Superluminary Page 4

  ***

  The litter-strewn Museum Parkway had been completely deserted last night when she’d arrived, but by dawn the scenery was different.

  The sound of people talking stirred Chris from her sleep. She was exhausted and sore, but the distant chatter of indistinct voices wormed its way into her consciousness and was difficult to ignore. She rolled onto her side and opened her eyes. And there, not sixty feet in front of her, was a complete television crew.

  Startled, Chris squinted her eyes shut against the bright morning light. Then she sat up and braced herself for another look.

  The TV crew was still there. They’d set up their equipment near the edge of the park, beside a small van with the words ANBE News: Evolved for You printed on the side.

  Now that Chris had stirred from the bench, a few things happened at once. Someone started the van’s engine, and several crew members barked orders. The camera guy scampered over to a large tree for cover, still pointing his equipment in her direction. A blond man talked into the camera lens with frantic haste, waving his arms in the general vicinity of her bench.

  It was absurd. A reality comedy kind of absurd, without the comedy.

  The crew was too far away for Chris to decipher everything they said from their excited chatter, but she caught snippets, including her name along with the words ‘activity’ and ‘this morning.’

  What the hell?

  While she was watching everything, a female voice from above interrupted her stunned thoughts.

  “Christina, are you feeling all right?”

  Chris looked up to see that the words had been transmitted by a hovering drone. The device was about the size and shape of a basketball, with small metal extensions jutting out from its lower half like legs on a spider. A dark-tinted lens, set within the center of the metal sphere, adjusted itself to view her face.

  “I’m okay,” Chris said, peering up at the drone guardedly.

  The thing made a slow descent until it was suspended in the air directly in front of her, its dark lens focused on her with a faint mechanical buzz. Chris followed the drone’s movements with narrowed eyes and prepared to jump to her feet in case she had to make a break for it.

  “I am glad to hear that, Christina. We have been quite concerned for you,” the object said in a voice which sounded more like a real human being than a machine, but the English was stilted and artificially correct as if the woman was reading from a textbook.

  The words caught Chris off guard. “Who are you?” she asked, peering into the camera lens.

  “Athena,” the drone replied. “Do you recognize the name?”

  Of course, I do, Chris thought. A person would have had to live under a rock for the past two years to miss who Athena was. Chris wasn’t a hero junkie like some people were, but she had seen the posters, t-shirts, and merchandise featuring the famous Covenant heroine. Athena was one of the world’s most powerful Technicians, second only to Data.

  Her name explained the strange speech pattern. According to hero tabloids, Athena had developed a software program that allowed her to speak every language in the world. Considering that she was Greek, and her accent was probably thick, it worked even though it made her sound like a robot.

  “You’re with the Covenant, right? With Radiant and the others?” Chris asked.

  “Yes, that is right,” Athena said. “Radiant asked that I speak with you, Christina.”

  Chris felt her shoulders slightly relax. It had to be a good sign that the Covenant was talking to her. If they considered her a threat, she would be dead already.

  “Would you like me to send the television crew away?” Athena asked.

  “Yeah. They’re giving me the creeps.” A second later, Chris added, “Please.”

  “Just a moment.”

  The drone entered a passive standby mode in which it simply hovered. After a couple of minutes, the blond man in the back of the ANBE van pressed a phone to his ear, his brow furrowing. He signaled to the rest of his team with an irritated sweep of his arm. Turning his back, he released a stream of shouts into the phone, displeased with something.

  After another half minute passed, the verbal barrage slowed down as the blond man was forced into a more passive role by whoever called the shots on the other end of the line. When he turned back to face her, Chris could have sworn that he glared at the drone before ordering the crew to retreat off-site. They loaded their equipment into the van with practiced precision before climbing into various nearby vehicles and vacating the parkway.

  At the same time, the drone came out of standby. Its lens refocused on Chris’s face with a faint buzzing sound.

  “There is not anyone who can overhear us now,” Athena assured her. “I am intercepting any signals that are not my own.”

  “Thank you,” Chris murmured, half of her attention still on the departing television van. She drew her knees up against her chest, her muddy sneakers resting on the edge of the bench.

  “You are welcome,” Athena responded. “You may not have noticed, but we also evacuated the beach last night and placed it under strict lockdown. The same is true for this section of the park. ANBE News was the only exception.”

  Chris raised an eyebrow.

  “We have found that it helps to suppress public hysteria if we allow the transmission of some peaceful images of the newly Evolved,” Athena explained.

  Chris tried not to be offended, but the words cut deep. “Is that why you’re here?” she asked. “Because I’m creating public hysteria?”

  “No, not necessarily,” Athena said. “The fact of the matter is that whenever a person transitions, a member of the international Covenant is sent to oversee their file. I have been personally assigned to your case, Christina.”

  Chris looked at her feet. Sand was still stuck to her sneakers from the night before. “Well, thanks for showing up,” she muttered. “I guess.”

  “We’ve been with you for the last twelve hours,” Athena informed.

  That caught Chris off guard. Again. “Because you think I’m dangerous.”

