“It’d be fine with me,” Liz says, having stopped halfway down the aisle. There’s a look of rage on her face, and it’s directed straight at her mother.

  “How can you not see what’s right in front of you?” Sparky asks. “He is a SUPER VILLAIN! Even as we speak, he’s holding an entire city hostage! He’s going to turn this wedding into a debacle!”

  “Looks like someone beat me to it,” Jack says dryly before flicking a finger. The electricity shoots off of him, heading straight for Nico, who glows faintly as he absorbs it. “And you’re right, I am holding a city hostage, and every single one of them is watching this, right now, so…”

  “Cold Steel,” Liz says, turning on him, “you are NOT going to make a spectacle of my wedding.”

  “She started it,” he mutters, pouting like a child.

  “And you’re my future son-in-law, so you can wait until after the ‘I do’s,’” she says, storming up to the front, not bothering to even TRY and match the wedding march beat. “Let’s get this over with,” she tells Ken.

  “Would you prefer to take a short break and rebuild the benches?” Ken asks.

  “No, we’re getting this done, just like I wanted it to be months ago,” Liz says. “Those of you that can fly, feel free,” she adds, waving at the group. A good majority of them take to the air, while Sandra shoves a hand into the sand and pulls it up. The sand rises up from the ground, wrapping over the benches and smoothing out on the top before hardening into a solid form.

  “Thank you, Gargoyle Girl,” Taurus says.

  “No prob,” she says, and then reaches down again, forming the sand into what looks EXACTLY like a gigantic throne. As soon as she shifts it into solid form, though, Reaper drops down in it, and then pats the chair seat to indicate that there’s plenty of space. She gives him a dirty look before sitting—and then blinking as the Darlin’s drape over the seat, as well.

  “What are you—” Sparky asks as she finds all five of the Hall leaders surrounding her.

  “We understand just how dangerous Cold Steel is,” Century says with a hint of cheer that doesn’t reach his eyes. “But do you really think he’s foolish enough to attack when we’re in the front row?”

  “I feel quite offended by your evaluation,” Negatia agrees. “In fact, I think we’ll sit here and make sure you realize just who you’re dealing with, don’t you think?”

  “I think that sounds like a very good idea, indeed,” Mastermental says, his voice chilly enough to make the summery beach feel like winter.

  Sparky swallows and sits down on the glass covered bench, hoping that she had bought her boss enough time with that little move.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  *Kansas City*

  There are three supers floating above the school and apartments. They don’t seem to be doing anything, save for standing guard. Cosmic glances at Bombastic for all of a second before looking at Vinny’s uncle, Flameblaster. “So you two are sure you’re not related?” he asks.

  “Why would we be related?” Flameblaster asks. “My line comes from Ireland. Boom, where’s your line from?”

  “Germany, I think,” Bombastic says, looking thoughtful. “It was a while back, though, we left before Hitler. But why would we be related?” he asks.

  “You blow things up and Flame lights things on fire,” Cosmic says. He stops, though, seeing a faint movement in the distance. “I see a man glancing our way. He’s wearing a hat.”

  “How far away?” Bombastic asks, looking, as well.

  “What, five miles?” Flameblaster offers. “Keep an eye on him, but it IS a sunny day, you know. The hat isn’t that strange.”

  “So…” Cosmic says.

  “Blowing things up and lighting things on fire are two different skill sets,” Bombastic says before he can go on.

  “But your arm turns into lava… ish, and Flame here turns into fire—”

  “Different power set,” Flameblaster says, firmly.

  “If Flint and your daughter married and had children, you could have lava grandchildren,” Cosmic muses.

  Both men stare at him, dumbfounded. They look at each other, since Cosmic doesn’t seem to realize just how WRONG that thought is—except… “Falconess IS pretty attractive,” Flameblaster admits. “But I’m a confirmed bachelor.”

