Satisfied that he had unearthed a sufficient amount of information, Urban compiled all his findings and emailed them to Rust, sending a text message from his private cell phone at the same time to ensure Rust checked his emails immediately.
Urban stood up and walked across the room to the floor-to-ceiling windows that dominated one wall. He looked out at the city below, his eyes taking in the sights of a bustling crowd and traffic flowing like blood along the veins of the city's streets while his mind continued to think about the Gamma Accidents of Crashton.
He held high hopes for them, and he wondered if they realized that fact...
~~~
Rust left the teens and began making his way through town, to his new apartment, deliberately taking a scenic route, something he was not normally inclined to do.
As he drove leisurely through the streets of Crashton, coasting along the road that hugged the shoreline, he absently noted the gathering of locals and tourists alike along the popular beach and boardwalk area.
A song played on the radio and he found himself singing along, even though he barely knew the words. Precisely at that moment, he recognized the euphoric state he found himself in.
For nearly nineteen years he had lived without anything that so much as resembled joy. Then everything got turned on its head, and here he was, remembering an old, almost forgotten rush of adrenalin as he became entangled in a new adventure.
He eventually arrived at the seaside apartments, parked the van and made his way up to his new home. As he entered the lobby and headed for the elevator, his mind wondered and reminisced over all the highs and lows written in the superhero job description that he experienced firsthand.
He did his best not to recall his greatest defeat or the loss of his team, but those blurry memories still managed to taint his excitement.
He knew how this story would inevitably end. Maybe he shouldn't encourage those kids so much. After all, they were still young and innocent, they didn't understand the losses they were bound to suffer one day in this particular career track.
Maybe...
Rust suddenly froze, the hand gripping his keycard suspended in the air. His sensitive hearing picked up the soft, unmistakable sound of his kitchen's dustbin lid closing.
Confused and disturbed, Rust slowly and silently opened his door, stepping noiselessly into his apartment and creeping towards the small kitchen.
Seriously, I haven't been here that long, he thought, pressing his back against the wall, feeling like a bad spy movie imitation, he listened carefully to soft, shuffling noises coming from his kitchen. How can I have a burglar problem already?
No regular burglar stood a chance against Rust Swift. He may have completely forgotten how to fly and his strength may not have been as impressive as it was in his prime but he was still more than a match for any ordinary thief that considered taking advantage of him.
"HA!" Rust exclaimed, fiercely, as he jumped out from around the corner and attempted to scare his intruder.
A box of cereal crashed to the ground, and a feminine voice let out a surprised yelp.
"Jones?" Rust said, frowning with pure bewilderment as he stared at the young woman with black hair neatly tucked in a bun, and blue eyes framed by smart glasses.
Audrey took a moment longer to recover her composure. "Okay, before you say any-"
"What are you doing in my kitchen?" Rust questioned, interrupting and completely ignoring her half-uttered command.
Audrey bent down and began cleaning up the cereal that scattered all over the tiled floor when she dropped the box out of sheer fright. "I... had to check up on you," she admitted, sounding almost ashamed. "And just as well I did," she said, her voice changing to sound as indignant and assertive as she typically did when Rust did something she did not approve of... something that happened way too often. "So far, you seem to be surviving on children's cereal, cola, and chilli-flavoured chips!"
"I can explain that," Rust assured.
"You eat like an eight-year-old!"
Rust smiled at his assistant's enraged concern. "Audrey: you are not my daughter. You're not even my assistant anymore. You do not need to go through my cupboards and take care of my diet."
"I know, I know," Audrey fumbled, fiddling with her glasses, nervously. "I just... don't really know what I'm supposed to do now."
For once, Rust stayed quiet and didn't interrupt as he realized the Hero College graduate wanted to get something off her chest.
His silence prompted her to continue.
