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Issue #65: Girl Talk (And Riley)

  I couldn’t sleep, even if I really wanted to. There I was on that thin military cot, the loose woollen blanket over my legs getting snagged by the wind every other second. I remained awake, an arm behind my head, staring at the blown out lantern hanging from the top of the large canvas tent I was staying in. We all got our own to live in, apart from Olympia, who’d blasted off into the distance about an hour ago. But one thing about us is that we were bad liars, especially when it came to each other. I can hear their breathing, I thought, sighing and giving up. All awake.

  I sat upright and pushed my hair out of my face, then leaned my cheek against my palm. I shut my eyes and stayed still, trying to let my body relax. Trying not to give into the urge of getting out of bed. Training. That was a big word. Last time that happened to any capacity, Lucas was still the guy smacking me into the floor and telling me that I’ve got to rely on my body and not just my powers. To not take up space. To be quick, agile, and use any angle I could get my hands on to win this fight. The more I thought about it, the worse his training sounded for me.

  Our people weren’t taught to fight tight and bunched like a boxer, or taught how to grapple and minimize your movements like some jiu jitsu black belt—our bodies are weapons, and they’re sharpened through combat. War. Battle and bloodshed. You fight with anything you can get. You fight using space, your body, your powers and your skill. At the end of the day, honor goes right out of the window when someone is trying to kill you dead, or some creature wants to rip your spinal cord out so they can use it as a set of toothpicks. Lucas taught me to fight like a human, and to some extent, that was true, wasn’t it? But I’d been shedding that and ignoring that from even before we fell out. But sometimes…sometimes I still fought like a human, and in some ways, that wasn’t bad.

  If I fought like Olympia said she was going to train us to do, then I was giving that side up.

  And look, humans aren’t the strongest species in the universe—on the contrary, they’re pretty fragile physically to most of what the stars have in store, but you’ve got to give it to them, because for whatever reason, the Empire has taken their sweet time getting here. Something had put a pause to their plan. To this galaxy devouring mechanical engine fuelled by bones and greased with blood that suddenly jerked to a halt when Earth came about.

  Not a single species in the Empire’s history had ever made them hesitate. Not until recently.

  I was maybe getting a little fond of the humans, even if I was having a shitty time of it. Fighting like one meant being scrappy and smart and using what you’ve got, even if that wasn’t much to begin with after everything is said and done. But for a species which constantly kept trying to fuck itself over, they believed in themselves a lot more than you’d think. Who the hell am I to bitch and moan? I looked at my hands, the scars and the nicks and the grit under my fingernails, then slowly clenched them. You hit the cosmic lottery and it’s still not enough, Rylee.

  Best of both worlds, I figured, dropping back onto the cot, arms spread, eyes shut. But Gods, you know?

  Wishing it was easier wasn’t the right way of putting it, because I had it a lot easier than most people. I mean, fuck, how many people have I seen get killed in the past few months? Just blood and guts and gore all over the place, and there I’d been wondering how I’d get my suit cleaned because I accidentally flew through someone.

  I folded my arms over my chest, finger tapping against my bicep.

  I realized why I suddenly felt itchy. It wasn’t the heat or the blanket.

  It was the realization that I’d been thinking like one of them. The same fucking people who would have put my teeth to the curb and split my skull on the cement. Is that why Older Me kept her eyes blue? She wanted to blend in. To fit in with the rest of them. See, guys, I’m just like one of you! But at the end of the day, we’re not, are we? We’re more and we’re less and I guess that kind of made us…nothing. Just things, I guess. People who lived.

  “Maybe Em was right,” I whispered. “I’ve got an ego problem.”

  But rarely do you ever meet a superhero without one, you know? Like, I met dozens when I was a kid. So many of them in their flashy costumes and wild hairstyles, because that was just the culture. They were mega stars. Actors and actresses, and oh, right, freaking superheroes who saved the world. They were meant to look more than anything that had ever come before in the face of celebrities, and I guess that translated into their personalities, their shoulders and their chins and how much they puffed up their chests. I grew up on a breakfast of superhero cartoons and went to bed devouring comic books until my eyes hurt. I’ll admit, at first it was just all so bizarre.

