August 2020
It had been two years since the first anomalies appeared. One year, nine months since Assistant Director Leckford had become Director for the newly formed Bureau of Anomaly Regulation at the young age of thirty. One year, four months, two days since the Bureau had gone public about the first powered individuals, and three months to the day since Leckford’s last day off.
He liked his job, he was good at it, but Maggie had insisted that he take a personal day, and he’d conceded. Now he was at a bar, surrounded by the type of men that drink on a Thursday afternoon. There was only one bartender, a fit young man with a slight Nigerian accent wearing a blue polo.
Above and behind the bartender, some mid-afternoon talk show played on several screens, flanking an analog clock that didn’t match the rest of the bar’s modern dark wood aesthetic. Once he noticed it, Leckford couldn’t help but see the second hand ticking in his periphery.
Tick. It showed the time as just after 1pm.
Tick.
Maggie’s afternoon email would be hitting Leckford’s inbox soon, if it hadn’t already.
Tick.
He took another swig of too-cold beer as his phone burned a hole in his pocket.
Tick. He tipped back the last drops, then motioned for another.
Logically, there wasn’t much to be worried about. As much as the news tried to frame them as an imminent threat, the anomalies had done little to impact the world since their appearance. A new anomaly appearing each week or so sounded ominous, but that was a world-wide statistic. The bureau had recorded only three in the states in the last six months. With the biggest not exceeding the size of a football field and the BAR setting up a perimeter around known anomalies, the chances of stumbling into one on accident was next to zero.
As the oft-stated fact went, vending machines were more dangerous.
That was not to say Leckford’s job was easy. Whenever an anomaly was discovered there were people to notify, personnel to deploy, and funds to allocate, all while re-assuring the public and fellow government officials. When there wasn’t a new one, Leckford spent his days fielding requests from a dozen organizations to study the anomalies. There had been a months-long backlog even before the advent of powered individuals increased interest a hundredfold. Currently, NASA and the Air Force were in a particularly heated bidding war to study one of the newer anomalies, an old warehouse with inverted gravity.
At least it brought in funding.
Tick.
The bartender set down another beer, and Leckford drained the first third.
Tick.
He pulled out his phone. No new messages. No disasters, probably.
He resisted the urge to open his email, even knowing there would be several dozen unread that needed his attention. Instead, he pocketed the phone and looked up at the talk show. It was your typical fair. Two overly done-up ladies in dresses as tight as the bartender’s shirt were talking about world events as if they were the hottest celebrity gossip, and the event of the day seemed to be Firestar.
She was the newest powered individual to join the bureau, and already she was a fan favorite. Her power was flashy, and she was a 20-something former athlete with a magnetic smile. The baker’s dozen of powered individuals were little more than PR figureheads, and it had been a pleasant surprise to get one so naturally gifted at working a crowd. In many ways, she was what the show hosts wanted to be.
Tick.
The TVs were muted, but Leckford read the subtitles as Firestar told the story of the day she gained her power. It was rather graphic, and she hinted at the worst of it while keeping it TV appropriate. A slight tremble in her voice, a pause, then slowly evolving into determination and a smile. A flawless delivery.
And a complete lie, of course.
Leckford watched, sipping his beer and pointedly refusing to check his phone, as the hosts discussed female empowerment and how nice it was to have the second woman and first woman of color join the League. As a former comic book geek, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the name. The public loved it, but it was a terrible comparison. All but three of them would be a complete liability in a firefight. Hell, Buckler’s power began and ended with a forcefield slightly larger than a car tire.
Superman, these people were not.
That didn’t stop merchandising, though. The BAR marketing team was less than a year old and already pulling in enough money to cover a third of the bureau’s budget. After the new toy line, Leckford had suspicions that the fraction would increase to half. As much as organizing PR events and coaching the members in proper behavior was a chore, it was a lucrative one.
Others had clearly seen the potential as well. Officially, the League sold posters in twenty languages. The head of marketing had a collection of fakes that covered fifty-seven. The Brazilian government had yet to confirm the existence of a single domestic powered individual, but merchandise existed for almost two dozen. Even the month-old Chinese national team, the Zhengfu-Shi, had a burgeoning merchandise empire.
Tick. Leckford was waiting on beer four when the front door of the bar opened.
The man hadn’t changed since the last time Leckford had seen him. He was slightly shorter than Leckford, but with broad shoulders and a wild tangle of curls. The outside light bounced on and through his hair, giving his head a yellow-orange halo for a moment before the door closed. He sidled up to the bar and, as his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw Leckford staring at him.