"It's just..." she began, pausing to sigh and sit back on her haunches. Rust bent down to her level so she could look him in the eye as she confessed. "When I graduated, I thought I had it all figured out. I had high enough marks to get any job I wanted in the Superhero Community. I could even take a position on the Board of Hero Education. But... Danger called me up and sent me on the crazy task of finding you and setting up a superhero team of gamma accidents and now... I can't work at a desk, Rust. I can't file paperwork, I can't handle board meetings and I can't waste my life and my abilities checking reports. There's this whole other side to being a part of the Superhero Community that no one ever taught me about."
"So you thought you'd become a super nutritionist?" Rust teased.
"I was just hoping you'd give me some pointers, just tell me what this world needs, what kind of hero I should be."
"Jones," Rust said, honestly, "I don't know what advice I can give you. I haven't been a part of the Superhero Community for close to two decades. I don't even know what you mean by what sort of hero this world needs! But I know there will always be a place in this world for people who want to save it. And -"
Before he could even begin his next sentence, his cell phone chimed, alerting him to a received message.
"Who's it from?" Audrey asked as she stood up.
"Urban," Rust responded, simply, as he read the text.
"What mess did you get yourself in now?" Audrey questioned, warily.
"Oh, I didn't do anything," Rust assured her, leaving the kitchen to rummage through the still packed cardboard boxes dominating the living area. "Have you ever heard of the Gypes?"
"Yes," Audrey replied. Despite her confused frown, she continued, "They're a race of aliens who specialize in technology that can manipulate and drastically alter biological life-forms. They tried to invade Earth twice. They were unsuccessful both times. In 1879, angry farmers scared them off, and thirty years ago, I think G-4 stopped them. They haven't made another invasion attempt since then."
"Wow. Do you actually have a brain or is it just hard-drives and circuits in your head?" Rust asked, surprised at the young woman's ability to remember and recall facts with pinpointed accuracy.
"What are you looking for?" Audrey asked, pointedly, ignoring his jab at her intelligence.
"Urban sent me an email. I'm looking for my laptop," Rust answered, opening a cardboard box labelled "Linen" and carelessly tossing out random books.
Audrey ignored the urge to chastise him for incorrectly labelling the boxes. "Is this about the Gypes? Do you think they've come back?"
"It's at the bottom of the list, but it's still a possibility. AHA!" Rust exclaimed as he pulled a laptop hastily encased in bubble-wrap out a box labelled "Dishes, Glasses, Mugs and Cutlery."
Audrey quietly seethed. She only gave him one job...
"Do I want to know what's really going on?" Audrey asked as she took the laptop from Rust, set it up on the small table just outside the kitchen and turned it on.
"Flying sharks," Rust said, assuming it was a suitable explanation.
Audrey rolled her eyes as she waited for the laptop to wake up.
17
Jack called in a few favours from his workmates and managed to leave work early. Stepping out Maniac Pizza, he immediately saw his friends waiting for him at the edge of the boardwalk.
Mid-afternoon in Crashton meant pedestrian traffic along the boardwalk wasn't as heavy as during the lunch
rush. Local folks and holidaymakers alike spilled onto the beaches to embrace the loving sun.
"Hey," Jack said as he approached the triplets and his neighbour. They sat on the edge of the old wooden boardwalk, swinging their legs over the lapping waves, looking every bit like a group of teenagers enjoying their summer vacation. "Where's Dean?"
"He went to get us some back-up," Ty answered his friend.
Jack mildly frowned as he sat down between Bella and Caleb. Still wearing his Maniac Pizza red shirt and long black pants, he looked out of place amongst his friends dressed in simple T-shirts and board-shorts. "Who's back-up?"
"Lacey Smallwood," Bella replied, simply.
"And why do we need back-up?"
"Because," Ethan said, casually holding up the phone Ty had accidently picked up while he and Jack snooped around the strange underwater glass dome. "We have a plan."
"Sweet. What is it?"
Taking turns, the others explained the plan they formulated in Jack's absence.
"So we just hang around the docks and spy on some delivery?" Jack summed up. "We don't even know who we're looking out for. The docks near the harbour won't be empty. How are we gonna know who to watch for?"
