=== KARI ===

The greatest thing about flying is it's like creating your own personal roller coaster. I could choose when to spin, when to do loop-de-loops, and when to do sudden drops. And I was content to do that all day. Or at least until I found something better to do. There were lots of little crimes going on all the time. Things like purse snatching and speeding, but Chuck had told me not to interfere too much with those. They were widely things that the police could deal with. Unless something was happening right in front of me, Chuck thought I should just let it pass. It made some sense. I couldn't be everywhere all at once, and people could usually find ways of handling it themselves. So, during patrol, I would usually only stop crimes that were right below me or a significant threat.

  That was what I was doing today. I had created my alt for Tak-Tik. SmashGal, if you want to follow me. I do some really awesome stuff. At the moment in question, I was recording a new flying video. I found some neat videos of people in glide suits and figured I could add to that trend. Unfortunately, my flight was cut short. From miles below me, I could hear an alarm ringing off. I closed my eyes and focused on the sound. People were screaming. There was a bank robbery. I rushed down, landed on the street, throwing dust and dirt everywhere, and glanced around. Two men had come bursting out of the bank with bags weighed down heavily with their ill-gotten gains. I charged forward, and one of them stepped out of the way and blasted me against the wall with sweltering air. It was scalding. They're metas. Okay. That's good. Don't want to get a reputation for picking on vanillas.

  I charged through the steam, caught the one blasting me by the throat, and lifted him effortlessly. "Put him down, Smash Gal, or I'll waste this one!"

  I turned to see that his partner had an arm around the neck of a young black man with dreads. The robber's fingers on his other hand were pressed into the captive's temple, and the man was trying to lean away from his captor. "C'mon, man. There ain't no need for this. I'm just trying to get to work."

  "Shut up, or I'll waste you!" The man shouted as he started backing away. Sirens were ringing out against the walls. I slammed the one I had in hand against the wall, and he slumped over, unconscious. The man with the captive pressed his fingers harder into the man's temples. "Back off, Smash Gal! I'm not afraid to ki-"

  Lightning struck him. On a clear day. With no clouds. What the Hell just happened? I thought. The man slumped over, and the man he held stood up straighter and started walking away before being surrounded by the police. "Freeze!"

  "Oh, come on! I ain't got nothing to do with this! I'm just trying to get to work," the man said. The police closed in on him and the two unconscious people.

  "Uh-huh, sure, meta. I'm sure it's all just a coincidence. You being here just as robbery happens," one of the officers said, circling around him, grabbing his arm, and putting one of the weighty cuffs onto it. The man's skin instantly drained of color, leaving him ashen and obviously weak. "You have the right to remain silent."

  "Wait a minute!" I called out, rushing down. "He wasn't involved. It was just those two. One just took him hostage."

  The officer looked at me for a moment and then at her new charge. She shook her head. "Sorry . . . Smash Gal. We can't risk having another meta out on the street. Too many already. Acting without permission. Thinking they can just do whatever they want."

  The man looked up at me, eyes glazed over. He was hunched. The officer pushed him forward, and I hesitated. She was a police officer. She had to know what she was doing, right? But . . . There were all of those videos of the police killing unarmed black men. And getting away with it. And he was a meta. He wasn't resisting at all. In his current state, I don't think he could have. "Okay. I'll ride with him."

  "What?"

  "I have to give my statement, right? I'll help exonerate him. He didn't do anything wrong."

  "He used deadly force! He struck someone with lightning," the officer exclaimed. "That's assault. We have the whole thing on dashcams.

  "Then you also have that he was being held against his will, and his life was being threatened."

  "He still has to be in custody until a judge can make a decision."

  "That's not fair!" I shouted, causing the other police to turn to me. "He didn't do anything that I don't do. If anything, he's more justified. He might've been killed if it weren't for his actions."

  "Smash Gal," another officer sidled up next to me. "It'll be okay. He'll be let go if he's innocent, and it was self-defense."

  The man in cuffs laughed weakly. The cop guiding him to her car pushed him forward. "Something funny, punk?"