A second passed before Leckford spoke, “Travis. It’s… been a while.”
Travis nodded, “Twenty-three months.”
“That long already? How have you been?”
Travis signaled the bartender to order a drink. He turned back and sighed. Was his chest bigger? He put on a polite smile and said, “I’ve been alright. I saw that you got promoted to Director. Congratulations. I know you worked hard for it.”
Was there an edge to that? Leckford couldn’t help but notice the two seats between them.
“Thank you. It’s challenging but very rewarding. Is your photography business still growing?”
The bartender placed Travis’s drink down. He still drank whiskey, apparently.
“Actually, I gave up on that over a year ago. I work in a graphic design company now. We actually do some work with the League every now and again.”
Leckford shifted on the stool, “I’m sorry to hear that. Which company do you work with? We’ve already assigned most of Firestar’s team, but when another hero shows up, I can recommend you for the job.”
Travis shook his head, “It’s fine Daniel. We’ve been broken up for almost two years. You don’t owe me anything.” Leckford knew he was right, but it still hurt to hear. They both sipped in silence while the hosts jabbered silently on screen.
Eventually it was Leckford that broke the silence, “So what brings you here on a Thursday?”
“A late lunch. You?”
Leckford heard himself reply, “The same for me.”
A quirked eyebrow and genuine smile from Travis showed that he’d fooled neither of them.
“My work is ten minutes from here, and the bureau is fifteen minutes from that. You’re not even wearing a suit. This is definitely not your lunch break.”
Leckford shrugged, “I took a personal day.”
Travis’s jaw dropped in mock surprise, “Daniel Leckford? Taking a personal day? I knew we were living in strange times, but I didn’t know it was this bizarre!”
Leckford chuckled, “I’ll have you know, I’ve been working on my work-life balance. The world won’t end if I take a day off on occasion.”
Another smile.
“Glad to hear it. Mind if I sit?” Travis was indicating the chair next to Leckford.
“Of course not.”
Leckford couldn’t help but notice Travis’s arm brush his.
Both men situated, emails temporarily forgotten, Leckford felt himself start to relax. He gave Travis a nudge and said, “So tell me, what have you been up to these past few years?”
They told each other, interspersed with cheesy fries and past stories. The story of nervous Daniel worrying about introducing Travis to his family had been told a hundred times, but Daniel listened with rapt attention as Travis reminisced.
Daniel’s eyes danced across Travis’s face as he spoke. Along jaw, nose, and chestnut eyes. Even chancing a glance at his arms when Travis was lost in thought.
He didn’t even notice the minute hand running around the analog clock. He was snapped out of the haze only when Travis threw back the rest of his drink and settled his tab with the bartender.
“Sorry to have to leave, but I have to get back. I’m already late as is.”
Leckford stood up as the bartender gave Travis his change, once again all too aware of the phone in his pocket.
“Is there any chance you’re free this weekend?”
He could see the words give Travis pause.
Travis replied, “Are you saying that you’re free this weekend?”
Leckford’s brain spun. The weekend was usually lighter, and he didn’t technically have to go in. Maggie could probably shift all the meetings to Monday, or at least Sunday afternoon.
He tried to keep his smile natural, “Of course. I told you, I’ve developed a much better balance. Would you like to grab lunch on Saturday?”
Travis eyed him up and smiled, “Ya. I’d like that. Glad I ran into you.”
Leckford felt a flutter, “I’m glad to see you, too. I’ll call you sometime tonight. Same number?”
“Same as always.”
Travis turned and headed out the front door, taking the atmosphere with him.
Tick.
Leckford shuffled in place, before deciding to sit back down at the bar.
Tick. His fingers danced on the edge as he looked around.
The talk show had been replaced by golf, and the bar patrons were just as uninteresting.
Tick.
He pulled out his phone, clicking on the email notification to open the app. Sure enough, thirty-three unread emails and counting. A cursory glance showed nothing too dire, so he ignored them. Maggie would need to know to free up his Saturday.
It was a quick email to type, and after hitting send Leckford set the phone face down on the bar.
He exhaled slowly and looked around again.
Tick. Nothing new.
A thought crossed his mind and he checked his phone calendar. Three meetings.
That was how many Maggie would have to reschedule.
Not too bad. Tick.