  “No, not necessarily,” Athena’s voice repeated patiently, “although a number of referees have investigated your files, and have identified some concerns regarding your psychological profile by taking the assessment of relatives and witnesses into account, it was strongly suggested that we offer you some time alone before attempting communication.”

  The assessment of relatives and witnesses, Chris echoed in her head. Her parents. Ryan. All of the people who used to care about her but no longer did. Ryan didn’t, at any rate. She was one of them now.

  Chris’s heart felt like it was being squeezed by an iron vice. Her anxiety was rooted in a distant kind of fear, like a red balloon attached to her wrist by a long thin string. It couldn’t hurt her as long as she didn’t look up. She dropped her head into her lap and made a small sound that was lost within the furrow between her knees as she rubbed her temples with small circular motions.

  Athena interpreted it as acknowledgement and continued. “They believe you are too unstable to be classified as cooperative. But I think you show promise. I do not believe you intend to bring harm, which is why we are having this conversation right now. Many things will depend on my impression of you.”

  Athena sounds like Aunt Claire, Chris mused, her thoughts trailing off. Her mother’s sister had always thought that Chris’s dad was too hard on her.

  “If you’re here to pressure me into the Wardens, I’m not interested,” Chris stated firmly. “Besides, what makes you think I won’t hurt anyone?” She suspected she was being difficult, but the question had to be asked. She wanted to know the heroine’s thoughts on the matter.

  Athena didn’t seem to hold it against her. “First of all, your powers seem to be relatively harmless compared to the likes of Osmotic and Shadowslasher. Queenie did a check on you and believes you have your powers well under control, although I will ask you to be careful near others. I am sure you would not want to see
anyone getting accidentally hurt.”

  There was a pregnant pause which Chris stubbornly refused to fill.

  “No, it is much more likely that you would attempt to harm yourself,” Athena deduced, as if speaking to herself. “In addition, you do not appear to be the violent type. Of course, there was that incident at your high school in junior year. But after looking into the available evidence, we agreed that your behavior was understandable under the circumstances.”

  Yeah, they were bullying me about my baby brother. And then I made them stop.

  Another pause.

  “Queenie’s report also suggests that you have inherited some kind of enhanced danger sense. Could you elaborate on this for me?”

  Chris didn’t know what to say to that. I get visions of people dying, and then it happens. Or something. She pushed the thoughts away and up into that detached red balloon. “Um, I just know that other people are in danger,” she tried to explain. “But it’s all weird and messed up.”

  “Transitions are often confusing like that, Christina. You might still notice some small adjustments to your powers in the coming days. Was it just around your sister’s … um, incident … that you experienced these sensations? Or did you experience them any other times?”

  “After dinner I thought my neighbor Mrs. Chapman was in trouble, but she and her husband were just fighting like normal.”

  “Interesting. Please hold on while I look into that,” Athena said, and then the drone went into standby mode again. A minute or two later, the heroine’s voice was back. “The police did not receive any reports matching the time of the incident. However, it is possible that you picked up on some incident away from your home,” she informed. “Shortly before an actual transition, Evolved senses begin to reach out even though they are not yet fully developed or reliable.”

  Chris began feeling like some sort of science project. She wasn’t sure she liked being under the microscope like this.

  “Not only do you have quite a substantial range, but you seem to project force fields of considerable strength, which is unusual.”

  “What makes them unusual?” Chris asked. “Barrier creates force fields. Sanctuary’s peace aura seems much more unusual to me.”

  “You are the fourth confirmed case that can command them,” Athena said. “But the first whose force fields are of such variable strength.” She carefully picked her words. “Do you know the reason why?”

  Chris cringed internally. She didn’t want to talk about Helen right now, didn’t want to visualize the car crash or the one force field which had shielded Ryan from harm.

  Athena broke the uncomfortable silence that hung between them. “We believe you to be a Guardian, just like Sanctuary and Saint. Are you sure you will not reconsider the Wardens? Many newly transitioned enjoy working with their national hero branch. I believe you might as well.”

  Chris set her jaw. “I don’t want to be a Warden. And besides, I doubt they’d even want me,” she said honestly, repeating her thoughts from the night before. “I mean, look at my reports. How long before someone decides I’m a danger to society after all?”

  “So you are choosing to become a rogue?” Athena couldn’t keep the regret from her voice.

  “If that’s what you call it, then yeah.”

  “Then I must inform you that, as a rogue Evolved, you will no longer be treated as a citizen of the United States. You will forfeit all of your rights as an American citizen and as a human being. In concordance with global law, you will now be classified as an AHLF—an altered human life form.”

  Chris sensed the threat hidden in her words. As far as she knew, human rights didn’t apply to altered human life forms.

  “It is my responsibility to ensure that you are aware of your juridical situation. Now that you are, would you like to reconsider your decision?”

  For a moment, Chris wavered. Maybe forfeiting her human rights wasn’t the smartest thing to do right now. Maybe she should play by the rules after all. That was what her sister had always done, and it had always worked out for her.

  Until it didn’t, Chris sullenly realized, her eyes stinging with tears.

