Chapter 44. (3090)
My room is pitch black despite the blinds being open. My stomach is growling, and my tongue is so dry it feels like printer paper. I must have slept for a day and then some. My eyes are crusty, and I stumble toward my bathroom, flashbanging myself by turning the light on. I look rough. I look like shit. My hair is a limp mess, I need to shave, and there are heavy bags under my eyes. But all that can wait until I work out. I do a quick face wash and head down to the basement, putting my headphones in. Exercise is proven to help your body release endorphins.
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I finally look like myself again. Clean-shaven, manicured hair and moisturized skin to recreate the image I am trying to project. Piercing green eyes stare coldly back at me. I begin practicing my expressions. I’ve gotten too used to not having to do anything with my face as Nobody. Complacency is how you get discovered. I smile, but it doesn’t reach my eyes. Again. Raise my cheek muscles, slightly close my eyelids, and figure out just the right amount of teeth. I keep repeating different types of mouth movements to convey desire, embarrassment, irritation, pleasure, happiness, and more. Human beings are able to communicate so much emotion and intent through the slightest facial triggers. What does my smile look like when it is genuine? Does it look like any of these?
My Cowl phone went off while I was showering, so I grab it from my room to see who messaged me. The first one is Rorschach telling me that she got a great deal on the gold and will let me know once it’s done. The second message is Isaiah informing me that he and Tuesday got all the ‘rats.’ I text Isaiah back and tell him that he’s going to be going after a few Nuevohumans and will be handling Jeremy soon. Then I message Vivienne all the info I have on the White Knight Militia Group.
The White Knight Militia Group spawned out of some more militaristic KKK members believing nonwhite Nuevohumans are the harbingers of the apocalypse. They are extremely territorial and, for the most part, do not leave their compound. The government and Heroes’ Union leave them alone because they do not want to aggravate them into action. I guess the idea is that it is better not to disturb the wasp’s nest inside your shed if they aren’t bothering you.
The group has two leaders, one spiritual and one military. Their spiritual leader is Father Forward, a hellfire and brimstone Catholic who can manipulate multiple forms of energy to create constructs or weapons. Their military leader is Franklin Prior, a former army general who can cover people in a nearly invisible shell that can survive any one hit. The final two Nuevohumans are a Manipulator who can create crystalline objects that can explode on command and a Bruiser who gets slightly stronger every time they die. The Bruiser’s file was incredibly small and was very vague about what exactly getting stronger means. It will be a while before any of them respond to me, and there is no chance I will fall back asleep now, so I guess I can make breakfast. The house is quiet; the central air shuts off in the early morning, so there’s no faint humming. I quietly walk down the stairs, trying my best to be courteous to Daniel.
I settle on making home fries with bacon and eggs. Cooking has always been a task that came easily to me. Tune out the world around you and focus only on the immediate tasks. And ever since stealing Mumur’s power, it is a task I find enjoyable. Methodically washing and peeling the potatoes while the oil in my pan slowly heats up. Then, the bacon goes on a sheet pan into the oven as I crack the eggs into a bowl. In the kitchen, everything has its place and job. I cube the potatoes and drop them into the hot oil as the bacon reaches its halfway point. The sounds of practiced whisking and oil frying fill the kitchen. Once the bacon and potatoes are almost done, I pour the eggs into a stainless steel pan, pushing and pulling them with a spatula for a softer scramble. I made too much. There’s plenty of everything left over after I fill up a large bowl.
I start eating, quickly finishing and getting another heaping portion. I continue wolfing down food until I hear footsteps coming down the stairs. My father’s lumbering steps prelude his tired arrival into the kitchen. He’s in boxers, slippers, and a dark green bathrobe. Daniel looks fatigued. He must be working long hours again.
“Hey, kiddo. Whatever you’re cooking smelled so good it woke me up. Got any left for your dad?”
“There’s plenty. Help yourself, Dad.”
“Thanks,” he said, scooping a little bit of everything onto a plate.
He sits across from me at the table, both of us eating in silence. The only light in the room is from the fixture above the kitchen island. The wall is cast in the distorted silhouette of my father and I. We both finish our food without a word exchanged. This might be the last time we talk. A delicious breakfast topped off with the empty remains of a hollow relationship laid bare. As I push my chair out to get up, Daniel speaks.
“Are you okay?” He asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Eryk, you were very nearly a victim in what was the worst tragedy to ever occur in our town. You lost one of your best friends, and I heard Aubrey got in an accident. Now Maria is showing up here and telling me she can’t get in touch with you. Listen, I’ve never had to discipline you or worry about you because you’re such a great kid. But you’re disappearing for hours, showing up whenever, and now you’re sleeping away the days. Are you depressed? Because the alternative to that is something I don’t want to consider.”
Is he seriously trying to have a heart-to-heart conversation? It is far too late for that, Daniel. I cannot bother with him anymore. It is good that I removed all the troublesome powers before I came home, or this conversation would be much more difficult.
