TWO MONTHS BEFORE THE MASK COMES OFF
Bedevil heaves a big sigh as she looks out over the battle site from the roof of a strip center. A misshapen lump of scales and claws lies, half-melted, in the middle of the street. Half a block of ruin and a collapsed apartment complex lie beyond it - the evidence of its power. Krater pokes at the thing’s body and offers her a thumbs up. Flashfire streaks by overhead and lands next to her.
The creature rumbles, and Flashfire jumps away from the corpse in a panic. The draconic head lifts, the yellow eyes bulge, and it vomits black liquid from its mouth. The enormous skull crunches into the pavement and the black liquid, apparently dead for real.
Flashfire checks one more time. “Okay, now we’re good.”
“Is that… tar?” Krater asks, looking at the vomit.
“Or ink,” Flashfire offers.
“How the hell did this thing get through the PK dampener threshold?” Bedevil mutters to herself.
A creature this big, this Heavyweight shouldn’t have been able to develop, but it seems like that’s exactly what happened.
“Dotty, show me the profile on this… lady,” Bedevil says, as Dotty already has the details of the fight projected in the air in front of them. She points out the relevant information: “She registered as Cruiserweight last month. A simple power that gave her durable scales, let her work as an emergency worker. Engram count puts her on the low end of that. But drones today scanned her at low Heavyweight!” Meaning she passed the threshold. Not that it was totally impossible even in the dampening field… but it’s an extremely rare circumstance with it on. And why had she turned so negative? Her power could have gone any number of way as it passed thresholds, and yet she became a monster.
Highheart jumps onto the scene with a loud clank-clank of her armor. Her movement in the old Templar gear is much more fluid than it was when Bedevil first saw her in it, as if she’s been practicing, but the suit itself is rigid and bulky. She nods to the group and says, ”Sorry to interrupt. PK just called and said their facility was attacked last night.”
Bedevil can barely stop her eyes from bugging out of her head. “The dampener is down, and we’re just finding out about it now?”
Highheart sighs and nods again.
“Alright. Krater, Highheart, you two help the survivors. Flashfire, let’s go visit PK Resonance and see what’s going on.” Bedevil shakes her head. PK should have called them immediately, not waited an entire night. It makes her wonder what the hell Park Dae-seong is up to.
They weave through the sky above the downtown traffic and continue into the western half of Houston above a network of highways. Almost a century ago, these freeways were clogged with hundreds of thousands of cars. Now, they serve mostly as the foundation of the railway systems. At one particular nexus of highways, an immense rail station rises several stories above street level, where thousands of people wait to commute to various parts of Houston. Some of these people cheer and wave as Bedevil and Flashfire fly over.
“So no details on the logs about the attack at all?” Bedevil asks Flashfire as they fly over to the facility.
“Jack shit,” Flashfire calls back to her, then adds: “I got a hold of someone from the campus. They said someone melted a hole through the basement level and destroyed some equipment, and everything else was top secret.. Sounds like our favorite asshole, though.”
She wants to curse him out for how he acted on the mission dealing with Rex’s mask gang. Yet, even if she’s angry with how he handled that, he’s still a cape. He’s still on her side.
She decides to hold further questions and make a judgment of her own when she arrives.
PK Resonance’s campus in Houston is just to the west of the main downtown area. It’s several acres of lush greenery surrounded by an ominous, black wall the roads have conformed around. The houses and buildings surrounding the campus are much nicer than what she’s found in the rest of Houston, so this is where she guesses the capes and well-to-do guild masters live.
The central building of the campus calls to mind an anvil: a huge, jutting structure that looks like it’s solid metal all the way through, despite the numerous windows being evidence to the contrary. It’s all sharp lines and jagged edges, as if she could reach out and cut her finger on it. An enormous PK Resonance logo has been enameled on the side facing downtown.
Dozens of PK’s workers, in their steel gray uniforms and rainbow logo, are milling around outside, moving in and out of the building.
“When was the attack?” Bedevil asks.
“Highheart said sometime in the late evening, like 10 P.M., but the attack wasn’t reported until today.” Flashfire looks over his shoulder at her. He knows what that means.
“That’s a long time for us to not get a call.” Once again, she’s late for something important, getting the scraps of the scene.
That thought chills her. She doubts they’re trying to hide Home Run… but what if they’re trying to hide something else? Home Run told her Pandahead was working with the capes, specifically Danger Close. Danger Close was ahem, danger close, with PK Resonance, working on gear with the company and bringing their gear to Houston’s Shrine. Feeling like she’s about to spring some kind of trap, she lands close behind Flashfire in the courtyard entrance to the PK facility.