  You’ve got this kid who comes practically from out of space, and then she finds out these people, these fragile little people who could die tripping down a set of stairs, could also sometimes lift buildings and save the entire world as a whole. I mean, then everyone on Arkath could be one, you know? And that’s what started it, too.

  That seed of resentment got planted, because we could all be something so freaking awesome.

  And all we were back home was this scourge, this cancer, spreading through the entire universe.

  I mimicked the capes in the colored pages and the heroes on international news. I wanted to be brash and cocky and strong and powerful and loved. I wanted to catch a building and grin for the cameras, then see my face all over the magazines and the billboards. Have my chin high and knuckles on my waits because…yeah, I am a hero. A superhero. The real life thing, just like the ones of old, and not like the ones that slaughtered entire planets.

  Just ‘cause you’re powerful doesn’t make you anything special. Sometimes you’re just a piece of shit.

  I…didn’t know what that made dad, ultimately. He was a shitty father, a butcher of billions. But hey, he once saved that cat from that one tree, remember? He helped old Mrs. Haywood cross the street when he was in a hurry to get home to his kid’s birthday, but then he got side tracked and decided he should spend the day helping a bunch of blue collar guys dig up rotten building foundations, so what’s it really matter that the same guy who kissed babies and carried make-a-wish children through the clouds was the same guy who also wiped out entire civilizations? Dad saved the world times over, until the final time, when he gave them all the greatest gift ever.

  His life. The life of one of the purest heroes that had ever walked on the face of the Earth.

  But that’s not really true, was it? Dad never touched the ground when he walked.

  Only time he did was when he dropped dead.

  Maybe it was some kind of game to him, appealing to the humans, or maybe… Ah, hell, I don’t know. I don’t think I’ll ever freaking know, and that’s what pisses me off the most, because this fucking bastard looked at me with the kind of content you reserve for supervillains, and figured, hey, this kid of mine is pretty damn useless.

  And then he died, and that was that. No apology. No acknowledgement.

  He went out doing what he did best, which was lying to the world.

  And pretending he was a swell guy.

  …I hate that it’s always him.

  I hated that my thoughts, like some broken record, always circled back to him.

  I thought I’d gotten over it, but judging by my heartbeat, by the prickle on my skin… I haven’t.

  I sighed and swung my legs out of bed, then cupped my face. “Fuck you,” I whispered.

  “Can’t sleep either?” My tent flap slightly opened. Quarterback was standing in the gap, softly glowing under the moon’s silvery light. “I heard you tossing and turning for a while, and figured I might as well come over.”

  I waved my hand at the green canvas tarp acting as a floor. “Best seats in the house.”

  He chose a wooden crate to sit on. He stared at me for a moment, his golden irises watching as I gave him a quizzical look in return. Riley shook his head, then said, “I was wondering, what was that about field experience?”

  I rested on my hands, slightly leaning back on the bed. “Been fighting my entire life, sometimes even against my own body.” I chuckled dryly, shaking my head. “I’ve been working for the better part of half a year.”

  “Dude,” he said. “What’s your reality like if you’ve been up for months and it’s still not safe?”

  “What’s weird is that I can’t even tell you,” I muttered. “I’ve gotten so used to it that it’s just kinda meh.”

  “‘Meh,’ she said, because it’s totally normal to not sleep for six months straight.”

  I laughed a little. “You’re telling me you sleep just fine every night?”

  “Well, not every night, but most nights are fine,” he said. “There’s the occasional big fight, but nothing that’s gonna keep me up for days on end. That’s only happened once when I fought against this one guy called—”

  “Mind if we play a game and I take a guess?” I asked. He nodded, grinning. “I think it’s… Witchling?”

  “So that’s what you call him,” he said, nodding slowly. “But no, it wasn’t him. He’s called Samson.”

