Just Cause Universe 3: Day of the Destroyer (5 page)

“Shrinking? What good would that be?” Javier wrinkled his nose at the coffee.

“I can think of a half dozen useful applications offhand,” said Lionheart. “Crowd control, reducing collateral damage, insurgence and stealth.”

“She’s in the offices, getting her paperwork all in order. Devereaux will bring her in a little while to meet everyone. Faith is going to show her what we do here in Just Cause.”

“Besides partying, you mean?” asked Faith.

Bobby’s brow wrinkled in consternation. “Yes, there’s that. Maybe we should tone things down a little. Make a good first impression.”

Javier’s snort carried across the room. “It’s
Wednesday
,” he said as if that explained everything.

“Oh, that reminds me,” said Sundancer. “I’ve got extra tickets to the Mets game tonight. Anybody want to join me?”

“Count me in,” said John Stone. “I love baseball.”

“I’ll join you,” said Tommy.

Sundancer smiled. “That’s handled, then. Count us out for poker tonight.”

“May as well have a party, then,” said Javier. “They introduce eligible young ladies at parties, don’t they? We ought to introduce Imp to our adoring public.”

“Fine,” said Bobby. “Let’s just try to keep it from getting out of hand. Devereaux’s spending a fortune on us here.”

“I am indeed,” said a cultured Bostonian voice. Lane Devereaux was tall and spare like a scarecrow, with a shock of carefully styled graying hair and eyes surrounded by laughter lines. Pushing fifty, he looked far too friendly and approachable to be the CEO of the multi-million dollar foundation that supported Just Cause and parahuman research around the world. Unlike many executives, Devereaux was a hands-on man, and made his center of business operations in Just Cause headquarters where he was often the first one into the office and the last one to leave on any given day. Behind him strode a slender black girl in a homemade pink and white costume and a large afro. She smiled nervously at the others, as if expecting to be judged. “Ladies and gentlemen of Just Cause, I’m pleased to introduce to you Ms. Irlene Washington, also known as Imp.”

Devereaux made introductions around the team for Irlene, who looked overwhelmed at meeting so many new parahumans.

“Don’t worry, Irlene,” said Faith. “There’s not going to be a test or anything. Tell us a little about yourself and your powers.”

Irlene tucked one foot behind the other ankle as if embarrassed. She looked at the floor as she spoke. “There’s not much to tell. I live with my Momma, little brother and sister. I went to Renaissance High. Um, I can shrink stuff and people down to doll-size. And fly.” She smiled at that. “Flying is very cool.”

Tommy smiled. “I have to agree with you there. Maybe we can patrol together sometime. It’d be nice to have someone to fly with besides Javelin here.”

Javier gave him a sour smile.

“Oh, really?” Irlene looked as if her heart had skipped a beat from the sudden attention of the golden-haired heartthrob.

“What does that shrinking look like? How small can you make things?” asked Lionheart.

Irlene shrank herself down to the size of a Barbie doll and flitted about the room. “This is as small as I can make myself,” she shouted in a curiously high-pitched voice. “Everything else scales like this.”

“We’ll be sure to let you know if we run across any vicious gerbils or sparrows.” Javier laughed.

Tommy could see the look of dismay cross Irlene’s tiny face. “He’s joking with you,” he said quickly. “He’s like that. Don’t pay him any mind.” He glared across the table with such ferocity that Javier sat back and looked away.

“Well, on that note, does anybody have any new business to bring up?” said Bobby. “No?” Nobody spoke. “Well then, morning briefing’s adjourned. Let’s go protect the city.”

#

The bus squeaked to a stop in a canyon of steel and concrete. Gretchen pressed her face against the glass and stared at the bustle of Manhattan. The stink of exhaust wafted in through the open windows and made her nose wrinkle. Around her, passengers pushed their way toward the front exit as the driver opened the luggage bays on the side.

“You got somebody meeting you, honey? You have someplace to go?” asked the woman who’d sat beside her since Chicago.

“Yeah, I think so,” said Gretchen.