“I have been busy preparing to move to Quinstin. I have been taking trips there to see the city and the campus, Dad. I’m fine, well, not fine, but as close to it as you can get, given what happened. I appreciate your concern. Maria and I are in a bit of a rough patch. She kind of betrayed my trust, and I asked for space; clearly, she didn’t agree,” I laughed.
I see something in his facial expression. There is a hint of hesitation as he battles his desire to pretend to be a father and the uncomfortableness he feels looking at me. But in the end, your love for your dead wife prevents you from loving your son.
“Alright. Can’t blame me for me being too much of a worrywart. You must be excited about going to your dad’s alma mater if you’ve been in Quinstin so much. God, that brings me back.”
“I’ll be honest. I can’t wait to get out of this town, Dad. After everything that’s happened, this place weighs on me,” I said.
“I get it. If that’s how this place makes you feel, then maybe I’ll pull the trigger and finally sell this house. Just retire and get something smaller; God knows it’ll feel empty when you’re at college,” Daniel said.
“Wherever you pick, make sure its got better weather than New England. It’s like a swamp outside,” I joked.
Daniels smiles, and I leave the kitchen, heading to my room. I have nothing to do but wait until Vivienne is awake. I could watch a movie.
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Vivienne drops me off at the base and leaves with Tuesday. They are headed up to Vermont to do some recon on the White Knights. As soon as I walk in, Isaiah approaches me. He’s wearing slim-fit black jeans tucked into wine-colored snakeskin cowboy boots. His top is a ripped-up, long black tee with patches the same color as his boots, filling up the missing fabrics. Matching onyx rings are on both of his middle fingers, and a rose gold chain completes the outfit. Isaiah looks like a runway model instead of my resident cleanup man.
“Welcome back, Nobody.”
“Hello, Isaiah. I see your cast is gone. Does that mean you're already healed?” I asked.
“Yep. Kai did the final check-up this morning. Gave me a clean bill of health, minus a terminal case of sexy,” Isaiah said, striking a pose.
“What a shame he wasn’t able to remove your sense of humor. I thought he was up to the task,” I responded dryly.
Isaiah stops moving behind me, and I turn to see what’s up with him.
“Did you just tell a joke? You never joke. You don’t laugh, and I’m betting you don’t even smile underneath that helmet,” Isaiah exclaimed.
“You must have misheard me then,” I said, continuing forward to the lab staircase.
Isaiah trails right behind me as we descend the multiple floors of stairs. A little show of humor will do a lot to strengthen our bond and his loyalty. I am glad I skipped cardio this morning as we finally hit the bottom of the base. I punch the code into the door, and the two of us enter the lab. Kai is over at his drone workshop area, tinkering away at something that looks almost like an oversized rat with a blender for a mouth.
“How goes it, doctor?”
He doesn’t respond, instead continuing to work on the drone. Whatever he’s doing is sending sparks everywhere as he works on the motherboard. I walk over to one of the office chairs and sit down while Isaiah and I wait for Kai to be finished.
“How many rats did you two trap?” I asked.
“There were twenty-four total, but five of them were younger, so we left them. Didn’t wanna piss off V,” he answered.
“Twenty is a good number to work with. Your next assignment is some monster-hunting. Carapace, Phantasmo, and Big Phish all suffer from similiar conditions as you once did. Their Trigger Events all have had the effect of making them monstrous. You can handle this however you’d like,” I said.
If he wants to recruit them, kill them, or have me cure them, I don’t care. I just need their powers.
“What if I wanna give them the same chance you gave me?”
“Are you asking me because you want to or because you want to know my answer?” I asked him.
“Does it matter?”
“I suppose it doesn’t. I do not particularly care either way. If you can make use of them then I won’t begrudge you getting minions. Vivienne already has some.”
“Those drug-pushing gangsters? No, I’m thinking more like security. If those guys are like me, they’ll be grateful enough to be fixed, let alone get a job. It’ll be a little pet project for me. And if it doesn’t pan out, I’ll bury them myself,” Isaiah said.
“Sounds like a plan. But I’m leaving it all up to you; I have enough on my-”
“OH. When did you two get here?” Kai asked, interrupting our conversation.
“We’ve been here for a while. You were in a daze, so I let you be,” I answered.
“Thank you. Sometimes, my brain is flooded with inspiration, and I have to stop whatever I’m doing to focus on realizing the image in my brain. You’re here to check on Subject Zero?”
“Yes. How is Zero doing?”
“She’s fine. Confused about her new powers and what’s happening. The drugs are finally out of her system, so while lucidity is up, withdrawal is on the horizon for her. Should I expect some changes to her mood around then?” Kai asked.
What a clever way to ask without alerting Isaiah. His tact is a welcome surprise.
“She may suffer from a lack of interest or be more curious about watching others due to withdrawal. Keep a close eye on her. Has she shown signs of combining powers yet?”
Isaiah perks up when I mention combining. It is quite a juicy revelation, so I understand his reaction.