  “My daughter is absolutely gorgeous,” Bombastic says, “but you’re too crusty to raise my little Keliah.”

  “Besides, wouldn’t the kid be another Falconess?” Flameblaster asks. “Or maybe… Think the kid would light on fire AND have wings?”

  “You’re not going to date my daughter,” Bombastic decides.

  “What, you can’t say you didn’t think of it, too,” Flameblaster says. “Besides, I’ve been doing decently well with Vinny. He hasn’t burnt anything down, lately. Maybe I would be a good father, after all!” He looks at Bombastic, since this is more to get his goat than anything else. They play poker together; they know each other very well.

  “Congratulations,” Cosmic says with complete sincerity. “That is a very big achievement. I still haven’t gotten the twins to not spit up.”

  Bombastic, on the other hand, scratches his cheek thoughtfully as he looks at Flint. “I’ll let you ask her on one date, just because I think she’s hard-headed enough to get the best of a crusty old bachelor like you,” he declares, grinning evilly.

  “Wait, what?” Flameblaster asks. “I was—”

  “Angela and I will take Keliah out to dinner, so you’ll have an evening to yourselves,” Bombastic decides.

  Flameblaster stares at him for all of a second, and then starts to backpedal. “I wasn’t—I didn’t—she’s going to laugh her head off before she turns me down, isn’t she?” he mutters, darkly as Bombastic just keeps grinning.

  They all jerk, though, as the security field behind them flickers and then comes into view, the lasers bright and sparking—and then, to their surprise, another wall rises up underneath, made of what looks like liquid metal. It flows into the form of a dome and then solidifies.

  “What set it off?” Flameblaster demands, turning to scan the area. There’s no one to be seen. Even the man with the baseball hat is walking away, his hands in his pockets, his head down slightly. When Flameblaster sees nothing else, his eyes gleam and he starts searching for heat.

  “There’s no one here,” Bombastic says, from the other side of the area. He and Cosmic instinctively turn to face different directions from Flameblaster. “Not even invisible.”

  “Then it must have been a digital thing,” Cosmic says. “We should tell Nico.”

  “As soon as the wedding is over, we will,” Flameblaster says. “If we can’t see anything and the field doesn’t do anything else, we’re going to wait until the big show is over.”

  “And then you can ask my lovely daughter out on a date,” Bombastic says. “Don’t think I’m going to forget that, Flint.”

  “You do realize I was just trying to bug you, don’t you? Your daughter’s gorgeous, but ah, well… she doesn’t seem like she’s looking,” he says, not saying what he’s REALLY thinking, because telling a woman’s father that she seems like a ball-buster probably isn’t the brightest idea.

  “She’s not, but one date does not make you married, Flint,” Bombastic says, his eyes still on the back of the man who’s walking away. He’s neither running nor fidgeting, but there’s still something about him that has Bombastic on edge. Maybe he’s still just as paranoid as he had been when he was younger. “Go out, Vinny would appreciate an evening alone, as well. He can call that cute little girlfriend of his, or something.”

  “Okay, I’ll ASK, but it’s not my fault if she turns me down, got it?” Flameblaster says, giving in reluctantly. He, too, looks over in the direction that the man in the hat had disappeared. “Who was he?” he asks quietly.

  “I don’t know, but there’s got to be a reason to bring up the living metal,” Cosmic says grimly. “It’s not just because of a norm, not when Nico built the system.”

  “But he didn’t do anything,” Bombastic says. “This is the perfect time to attack, since most of the Hall is gone.”

  “It is, isn’t it?” Flameblaster agrees. “Should we check on the Hall?”

  They look at each other, and then Cosmic brings out his phone. “Brother,” he says, “your assistance, please.”

  A moment later a portal opens and two dozen Cosmic officers step out of it.

  “Is this overkill?” Bombastic asks as Cosmic sends them out to guard the Hall.

  “Not for some people,” Flameblaster says grimly. “Herold is out there. It’s almost exactly like having Nico as your enemy, isn’t it?”