  "If I'm innocent, I'll be let go. Yeah, right. Ain't no black man with powers ever going to be let go by the police."

  "He is innocent! I am an eyewitness. And you have no right to arrest him," I said, my voice shaking a little. I stepped forward, but the cop next to me grabbed my arm.

  "Don't do anything you'll regret, Smash Gal." His tone was heavy with warning. I looked at him, the other cop, and the man they had in custody. What should I do?

=== CURT ===

Cindi and I met downtown. I was still moving a little more slowly than usual; fighting metas is generally not a good plan. Especially not that fucking psycho Smash Gal. Cindi looked me up and down and smiled. "You seem stiff. Is that because of me, or has someone else?"

  "Well, I'm told that Smash Gal is quite . . . smashing," I said with my best grin.

  "I can't believe I let you touch me."

  "Me neither, honestly." We made our way down the street, and she wrapped her arm around me. She was a couple of inches shorter than me. Or would be if she wasn't wearing heels that matched her ridiculous dress. The kind of thing that, with one wrong move, she'd slip right out of. And given that I knew her attitude on underwear, I was sure it would be pretty revealing. I tried not to think about it.

  "Come on, darling. I got us a reservation. It's a good thing you dress so formally already. I did bring you a jacket that they can take at the door. The pretentious fucks." She laughed. Her attitude towards the rich was always bipolar. She wanted to be rich. She loved having money and freedom and the ability to choose. But she hated the rich. Especially their bullshit rituals and formalities. "So, you can't pop at all?"

  Popping was what she called teleporting. I guess that's the sound it makes. I have been constantly experiencing it, so I haven't really heard it. My theory is it's the sound of two mildly different atmospheres trying to balance out. The small portals I make are usually too small for that to matter. I shrugged. "I have a couple of presets that I can access."

  We passed a street preacher who had gathered a small crowd. Cindi stopped for a moment to listen. "False prophets and idols abound! Causing the good people of this city and the world to doubt Jesus. These so-called meta-humans doing things only God should do are the works of Satan! Do not give these monsters any of your attention. Focus on Jesus!"

  "What if Jesus was just the first meta?" Cindi called out. The preacher was taken aback by this and stuttered for a moment. The crowd murmured indistinctly. Cindi smiled; it was always a game to her. Putting people off balance. She started walking again.

  "Y-young lady, you're blinded by the Devil! And your soul will burn in Hell unless you repent!"

  "I've been to Norway," she said over her shoulder. "Hel is a wonderful city. Love the company there."

  "Why'd you do that?" I asked as we continued on.

  "Why do you think, darling?"

  "Because you are bored and like to stir up trouble." She laughed and hugged my arm into her chest.

  "You always understand me. It's why I love hanging out with you, Curt."

  We got to the restaurant, and a table was ready for us. There were three chairs, but I didn't think anything of it. Until a third person joined us. A man with gray hair and pale skin, roughly the size of a mountain. Cindi turned to him. "Ah, Mr. Marcelli. It's good to see you. This is my . . . Colleague. Curt."

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

=== KARI ===

My mind ran through about a hundred different things I could have done as they loaded the man into the car. I had grown up with the police; my uncle was a policeman; he was a good man. Would he do this? I thought about it. I didn't know what he was like at work. I knew that when I was a kid, he would give me toy guns, and we would play cops and robbers. The man in the back of the squad car looked up at me. I stepped forward; they couldn't stop me; nothing had ever before. I glanced down at the cuffs that they had. Heavy-looking things. Well, heavy for any regular person. I couldn't let this happen; I couldn't just attack the police. That wouldn't solve anything. I took out my phone and started filming.

  But I could do something. Mom had built a mic into the helmet when we fixed it. She thought that the Tak-Tik idea was pretty good branding and encouraged it. I opened a live feed on the public Smash Gal Facebook page and announced loudly. "Hey, Smash Squad. We have two police officers arresting an innocent man who was taken hostage as a part of a bank robbery I helped stop."