One of them was a meeting about Galestrom’s west coast press tour. He’d seen three emails about that. Maybe he could cancel the meeting entirely if he got on top of it now. Besides, he had nothing else to do this afternoon and the phone was already in his hand.
Using it to access his work computer, he read the first email and began typing a response.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Leckford was in his suit by 5:30 AM on Friday, in his office by 6:15 AM. 6:20, if he had to wait for building security to get situated. Besides them, he was alone. The best time of day.
Many people would find the abandoned space unsettling. Even if everyone were tidy like him, there was a natural mess that came with hundreds of people working in close proximity, which only served to accentuate the quiet. Bubbling from the coffee machine was the only disturbance.
The dim light of his computer was glowing softly as Leckford entered, performing its scheduled boot-up. He had responded to the most pressing emails yesterday, and he spent a serene hour replying to the rest, including three new emails he’d received overnight.
With the last one sent, Leckford had a moment to himself. His office was large, with a city overlook on two sides and a floor-to-ceiling window that let him see and be seen by the rest of the office, a sleek curtain for privacy. To his left, the only solid wall had two rows of framed portraits of the League, including a large graphic poster as the centerpiece. Maggie had already hung the newest addition, Firestar’s portrait starting a new row above the other two.
Leckford refilled on coffee, the mug warming his hands as the rest of the office trickled in. He could never pinpoint the moment, but the quiet calm was replaced with the bustle of young professionals and the din of ringing phones.
Among the early arrivals, a woman with curled hair and a deep red lip strode to the desk just outside his office. There was no better verb for it. Maggie was large, as tall as Leckford himself and definitely several pounds heavier. Hers were not steps, but strides.
Everything about her was big, from her sunglasses to her coffee to her earrings. Even the black belt cinching her midsection was as wide as her hand. She had the kind of hourglass figure that came not from a thin waist, but from wide hips and shoulders to match, and every action had a purpose.
Leckford walked to the door to greet her, as she swung her over-sized purse into her desk.
“Good morning Director Leckford. How was our day off?” She unpacked as she talked.
Leckford sipped. “It was very relaxing Maggie. How was the office while I was gone?”
She replied, “Can’t say it was much different. Though the strangest thing happened.”
“Oh?”
She tapped a few keys to start up her computer. Red acrylics to compliment today’s eye makeup.
“The morning was just peachy, but in the afternoon someone was replying to your emails. It couldn’t have been you, of course, as I explicitly told you to take the day off.”
Leckford smiled, “That is strange indeed.”
She pushed her sunglasses down to stare at him. Her lips quirked.
Leckford said, “Of course, we’ll have to notify the IT department. Someone hacking my account is a serious breach of security.”
Maggie smiled, “I’ll notify them immediately. By the way, I’ve rescheduled the PR meeting to 9.”
Nodding acknowledgement, Leckford retreated to his office.
As meetings went, this was a low-key one. It was held just down the hall, between himself, the head of PR, Galestrom and Firestar. Davidson, the head of PR, had a thick but well-kept beard and constantly wore a pale blue suit that hugged his thin frame nicely. He had one of those faces that stayed attractive, even as his hairline began to recede.
He started the meeting with a brief overview. The two heroes were going to do a press tour of the major east coast cities, with meet-and-greets for area schools.
They were cleared for minor displays of their power by local law enforcement, but Davidson reminded them that they were to get clear at the first sign of trouble. After the last incident, it wasn’t surprising that his stare lingered on Galestrom for a moment to drive the point home.
“Remember,” Leckford added, for Firestar’s benefit, “you’re retreating only because law enforcement asked you to. If there is trouble, try to look conflicted about backing off.”
Firestar shifted in her seat. Both of the heroes were in costume, and for her that was a white body suit with flaring frills around wrists, ankles and a plunging neckline. White eye makeup and a thin sparkling belt completed the look. Inspired by the 70s fashion revival that Davidson assured Leckford was taking place, it was the farthest departure from the traditional superhero aesthetic so far.
After a pause, she spoke up, “Um, exactly how likely is trouble?”
Davidson answered, “Incredibly unlikely. You have nothing to worry about. Polls show nearly 80% of the public has positive or strongly positive views on the League, with only 8% being negative. We just go over this before every public event.”
Galestrom, decked out in a paneled suit reminiscent of the caped crusaders of old, nodded agreement. He turned to Firestar, “There’s nothing to worry about. The worst injury I’ve gotten was a sprained mouth.”
Her brow creases slightly, “Um… a sprained mouth?”
He smiled wide, “From smiling too much.”