  “No, of course it isn’t,” Cosmic says as he returns to the air. “Nico is much more straight-forward. Oh, he’s terrifying, I won’t deny that, but Herold was hidden for decades before he made his move. At least that’s what I saw when I watched the recordings. Everything is recorded in this school, you know.”

  “Yeah, we know,” the other two say.

  “I especially love watching the little kid class,” Bombastic says, grinning at the memory. “They have a guinea pig A.I. that likes to finger paint.”

  Flameblaster looks over at him, a tiny grin on his face. “The little monster keeps getting out of his tubes, you know that, don’t you? I caught him hanging out at the swimming pool the other day. He had a little drink and sunglasses on.”

  “The tubes go through the entire school, though,” Bombastic says. “The older kids made sure of it.”

  “Doesn’t mean he doesn’t like to take a trip outside,” Flameblaster says. “Have you ever seen Skye’s pet chupacabra?”

  ***

  There’s a strange look on Herold’s face as he reaches the norms, one that they don’t notice at all. That security system, he thinks, it’s beyond what he had expected. The multiple layers reach into several different dimensions--at least that’s what the little that he had seen of the programming indicated. Oh, sure, most of the programming would take a LOT more time and effort to read, but he had seen glimpses of it. This hadn’t meant to just keep him out. It had been built to keep people like Superior out.

  Technico is ridiculously thorough, but Herold knew that long ago. In fact, he isn’t surprised over the complexity in the least. No, what had surprised him was the second layer of protection. He can’t keep the image of the metal dome spreading out like liquid out of his mind. It had been… no, beautiful is too simple of a word. It had been GLORIOUS. Oh, sure, norms might not understand using that word, but as a technopath… it had been beyond mind-blowing. Living metal is far too simple a way to describe it, but he’s almost positive that that’s what Nico would dub it. A nanobyte technology melded with some sort of transition—no, if he had to call it something, he would call it transient--metal formed from… Truthfully, he isn’t even positive that he knows all the compounds of the metal. Oh, of course there are several metals that can be malleable and take different forms, but there had been something else involved, something organic. It hadn’t been much, no, just a touch of organic added to the transient metal that—

  He bumps into someone since his mind is whirling so quickly. “Excuse me,” he says, not even looking at them as he walks around. He has to find the source of that metal—no, not Technico, there’s something that even a technopath couldn’t create.

  The crowd around him starts roaring in approval, and he looks up, seeing the large television over their heads portraying a rough looking young man covered in metal getting wrapped in electricity. The young man flicks his finger and the electricity turns into a ball, flying away. Two voices overlay the show, giving a play-by-play of what’s happening. Herold ignores them completely, watching the teen like a hawk. The steel that seems to be part of the teen’s skin moves like flesh. His face shows expressions easily, without any stiffness. Herold even sees the tiniest of movement on the young man’s wrist that looks—no, it doesn’t just look, he thinks, it IS the same metal that formed the dome.

  With that metal he wouldn’t need to steal a space ship, he could BECOME a space ship, Herold thinks almost giddily. Well, not “become,” exactly, but to create a one person ship that can be packed in a bag, or perhaps even worn as a suit when you aren’t using it! The possibilities are endless!

  He has to have that teen, he thinks, staring at the young man. He’s POSITIVE that the teen is the source of the organic properties he’d just been thinking of, and there’s a good chance he has knowledge of the other parts of the living metal, as well. He… has he ever met the kid before? Oh, sure, there was Shadowman’s brat, but… no, he’s pulling a blank. He really should have watched television more often back when he’d been in the Cape Cells. At the time he had abhorred anything that involved supers, so he’d always turned the channel. Now he regrets that fact. He also regrets losing his cat. He really misses his cat.

