As he made his way through the Zorman building from his sub basement lab to the fifth floor conference room Simon wasn’t sure which would be worse; if he didn’t know what this surprise meeting was about or if he did. The elevator ride seemed to take forever but Simon was still keeping his enhanced abilities largely a secret. The members of the Nine had him outmatched in terms of power, massively so, but it was still best to keep his secrets.

Unfortunately the one man who did know was no friend of his; The Solar Scion. Stanley Stickle, more than ninety years old, active since the 1940’s, hated Simon. After Simon reacted to his home being destroyed in one of the Scion’s out of control brawls by turning a jalopy into a mechanized suit of power armor and attacking the Scion he was able to parlay his ingenuity into a position with the Scion’s employers. Because of this they’d had a contemptuous relationship as co-workers for over fifty years.

But Simon thought back to their last major confrontation, not just a verbal argument but an assault by the Scion on what he assumed to be a helpless Simon. Having proven that he was ready for the “Son of the Sun” to attack Simon had bought himself precious time, twenty-three years in fact, but he knew that couldn’t last forever.

With a ding the elevator door opened on the third level, elongating the already painfully slow ascent. With a smirk the latest recruit, called The Amazon, stepped on. She was tall; a remarkably muscular woman considering that she still sported rounded hips and top heavy. Simon had checked; it was all genetics, probably a result of her status as an Altered human. “What’s up, nerd?” she asked, slapping him on the shoulder, which stung slightly.

She was worrisome; an Altered whose abilities were entirely chemical, unaffected by the lights of a pattern disruptor. But, in spite of her jockish behavior, she was friendly, so Simon looked to remain on good terms with her. There was only one problem. “I’m honestly not sure. If I’m not mistaken Stanley’s the one calling the meeting. You two are more than friendly; maybe you could enlighten me?”

She tittered like a schoolgirl, though her voice was closer to that of a brass-throated jazz singer. “You think he tells me anything? We’re hooking up, Glasses. As old as the bastard is I don’t think he can handle anything else. He’d be married by now if he could…”

“Oh.” Simon replied, searching for a way to continue probing before they hit the fifth floor.

But it was she that broke the uncomfortable pause. “Say, uh, I was wondering. You think you could hook me up with some new gimmicks or something? I notice that a lot of the guys have extra stuff you made to, uh, what’s the word? Do more?”

“Supplement?”

“Yeah! Supple ment their powers.” She grinned from ear to ear. Simon felt a twinge of irritation at her simple manner. As a girl she’d been a natural athlete with no need for academics and coaches that pushed her through school year after year. Taking a gap year her powers erupted, she became Devil Girl, a vigilante licensed heroes had to bring to justice. Luckily she was smart enough to play ball, avoiding jailtime and getting her license.

“Of course I can, but you’ll have to change the way you do things.”

“Uh … yeah, of course.” Amazon looked Simon up and down, grabbed him by the bicep and slid her hand down, feeling the muscle. “You been working out?”

She was too used to using her body to get what she wanted. This was not what he meant and, if anything, would probably hurt his short-term goals. “I am, in fact, doing everything I can to increase my physical power. Now, you’ll have to wear more. The gear has to have somewhere to go and a bikini won’t hold much.”

Eyes narrowing she was clearly annoyed by this. “Oh. So you want me to cover up. I’m gonna start callin’ you ‘Mom’ instead of Glasses.”

“That’s not it at all. Like … let’s say you want jump jets. Where will they go? You’re barefoot in the field.”

“That’s ‘cause my feet are harder than what I’m walking on. God!”

“Again, no judgment! The jets, though, would almost have to go in boots. They can be … big, furry things to fit your savage motif. Maybe a one-piece instead of a bikini–”

“Here we go!”

“So you can have a belt with gimmicks hidden inside! How would a belt look with bikini bottoms?” He thought this really shouldn’t be annoying her but, then, Simon hadn’t had a chance to explore her family issues. Apparently she had a real aversion to clothing based on authority figures telling her to wear more of it.

“Yeah … I guess. I want good stuff though. Like, I dunno … oh, blow darts! That’d be cool.”

“I’ll see what I can do!” The elevator door shot open and they were on the fifth floor. The open floorplan at the center left little to the imagination here. In spite of the “New York Nine” having only the top nine heroes in the country (according to them) active at any given time the conference table had a total of twenty chairs.

Grip was at the center of the far side. Good old Gladys. She was benched, watching the front door most days, but could be called up in the event of a major threat. This was something that worried her frequently since she accidentally killed a supervillain in the field a few years before. Amazon all but skipped over to sit next to the woman who’d become a grandmotherly figure to her the last few months.

Going around, next, was Ampere. Another example of the agelessness of Altered people. Her dark skin had not gained so much as a single wrinkle in the past two decades. Metabolism of a teenager, agile, quick; claiming that all of it ran in her family but she knew. Going forward the people around her would grow old and fade away, leaving her with only those strange people she now found herself surrounded by. He’d noticed that she was most comfortable in the armor he’d designed for her, perhaps because of this.