She nodded, as if unsure how to respond, “Oh. Got it.”
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“Anyways,” said Davidson, “Moving on to the subject of powers, Galestrom, as always you’re not cleared for flight above one hundred feet. We’ll have the blue/gold confetti at each event, but try not to spread it so far this time. Try to keep the wind contained, and help with clean-up if you can.”
After receiving a nod he turned to the heroine, “Firestar, just be careful. I’ve made sure that each location has pavement nearby, so that you don’t leave scorch marks on grass. You know your power better than I do, but be cautious. We don’t need you burning the public.”
Firestar began nodding gently even before he finished.
“Of course. You have nothing to worry about.”
Davidson checked over his notes, briefly outlining the rest of the tour’s agenda, with Leckford jumping in to ask the occasional question about recent changes. As the meeting concluded, Davidson asked if anyone had any final questions.
Firestar raised her hand, “I’m just curious, Director. About how we got our powers.”
Two sets of eyes darted around the room.
Leckford responded, “Ah. One moment, please.” He walked to the door, opening it to check that no one was nearby, before closing and locking it.
He turned back toward the now visibly nervous woman. “Please, continue.”
She swallowed, then said, “So, you all know where people think powers come from, right?”
Returning to his seat, Leckford replied, “If you’re talking about the Right Place/Right Time hypothesis, then yes, I’m familiar.”
Firestar shifted again, “Right, well, we know that it can happen in established anomalies too.” She gestured at Galestrom, who looked embarrassed, “We were talking and both of us were definitely in an established anomaly when we got our powers. And the bureau has all our files and statements. Didn’t you make the connection?”
The question was a mixture of accusation and befuddlement, erring on the side of the latter. Leckford let it hang in the air while he took a moment. Firestar looked between him and Davidson, but Davidson was deferring to him.
Leckford inhaled slowly and said, “Firestar. I’ve read your file before, but could you refresh me? Tell me what happened the day you got your powers. You walked into a burning house, correct?”
“In a sense, yes. I had started as a realtor and was supposed to inspect a property. When I walked in, a dozen flames in as many colors sprang up around the living room. Honestly, it was both beautiful and terrifying.” Leckford had to admire her showmanship. Even now she was adding flourishes.
“I was going to leave,” she continued, “But then I saw a gem the size of a baseball on the table. I grabbed it, but then saw another, and another. I realized the flames weren’t giving off as much heat or smoke as they should, and before I knew it I had eight of these massive gemstones.”
Leckford nodded, “And then?”
“Not much, after that. The gems became a floating, glowing sphere. I touched it, the fires disappeared, and I had powers.” She finished with a shrug, overly casual.
“That definitely sounds like an established anomaly,” Leckford said, raising his eyebrows, “And you would have us tell the public that they can get powers from established anomalies?”
Another shrug, “I don’t see why not.” So casual.
Leckford glanced to the side. “And what do you think of this idea, Galestrom?”
The male hero started, “Well, um, ya. I think Firestar’s got a good point. People need to know not to panic if they find themselves in an anomaly. Letting them know we all survived anomalies would be helpful, I think. Knowledge is power, and all that.”
“Indeed.” Leckford paused. “Galestrom, do you remember why we had to cut the League launch event short?”
The hero’s brow furrowed, “Um, if I recall, people were jostling too much to reach the front. Me flying overhead helped some, but the police were still worried someone would get crushed.” As Galestrom spoke, Leckford looked over at Davidson, who was leaning on the table. They’d discussed this before at length.
When Galestrom finished, Leckford leaned forward and laced his fingers.
“Correct. Four people went to the hospital, and fifty-three reported minor injuries. Just from people rushing to get a chance to see you.” Leckford leveled a stony gaze at the two heroes. “Now imagine what people would do for the chance to be you. There would be riots at every exclusion zone in the world.”
As he spoke, he could see the dawning realization on the two costumed individuals, “We still don’t know how you got powers from the anomalies, or even if all anomalies can grant powers. How many people would wander into the Pierre anomaly and starve, just hoping they’d get abilities? Or willingly fry in the Nevada’s zone? It would be deaths in the thousands as a best case scenario.”
The silence that followed his prediction hung in the air. The heroes shared a look, and he and Davidson did the same. Davidson exhaled and finally broke the silence.
“Obviously, this isn’t something we can keep quiet forever. As long as new anomalies keep appearing, this will come out eventually. We just need time to figure out a solution. You heroes all keeping to your stories will help buy us that.”
