Chapter 16

In which we get some back story on the history of superheroes.

We stood in awkward silence at the bus stop a few blocks down from my apartment. It was weird not being able to use my super speed; I was accustomed to travelling quickly my destinations. Meteor and I didn’t go many places together, and even when we went to the diner we would take his car. Teravolt didn’t have a car, or a moped, or even a bike, and once again I cursed myself for allowing my own bike to remain without tires. At least we wouldn’t have had to wait for the bus.

I tapped my foot absentmindedly. Teravolt coughed. Passersby looked us up and down, pretended they hadn’t seen us, and kept on walking.

“Why are they all ignoring us?” Teravolt asked. “You’d think that we’re weirdos or something.”

“A lot of people are still afraid of metahumans,” I said. “Especially those of us that wear the suits.”

“From that thing with that guy attacking the U.N.?”

The Amaranthine, he called himself. He was probably the most powerful metahuman the world had ever seen. He left a wake of carnage across the United States on his way to hold the members of the U.N. hostage at their summit and killed every superhero who tried to stop him. I don’t remember how they got him in the end, but he got close enough to make a lot of powerful people with access to nuclear weapons very nervous. He also destroyed the morale of the superhero community for a good twenty years, at least. There was a period of time in there where you could count the number of active suits on the fingers of a fire cracker enthusiast’s hand. A lot of people still associated metahumans with the Amaranthine.

“Yep,” I said.

“But that was, like, fifty years ago.”

“He did a lot of damage and killed a lot of people. Memories take a long time to heal.”

As if to illustrate my point, we watched as an old woman walked to the bench next to us, noticed us standing there, and then not-so-subtly changed course and crossed the street.

“Huh,” said Teravolt.

The bus pulled up with a squeal and hiss of the brakes, and we paid the fare and boarded. I could feel the eyes on us as we headed for the empty seats toward the back. A few of the watching faces held awe, some held slight fear, but almost all of them had an element of uncomfortableness. We weren’t well known as heroes, and as far as the passengers were concerned we could be dangerous or unstable. The nervous silence was palpable in the cramped bus as we headed to the docks, where Valerie had said she and DeLuge had left Ranvier’s hideout.

Nova city abuts directly with the pacific ocean, so an entire side of the city consists of docks, piers, wharfs, and cliffs overlooking the sea. This provided a bustling business of seafood, international trade, and of course, various kinds of smuggling. Guns, drugs, maybe even office supplies. It’s part of the reason that there’s such a need for superheroes in Nova. Not all of those smugglers are regular humans.

“I should get some new boots,” said Teravolt.

I looked over at her, and then down at the boots that she had on. They looked like something you would wear to a death metal concert; with platform soles and big skull shaped buckles.

“Yeah, probably,” I said.

“I was thinking something with high heels. That would look really badass.” She shuffled her feet on the bus’s floor.

I looked toward the front of the bus again. “I knew someone who wore high heeled boots into battle.”

“I bet she looked cool.”

“She did, yeah. She was only in the hospital for a few weeks after that, too. I hear her ankles healed up just fine eventually.”

Teravolt sighed. “Oh.”

We were jostled around as the bus went over some sections of road that were in disrepair. It looked like the part of the docks that we were headed to was in a shady part of the city.

“You know how I said you can be a dick sometimes?” Teravolt said.

“Yeah?” I replied.

“That was one of those times.”

“Oh.” The bus hit a pothole and we briefly left the seat. “Sorry about that.”

A shriek of the brakes and a sudden stop, and we had arrived at the docks. My heart beat faster as I began to feel anxious. That anxiety persisted as we stepped off the bus and into the shadows of the dockside warehouses. Although it was midday, almost every inch of ground was blocked from the sunlight by the buildings, making it much darker than it had a right to be. We walked through the shadows for about fifteen minutes, passing huge boats, heavy machinery, and gargantuan piles of shipping crates. Dock workers seemed to be few and far between, and I would have sworn that the unease that I felt exuded from the very environment itself.

We approached a particular pile of shipping crates near a dead end created by the placement of the surrounding warehouses. They were stacked haphazardly on top of each other, forming a chaotic mess of rusty metal that was almost certainly not OSHA approved. Leading me to one of the ones on the ground, Teravolt unlatched it and heaved it open. On the floor of the crate was a large metal hatch, like what you would find on top of a submarine. With some difficulty, we managed to turn the wheel and open the hatch to the deafening screech of metal hinges.

We stared down the ladder into the surprisingly sterile looking white corridor underneath. My heart beat at a million miles per hour.

“Do you…” Teravolt began, her voice telling me that she felt the same way that I did. “Do you think we can do this?”