Her best friend Elizabeth had promised to call her cousin in New York. “He’s real responsible,” she’d said. “He works for Con Ed. That’s the power company. He’s twenty-three. I’ll tell him you’re coming out to New York. He’ll help you find a place to stay while you go talk to the Just Cause people.”

Gretchen still couldn’t wrap her mind around the notion that she was a parahuman. She’d left Donny lying in the ditch, dead, his lungs full of his own blood. She didn’t know what had happened to him, except that somehow she had done it. Elizabeth had figured it out though. “You must be a parahuman,” she’d said in awe after a tear-stained Gretchen told her what happened. “The trauma must have activated it.”

“Trauma?” Gretchen had nearly shrieked. “He ruh… ruh…” She hadn’t been able to say the word.

“Shush, you’ll wake my folks. Boys do that,” Elizabeth said. “All of them do it sooner or later. Even the ones you think are nice. You just learn to live with it. For me it was Eddie Rogers.” She’d grabbed a bag from a shelf and started filling it with clothes. She and Gretchen were the same size and swapped outfits so often they didn’t really know whose were whose originally. “You can’t stay here, though. Not after what you did, I mean, what happened to Donny. There are laws about using parahuman powers against people.”

Gretchen felt like her world was crashing down around her in splinters. “What can I do? Where can I go?”

“Go to New York. Go to Just Cause. Tell them what happened. They can help you.”

“New York?” Gretchen’s jaw dropped. “I can’t go to New York! I’ve never even been further away than Des Moines.”

But Elizabeth had raided her parents’ emergency money in the cookie jar in the kitchen, and along with Gretchen’s tip money for the night they had enough for a one-way bus ticket to New York City. Then she drove Gretchen to the bus stop just outside of town in Donny’s car. “I’ll hide it somewhere,” she said. “Hopefully nobody will notice he’s gone for a day or so. By then you’ll be on your way. I’ll call my cousin in the morning and tell him to meet you.”

Gretchen had really broken down then. “Oh, Lizzie,” she cried, “what will I do? I wish you could come with me. You’re so much smarter about stuff like this.”

Elizabeth held her tight. “You’ll be fine. I wish I could go with you, but somebody’s got to stay behind and give you time to get away.” Her eyes were also bright with tears. “I wish I could go with you. When you’re a big superhero with Just Cause, I’ll come visit you. Make sure you wear the blue shirt, because I’m going to tell Shane to look for it.”

It had seemed like the only option at the time, but now as Gretchen stared wide-eyed at the titanic skyscrapers and bustling streets, she felt more lost than ever before.

She bent to pick up her bag and another hand closed on the handle beside hers. She gasped as she saw a man with greasy black hair flowing out from under a fedora grinning at her. A toothpick rested in the corner of his mouth and a gold tooth gleamed in the morning sunlight.

“
Buenas dias, señorita
. New in town?” He had an accent kind of like some of the Mexicans who came to work in the fields in Dyersville, but looked both cleaner and, well, slimier than they did.

“That’s my bag,” said Gretchen. Fear arose in her as if someone had turned a spigot. She tugged meekly at it.

“Easy,
chica
. I didn’t mean nothing by it. You need a ride somewhere? Someplace to stay?” He looked her up and down like a prospective buyer taking in the lines of a new car. “Something to eat?”

“I’m fine, really. Will you please let go of my bag?” Gretchen tried to keep the terrified shudder out of her voice but didn’t quite succeed.

“Everything okay here, miss?” The bus driver lit a new cigarette from the butt of the one he’d just finished, then flicked the smoldering dog-end into the dry gutter.

“We’re just talkin’,” said the man in the hat. “Ain’t no law against talkin’.”

The bus driver looked at Gretchen, looked at the man with his hand still on her bag, and apparently decided not to get involved further. He shrugged and walked away, a dark line of sweat marking the outline of the bus seat on the back of his uniform shirt.

“Please,” whispered Gretchen. “Please let go.”

“What you so afraid of, sweetmeat? I ain’t gonna hurt you. I’m just tryin’ to be nice. Now why don’t you come with me and we’ll get a sandwich and talk about it.” He lifted the bag.