  “Can’t say I’ve ever heard of him, dude.”

  “Not surprised,” he said. “You seem like the kind of hero who fights massive monsters, you know? I had to go digging for him in Lower Olympus because he kidnapped a teammate of mine. I beat the brakes off the guy.”

  “Teammate?” I asked him.

  “Yeah,” Riley said. “Don’t you also have them?”

  I shook my head in disbelief. “Most superheroes back home treat me like the freaking plague. I’m like bad karma for most of ‘em, and… Gods, now that I really think about it, I’m mostly working alongside supervillains.”

  “What!” he said, leaning forward. “Are you an anti-hero back in your reality?”

  “I’m…trying,” I said, shrugging and honest.

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  “What are you two morons talking about?” We knew who that was before she even entered. She sat on my cot without asking and lit a cigarette using an old black lighter. She puffed, then said, “What’s so interesting?”

  “Those things give you cancer,” Riley said. “Superhero or not, it still kills you slowly.”

  “Nobody said I was here for a long time, just a moderately tolerable one.”

  “Why’re you so miserable?” I asked her. “You look the most frazzled out of all of us.”

  “That’s because I’ve actually got a job and responsibilities and taxes to pay for.” We both stared at her, and all she did was smoke and stare until she finally caved in. “Adam, you know him, right? He kinda saved the world.”

  And almost suddenly, I pretty much understood why she looked this way—stained and sweaty shirt, loose tie, bags underneath her eyes dark enough to look like makeup, and an odor to her that was pungent and musty. I kind of felt like she wasn’t telling the entire truth there, with how abruptly she stopped her sentence, but I wasn’t planning on prodding. Hell, Adam has already saved the city, but the world? I wouldn’t show my face for months.

  “She’s called Eve for me,” Riley muttered. “I don’t hate a lot of people, but man she sucks.”

  “Tell me about it!” Suits and I both said. I continued. “Have you guys ever fought him?”

  “Fought him?” Suits asked, snorting. “I beat the life out of him so badly they brought mom in to put him back together, and oh, no, suddenly I’m the one in the wrong! Like what the hell? Now he’s this big shot superhero, and I’m playing hide and seek with the public, because they’re afraid of me now or whatever. Life blows, dude.”

  I laughed a little, then said, “I ripped his arm off in front of mom, actually.”

  “That’s gnarly,” Riley said. “We’ve only fought once, but she beat me because, you know…girl.”

  We both stared at him, and Suits said to me, “You want to go first or should I do the honors?”

  He put his hands up in defence. “Not like that! The whole school would have thought I was this giant asshat if I beat up the head of the cheer team. It’s a little different for me, because we kinda grew up as siblings.”

  “Now that’s a trip,” I said. Suits nodded in agreement. “So you guys see each other every single day?”

  He shook his head. “We used to, but… things changed. A lot of things changed.” He grew quiet, rubbed his bicep, then cleared his throat. “You know what sucks the most? The fact that I can’t find a job literally anywhere.”

  “I work at Dennie’s old coffee shop,” I said. “Puts at least a little money in my pockets.”

  When I’m actually there, that is.

  “I’m telling you, get a real job, and you won’t have to start pinching pennies,” Suits said. “I know the government can be kinda difficult sometimes, but at the very end of the day, mom is always gonna be protected, and you’re gonna get access to almost the entire world’s data banks worth of information. It’s almost a free for all.”

  “Yeah, no,” Riley said, shaking his head. “I’m trying to find a normal job as I study.” He looked at me. “But how the hell do you afford rent in New Olympus? Everything is so freaking expensive. Can’t even buy coffee most days without sucking air through my teeth, and in my reality, Dennie kicked it at the start of this year, too.”

  I straightened a little. “Really? What happened?”

  “Stuff,” he said slowly, quietly, “that’d I’d rather not talk about right now.”