  Both of the police officers froze. I leaned down and made sure to get both of their faces on camera. As well as the profile of their hostage. In some ways, these cops weren't any better than the man who had tried to use him as leverage. The cop at my side tried to push the phone down. "Stop recording that!"

  I grinned. There were 400 viewers. For an impromptu stream, it wasn't bad. I dodged his hand and shook my head. "No! I will not stop recording. You're arresting an innocent man."

  "That man struck someone with lightning!"

  "A man who was threatening to kill him. It was self-defense." More police gathered around us, as well as a few bystanders. "Let him go. Take his statement. But he didn't do anything wrong. What was he supposed to do? Let himself be killed?"

  "Then there'd be one less of them on the streets," one of the cops said. I couldn't tell which one of them, but I panned the camera around.

  "Metas or black men?" Someone in the crowd cried out. The police looked around and shuffled. A few of them stood straighter and put their hands on their guns. There were some people of color in the crowd. There had been riots previously. I wasn't going to let that happen.

  "Just let him go. He's a witness to a crime. Not anything more," I said, trying to use a calm, soothing voice. The cops looked back at the man in the car and then at each other, considering. Slowly, the cop closest to the car opened the door, pulled the man out, uncuffed him, and pushed him towards me. He stumbled, but the color returned to his face, and he stood a little straighter. His eyes focused. Those cuffs . . . They're terrifying. "Thank you. Alright, Smash Squad. I'm going to sign off. I should be back later, though. Thanks!"

  I turned off the stream and turned to the man. "Are you okay?"

  "Yeah, I'm alright. Uh . . . Thanks, Smash Gal. Next time just knock their asses out."

  "The cops?"

  "Or the guys holding me. You're fast enough." He looked at his phone. "Shit. I'm going to be late."

  "Oh, I'm sorry. I could fly you there if you like." He looked at the cops and then at his phone again and sighed and nodded. I grabbed him by his arm, and we lifted slowly into the air. He yelped, and I sped up a bit. Nothing ridiculous. Just a solid 60 miles an hour or so. He clung tightly to my arm and basically cried. Before we got to his work, I had to ask. "Come on, princess. When was the last time you let your heart decide?"

  "My heart just about got me locked up and has me flying with a crazy-ass white chick. So, like ten minutes ago," the man called back up. We landed in front of his job, and he took a few deep breaths, hands on his knees. Then he looked up at me and shook his head. "Why'd you stop them?"

  "You were just a witness. You could be a hero for all I know."

  "I ain't no hero, lady. Just a man trying to make a living."

  "But you have powers."

  "Yeah, and we see what happens when I use them."

  "You stopped a criminal."

  "And became one myself," he said, shaking his head. "It ain't as simple as all that, lady. We ain't ready for a black superhero."

  "What about Erica?" I asked. "That technomancer who shuts down crime in Cape Town?"

  "She ain't American. It's not the same."

  "Well, maybe it's time for you to be the first. Be an example." He stared at me for a long moment.

  "I'll think about it. But I gotta go. I got bills to pay." He walked away, shaking his head. "Fucking crazy ass white people."

=== CURT ===

I glared at Cindi, who smiled back innocently. Slowly, I directed my gaze back to Marcelli, mentally preparing myself to teleport away to a third safe spot. Without the whole control system, I had to set up specific waypoints that I could refer back to. I could activate others with an app I had designed on my phone. Still, I also had a few defaults that I could access immediately with a snap. Considering the man sitting next to me, I greeted him. "Hello, Mr. Marcelli. How can I help you today?"

  "Esvanir, my friend," he began, smiling. I gritted my teeth and pointedly did not look at Cindi. She must've told him. "You have something of mine that I need back."

  "Esvanir? The thief? You have the wron-" The man in front of me slammed his hand down on the table.

  "Don't treat me like a fool, boy. I hate that. I may not have super intelligence, but it doesn't take a Bion-level intellect to figure out who you are." He leaned back and brought back his smile. "It was easy to figure out what you wanted it for. I have to say, it's clever. Using my software to better account for conditions. Adapting it from races and stocks to the world as a whole. It's a pretty good idea."