Firestar recovered first. She looked between Leckford and Davidson and swallowed, “Alright, if that’s what you think is best. I’ll stick with the script.”
After a moment, Galestrom voiced his agreement. He’d known parts of this before, but the full magnitude must have just hit him. A few months later than Leckford would have hoped.
Both heroes stood straighter as the meeting concluded and everyone parted ways. Davidson seemed pleased at how everything had shaken out, and Leckford had to agree. It had been an inevitable discussion, but it could have gone much worse.
On his way back to his office, Leckford checked his phone and noticed a notification. A text next to a curly-haired profile picture.
Good day at work. I was thinking Milk & Honey at noon. Thoughts?
Of course he’d chosen an old favorite. Leckford smiled and typed a reply.
He hadn’t realized how much he missed reading these. That reminded him, he had to finalize the schedule for his half-day tomorrow. He could squeeze a fourth meeting in if Maggie reminded the other three to keep to their time slot.
As he rounded the corner, he saw the woman in question gesture, “Your 10:05 is in your office.”
* * * * * * * * * * * *
He worked late, as always, but convinced himself to leave just a bit early to squeeze in a workout at the gym. He wouldn’t be able to fit it in before lunch tomorrow, so this would have to do.
Back at his apartment, Leckford threw together a salad, more out of a need to use the vegetables than any craving, paired with a protein bar from the gym’s vending machine. After flipping through the news, including several segments rehashing the Firestar interview, he called it an early night.
He had a pleasant dream, though one he couldn’t recall, but all too soon was ripped awake by an alarm. A groggy moment passed as he pushed himself up, wondering if he’d changed the alarm clock’s tone accidentally. Only after rubbing the sleep out of his eyes did he realize the ringing was coming from his phone.
Glancing at the screen sent a pit to his stomach. The CIA didn’t call at 3 AM for good news. The agent on the other end explained the situation. Leckford listened intently, confirmed, then hung up.
There was an ongoing situation in Hong Kong. The Zhengfu-Shi were actively involved.
He was in his suit in three minutes and out the door in four. No coffee. Pure adrenaline would serve just fine. Adrenaline and one other feeling. A very rare feeling.
While driving to the provided address, Leckford scrolled on his phone. US news was still asleep, but he found pictures and video flooding the internet regardless. Personally, Leckford despised distracted drivers, but the roads were mostly abandoned this early. When the call came in, he had it to his ear before the first ring ended.
The building was situated at the end of an access road, fenced in barbed wire. He got through the checkpoint and was directed to the main operations room. He’d been to two others like it in the past two years, but he still felt that bolt of excitement upon seeing the big monitor facing the rows of agents.
Each agent was typing furiously, many with a headset were multi-tasking, and a mixture of English and several Asian languages spun through the air. He wasn’t good enough to pick out which ones.
The top left of the screen held a freeze frame of a creature that could dwarf a schoolbus.
At the back of the room, directly opposite the wall-sized screen, was an alcove for those in charge. They had their own bank of screens, and turned toward him as he approached. He greeted Deputy Director Bishop and was introduced to the others as they explained the situation.
An hour ago, a ripple had passed through Hong Kong, emanating from somewhere within the city. Five minutes later, a two-story creature had been spotted in the shipyards. The Zhengfu-Shi had mobilized in response. As of ten minutes ago, the second phone call to him, it was dead.
Leckford frowned, “What is it?”
Agent Sullivan, as he’d been introduced, replied, “We’re not sure. We can confirm the creature had six legs and an increased durability, but we still don’t know.” As he spoke, he was pulling up reference images, captured by frightened civilians. He seemed fascinated, back to the other agents.
Sullivan continued, “It was faster than we’d expect, for something that size. And we think it’s probably quite light as well. It climbed several buildings that should have crumbled from the weight of something like that. From the shots we saw, the head seems to mix reptilian and canid features with...”
He trailed off and turned as Leckford laid a hand on his shoulder.
Leckford said, “That’s great, but not what I was asking.” He turned to look at Bishop.
“I struggle to believe I was called here just because of a monster attack. It’s shocking, no doubt, but it poses no threat to us and I’m not called in for every dangerous international anomaly. With the recent reports from China the past few weeks, I’m guessing there’s more to this.”
The exchanged glances among the others confirmed his suspicions.
Deputy Director Bishop motioned another agent forward. Vasquez, maybe? She plugged a USB into the side of the monitor and began extracting video files. The first few were almost too shaky to make sense of.
