2002-

Henry Harkness punched a man in the face as his helmet phone rang. He punched the

guy again before he answered the buzz. He didn’t want to be distracted while he was

talking.

“Hello?,” said Henry. He looked around for more people to punch. Most of the

combatants were down. He nodded to himself. It looked like the job was almost over.

“Henry,” said his wife, Martha June. “I’m heading to Sloane. The baby is on the

way.”

“That’s great.” Henry looked around. “I’m in Midtown South. I’ll meet you at the

hospital. Can you get there on your own? I can call Pablo to give you a lift.”

“I’m taking a taxi.” Martha grunted. “I’ll see you at the hospital.”

“I’m on my way, June.” Henry smiled under his mask. “I can get across town faster

than a taxi.”

“Don’t waste time, Henry.” Martha made another noise. “I don’t think I have long.”

“I’m on my way.” Henry didn’t cut the line. He wanted to be on the air in case his

wife needed to talk to him. “Net gun, both arms.”

He fired the special ammo at the masked men he had punched out. They were just

thugs trying to score a quick pay day raiding a jewelry store. He had spotted them on

his patrol. Then the punching had started. Now they would be waiting for a while as

the police tried to figure out how to cut them out of the cocoons he was leaving them

in so he could race across town.

Sloane Hospital for Women was situated up in the Heights. He was down below the

central part of Manhattan. He would have to move fast if he wanted to meet his wife

at the door of the maternity ward.

He had no doubt he could do it. Swinging above traffic gave him an advantage of the

traffic stuck on the ground. He could cut through the city on a straight line as long as

he avoided the Park. The lack of buildings would hamper his speed.

Martha June boarded a taxi in his ear. He heard her giving her destination over the

open line. He was glad she hadn’t hung up. He wanted to be with her as she rode

toward the hospital.

“Line gun, both arms.” Henry ran as the mechanisms changed out ammo for him.

“Plot straight line to phone signal, and Sloane Hospital for Women.”

He ran up a wall to get to a roof where he could start traversing the city. Running

across roofs was easily done, and his line guns would pull him across any space he

couldn’t jump.

Henry leaped across spaces, using glider wings and his line guns to cover distance.

Washington Heights and Sloane Medical Center was across the city from where he

was. A voice command turned on a directional locator that told him which way to go

to get to his destination faster.

Henry dropped on the roof of a building overlooking Central Park South. The park

didn’t have enough buildings to provide him a clear route. He looked for something

to shoot for on his left.

His helmet picked up a call for help. He thought about disregarding it. He had to get

to his wife’s side. That person could wait for someone else to help out.

He spotted a man running away from an elderly lady. The guy had a purse in hand as

he sprinted from the confrontation. He grimaced but he knew June would understand.

He jumped from the roof. He extended his wings under his arms to catch the air so he

drifted toward the street. He steered to follow the purse snatcher. He landed right

behind the guy. He selected for net gun and webbed the guy up before he could take

two more steps.

“I don’t have time for this.” Henry took the purse out of the guy’s hand. “You’re

lucky all you’re getting is a cocoon.”

Henry jogged back to where the old lady was picking herself up off the sidewalk. He

handed her the purse.

“Thank you, Mr. Bug.” She hung the purse over her arm. “Thank you for stopping

that thief.”

“I have to go.” Henry looked around. Everyone else on the sidewalk was not stopping

to ask if she needed a hand. “Are you going to all right until the police get here?”

“I’ll be fine.” She nodded. “I will be waiting here when they arrive.”

“Thank you.” Henry made the call. He spent a terse two minutes on the phone before

hanging up. “They say they are on the way.”

“They’ll probably take their time.” The old lady frowned. “It’s not like their criminal

can run away now.”

“Take care, ma’am.” Henry jogged down the street. His pointer told him to take a

right. All he had to do was head north to the Heights, then zero in on the hospital. He

needed to pick up speed. He wasn’t going to go fast on the ground.

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Henry took aim at a building that was five stories tall. His line gun shot a line to the

top of the third floor from his forearm launcher. It reeled him upwards as he ran

toward the building. He leaped and the line yanked him upward which swung him to

the face of the wall quicker. He touched down and pulled himself up toward the roof

with the suckers in his gloves and boots. He cut the line from the crushed anchor head

before climbing the rest of the way to the roof.

Henry ran across the roof, and jumped from the other side. He glided across the wide

space to the next building. His pointer kept him on course. He wished that he had jets

like the other Scarabs. Then he could just fly to the hospital.

He put that down as something to talk to Pablo about after he was done dealing with

this problem. How close was Martha June to the hospital? He had to get there before

she did.

He aimed for a tall hotel as he ran across the roofs. If he could get to that roof, he

could glide down close to where the hospital stood in the Heights. Then he could just

change clothes. Martha June had made him hide a set there when she had started

seeing her doctor.