“Please don’t.” Tears spilled down Gretchen’s face. She hadn’t been in New York a minute and here she was already about to get mugged. This was the kind of thing that her parents had shaken their heads at over the dinner table. Big cities were full of people like this man here, always looking to prey on the helpless. Pimps, muggers, serial killers.

The power leaped out of Gretchen, unbidden. “No!” she yelled as it sought a target and centered on the greasy-haired man. She wouldn’t kill again. She steered it aside at the last moment. Each tire along the side of the bus facing her crumpled and imploded in sequence. The Greyhound bus shuddered and lurched as it lost its support. The power wasn’t finished yet, and Gretchen gasped as a softball-sized sphere of air somewhere inside the bus cabin vanished into nothingness. The resultant blast of thunder shattered every window in the bus. People yelled in surprise and clapped their hands to their ears too late to block the sound.

The man with the hat dropped Gretchen’s bag.

Despite the sudden outburst of her mysterious power and the disorienting crash of thunder, Gretchen kept enough presence of mind to take her bag and hurry away from the damaged bus. Maybe she could find some place to hide from the greasy-haired man, but when she looked back, he had already disappeared into the crowd. She realized with growing terror that she was completely alone in the biggest city in the world, and had nowhere to—

“Gretchen? Gretchen Gumm?”

At the sound of her name, Gretchen whirled around. The power rose up again, eager to spring free once again, but she quashed it as deep as she could. A slender man in Con Ed coveralls stood before her. He had shaggy brown hair brushing his collar, a pathetically thin mustache, and a friendly smile. He had to be Elizabeth’s cousin.

“Yes, that’s me.”

Relief flooded his features. “I thought it might be. Elizabeth said you were pretty, blonde, and wearing a blue t-shirt. I’m Shane. Shane Clemens. Pleased to meet you.” He held out his hand. “Can I carry your bag for you?”

“N-no, that’s okay,” said Gretchen. “I’ll carry it. Can we get out of here?”

“Sure thing. I’m on my way to work, anyway. I’m double-parked, but I’m in a truck so it’s probably okay. Do you mind riding with me until my shift’s over? Then we can see about getting you someplace to stay.”

Gretchen looked behind her at the bus half a block away. It had drawn a sizable crowd of interested onlookers as the bus driver regarded the state of his bus in profanity-laced dismay. “Yeah, I can ride with you,” she said. “Let’s go. I don’t want you to be late for work.”

Chapter Three

July 13, 1977, 11:00 AM

Faith smiled at Irlene. “Ready for your first patrol?”

Irlene smiled back, a little nervous. “I think so. What do I do?”

“Stick with me. Mostly patrolling is just about being seen out there in the city. Hey, how high can you fly?”

“I don’t know,” said Irlene. “I never tried to find out.”

“Well, if you can get up to it, we’ve got an aerial-only access on this floor. Tornado and Javelin use it all the time. It’s a lot less hassle than the elevator.”

Irlene shuddered. “Javelin ain’t a very nice man.”

Faith nodded. “He’s an asshole. Keep your distance from him, especially at parties.”

“Do I call you all by your names or your superhero names or what?”

“You can just call us by our names. Superhero names are for when we’re in public.”

The elevator bell dinged and the doors slid open. A few people looked up at the costumed heroes with interest. “Hi, everyone,” said Faith. “Ground floor, please.” They rode downward in silence until one hesitant woman asked if she could have their autographs. Before the elevator finished its descent, Faith and Irlene had both signed several autographs.

“Is it always like this?” Irlene whispered as they crossed the lobby.

“Sometimes. Being in Just Cause makes you a celebrity, like if you were in a band.”

“Wow.” Irlene sounded thoroughly starstruck to Faith. “I never thought that being a superhero would make me famous. Will I get to be on TV and in the papers?”

“Probably,” said Faith. She worked hard to keep her private life out of the media. At the end of the day, she wanted to be able to enjoy a quiet dinner with Bobby in a restaurant somewhere. They stepped out into the bright sunshine that peeked down between the other skyscrapers to illuminate the plaza.