  “Well…” I said, easing away from that topic, because even looking at Suits told me the same thing—he wasn’t around in her reality either. I didn’t know what that meant for my version of him. Whether that meant this year might be his last, or he was running out of four leaf clovers to keep him dodging out of the chaos that was my life. And then something crossed my mind, a thought that made my heart stutter: every single villain in that city, at least most of them, knew where I lived, ergo Dennie was always in their sights, too. But surely they wouldn’t dare. Gods above, they better not fucking dare. “Emelia pays for my rent most of the time. All I’ve got to do is be a hero.”

  “Good old ‘milio,” Riley said, nodding. “Shame about his back, though.”

  “His back?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” Suits said, looking at me through her haze of smoke. “Haven’t you fought Doc Folton yet?”

  “I don’t even know who the hell that is,” I said quietly.

  “Oh,” Riley said.

  “Ah,” Suits muttered.

  I leaned forward, making the bed creak. “How bad is he, scale from one to ten?”

  Suits patted my back. “Just know he made Wasteland look like a kid.”

  “That bad?” I asked, exasperated.

  “Nah, I’m just fuckin’ with you,” Suits said. “But no, really, you’re screwed. Good luck.”

  “Thanks for the heads up, I guess,” I muttered.

  “Don’t look so down,” Riley said. “You must’ve fought someone we haven’t yet, too.”

  I thought for a moment, then shrugged. “Can’t really see anyone that major recently to be honest with you. It’s been a fight here and a fight there that leads me to one ass kicking to the next. I could probably count the amount of good things that have happened to me on one hand this year, but if the worst is yet to come, I won’t count my chickens before they hatch. But on the bright side, I got a few more awesome new powers this year.”

  “Yeah, like what?” Suits asked.

  I made a finger gun and pointed it at Riley, then shot a tiny bolt of golden light at his chest. Not enough firepower to smack him backward, but enough to topple him off the crate. I winced and said, “Still learning it.”

  “Holy shit,” he said, standing back up. His shirt was burnt and black, and I saw a glimmer of his golden lightning bolt on his chest, his costume still underneath all those clothes. “How the hell did you learn to do that?”

  “A few near death experiences, and boom, new powers.” I nudged Suits. “Or just be a real superhero.”

  “Yeah, whatever. You’re just a glorified battery.”

  I went to flick her ear, and my hand went straight through her head. She smiled at me. “For someone who works behind a desk all day long, I got a few of my own, too. Light refraction or something like that. Phase through stuff without really thinking about it. Really great for putting people in hard situations, but more covert stuff.”

  I’ll admit this internally and only internally, but that was kinda awesome.

  “What about you, All-Star?” I asked. “Anything special?”

  He shrugged. “Nothing special yet. Just a guy, really.”

  Suddenly, the tent flap swung open, and there stood the Actress in all her glory. Hell, she was glowing a soft golden color that was seemingly oozing right out of her pores. In some ways, she was almost blinding to look at, like a bulb that wouldn’t turn off. She waltzed in, hands on hips, smiling and showing off teeth that I’d long since gotten smacked out of my jaw. “I skipped the depressing parts and figured I should come and make this a lot more interesting.” She pushed her golden locs over her shoulder with a sweep of her hand, showing off tiny golden lightning bolt earrings that I totally wasn’t jealous of. “Let’s make this fun. I’ll go first. I’ve got half a billion in—”

  Suits flicked her cigarette. It bounced off her leather jacket, scuffing it with ash. “Don’t care, didn’t ask.”

  Actress gasped and wiped away the cigarette’s remnants. “Rude.”

  “Hey, I’ve been wondering,” Riley said. “You think this is the last time we’ll all…you know.”

  “See each other?” I asked him.

  He nodded, smiling awkwardly.

  “It’s like Olympia said,” Actress muttered, folding her arms. “If we live, everything will be just peachy.”

  “You are weirdly optimistic about everything,” Suits said to her.

  “Yeah, considering the universe has us in its little book of death and suffering,” I added.