The Zhengfu-Shi, apparently Chinese for ‘Conquering Lions’, had spandex-like outfits very reminiscent of the cape-less superheroes on Saturday morning cartoons, with each member getting a unique signature color. Original pitches for the League had had something similar, but Davidson had vetoed it. Too difficult to add new members, he’d said. Leckford had had to agree. That didn’t mean the design was awful.
Even when the video was violently shaking, the Zhengfu-Shi stood out against the dull concrete backdrop as vibrant swatches of color. As Vasquez found more stable recordings of the fighting, she began to explain. Leckford tuned her out. She might be the resident power expert, but he was already leaping far ahead as he watched everything unfold.
The creature, apparently dubbed eCHNA-001, was in an open area, on a 6-lane road that ran under a walkway. A Ferris wheel stood in the background, the sun overhead. It had three pairs of splayed legs, each with five toes radiating out. It had a rough-looking hide. The angle didn’t allow Leckford to see the head, but the back end of the creature ended not with a tail, but rather a nub. Just... six feet of round rough body. Its shoulders and back stood twice as high as the cars, and Vasquez had said they estimated it to be thirty feet long. Personally, Leckford thought that might be too conservative.
The cameraman appeared to be hiding behind a palm tree to the side and behind it, and they ducked back reflexively as a claw-tipped foot hoisted the creature up and over a car, crushing it in the process. The sight of distant, fleeing people drove home the bravery, or stupidity, or this guy.
The sound like a whip crack and a flurry of Chinese drew the camera around, revealing four Zhengfu-Shi lining up a few meters back, dressed in yellow, orange, lime, and purple, near-identical designs except for the color scheme.
They wore elastic body suits of their designated color, with angular shapes at shoulders and hands and the stars of their national flag on the breast. A lion helmet, again of their designated color, completely enveloped their heads, with a mane design curling back along the sides. They looked through a reflective visor, the “mouth” of the lion, which was tinted slightly to match the rest of the costume. And they were all male, apparently.
As it was, they were hard to look at. The main colors of these four were bright yellow, orange, lime, and purple, and the accenting shapes and stars were all in equally-bright white. If the yellow and lime hadn’t been so offensively garish, or if the cameraman hadn’t been so close, it would have been hard to notice the white at all.
There were no subtitles, but it was clear that Lime was urging the cameraman to get to safety. The camera was momentarily pointed at nothing as he (or she), complied.
Just as the camera refocused, now far enough back that Lime probably wouldn’t notice, Purple slapped a nearby car, crackling energy dancing across it. As Leckford watched, Purple’s body began to elongate upwards, costume and body bleeding together.
The upper half stretched until he was eye level with the walkway and his widening shoulders and back made him dangerously top-heavy. His face wasn’t visible from behind, but the mane of the helmet spun out wildly, the drawing quickly becoming a tangle of curls that floated as if underwater.
The bottom half spread like roots of a tree. His legs fused together before splitting a dozen ways. The end result was roughly hourglass-shaped, with a too-large top and a squashed base. The white of the gloves, the only white visible from the back, had branched and climbed partially up the spindly arms.
His teammates edged sideways, away from the longest roots. Even as the crackling energy caused the car to buckle, metal screaming under whatever pressure it was applying, they stared the monster down. The sound had drawn its attention.
It looked back, its car-sized head swinging on a neck more flexible than Leckford had expected. Bulging eyes darted about, independent of one another. The ears were much the same, shaggy in a way that curiously contrasted a mostly hairless body. Leckford already knew every detail of this video would be analyzed countless times today, but what probably drew the most attention in the moment were the vicious teeth.
Even with the camera a football-field away, they were visible. Spike-like and angled enough that they probably weren’t useful for chewing; Leckford doubted it could even fully close its mouth. He did not doubt that it could kill.
The creature began crawling back down the road, head kept unerringly leveled at the heroes as its body was pulled around and over the abandoned cars. It was big enough that even going slow it seemed to barrel down the road. The heroes only had a few seconds to brace. Then they were fighting to the death.
Leckford frowned as he watched. He understood why he’d been called in.
The questions from the others showed that they did not.
All except Bishop. The two shared a knowing look as Vasquez answered a question about political fallout. The others were relieved when they heard China had announced that the creature was killed and, to calm public nerves, had also announced they’d found a way to nullify their anomalies. Could that solution be used on the US anomalies? Another worried stare.