“No, so far, she has only been using them separately. I will definitely be on the lookout for any changes she experiences. She has continued to try and make contact despite having no success so far.”
“That’s fine. Tell me about the new volunteers.”
“Subjects One through Nineteen are a wide gambit of ages, races, and health. The youngest one we have is Subject Six, a seventeen-year-old male, and the oldest is Subject Thirteen, an eighty-year-old woman. Almost all of them had some sort of sickness or unresolved injury, and I used a lot of my collection to repair them,” Kai said pointedly.
“Once we are set up in Quinstin, I will work on helping you restock your TinkerTech supply,” I said.
“Do either of you have a connection to the Merchants?” Isaiah asked.
“The what?” I asked.
“No. You need to know someone who knows someone just to vouch for you. Then, you have to pass a rigorous background check, and then you have an in-person meeting with a Broker. You have to bring something that the Merchants will want to buy, and even after all of that, you can still get blacklisted without being notified. I’ve never had something to sell that they’d even want,” Kai said.
What are the Merchants? Being busy is no excuse for my continued ignorance about the world of Capes and Cowls. I am walking a fine line between looking relatable and seeming incompetent if I admit that I know nothing about this group.
“This is the first time I’ve heard about the Merchants. Based on context clues, I’m assuming they are a large commerce group of some sort,” I said.
“How do you not know about the Merchants?” Kai asked.
“Because I triggered less than three months ago, and before that, I knew nothing about Nuevohumans beyond the basics,” I answered honestly.
Nothing compels me to tell them this. It is a calculated risk to deepen their respect and loyalty to me. There is a slight chance it will have the opposite effect.
“You’re a freaking rookie? I’ll be honest: I assumed we were your second or third attempt at this whole company idea, and you had killed the previous iterations to silence them and keep your secrets,” Kai said.
“I am sorry to disappoint you, doctor, but this is my first rodeo. These Merchants sound interesting. Tell me about them.”
“They’re a decentralized group of buyers and sellers that operate in cells inside major cities all over the place. Their power structure and leadership are a complete secret. Their on-the-ground operations are handled by people called Brokers who will arrange meetings to buy, sell, and deliver items. They toe the neutrality line perfectly; they don’t get involved or pick sides,” Kai said.
“True neutrality isn’t actually possible. Refusal to take a side will eventually be seen as choosing one. And once you’ve been designated an enemy, then you are pulled into the conflict one way or another,” I countered.
“That’s true unless you have a monopoly on something that both sides need,” Isaiah said.
“Don’t leave me in suspense,” I said dryly. There is nothing worse than someone who holds information back just to create tension.
“Well, if you insist, they are the only suppliers of Hyperweave. The Heroes’ Union needs it for its members’ costumes, and therefore, they don’t attempt to shut the organization down. They still will shut down cells and arrest members if they’re caught selling contraband, but they are always tried as individuals, never as part of the group,” Isaiah responded.
“Do either of you know how to get in contact with a Broker?” I asked.
“Veritas had a connection with a Broker, but that’s obviously not an option,” Isaiah remarked.
I had you kill her to prove your loyalty. I do not believe I made the wrong decision, but my insistence on murdering witnesses is an obstacle of its own.
“Nope,” Kai answered.
“We can table it until the next board meeting. For now, I want to get started on testing. Let’s go with the oldest and youngest to see if age affects anything,” I said.
“I’ll get them up here in a minute. Have you decided which powers to give them?” Kai asked.
“Yes. For the older woman, I’ll be giving her Ciggs and Lee Daeshim’s powers. Smoke Alter and electricity Manipulator. Be careful with this one. She’ll be able to absorb electricity and transform into a smoke cloud. Will the cell be able to hold her?”
“I don’t see why not. I will have to shut off the power to Subject Thirteen’s cell to prevent her from draining the base. I can have the vents in her room automatically shut if they detect smoke and have the power supply moved out of her room. Just give me a few to get the cell ready,” Kai said, tapping away on his tablet.
The table drone comes up, holding an unconscious elderly black woman. She's missing a few fingers on her left hand; her skin is tough and dry from weathering the elements outside for so long. She's wearing the outfit Kai made for the subjects and sleeping peacefully. I begin the transfer while Kai makes the adjustments to her cell. I finish slightly after him, and the drone takes her away. A second table drone comes up with a guy who could've been in my graduating class. His hair is buzzed down to his skull, and I see faint bruises underneath the brown shirt that’s a little too big for his frame. He’s short, around 5’7, and his tan skin is marred with healed scars. Maybe he is someone who had a tough life. The scars are faint but present, likely years old. It could be a sign of an abusive household. If he had stayed, he might have naturally triggered.
“I’ll be giving him Punch’s kinetic blast power and Murmur’s power as well. Obviously, you both understand the importance of keeping this a secret from certain parties,” I said, finishing up the transfer.
Both men nod their assent.
“Isaiah, you have your orders, and Kai, just text me updates on any changes. I have some planning to do,” I said, leaving the two of them behind.