  “Oh, that’s because I’m me,” she said, with another flourishing smile and softly glowing skin. “I don’t think there’s ever been a time when any of us figured we should give up, right? If we did, none of us would be here. It’s, like, common sense or whatever, ‘cause what kind of superhero goes off and dies when the world needs them?”

  “That’s one way to put it,” Riley said, laughing under his breath.

  “Exactly!” she said, clapping her hands together. “You’re all so boring and serious and grumpy. Just live a little, huh? Will it kill you to have a smile on your face sometimes? Sure, everyone in your realities that you loved and cared for are probably dead, and you, honey”—she looked at me—“sound like a hotbed of daddy issues which, thank the Gods I don’t have, because that’s so two decades ago, but at the end of the day, we’re all pretty super, and if that’s not good enough, then we’ve just got to be heroes, too.” She grinned, fists on her hips. “So, you with me?”

  I tilted my head, then stood up. They all looked at me as I said, “You stole half of that from a commercial.”

  She blinked. “What?”

  “Back in my reality, Grant—Poseidon’s kid?—has this big commercial every year, and that’s what he says.”

  Actress went red in the cheeks. The rest of us laughed as she quickly said, “I came up with that!”

  “Yeah, right, your publicists or whatever probably did,” Suits said through laughter.

  “Alright, alright,” Riley said, putting her hand on the Actress’ shoulder. “Personally? I liked the speech. It made me feel all hopeful and tingly inside, but she’s right—we get through this shit, and things will get better.”

  “Yeah, or we die trying,” I said quietly, sapping up whatever warmth was in the air. I shrugged. “But like the million dollar bimbo just said, we kinda don’t have a choice, do we?” I lowered my voice. “If I’m being honest, though, the only people we can trust are each other. The people right here, right now, and not even Olympia.”

  Riley slipped his hand off her shoulder and folded his arms. “What do you mean?”

  I shook my head. “Maybe I’m paranoid, but there’s just something about her that—”

  “Doesn’t feel right,” Suits whispered, finishing my sentence. “Too perfect?”

  “Too put together,” I said. “I mean, she’s married. She’s powerful. I just think it’s kind of like a mask.”

  “Or that’s just her alter ego,” Riley said. “The Olympia that the world finally wanted and eventually got.”

  “I don’t know about you guys, but I’ve tried to do that,” I said quietly, my ears straining to listen to the winds and the sky above. The sun was rising. I could feel the shift in temperature rubbing against my skin, even if the sun probably wouldn’t crest for another hour or so. “And maybe I was pretty shit at decision making, but you’ve got to make bad choices and even worse decisions if you want to become that. Who knows, maybe she did it all by being the greatest superhero ever, but I got myself into dark places trying to be that. Did things I’m not proud of, and hell, maybe if I kept going, I could have ended up in a different place than I am right now, you know? She’s—”

  “Or you’re just jealous of her,” Actress said. I stared at her, one eyebrow raised. “She’s strong. She’s happy. You’re still trying to save Bianca, whilst she’s got a ring around her finger. You just don’t believe someone else can do it, but…c’mon. That just means that deep down you barely believe in yourself enough to ever achieve anything worthwhile that’ll make you happy or satisfied in life, which kinda sucks, since you’ve got no hope or belief in yourself, and you’re meant to spread that hope and belief to other people who’ll be looking at you to save them.”

  We all stared at her, my chest constricting slightly. I tensed my jaw and chewed my tongue, listening to my heartbeat as we stared at one another. Then, a soft sonic boom erupted about a mile away, and then came her smell.

  Actress shrugged one shoulder. “Or whatevs. Insecurities make you break out, so stop OD’ing it, ‘kay?”

  With that, she left the tent, walking back into the semi-frigid desert.

  “I think I know why she doesn’t have a problem with dad,” I said to them. “She’s even cockier than him.”

  Or maybe that’s just confidence, and you know what? Maybe I’m too far gone to know the difference.

  “No,” Riley said quietly, looking over his shoulder at me. “I think she’s just proud to be Olympia.”

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