Seven Wonders (48 page)

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Authors: Adam Christopher

BOOK: Seven Wonders
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  They'd all come. It had taken two days, but all,
all
, had heeded Aurora's call. They came in groups: the Chicago Nightguard, United International, the Army of One, the Coven, the League of All-Stars, the Computer Council, the Manhattan Manhunters, Volcanic, the Pan-African Hero Society, the Devils You Know, the Phenomenals, the Scienceers. The superteams alone counted for more than one hundred heroes. But that was just the start. Over two days, the remaining superheroic population of the Earth had journeyed to the moon − by ship, teleport, magical portal, elemental transduction − mostly alone, some in pairs or small groups, not big enough (or so self-important) to have given themselves a group title, but small teams or collectives, and solo protectors: the H-Man, Pangolin the Protector, Glass Tambourine, Omega-Mur, Hammer and Sickle, Jackdaw, the Infinite Wisdom, Doctor Mandragora, Czar and Tzar and Star, Kalamari Karl, Lightning Dancer, Doctor Chlorophyll, Jack Viking, Monomaniac, the Gin Fairy, the Holy Ghanta, the Bandolier, Vengeance, the Gray Claw, Senny Dreadful, Batmonster, the Nuclear Atom, the Mysterious Flame, Moonstalker, Cataclysm and Inferno, the Skyguard II, Your Imaginary Pal, Dark Storm, the Hate Witch, Psychofire, Rabid, Riot, Fox and Hound, Hydrolad, Captain Fuji, Captain Cape Town, Captain Australia, Captain… Jeannie lost count, one uniform and one costume blurring into another. Behind Aurora, on the right. Was that Doc Madness, or the King in Yellow? Or Strange Dynamic in a new cape? And farther back, head visible a full two feet above everyone else: Iron Giant, or the Steam King, or Train? Jeannie really didn't know. Some of these heroes were still in the public eye but a lot − most, even − had long since retreated from the world. Over there, standing behind Linear: Colonel Storm and his partner, Spacelord. Jeannie had thought they'd both died years ago, yet here they were, as large as life. Larger, even, in this moonful of superheroes.

  The conference room door swished, and people shuffled. From her position at the table, Jeannie could see the crowd parting, letting someone in. Everyone at the table turned to see, except Aurora, who just sat, staring, his powerful arms outstretched on the table before him.

  Sam walked in, the superheroes parting on either side like a multicolored sea. Sam stopped at the end of the table, opposite Aurora, by the empty chair. Jeannie wondered what she was waiting for, then almost as one everyone in the room turned to the Dragon Star.

  Sam sat gently. Her expression was fluid, betraying a mix of emotions and the turmoil she felt in her mind. Nervousness, confusion, fear, uncertainty.

  Hope.

  "Joe?"

  The Dragon Star flexed the fingers of his right hand, adjusting their grip on the powerstaff. The man met Sam's eyes, but did not nod or shake his head or offer any form of expression. He spoke softly, in Joe's voice, but it wasn't Joe.

  "I am sorry for your loss, Detective Millar. I am the Dragon Star."

 

The day passed, although on the moon it was hard to tell. The nightscape beyond the observation windows didn't change. The superheroes stood as the meeting continued, except for the Seven Wonders, and Sam, and…

  No, it wasn't Joe. Sam knew that now. It had taken an hour to fill her in on a day of missing time. The power core, SuperSam, the Living Dark. How Joe had died trying to help. How the Dragon Star's body − the anonymous cheerleader − had been killed, but how the alien life force within had found a new host. Detective Joe Milano. Now, the superheroes said, Joe could live on, fighting for justice and avenging his death. So the superheroes said. Sam's face was hot and her eyes hurt. The only thing she wanted to do was run back to her quarters and throw up.

  But then the Dragon Star in Joe's body had done something that made her want to stay and watch and pay attention. He − it, she? − rolled his shoulders, loosening his neck muscles, as he sat quietly, listening to Aurora's appraisal. It was not an uncommon movement, a typically human fidget. Except the Dragon Star was not human, and in the body of the cheerleader had never so much as twitched all the time Sam had spent with her.

  There, again. A shoulder roll, smaller this time. The body language was like a signature. Detective Joe Milano. There was something left, something buried beneath the alien intelligence that had occupied the still-warm body, repaired the plasma wound, and flown it to the moon.