“Absolutely,” I said, but I sounded anything but certain. This was the mouth of the beast. All of those articles that I had read about Ranvier came rushing back to me. Some of them had photos. None of them were pretty.

If Meteor, the eternal optimist himself, thought this was a suicide mission, what chance did two sidekicks have?

Before I lost my nerve completely, I swung myself down the ladder.

The corridor was small, probably only seven feet tall or so, but it sloped visibly downward as it went on until the slope kept me from seeing any farther. Teravolt’s boots hit the floor behind me as she stepped off the ladder, and then we stood together, gazing down the passage. There was no turning back now.

I don’t know how long we walked down that passageway, but it felt like ages. We didn’t speak at all; it seemed wrong to make any noise in the eerie, almost hospital-like space. The floor and the walls were made of dappled white metal, with telltale signs of rust around the edging and fittings. I remembered that Meteor had put Ranvier in prison eight years ago. I wouldn’t have taken too kindly to spending almost a decade locked up, so I could only imagine how angry Ranvier was.

After a long time, we came to a thick metal door. It was tremendously heavy duty, maybe even more so than the door to the bank vault. What was weird was that it was wide open, with no sign of being forced. Someone had already been here, and it looks like they had been let in. Could it have been Meteor? Why would Ranvier let him in without a fight?

The door led to a circular antechamber about twenty feet across. I noticed a suspiciously large number of vent on the ceiling and barely noticeable grooves on the floor, in the spiraling pattern of a closed aperture. Nerve gas through the vents and a trick floor, maybe. This was more familiar territory for me.

The next door was also open, leading a corridor that turned gently as it led us downward into the lair of the beast. We must at least a mile underground by now, if not more like two or three. To think that a maniac like Ranvier was living underneath the city like this, poised to strike at a moment’s notice...the thought gave me chills.

Eventually the corridor split into three hallways; the left continuing downward, the middle evened out, and the right began an ascent. I looked at Teravolt, who bit her lip in thought.

“I think it was the middle one,” she said.

“You’re not sure?” I asked.

“I think it was middle,” she said again.

I shrugged and we chose the middle hallway. I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were walking into something we didn’t understand.

We began to pass by rooms on either side of us, sealed off with more of those big metal doors. In an emergency, this place could be locked down airtight.

As we passed more of the imposing doors, we heard a sound coming from one of them up ahead. As we got closer, we located the door to the room responsible for the sound. Cautiously, I pressed my ear against the door.

“What is it?” Teravolt whispered.

“It’s…” I said. “It’s…” I straightened up. “It sounds like Norwegian death metal.”

“Norwegian death metal?” She gave me a funny look. “How do you know it’s Norwegian?”

“I dunno,” I said. “It just sounds Norwegian to me.”

“What if it’s Finnish?”

“...Well, I guess it could be Finnish.”

“Or Icelandic.”

“Maybe, but it-” I started, then my brain clicked into place. “It doesn’t matter what kind of death metal it is! Why is there death metal playing behind this door?”

“I bet it’s a warning,” said teravolt darkly. “Like, they’ll do to you exactly what the lyrics say.”

As we argued, I began to notice a different sound. It was very soft, but gradually becoming either louder or closer...or both.

“Or it’s a sonic weapon,” Teravolt continued with grim pleasure. “And it liquefies the eardrums of anyone who hears-”

“Hang on,” I said. “Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?” she said.

“Like a buzzing noise.”

We both strained our ears. The buzzing became more distinct. It sounded soft but angry at the same time, and my mind went wild with the possibilities of what it could be. Robot hornets? A platoon of androids? A cloud of flesh eating nanobots? As it echoed around the hallway, it sounded closer. Could it be the mechanical whirring of an alarmbot dispensing deadly gas?

Teravolt and I exchanged a nervous glance. Whatever it was, it sounded like it was just around the corner. Teravolt began to charge herself, her physiological electricity casting yellow light on the walls as it frolicked over her. I shook out my shoulders and crouched down, ready to charge at whatever was coming at us.

The buzzing was overlaid with a whooshing sound, and the unmistakable noise of wheels on the floor. Whatever it was, it was almost on us, and it sounded like it had treads.

As Teravolt and I were just about to charge, around the corner came a man on a self balancing scooter.

He was exquisitely dressed, wearing a lean cut, bright red suit with a matching tie and leather shoes. His shirt was jet black and his hair was snow white, styled in a manner akin to pictures I had seen from the 1950’s with long sideburns. In his left ear was a large, golden hoop earring. He had a fast food cup in his hand with the straw in his mouth.

He stopped as soon as he saw us, and none of us moved. If this was a cartoon, there would have been an exaggerated sound of crickets. He took a long, slow sip from the straw and blinked a couple of times.

“Aw geez,” he said. “Did I leave the door open?”

Author's Note

Always remember to lock your door.