"Ethan and I scoped the place out just a few minutes ago," Bella said. "There's a ton of construction going on down by the harbour, which means a lot of convenient scaffolding is set up. If Dean manages to get Lacey on board, that means the seven of us can split up, hide in various spots around the docks, giving us a view of the entire area. At least one of us will see something."
Jack nodded, slowly, as he understood his friend's reasoning. "Alright. But what do we do if we actually see something?"
"If we each take a camcorder (or use our phones), we can record whatever delivery we see," Ethan explained.
"And then we can show the video or videos to Rust," Caleb added. "From there, we'll just..."
"Wing it?" Jack finished.
"Yeah, pretty much," Ty said. "You know, like we always do."
"At least it's a part of a plan," Jack conceded. "That's more than what we normally have to work with. Well," he stood up and clapped his hands together, "I'm impressed, guys. Lead the way: I'll follow."
~~~
The email from Urban Danger contained many attached files, all of which Audrey dutifully scanned through.
She was in her element as she opened the files and read through pages upon pages of extensive information about the Gypes, their invasion attempts, the subsequent foiling of their invasion attempts, and what happened to the technology they unintentionally left behind.
Boredom overtook Rust within minutes of Audrey opening the first document. His former assistant smiled to herself as he excused himself, saying he'd rather unpack the boxes. She thought he would never get those boxes sorted out!
Audrey didn't really know what was going on but she knew Rust needed a summary of the information contained in Director Danger's email.
"Most of what Director Danger sent is just cover stories," Audrey said, continuing to search through the documents. "And a lot of grainy photographs."
"Keep looking," Rust encouraged, half-heartedly, as he opened cardboard box after cardboard box, sorting through the contents.
"Okay, I've passed the conspiracy theory section," she announced. "Ooh, I found the Superhero Community's official report."
"That should be a page-turner," Rust commented, sarcastically.
"Hey, you're suspicions were right," she said, her eyes continuing to scan the laptop's screen as she spoke. "The Gypes left behind truck-loads of technology."
Suddenly interested, Rust abandoned his self-assigned task of unpacking boxes and crossed the room to read over Audrey's shoulder. "Who got a hold of the stuff?" he asked, frowning as he read the screen, attempting to catch up.
"District 61," Audrey replied, simply, as she scrolled through the current document and pointed to a portion of highlighted text.
"That's not good," Rust said, darkly.
Audrey's eyebrows knotted together in a confused manner. "Wait, why is that bad? I thought District 61 did good."
"Yeah, I know what they teach you in Hero College," Rust said, a grimace contorting his features. "They probably tell you that District 61 is the Superhero Community's best friend, that they help cover for us and make sure the rest of the world never finds out about us or aliens."
"Yes, that's what we're told," Audrey confirmed, slowly and uncertainly, a frown sneaking onto her own face. "Why don't you trust them?"
Rust sighed, deeply and gruffly, and began pacing the living room crowded with boxes and furniture yet to be arranged. Audrey turned around to face him as he explained with an irritated tone, "District 61 is a little section of the government responsible for dealing with all the crazy stuff the rest of the world has to stay ignorant about. Alien invasions, superheroes and supervillains... every conspiracy theory that exists, they're in charge of keeping it just that: a theory.
"But they do more than that. They don't just come in and clean up after hero and villain showdowns or alien invasions. They assign entire teams of scientists to take apart all the stuff that should be destroyed: everything from supervillains' evil inventions to alien technology. Then they begin reverse engineering and before you know it, that dangerous tech finds its way into our everyday lives. How else do you think microwave ovens came about?"
Audrey remained silent for a moment as she processed what Rust told her. "So... what does that mean now?" she asked, a hint of worry lacing her tone.
"It means someone figured out the Gypes' technology... and I doubt they have 'honourable' intentions."
"What do we have to do?" Audrey asked. "I mean, if what you say is true, calling for help from the Superhero Community would just restart the cycle, so obviously we're on our own now."