  So Sam tried to stop rubbing her eyes, and sat and listened.

  She'd never been sure of the hierarchy of command of the Seven Wonders, aside from Aurora being the leader. The other six had always seemed to rotate as deputy as the needs demanded, the expertise of each coming into play when Aurora asked. Right now, Aurora and Conroy were leading the discussion and battle plan.

  The news of the San Ventura disaster − Sam was sure a neat-o soundbite title had been devised by the news media already, but she didn't know it, and the superheroes didn't use it − had been followed by all of the superheroes of the Earth, and they all knew that that was not the end of the danger, given Aurora's summons to the Apollo Fortress. The revelation of an alien attack from the Thuban was something of a shock, but these were the best the Earth could provide, and in such numbers, there was an air of confidence in the room. An air that was steadily sapped as Aurora, Linear, Bluebell and Sand Cat gave a detailed analysis of the fight with the Living Dark and the powers granted to him by the Thuban. The atmosphere cooled and quieted as the magnitude of the threat became apparent.

  Supercharger clicked his fingers with a spark. He was another speedster, a former classmate of Linear caught in a bizarre repeat of the disastrous college science experiment that had granted superspeed to his friend. Supercharger was faster than Linear, but he couldn't fly. They were the only two superheroes who drew their power from the Slipstream.

  "We've been supposing and maybe-ing for hours. Isn't there someone in this moonbase that could just go and suck the data out of Mr Prosdocimi?"

  Bluebell shook her head and began to explain that Tony − the Living Dark − watched in his quarters by members of Force 10, had no memory of his resurrection or link to the Thuban, but Supercharger's comment stirred something in the audience. Sam realized that the superheroes were impatient.

  "There must be a residual trace," said a tall woman in a striking black and white checked cloak. She wore a simple domino mask and her black hair cascaded to her shoulders through a white tiara. "Something beyond the abilities of Bluebell?"

  Ouch. Bluebell's lips pursed. Aurora shifted his white-eyed gaze to the speaker, just slightly. "The prisoner is not dead yet, Veil. While he remains on this side of the void, your powers will not be required."

  The Veil said something to the hero next to her, a muscle-bound wrestler in skintight blue costume and red bandana wrapped around his bald head. His folded tree-trunk arms shook as he suppressed a laugh.

  "Ladies and gentlemen, we waste time." Lady Liberty. And now everyone shut the hell up.

  Lady Liberty didn't need to push her way to the front to address the conference table, the crowd just made room for her. She was only one row back anyway, but Golden God and Killswitch stepped to one side each way, giving plenty of room for her copper-green cloak to open as she raised her right hand into the air, famous torch flaring as all eyes fell on her.

  If any superhero team could be considered celebrities among celebrities, it was Lady Liberty and the Presidents of the United States of America. Sam shrank back in her chair a little, feeling hopelessly inadequate to be sitting in such a presence. She heard leather creak and chainmail rattle as all in the room paid her very close attention indeed.

  Behind Lady Liberty, Sam could just see her team of android presidents − WashingtonX, Jefferson 2.5, TR (aka Robot Roosevelt), and Absolute Lincoln. She'd seen Lady Liberty in person, just once, when she visited San Ventura and there was a governor's reception. And she'd seen the robot Presidents on TV, but being in the same room as them was − even under such intense circumstances, sitting on the moon amid hundreds of superheroes − quite a thrill. Each of the robots, constructed for ill by Lady Liberty when she was being mind-controlled by prospective alien invaders, was a perfect clone of the original leader, crafted out of an alien metal, and possessing superpowers of varying sorts. Each stood proudly in the correct period dress, their unearthly silver skins with riveted seams where one metal plate bonded to another the only indication they were not human beings.

  Aurora stood, and gestured to Lady Liberty with a gloved hand. "Please, Lady Liberty."

  Lady Liberty nodded, and stepped forward again. "We need to cast differences aside if we are to fight. We are fighting not just for our own cities and homes. We fight to defend the entire world."

  She paused and turned her verdigris features to Aurora. "Before we left Mount Rushmore, we detected the passage of the Thuban at the orbit of Saturn. Mr President?"

  It was unclear to which of her team she was referring, but it was Absolute Lincoln that jerked into life, clasping the lapels of his coat. His voice was coated in silver and mercury.