“The girls are sitting together” mused Simon with a smirk. It seemed silly to him. Next was Revenant, on the other side, looking miserable. The ex-mob goombah was similarly unmarked by the passage of time, in spite of a terrible smoking habit. In fact he was clearly suffering from a lack of nicotine right now.

Then Biohazard, similarly separated. The white-haired former physician was one of the few late bloomers among the Altered set. His crows’ feet set him apart in appearance but he hadn’t aged in the thirty years following his first thirty. A relatively new recruit, only about a ten-year tenure, he was brought on after a few serious injuries in the team had left them short-handed for far too long.

Taking a seat opposite the Scion Simon made sure the pair could make easy eye contact. Directness, be it legitimate or affected, was the only way to deal with the man at this point. A dour look on his face the Scion eyed Simon from across the round table.

In a move that he knew would challenge Stan Simon spoke first. “Looks like we’re all here, Stanley. Did you want to begin?”

Looking all around the table Simon noticed confusion among the members of the Nine. Scion seized upon this immediately. “Yes, that’s right, everyone. Five active members, an ancillary member and our middle manager. Why is that, exactly, Simon?

Eyes limpid and half-open Simon sighed deeply. “Well, since you asked, it was something that would need to be addressed in the very near future. You see, Aegis, Circe and Cryotherm had shown an interest in pursuing other opportunities. Their contracts had been up for some six months, leaving them working as free agents, and the Programme had shown an interest in them.”

Scion grit his teeth. “You just live to make me angery, don’t you? Why were their contracts not re-signed? Why was I not consulted!?”

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Remaining cool and, more importantly, dispassionate, Simon shot back. “We had been in negotiations for the entire period since before their contracts expired. Ninety days in advance of expiration talks began but all three wanted considerably more money and, as you know, they were a package deal.

“How much more money could they possibly want!? These are world-class talents, Simon!”

“And Aegis, in particular, wanted the position of Field Commander…” Silence. Simon let it hang in the air for a moment. “Your. Position. I’m sure you’re aware…”

Squeezing his eyes shut the Scion performed a breathing exercise he’d been prescribed. Heat and light were leaking out of the man everywhere, spiking the temperature in the room. Gradually it died down and he was able to reply. “Why … why was I not consulted, Simon?”

“Simple, Stanley. As you mentioned I am management, not talent, and as such I didn’t need your consultation. The Board made clear how far we could go in negotiations. Zorman’s lawyers I needed, Zorman’s accountant I needed, but not you.”

“We are completely understaffed! Five active members!? What? One for each Burrough!? What about Jersey!? What if something big goes down in Boston for the love of God!?” Stanley’s therapy was really working. The murderous rage Simon knew he had was buried truly deep down.

Simon raised his hands, a “hold on” motion. “Listen, you and I both know that your role as Field Leader was never on the table. Aegis was on the verge of issuing a direct challenge with many, many Italian-language invectives citing your parentage, your looks and your sexuality. Considering the last real fight in the training room I didn’t think the building could handle it.”

Not subtle in the least the statement was meant to needle the Scion. Continuing his breathing exercise Stan retained control. “And do you have an update on Mission?”

Raising an eyebrow Simon shook his head slightly. “I have not received express permission from Henry for you to receive his medical status, Stan.”

“Bullshit! Hank is my friend, goddammit. What are you talking about!?”

For the first time in several meetings Biohazard spoke. “You know, I am a doctor. Maybe I could have another crack at aiding in his recovery?”

“Not a chance, Neil. The last time you tried your ‘healing’ powers the tumor nearly tripled in size. I won’t even bring it up to the man and don’t you go to the Board … again. Last time you got in some pretty hot water.”

“Right. Sorry. Right…” and he fell silent. His heart was in the right place but flooding life force energy into a cancer patient with an extreme regeneration power had led to a near consumption of the veteran hero right there on the table.

“No need to be sorry. Just … give me time. I’m the geneticist in the room.”

“And where’s that degree from again, Simon? Hm!?” Stan was getting frustrated after all. “You lord all this power over this team and here we are, four men short, one of whom has been on the verge of death for well over a year.”

“Because the Wildman was a walking suicide bomb, yes. Our friend, not your friend, was a torso with half a head after that attack.”

“And why didn’t you see that coming? Hm? ‘World’s smartest man’? He lived among us for years and the Wildman was this … freakish cyborg! That mock trial, pretending that we ‘caught the bad guy’, found him guilty, everything, everyone was fine!”

“What are you saying? I should have given the public the whole truth? Cyborg villain nearly brings down the Nine? A hundred-thousand androids, many of whom were still on the loose? A beloved hero’s own power is eating him?”

“What I’m saying is that all of this casts you in the best light and it’s fucking suspicious.” There was a small halo about Stan, a flickering; righteous anger he didn’t feel he had to suppress. “And suddenly, with our alternate heavy, the master of kinetic energy who could put out the fire of a city block with his mind and the ultimate chemical mind controller, able to break up a riot with her mind, they’re all gone. They’re gone and I run into the Three Stooges with superpowers out in the field, on the verge of getting their licenses. This is all happening in the space of a few days, Simon. Coincidence is one thing but there’s a limit.