Rust stopped pacing: he hadn't even realized he had started. As his mind worked to reach a solution, his eyes blankly stared out the glass sliding door that led to the balcony of his apartment.
Audrey watched him, examining his expression, hoping for the slightest clue that would give away whatever went on inside his mind.
"This isn't our job," Rust said, abruptly.
Audrey immediately opened her mouth, ready to protest, ready to shoot down any reasoning he dared to use.
Once again, Rust didn't let her say a word. "But we're gonna sort it out anyway," he said with an odd mixture of resolution and annoyance. He snapped around and pointed to the laptop. "Audrey, see if Urban gave us any hints on which scientists worked on the Gypes' tech. I need a name and an address."
Audrey smiled to herself as she turned around and again began going through the documents Urban Danger sent. "Only one scientist was assigned to the Gypes' technology," she said, promptly, as she read the information. "A Doctor Noah J. Harmica."
"What kind of a name is Harmica?"
"It's his name. But I can't find any of his research notes. Actually, I can't find anything on him."
"Figures," Rust said, rolling his eyes. "District 61 isn't sloppy: they're not going to leave all the details of their employees lying around for just anyone to find."
"Good thing we're not 'just anyone,'" Audrey pointed out.
"I'm not a hacker, Jones," Rust informed her. "I can't find dirt on anyone. If Urban didn't send an entire file on this scientist guy, then it means he can't find anything himself. Or... he's baiting me."
"Well, this guy's our only lead so far. I can keep looking until I find something else. There are at least eight more files Director Danger sent. I can -"
"That won't be necessary," Rust interrupted her, bluntly.
She tried not to show how much the interjection aggravated her. "Why?" she asked.
"Because I know someone who can help us... someone who once worked for District 61..."
18
Professor Oscar Darkins never entertained guests. Perpetually engrossed in his work (or hobby, as many preferred to call it,) of building highly intelligent
robots or creating oddly coloured chemical concoctions, people rarely disturbed him.
In the basement of an old apartment building in Crashton, the professor managed to rebuild his elaborate laboratory from scratch. It took quite some time to reinforce the walls, ceiling and floor but, in the past, he found it to be highly necessary to ensure the frequent explosions wouldn't cause the entire building to collapse. His neighbours had a tendency to complain when such an event occurred.
The landlady, a rather confused elderly woman, only allowed him to live in the basement because she was, frankly, oblivious to his strange activities.
Oscar Darkins was a genius and a superhuman, with the ability to turn his entire body invisible. Once upon a tragic time, he walked the path of an evil mad scientist. He gave up that gig and chose to use his abilities (both physical and mental) to save the world. Time crept up on him, and he had to make another choice: retire from superhero duties and leave it all behind him, or continue as a teacher at Hero High.
He chose the latter.
Second to deciding to become a hero in the first place, this career choice was something Darkins never regretted. He could devote himself to his love of mad science while still using his powers for good. Darkins never imagined he would enjoy it, but he found contentment in training the heroes of tomorrow to understand the fascinating world of science.
However, during summer vacation, Darkins wouldn't hesitate to admit he quite enjoyed devoting his time to his favourite "hobby" without distraction.
Nevertheless, today, a distraction sprang up.
The foreign ring of a doorbell met Darkins' ears as he sat at his cluttered desk, catching up with some very important reading. He sat up straight, suddenly, and searched for the source of the unfamiliar noise with alarm.
The basement/laboratory was never silent. Even though he wasn't hammering, drilling, or mixing unknown substances together to achieve an explosion: the laboratory was not a place of noiseless solitude. Multicoloured concoctions bubbled away in beakers and test tubes; unassembled robot parts mindlessly twitched and jerked; and a couple of roughly severed wires sparked with live electricity at regular intervals.
The slightest of noises in this environment would easily unnerve someone unfamiliar with these surroundings, but Darkins viewed the strange clamour as a comforting symphony playing in the background.