  "Madam, thank you. Fellow superheroes and patriots. We are met today on a great battlefield of war, and I know we are all in agreement that it is the responsibility of those such as ourselves, so blessed with special powers, to protect the nations of the world as one. The task is mighty, but we shall prevail."

  There was a murmur of agreement among the superheroes. Sam couldn't resist a smirk. Lincoln cleared his throat and continued.

  "I propose we defend the Earth on two fronts. Firstly, all those heroes with powers that will allow the operator to function in the vacuum of space will form a perimeter around the Earth, at a latitude and orbit to be decided. Secondly, all those heroes who cannot survive in space, or who do not have superpowers but instead special talents of unpowered nature, will travel in spearheads and enter the Thuban warship itself, once breached by the first group."

  Aurora nodded. "An admirable solution, Mr President. I shall lead the defense of the Earth. I propose Paragon leads the assault on the ship."

  Another murmur sped around the room. Lady Liberty said nothing, while the Presidents conferred behind her. Finally Kalamari Karl spoke the question all were thinking.

  "Who's Paragon?" The king of the fish folded his wide, finned arms, his tentacled mouth twitching in the inky water that filled his translucent, spherical helmet. "Ain't nobody heard of him." His accent was pure Louisiana Creole.

  Sam saw Jeannie smile. It was all a joke to that bitch. Conroy coughed politely, and looked toward Aurora. All of the Seven Wonders followed his gaze, and the room drew quiet again.

  "Paragon is the newest member of the Seven Wonders. I imagine most of you have recognized him already. May I introduce Mr Geoffrey Conroy, noted industrialist and benefactor of the city of San Ventura. Perhaps better known as the Cowl."

 

Sam found herself at the infirmary. After the furor in the conference room, when Conroy's former identity had been revealed, Sam managed to excuse herself. The superheroes continued to argue; she could still hear them as she entered the elevator at the end of the corridor. Those not in the conference room milled around the corridors of the place, debating among themselves about the nature of what they might be facing.

  Sam was actually surprised to find herself at the infirmary. She just wanted to walk, to give herself time and space to think, but some instinct or curiosity had led her there. Despite being secured for the duration of the emergency, the door opened at her touch.

  There were two superheroes in the room − an immense man made out of shiny black stone, known as Monolith, and a small, slightly short but athletic-looking superhero in a red and white head-to-toe costume, the cape of which came to just above his waist. Sam hesitated, recognizing the hero. Lawmaker, an ex-cop from San Francisco sucked into the Earth during the quake of '89, who returned with superstrength, indestructibility, and no sense of humor. Before his happy accident, he'd been reassigned to San Ventura, and to this day stories were told about him, like he somehow belonged to that city rather than his own.

  Sam knew his reputation: Lawmaker was uptight and worked strictly by the book. He nodded Sam a greeting, and continued gently punching his fist into the palm of the other hand as he stood guard over the bed. Monolith stood silently on the opposite side. Force 10 must have been on a break, which was a shame, because the decuplets were a cute family and, from what Sam could gather, far more sociable company than the two heroes currently on duty.

  Tony Prosdocimi was asleep. The twin prongs of an oxygen hose trailed from his nose, and he was still on a drip. Sam had no memory of what she'd done to him when she'd had powers, but whatever it was, it had been enough to drag his formerly deceased human form back from whatever Thuban nightmare he'd been trapped in.

  "Detective Millar?"

  Sam didn't turn from the bedside, recognizing the voice but not wanting to look.

  Joe.

  She heard the powerstaff clack against the floor as he approached. He was too close, and she flinched, then cursed the involuntary movement and turned around, holding her breath. She had to deal with it sooner or later.

  Joe looked just like Joe. Same suit, same shirt, still torn, same shoes. Just her old friend and partner from SuperCrime.

  But his face was different. The muscles beneath the skin seemed to hang differently on the cheekbones. His mouth was at an expressionless horizontal. Sam released her held breath as she looked into his eyes − far from the glassy, dead look she had expected (the Dragon Star was some kind of parasitic zombie, right?), they glittered with stars, the once-brown iris now a gold-speckled emerald, gently spinning like clouds seen from space. They were deep, and beautiful, and like no human eyes could ever be. She found herself moving closer.

  "The Thuban are approaching Earth orbit. Aurora wishes to speak to you."

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