Simon fought every urge to react, to spill his guts, to let Stan know in no uncertain terms that he knew; so long as they were both alive Simon’s life was in danger. Instead he had to avert his eyes and collect his thoughts; at a loss to address everything named. “So … you met the Three Stooges? It was my understanding that they were dead.” Feeling clever he continued. “Or are you confusing an old memory of the nineteen-forties for yesterday?”

Slamming both fists on the table, the Scion took a giant chunk out of it, the pieces falling in bizarre hex shapes to the floor. It was designed to be abused and reassembled but the noise of this abuse was tremendous. “Fuck you, Poindexter! You know exactly what I’m talking about! Three key members, three of our most recent hires, leave and that simpleton calling himself Megadude shows up out of the blue!? With two partners, all after a license. Hero licenses aren’t fucking advertised! How do they even know!? The normie among them had a lot of tech but not much sense, so it’s got me thinking maybe he didn’t make it himself.”

“Do tell.” Simon smirked, cockily, adjusting the glasses that magnified the size of his eyes.

“You son of a… I threw him, Simon. Pushed him straight off, the armor he wore repelled stones and made a deep furrow in the earth before he was embedded in the wall of a crater made by the supervillain they took down. He walked away. Who else designs armor like that?”

“I’ve never investigated that, to be honest. Lots of weird stuff on the dark web, you know. And what villain was that? I saw you on the news, supposedly having taken down the Big Original Gangsta. Funny … you finally brought him in after so many attempts? In the past, every time you came close he’d create some separation and disappear before you knew what was going on.”

Sitting back down before his empty chunk of table, the other members at the table moving further from him, the Scion shook his head. “He was a shape-changer, able to turn his powers on and off, completely different builds.” His tone flat, his stare dead-eyed, the Scion would not be angered further. “But I think you knew that. I think you’ve known for awhile.”

“Well, as you say, I am the world’s smartest man.” He was having fun now needling the man thought by the public to be the most powerful man in the world. “Maybe I did know but then … forgot? As for this staffing shortfall; how about we bring in Lukas Verhoeven? I understand ‘Das Uberschwanz’ is very gettable these days; sick of working rehabilitation in Europe.”

Sitting up straighter The Amazon made a little chirp of excitement. Simon remained staring at the Scion, whose eyes grew big as his latest hookup seemed stirred by a reference to a larger powerhouse known to give him a great deal of trouble. Eyes growing big Scion stood up, took to the air and flew far too quickly out of the room, the resulting change in airflow moving everyone in the room and all the furniture a short distance towards the door. “Oh! I’m in trouble!” she whined, grabbing her face.

“Actually, knowing him as I do, you have a short window to have a short argument followed by … well, I don’t want to be crass, but let’s just say I know the man to get randy when he’s angry.” The Amazon looked over to him and Simon winked, fighting back laughter as he watched her flee after the Son of the Sun.

A pall fell over the room before everyone else in attendance started muttering among themselves. Finally it was Revenant who spoke up to Simon. “What the hell was all that? I knew you guys got old baggage but that was crazy.” The rest in attendance, Grip, Ampere and Biohazard all echoed his concern.

Simon saw his opportunity, finally, after all this time, after the Scion invaded his sanctuary and threatened his life, to turn things in his favor. “People … I’m sorry to say this. I didn’t want to say anything but I’m afraid that Stanley Stickle, the Solar Scion, has exhibited signs of delusional paranoia for over twenty years. The first time he failed to accept plain truth and fact was over twenty years ago when he invaded my laboratory. Luckily I have defenses installed that hampered his attempts until I could successfully reason with him. Otherwise I would be dead right now.” It was almost true; the best kind of lie.

“Holy shit…” muttered Revenant.

“Yes. I know.” Simon nodded vehemently. “Now if he flew off the handle, assuming you saw it coming, you’d simply phase and get away. Ampere here might be okay … if she was armored up when it happened. He’d really have to work for it to kill the Grip–

“Simon! Stop it! Stop saying these horrible things!” cried Gladys, AKA The Grip, hiding her giant head. “I can’t stand it!” Ampere attempted to comfort her as best she could.

But Biohazard, I know it was before your time, and I’m sorry you had to be brought into something like this … you are something of a fragile target. Your ability to manipulate the very nature of life energy and, thus, biological life, well, it wouldn’t do much against a man with the strength of a God who was hot as the surface of the sun, would it?”

Already a quiet fellow, Biohazard’s eyes went big as saucers and he cast his gaze at the distant windows in the cavernous Conference Room.

“Wait, you got a lab?” asked Revenant, interest piqued.

“Yes, Rev, and no you can’t see it. I only mentioned it to illustrate my point. Now … I just want you all to understand one thing. If I turn up dead it wasn’t suicide, it wasn’t a supervillain; I anticipate every threat, you understand that?

Standing, moving over to the window, Simon shook his head, then turned to speak without looking at anyone. “The one threat I don’t have fully countered … the one thing that might kill me. If I turn up dead; it was Stanley Stickle; the Solar Scion. He's the killer...”