He’d have preferred to consult with Davidson immediately, but the next hour saw him explaining the likely capabilities and limitations of the Zhengfu-Shi’s powers as he saw them. Any other time, his inner geek would have been thrilled to have such a captive audience. As it stood, he couldn’t stop glancing at the clock in the corner of every screen as he answered, for the third time in as many minutes, a question anyone who paid the slightest bit of attention would know.
No, as far as we know, powers don’t grow or change. Tick.
Yes, a person gets only a single power. Tick.
No, they aren’t transferable. Tick.
Leckford knew he was the expert here, but the fact that even the basics eluded the people in charge of national security concerned him. Each moment he was stuck here, that rare feeling faded.
The dashboard clock read almost 6AM by the time he started his car. A USB tucked into his coat pocket contained all the need-to-know information, and he sent a message to those who needed to know. Gravel flew as tires spun off the access road and onto the highway as he typed.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Curtain pulled. Windows darkened. Only Davidson, head researcher Beuker, and himself were in Leckford’s office. The video was projected on the wall, pictures removed and relegated to the corner. The mood was grim.
On screen, the creature lunged toward the heroes, a single leap halving the distance. The orange Zhengfu-Shi ran to meet it, and Leckford saw Beuker shift uncomfortably, no doubt expecting the poor man to be ripped apart. He’d done the same.
However, as the monster readied to pounce, Orange let out a roar. The air shimmered around and to the sides of him, and human silhouettes began charging out. Dozens of them. Each silhouette was outlined in orange-red motes of light, concentrating around folds. Dazzling, they moved too smoothly to be human as they bounded next to and through one another toward the creature.
The tide of silhouettes surprised the creature just as much as it surprised Beuker, and it reeled back. Beuker herself would have sloshed coffee onto the rug had the cup not been empty.
Two front paws as wide as minivans smashed down into the orange charge, obliterating the first images. Motes spiraled away like fireflies.
Death, however, didn’t worry the survivors, and the legs that crushed their comrades became handholds for the silhouettes that remained. Where bony growths made good handholds, the glowing outlines of multiple hands intersected. The creature clawed and bit, silhouettes dissolving until the struggle was suffused in a cloud of orange lights.
Orange’s voice grew ragged, and as the scream died the motes faded from existence. The creature had no moment to rest. The vehicle crackling with purple energy, front crushed flat, hurtled into its exposed chest, wedging in the armpit of the front left leg. It bellowed, high-pitched, and dropped to five legs.
The three mobile heroes took the opening to reorient, Yellow and Orange running off to the left as Lime took point. Purple’s gnarled form just swayed in place. Energy crackled between one of the longer roots and an abandoned semi. The sound of rending metal began again.
As alien as the creature was, fury was clearly its dominant emotion now. Injured, it lunged again and Lime rocketed to meet it. His power turned him into something like a grey meteor, and he slammed into the creature’s clavicle, eliciting another cry of pain. He reverted to a human dangerously close to the open maw. Kicking out, Lime used his power to rocket back and away. A new roar was summoning silhouettes to fight again.
Unfortunately, Lime shot out of frame behind the camera, and the last few panicked frames of the video made it obvious that he’d partially collapsed the walkway above and behind the cameraman.
As the video ended, the three stood in silence for a long minute. This was the fourth such video Leckford had shown them.
“They’re way too strong,” Beuker said. And she was right. Galestrom and Bonfire were the only League members that were even in the same ballpark. The other videos had confirmed that half of the Zhengfu-Shi had powers of a similar caliber.
Leckford didn’t need to spell out for them why that alone was a disaster. He didn’t make a habit of hiring idiots. Unfortunately, that also meant they could infer what came next. Davidson voiced the shared realization.
“This gets worse, doesn’t it.”
Leckford tapped his laptop, bringing up screen grabs from the video.
Purple’s hourglass form, Orange’s motes, and Lime’s meteor, all stacked up on the left.
The other two were silent as he pulled up accompanying pictures on the right. A forest filled with a violet mist, a field of orange fireflies, and a polished grey orb floating a dozen feet off the ground.
Leckford said, “As you may know, the Chinese government has recently been securing their anomalies and widening the surrounding exclusion zones. They even just announced a permanent fix for most of them. These pictures were taken months ago, before the lockdown, when the anomalies were initially discovered. These are anomalies aCHNA-002, aCHNA-004, and aCHNA-007, specifically.”
“How public is this?” David asked.
