
Hugo glanced over his shoulder at the silhouette with glowing red eyes. “Tonight's quiet.” He looked back to the skyline. “I just want to enjoy the city.” San Miguel this high up took his breath away. “Did Titan ever do that?”
“Rarely,” Geist replied after a moment. “Always another disaster to avert.”
Hugo snorted. “Or another bed to warm.” But who was he to judge with his growing situationships?
Geist, of course, didn’t laugh. “Everyone has vices. Speaking of.” He tossed something at Hugo.
He almost ducked, recalling his first encounter with Geist. Instead, Hugo caught a black thumb drive. “What’s on this?”
“Undoctored footage from Paso High’s library,” Geist explained. “You vanish for a second, so do several kids. Then you reappear right as the camera and library are destroyed.”
The re
velation kicked Hugo in the gut. He looked at Geist. “Anyone else seen this?”
Geist shook his head, his shrouded form like one of the shadows around the roof. “Your school uses close-circuit feeds. We swapped it with a corrupted copy that distorts.”
Hugo gulped in crushing relief. “Thanks.” He stuffed the flash drive in one of his suit’s hidden pockets, reinforced to protect contents from damage.
The specter of his secret loomed like someone watching from afar whom he couldn’t see. First Brie, then Mr. Proctor. Now this. Searing guilt flooded him, which he only now felt. “Mr. Proctor knew about me,” Hugo blurted out. Besides Geist, only Simon, Mom, and Lady Liberty knew. He shook his head slowly. “I want to say I let Proctor die because of his crimes. But I know it was also to protect my identity.”
“Hmmm,” was Geist’s gravelly, eloquent response.
Frustrated, Hugo tried a question to get a reply. “Did I do the right thing?”
“Yes.” Geist’s growl softened. “But is judge, jury, and executioner the kind of hero you want to be?”
Hugo opened his mouth to refute. But what if another criminal committed monstrous deeds? Or learned his secret identity? “No,” he answered honestly. “I don’t think so.”
A windy rush heralded someone’s arrival. “It shouldn’t be, Aegis.”
Hugo looked up. Lady Liberty floated a few feet above, hands on hips, wearing her red outfit and knee-high boots. The breezes tousled her brunette bob. How her slender legs weren’t chilly baffled Hugo, until he realized how long he’d stared.
“Geist,” Lady Liberty greeted so coldly that Hugo’s ears nearly froze off.
“Libby,” the vigilante snarled back. His glowing eyes shifted to Hugo. “Stop grinning like an idiot!”
Hugo gazed at two iconic members of the Superhero Triad which had included Titan. Now he stood with both as a peer. Damn straight he was grinning like an idiot. “Not sorry,” Hugo gushed. “This is epic!”
Lady Liberty rolled her eyes, trying not to smile. “Table the fanboying tonight.”
“NOPE,” Hugo threw back. “I’m still a fanboy, even after getting Titan’s powers.”