The problem was that the further north he went, the shorter and more residential the

buildings were. His course seemed to be pointing through Columbia, and the two

schools on the other side of that. If he could clear the campus, he might be able to use

the buildings beyond that to help him along.

He landed on the front of the forty story building and started climbing. He gritted his

teeth at the time on his clock. Martha June should be at the hospital by now. He had

to speed things up.

He reached the roof of the building and ran across it to the other side. He could see

the Lake and the Loeb Boathouse off to his right. He picked out several theaters and

museums, but his mask’s vision enhancements wouldn’t let him see pass the edge of

Columbia, or most of Harlem. Gliding from this height had to be faster than using the

line gun to swing along the streets between buildings.

He jumped from the roof, deploying the flaps to catch the air. He sailed across the

city. It wasn’t as fast as Pablo, but he was making time. All he had to do was steer

where his compass pointed.

He passed the familiar outline of the various schools in a few minutes. Harlem drifted

by next. He checked his height. He was going to hit the ground close to St. Cat’s on

the other side of Sugar Hill.

That was close to where he wanted to be, but not close enough.

He would have to use the line gun to cross the ten blocks to the hospital. The retractor

could pull him across streets in a flash.

Henry worked to coax a few more feet of lift. He wanted to hit a building on the other

side of Trinity Cemetery. He didn’t want to have to run across the graveyard to get

to the other side where he could start swinging along the streets.

He saw the Church of the Intercession, and nodded. He was going to hit the

Broadway Housing Community. He could start swinging from there once he gained

the roof. He focused on that roof. He had to make it so he could keep going without

breaking his stride.

He hit and rolled to a stop. He jumped to his feet and ran to the north side of the

building. He took aim with his line gun and shot an anchor across the alley beyond

trees growing in the gap between buildings. He pulled himself over the alley and

headed for 156th street.

He swung across the gap to reach the building next to Tee-Sack. He ran across the

roof and leaped to the roof of Rao’s. He landed lightly and ran and jumped to the

building behind the restaurant. He ran across the roofs to Broadway. He could hitch

a ride if he was lucky.

All he needed was something moving north. Sloane was at 168th street. Eight blocks

should be okay.

Henry jumped from the roof of the Little Caesar’s to the roof of an oncoming truck.

His boots locked into place and he dropped down to grip with his gloves. The

compass fed him directions based on the clock as he rode up Broadway.

The truck started to turn right at 165th. Henry flung a line at a building on the other

side of the street. He retracted the line and swung over the traffic to a landing on the

wall. He started climbing. Once he was on the roof, he could jump across the barriers

to get where he needed to be.

Henry paused. The wall he clung to belonged to New York-Presbyterian Hospital.

Sloane was part of the hospital complex. He climbed to the roof. He had hidden his

clothes up there somewhere. All he had to do was find his bag, change, then head

down to the admissions desk and find his wife.

He looked across the roof. He hoped no one had found his bag. He didn’t want to go

down to the maternity ward in costume.

There were too many people who would be glad to do things to his family to get back

at him for what he did as a Scarab. Showing up in his mask would give them an

obvious handle to use against him.

He spotted his bag’s hiding spot after a minute. He jogged across the roof and jumped

down to another roof. He pulled the bag from an alcove underneath an air-conditioner

unit.

He opened his bag. He pulled his clothes out and inspected them. They looked okay

to wear. He quickly changed, stuffing his Scarab suit in the bag. He zipped the bag

up and slung it on his back. Now all he had to do was get inside the hospital from the

roof and go downstairs.

Henry looked around until he found a maintenance door. He picked the lock with a

set of instruments he kept around in case he had to break into a place without his suit.

Being able to punch through a lot of things was faster than picking locks, but when

you couldn’t do that, you had to do what you could.

He got through the door and climbed down to the top floor of the hospital. He stepped

out in the hall and walked down. No one seemed to pay him any attention as he

looked for an elevator. Once he found one, he pushed the button. He stepped in the

elevator and pushed the down button for the first floor.

Henry stepped out of the elevator and headed for the information desk. He needed to

know if Martha June was at the hospital yet.

“How’s it going?” Henry tried to smile at the receptionist in her sweater and scrub

combination. “My name is Henry Harkness. My wife went into labor and she was

supposed to be headed to Sloane. Has she arrived yet?”

“What’s her name and date of birth?” The receptionist lifted her claw-like hands to

type in the information.

Henry gave the information, spelling the last name for her. He wanted to jump over

the counter and type in the search himself.

“She’s still in transit, Mr. Harkness.” The receptionist looked up from her keyboard.

“If you hurry, you might be able to beat the ambulance.”

“Thank you.” Henry ran for the doors. He hit the sidewalk and ran down the block.

He paused at Fort Washington Avenue before running across the street. He followed

the signs as he headed toward 168th. He smiled when he saw the entrance.

He slowed down to a walk, triggering the doors so he could enter. He went up to the

desk to let the nurses know he was there and waiting on his wife.