#
A huge statue stands guard in the courtyard before the main building, winged by stone steps that lead up to the building’s entrance. Golden and tall, it’s hard to tell exactly who it’s supposed to represent, but Bedevil wagers it’s a likeness of Park Dae-seong. She’s just glad it’s not another statue of Megajoule.
The entrance to the HQ is an open-air archway a half hundred feet tall, lacking a traditional door. The interior is separated from the outside world only by a thin, glowing membrane. Bedevil knows Affect technology when she sees it - likely this membrane only allows pre-approved Affect signatures through. Luckily for her, she has clearance on all PK campuses nationwide. They should have her signature approved by default.
Except, when she hits the membrane, it doesn’t allow her to pass through. A little shock reprimands her as she tries to walk inside.
Flashfire, too, is halted by the membrane. He throws a funny look at Bedevil, but neither of them dare to say anything. Who knows where various microphones are hidden around here.
A few seconds later, a tall, thin man with black hair down to his middle back emerges from the facility. He stops, a few feet from them, and stares with such little expression that Bedevil wonders if he’s dead, until a flare of his nostrils gives him away.
“ID?” he asks, as if Bedevil isn’t the most famous hero in the Vanguard and Flashfire isn’t Houston’s ex golden boy.
Bedevil gets the sense that PK is stalling her for a reason. She pulls out her ID - a trivial formality, but one that’ll hopefully clear this bean pole man post haste.
He snatches the ID from her hands.
“Hey!” she snaps, but he hands it back just as fast.
The man turns, moving like a scarecrow trying to come down off his pole. He slips into the building through the membrane, which hisses as it allows him through. A few seconds later, he comes out and nods to them. “You have been added to our security system. You may enter freely.” He beckons for them to follow. Bedevil and Flashfire exchange a glance that says, oh boy, I’m in danger! before Bedevil goes in first.
The builders had inlaid concentric gold domes into the vaulted marble ceilings, invoking ancient beauty through support columns with diameters greater than the span of Bedevil’s arms from fingertip to fingertip. A long, almost Olympic pool sized fountain babbles in the middle of the lobby, surrounded by a swarm of PK workers.
The scarecrow man holds a hand out again and says, “Please wait here.”
It’s then that Bedevil realizes she can’t get a read on his Affect. He’s either so lightweight she simply can’t feel it, or he’s very adept at hiding his emotions. Likely the second - if he has any authority here, he’s probably been trained in mastering himself.
“We have protocols, Miss Miller,” the thin man says, before disappearing through a set of double doors that clank loudly as they open and close. A gear churns and the door hisses to lock it in place.
Flashfire busies himself with studying the door, while Bedevil studies the workers coming and going. Of course, all of them spare her a glance as they go by, each a touch reverent as they see her. They’re from all walks of life, all places of the world. They enter through a set of double doors on the other side of the building, under a sign that says, “Employees Only.”
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
The doors the scarecrow man disappeared through whir and open, and he comes out again, this time tailed by a young, pretty woman in an office suit. Bedevil thinks she’s probably Korean.
“Bedevil,” she says, with a polite bow. “I’m Abigail Park. I hope we haven’t kept you too long. We weren’t expecting you today.”
“Park?” she asks. “You’re related to him?”
“His daughter,” Abigail replies with a tight smile. “Park Dae-seong was under the impression that the Vanguard had concluded its investigations.”
Concluded our investigations, when we haven’t even started them? She makes up a lie on the spot. “I’m here to examine some specific evidence, related to Home Run.” Believable, since the dampener had been melted.
Abigail bows very slightly. She steps aside to allow Bedevil through into the restricted areas of PK’s facility, glancing upward as she does so, as if seeing something in the ceiling that Bedevil can’t. When her attention returns to Bedevil, it comes with a tight-lipped smile. “Of course. We’ll assist you anyway we can. Park Dae-seong is in the dampener chamber now, overseeing repairs.”
While they walk, Bedevil feels for Abigail’s Affect, but is shocked to find absolutely nothing, same as the scarecrow man.
“Anyone die?” Bedevil asks Abigail.
Abigail’s emotions remain a mystery, but she does frown and look appropriately mournful. “A lab technician, responsible for monitoring the machine. She was one of five we have on rotating shifts for the facility.”
“She was here alone?”