  She shook her head firmly. “I’ve made up my mind. I need to be okay with myself first, and that will only happen if I make my own decisions.”

  “Fine,” Athena answered. “In that case, I will officially deem you a cooperative rogue. We will leave you alone as long as you play by the rules.”

  The drone’s lower half split down the middle and the machine’s gangly protrusions retracted inside. A moment later the thing returned to its original configuration, though from its tentacles it now dangled a piece of green fabric with the letters UNEOA and the Covenant’s golden lightning bolt emblem embroidered on it.

  “Take this armband and put it around your arm,” Athena instructed. “It signifies that you have been deemed safe by the UNEOA—the United Nations Evolved Oversight Authority—and that you may move around freely. But,” she added weightily, “you must not use your powers against people for any reason. You may defend yourself from other rogue Evolved, though it is advised that you call for help instead.”

  “Fine,” Chris echoed absently. She stretched out her legs before setting her sneakers on the pavement. She was ready for this conversation to be over. “Anything else?”

  “There is one other matter,” Athena told her. “Your parents. They would like to speak to you.”

  The red balloon burst.

  “I can’t,” Chris choked out. “Not now. Not like this.”

  “I can respect that.”

  Chris jumped to her feet, prepared to make tracks, but something held her back. “Athena, do you think I can fix this?” she asked into the drone’s lens.

  “That is a question only you can answer for yourself, Christina. But I believe you have potential.”

  Potential. There was that word again. Maybe this time she would finally be able to do something good and not screw it up. And if she failed, then maybe the world would be better off without her.

  1.3 Mascot

  Averton, Washington, USA

  Sunday, the 27th of May, 2012

  9:45 a.m.

  After fleeing from the Museum Parkway, all Chris wanted to do was to find refuge from the condemning eyes she felt all around her. Unless she wanted to lie in the crevice in Founder’s Rock for the rest of her life, she knew that she would never be able to escape the public who was suspicious of her.

  I guess it’s time to adapt a little, Chris thought ruefully. She needed a hero costume to show the world that she wore her new status without any embarrassment. In the USA, costumes were mandatory for any Evolved, though only heroes were under enough surveillance to enforce the law. Identity protection had nothing to do with it. Costumes were a means of alerting everyone of a powered person’s presence.

  Chris sought out the closer of Averton’s two costume stores. In the two years since the Pulse had introduced superpowers to the world, the costume business had overtaken some of the market share that used to be held by fashion stores. But not everyone was a fan, and not every clothing store was in the costume business.

  As Chris entered the store, she noticed it offered a good selection of hero apparel. Themed merchandise hung in rows, filling most of the shop’s interior. T-shirts and sweatshirts mostly, featuring the most popular heroes like Radiant, Samael, and Queenie. Even Athena’s armored image was there. In fact, all members of the Covenant—a handpicked selection of the world’s most powerful Evolved who used their powers at the bidding of the UNEOA—were in the store.

  Several of the Wardens’ most popular heroes stared back at her, including Kid, the national favorite. The young girl’s plucky image stared back at Chris from t-shirts, sweatshirts, and ball caps, as well as book bags, pencil cases, and mugs.

  Although most national hero teams like the Wardens did little beyond the occasional interview or PR campaign—governments deemed the risk of collateral damage to be too high, and
the police wanted to keep their jobs—the public had been influenced by pre-Pulse superhero fiction, and people were very eager to celebrate their homegrown heroes.

  Life-sized cardboard stands had been positioned before each suite of racks, depicting the heroes’ individual styles in great detail. Even Shanti’s cardboard image was present. Chris wasn’t sure for how much longer, though. The Indian rogue’s power surge a few weeks ago had sparked a slew of international discussion about how much power was too much.

  The handful of hero costume knockoffs for sale throughout the store had been conspicuously labeled with big yellow signs, informing buyers that it was against the law to wear any hero costume in public.

  Chris raised her hood over her head and slipped past the shop assistant before he got a good look at her face. Even though she was wearing the green UNEOA armband, she didn’t trust people’s reactions.

  Once she was away from the sales counter, she felt safe enough to take a closer look around. She spotted what she was looking for, a slew of random dress-up merchandise—like Halloween costumes and colored wigs—at the back of the store and made a beeline for it.

  I could dress up as a Covenant heroine, Chris thought as she examined a Queenie costume near the back of the store. The idea amused her enough to grab the snow-white gold-hemmed dress and hold it against her body.

  She eyed herself in a mirror, thinking that she looked about as ridiculous as she expected. Her arms and shoulders were too strong to match the dainty lace hems, and the fact that she was wearing loose jogging pants underneath the multilayered spill of skirts wasn’t helping.

  Chris hung the dress back on the rack and looked around for alternatives. Curly purple wigs. Gargoyle masks. Oversized neckties. How was she supposed to find anything that spoke to her in a place like this?

  Frustrated, she nearly left the store empty handed. After catching her hooded reflection in the mirror, she realized that there was exactly one reason why she needed to get a costume: to do her thing without people freaking out left and right.