Leckford responded, “These photos were pulled from online forums discussing anomalies. The smallest has eight-hundred thousand members.” His heartbeat picked up slightly.
Davidson swore, only the second time Leckford had heard it, and loosened his tie. He unwrapped a cold breakfast sandwich and took a bite. Through a mouthful of egg, he swore again.
Beuker muttered a similar sentiment, leaning forward to put her head in her hands only to run the fingers back through her hair and straighten up. She stared down the images.
The parallels were all too obvious. They’d planned on telling the world within the next few years. Now they had a timeline of hours.
Davidson brusquely grabbed his suit jacket, finishing off the sandwich in two bites as Beuker gathered her own belongings. His sandwich wrapper and her cup were tossed into the bin. He said, “I’ll schedule a press briefing for Monday morning. As long as something’s on the books, a simple statement of concern should hold big news stations at bay until then.”
They were lucky it was a weekend.
“And if I can get permission from Firestar, my team should be able to use her power’s genesis as a base for a public study,” Beuker added, “It won’t be pretty, but if the rest of the heroes stick with their stories, it should at least cast doubt on all powers coming from anomalies.”
Her eyes met Leckford’s. Her voice was hard.
“This isn’t going to be enough.” His heart was racing now, and that rare feeling was back.
He nodded, “We’ll do what we can. I’m meeting with the President and his cabinet after this.”
“Then we won’t keep you.” Davidson rubbed residual crumbs from his beard as he waited for Leckford to turn off the projector. When all classified information was hidden, he smoothly opened the door and strolled away. For as much as the façade had cracked privately, Davidson’s public calm was unmatched.
Beuker snatched up another coffee from the mostly-untouched food before hurrying out. She was not nearly as collected, but that frown wasn’t an uncommon sight. Anyone who knew her well enough to pick out the apprehension would know to keep quiet.
As the steps retreated, Leckford could hear Maggie fielding calls through the open door.
“No, he’s in a meeting. I’m sorry, but that’s classified. Yes, I can take a message.”
Leckford glanced at the clock: 10:20. The meeting was in 55 minutes with only a 30 minute drive. The meeting itself would probably stretch until dinner, but he had a moment now. Leckford used it to bask in this oh-so-rare feeling.
It had only occurred twice before, when anomalies had been confirmed and when he, as Director, had met the first person with powers. There was no word for it. He doubted that enough people would ever experience it to even need a word. The thrill of a challenge, the dread of the unknown, and the knowledge that he was uniquely situated to control the outcome on a massive scale, all spun down and condensed into a vibration that coursed through his body. He wondered if this was how a gambler felt on a multi-million dollar hand.
Like a general on campaign, the situation brought Leckford no joy. He was not happy knowing that people were going to get hurt in the coming days, even if it was by their own stupidity and greed, but if this was a no-win scenario, only the best loss was acceptable. The feeling shivered at the thought, and Leckford felt as if he were floating. In the coming days this feeling would fade, which made it all the more sweet right now.
His desk buzzed. Or rather, a phone in his desk buzzed.
A new development? His heart pounded.
No. His work cellphone was darkened and silent in the drawer. It had just been her personal cell.
Just like that, the feeling died off. Not disappearing, but becoming a slow simmer. Its retreat pushed Leckford to move. Work cell, briefcase with laptop, USB safely tucked into zippered pocket. A quick check showed the cellphone at 43% battery; he’d have to charge it in the car if it was to survive the day.
After a second, he decided against bringing his personal cell. It would just slow him down going through security. Whoever it was could wait.
As he exited the office, the feeling boiled once again. Maggie, fielding another call, tried to get his attention, but he tapped his watch. She gave up as he backed away, scratching whatever message it was on a notepad. He’d see it when he got back.
With the feeling buoying him along, tiredness was an afterthought. His mind was a vivid painting of possibilities as the elevator descended. The next day would set the pace for the next week, which would set the pace for the next month and the years that followed. How would they brief the public? Would it be better to have the heroes there, or would they be implicated? What sort of system would be best to handle anomaly access, considering the likelihood of death or powers?
No, he was getting ahead of himself. He couldn’t let the forest distract him from the trees. He exhaled, and his heartbeat slowed ever so slightly. The meeting was at 11:15AM. His briefing should be done by noon, followed by two hours of strategy, if he didn’t have to deal with stupid questions. That should give him time to grab a quick bite before returning by 3PM to see what Davidson and Beuker had accomplished. As Leckford walked to his car he went over the brief in his head.
The next few hours were all that mattered.