“No, there were guards.” Abigail sadly bows her head. “But whoever attacked the facility successfully maneuvered around them. In the main chamber, yes, she was alone. There is some overlap in the technician’s shifts, but only about half an hour, so they’re alone most of the time.”
“Are there cameras?” Bedevil asks.
“They are useless in this facility, unfortunately, and for a few blocks outside of it. Our technology distorts the electromagnetic field and causes lots of minor malfunctions of that nature. There are Affect sensors, but they were never triggered last night. Whoever entered, entered by melting a hole through the floor in the bottom levels adjacent to some of the power line tunnels.” Abigail, looking absolutely helpful but being not at all helpful, smiles again, showing no teeth.
So no witnesses, no cameras, no evidence. Just a busted machine and a dead body. The actual method of entry into the facility seems like Home Run… but if there’s no proof he was here… well it could have been anyone. Because she knows nothing about what went down, who did what, or the reason why it happened. All of those dangling questions make Bedevil think that PK Resonance is definitely trying to hide something about this attack. But what?
“I’m afraid Flashfire will need to wait here,” Abigail says. “You are cleared, Bedevil, but he is not.”
“Hey, what the fuck? You want me to let you drag her in there alone?” Flashfire scowls and crosses his arms. “I’m not-“
“Thank you, Ms. Park. Please, lead the way.” Bedevil shakes her head at Flashfire, hopefully impressing upon him the need for calm emotions. “Flash, I’ll return shortly.”
Abigail leads her into the belly of the building, down flights of stairs and out of the well-lit, marble-tiled hallways, into something much more depressing. The ceiling is but a foot over Bedevil’s head. Another minute of walking brings them to a door that Abigail has to open by placing her hand on an access panel. Inside, an entourage of workers and guild fellows (the higher-ups of PK Resonance) swarm over the guts of the dampener machine. It’s significantly less whole than the other ones she’s seen. Each pod has been cleaved in half at the middle, carved and melted, each a stalactite and stalagmite meeting at a glossy, slagged point. Certainly fits Home Run’s MO. Bedevil figures he must have been paid to destroy the machine.
The mass of people shifts, and the crowd parts to deposit Park Dae-seong in front of Bedevil.
“Yeah, that’s definitely a statue of him outside,” Bedevil thinks.
He at least middle-aged but has the energy of a much younger man. He’s dressed in a gray Old States business suit, sharply tailored for his lithe frame, and his black hair is neatly trimmed and slicked back. He even has a checkered pocket-square and a red tie to complete the old world entrepreneur look.
“Ruby Miller, it’s an honor to meet you,” he says, introducing himself and extending his hand for a shake. His deep, sonorous voice catches her off guard, so imposing for someone with a face so affable and charming.
“Park Dae-seong,” she says, taking his hand.
“The very same,” he says. “I’m glad you’re here, actually, I’d hoped to meet with you while you were in town.”
No doubt to ply her ear on something he wants, to try and bend the will of the Vanguard toward his own. “That might be arranged, but for now, I’ve got an investigation to conduct.”
“Of course.” Park grins at her in a way that makes her feel like he’s peeling her skin away with his eyes. It’s the stare of a man who has been told no, but found a way to turn it into a yes every time.
Bedevil finds a similar void of Affect from Park as his daughter as he leads her into the machine. However, the other higher-ups and guild workers haven’t got the same training. They all give off some emotion - mostly desire, and judging from their exhausted expressions, probably for a bed. Right now, they’re engaged in pulling bits of melted wires out of the busted machine and loading up debris into trash containers.
“As you can see, the destruction was quite thorough. Completely ruined the dampener. To what end, I don’t know,” Park says. “Anarchists, maybe.”
“How soon will the machine be repaired?” Bedevil asks, studying the damage. That’s not her primary concern, but conditions will get worse in Houston as long as it’s down. Where the machine had arrested accretion of the Affect as much as possible, now, people are free to gain power. The sudden Heavyweight creature earlier this morning will only be the first of many.
“Normally, in other places, with our lesser dampeners, I could have it up and running by the end of the week.” Park shakes his head sadly. “But the Houston dampener is a… unique experiment.”
“Unique?” Bedevil asks. “Unique how?”
“In other cities, as you may have observed, Miss Dawson, there are many dampeners. A network, meant to cover the entire city without any gaps. It takes… what… a hundred just to cover Denver?” he asks.
Bedevil nods. That sounds about right. She’s seen the facilities - strange, alien looking buildings with large rods and dishes that extend a couple hundred feet into the air. They disrupt the skyline with their antennae, as if Metis herself forgot to hammer in the nails keeping Denver in the ground.