  I frowned. I was trying to think of a way out of it. He continued before I could say anything. "Have you finished the modifications?"

  "Almost. There are still a couple of bugs, and I haven't been able to test it properly for my purposes." I tried to keep my tone even. Vincent Marcelli was a murderer. And unlike Smash Gal, he wasn't going to hold back just because I was weaker than him. "If you're going to kill me, can we just get it over with?"

  "Kill you? I'm offended," Marcelli said. He didn't look offended. "I don't kill people. I'm a businessman."

  "Sure," I responded evenly. "Who kills people or has people killed."

  "Eh, I'd prefer not to kill you," he said, boredom taking over his features. "But you are going to work for me."

  "No. I won't," I responded immediately, unable to keep the heat out of my voice.

  "Curt, please," Cindi pleaded. She leaned forward and grabbed my hand.

  "And why won't you work for me? You're a thief. Don't tell me you have scruples about my business."

  "Actually, I do. You sell drugs to kids, and your gang murders people in the street. They're out of control."

  "Omelet, eggs," he said blandly.

  "People aren't eggs. People are people. Just trying to live their lives. For all of your hatred of metas that are so much higher than the rest of us and act recklessly, you're not that different. Your superpower is money. And you use it recklessly and don't give a damn about the common man. If you want to kill me, then do it. But I will never work for you."

  Marcelli clenched the table and leaned forward before taking a breath. "I don't want to kill you, Mr. Reese. I can use a man like you. Your first assignment will be free. You'll return my program and my computer. I'm sure you made a copy."

  "I can return your shit. I only took it because your security took me a while to break through. But I'm not working for you."

  "Then I'll kill your friend here. Buck Cherry is a meta, and we know how I feel about them. They don't deserve to live." I grit my teeth. I can't just let her die. Even if she did betray me. I still refused to look at her, but I could tell she was waiting for me to say something.

  "I've already put a bomb on her. One that she can't remove with her impurities." I would have killed him right there if I had my entire rig. It would have been easy. Just calculate where his heart was and teleport a fork in the middle of it. More complicated than a regular teleport but worth it. But I couldn't. Not yet. I just glared at him. "Give me what belongs to me, and that'll save her. For now."

  I considered it for a moment. Then I took out my phone. "What are you doing?"

  "Setting some waypoints. You'll have your fucking computer back, you piece of shit." He grinned at my name-calling."

  "You're a brave man, Mr. Reese. Not many have the guts to say that to my face." I didn't respond. I just set the space next to my chair as a waypoint and snapped my finger. The next instant, I was at my second home, my lab. I made a copy of the original program and the modified one I had worked on and set them aside. Hefting the machine, I snapped back to the restaurant, almost running into a waitress. I hated snapping blind; it was dangerous. I could have killed her. I sat the machine next to the man, glaring at him the entire time.

  "Excellent. I'm glad to see you're not a complete moron, Esvanir. I'll be in touch with more assignments. Until then, enjoy your dinner." He got up, and one of his flunkies at the next table gathered the machine and left. I stood up and started to go, but Cindi grabbed my hand.

  "Curt, please." I looked at her. There were tears in her eyes. I clenched my jaw and tore my hand away from hers but sat back down. She looked hurt. It wasn't often that she didn't get her way. "I'm sorry. He captured me. That's why I didn't check in on you. He tortured me for a while, figuring out how . . . How I . . . you know."

  "And?"

  "I had to give you up. You stole from him, too." She stared at her hand. "Curt, I need your help."

  "So, he just managed to capture you. You, of all people. The person who has never been captured in her life."

  "He . . . He knocked me out. I wasn't expecting it. Then every time I tried to phase out, he'd electrocute the entire area. And knock me out again. Curt, please. You need to think of a way out of this. You're the only person I can think of." I frowned. Cindi was scared; she was never afraid; she was actually shaking. "He's going to kill me when he's done. You know how he feels about metas."

  "First things first," I said. "We need to rebuild my rig. And you're going to help me with that. For free."