“Well, this one was bigger. It had an effective range of more than 50 miles,” Park says, beaming proudly. “Because of that, we only needed one facility to cover Houston, at least until a more traditional network is built. However, our board has agreed that perhaps the better move is to simply build more of these larger machines… say, three to cover the city of Houston.”
“You don’t have replacements at the ready?”
“Much of this machine was custom designed. Building the parts again and reinstalling them, and ensuring it meets our standards of preventing accretion while also not frying the city’s emotions… it’s tricky work. I’d say, the better part of a month.” Park raps the melted dampener with his knuckles. “You don’t want me to bore you with all the little bits of technical information, but rest assured the Vanguard is already aware of the limitations. Your mother-”
“My mother isn’t here. I am.” Bedevil stares him down, ready to show him that while he may be a guild master, and think he has Houston in his pocket, but she is still one of the strongest and most famous capes in the world. “And rest assured that her will and mine are the same.”
Park’s eyes shift and dart around. Bedevil notices they keep alighting not on his daughter, Abigail, but on the scarecrow man. They exchange furtive glances, and Park gives tiny hand gestures, small commands that she suspects will be acted on later, when she isn’t here. “Well. With you here, I’m sure the city can handle the small gap in coverage. Plus, we have laid some groundwork for the smaller dampeners. We can power up the stations we have. It won’t fully replace what we’ve lost, but it will do for now.”
“What if something worse happens?” Bedevil asks. “Like another Carnality?”
“No such threat exists in Houston now. Except Home Run, and you’re well on your way to catching him, aren’t you?” Park smiles at her without showing his teeth and she learns where Abigail got it from. The tight-lipped look is hereditary, apparently.
As arrogant as it is to assume, he’s likely right. Home Run isn’t presenting those signs yet, and if he does, they’re far more prepared for him than they were for Carnality. And… she’s met him. Even if the entire world gave him power, she can’t imagine that street kid burning it all down.
Still. The conditions might be just right for another Carnality situation if he does turn bad. Bedevil doesn’t show her concern though. She keeps her head high, almost haughty. Better if Park thinks she’s just another proud cape than someone who’s carefully studying him.
As she examines the machine, Park peers over her shoulder. He doesn’t say anything or interfere, but Bedevil is certain he’s making sure she stays within some kind of border only he knows about. He can feign worry for the machine all he wants, but it’s plainly obvious to Bedevil that he’s watching her.
She catches a whiff of something in the air, something chemical, gaseous. With her Affect, she peers at the molecules. There’s hints of bleach. Organic compound remover. Fuel, and the remnants of a blow torch.
Why would Home Run need a blow torch when he can conjure heat himself?
Unless the blow torch was applied after the fact.
Bedevil studies the way the machine has been broken, the way the molecules have melted and sloshed together, and what she finds are two separate incidents of heat. The first instance, she thinks, is in the inner core of the machine, where the melted streaks indicate someone thrust inward and pulled out, as if they were digging and scraping. The second instance is all over, on the outside, and like someone used heat to whittle the machine down from its original size. She glances at the pod next to her, sees the same, but on the third one over, there’s only evidence that someone used a blowtorch, none of the digging motion.
Someone is definitely hiding something from her.
As she moves around the room, Park and several of his entourage follow her, silent but drilling into her back with their gazes.
I’m being flanked. Cased. If I make a wrong move, something might happen.
The dampener is down, but who knows what other technology is here that could limit her powers, if they turned it on her?
“Definitely looks like Home Run to me,” Bedevil says loudly, turning to smile at Park. She offers her hand to him. “I’ll keep you appraised of my investigation.”
“Please, the pleasure is mine.” Park takes her hand in his and pats it with his other, almost like an overly fond father. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“That’s all,” she says, waving goodbye. The scarecrow man, not Abigail or Mr. Park, escorts them up and back out of the membrane.
When she gets back up to the central lobby, Flashfire looks like he wants to scream, but Bedevil puts a finger to her mouth. She motions with her head for him to follow her, and once outside, she swings into the sky to fly back to the Shrine.
As soon as they are away from the PK campus, Bedevil says to Flashfire, “I need drone footage around the compound.”
Flashfire’s Affect is a bit confused and more than a bit enraged. “What the hell was that back there?”
Her thoughts linger on the unique, experimental dampener. Park is hiding something about how this thing works. “Home Run was definitely there… but they’re hiding something about what happened. And I think, they might have been ready to kill us to protect their secrets.”