  He turns, looking in the direction of Nico’s little secret base, wondering once again what the man had done with his cat. Had he destroyed Micro, wiping the file, perhaps even reusing the body for scraps? That’s what he would have done. But when he stands on this side of the problem, it just irritates him. He’ll probably never see his cat, again. Perhaps when he gets out to space he’ll make another A.I. pet. It had been a brilliant little piece of work, not that he would ever admit that to Technico.

  ***

  The little guinea pig (whom the kids have named Clinky) skitters through the halls of the school, squeaking joyfully at having the place to himself—he jerks to a halt, though, as he hears a familiar whistling from the bathroom. Well, crud, Clinky thinks, he’d forgotten about Tony. Tony’s still here, cleaning the place like usual, not even watching—well, no, the guinea pig realizes, the wedding is playing on the wall as he cleans the toilets.

  Well, he hadn’t wanted to go into the toilets anyway, Clinky decides, no longer squeaking. He moves silently now, turning down the next hall, heading AWAY from the janitor. He jerks as he hears footsteps, realizing that Tony must have heard him. If he gets caught outside of his tubes, he’s going to get in trouble!

  He scurries into a room that’s being used for building desks. They’ve finished setting up the North branch of Cape High and shipped a few dozen up, so the room is almost empty. It still has enough interesting things to catch Clinky’s attention, though! He lets out a happy little trill and starts exploring, stopping at a brightly colored desktop that hasn’t had the legs attached. He jumps onto it and starts dancing around to see what programs are already installed.

  “Nyaaa.”

  The sound almost escapes him, he’s so busy playing, but it’s repeated, louder, and he goes still, looking around. The screen under his little paws changes, showing a white room, and a pixelated cat sitting in the middle. “Nyaaa,” the cat says.

  Clinky squeaks, questioningly, and then blinks as a series of zeroes and ones rush over the screen over the cat. The poor guinea pig sits down, processing the code as quickly as he would read a text. When it’s finished, he nods and sets out.

  He has a fellow robo-buddy to save!

  ***

  Jack watches his dad as the wedding goes on, noting how there’s the faintest of twitches under his eye. He’s mad. The idea of Ken being mad has him completely distracted from the whole vow making and ring giving. He’s not seen his dad mad very often, at all. Was it because the wedding was blown up? Something about that conclusion sets wrong with him. He dares to glance at Trent, wondering if he can whisper a question, but the look on Trent’s face is far darker than the one on Ken’s. Trent looks like he wants to rip into someone. Jack knows that look. His brother doesn’t get mad very often, either, but he does it a lot more often than their dad does. What’s got both of them so mad?

  He has a thoughtful frown on his face even as Liz and Taurus kiss and the crowd cheers, clapping—or at least most of them clap. Century can’t, he’s got a hand on Sparky’s shoulder. The Hall leaders look pretty P.O’ed, as well, Jack notices. He really doesn’t get why, unless it’s that showy thing that Sparky did. That was pretty rude to do in the middle of a wedding. In fact, it sort of pisses him off, too, if he thinks about it. The place is a mess. He’d liked those stupid benches; they came out pretty sweet looking. He’d even thought of bugging Sunny into helping him build a crib for his future kid, like that! You can’t exactly stick a kid in an all metal room, right? Oh, sure, you could—

  He blinks as Trent pushes him forward, stumbling slightly until Aubrey grabs his arm and hauls him along down the aisle. He looks at her as she hugs his arm to his side and moves forward with a determined expression on her face. “Why’s everyone so mad, anyway?” he asks her quietly. He’s positive she’s ready to go to war, as well.

  The entire crowd goes quiet, staring at him as if he’s an idiot. Only Aubrey lets out a sigh and pats his arm. “I’ll tell you after we’re not being filmed, hon,” she says. It just makes him feel stupider. Oh, sure, the whacko had hit him with some electricity, but that sort of crap happens all the time, right? She probably thought she’d get back into the show by taking on a villain—

  “Get her off of my island,” Liz says coldly from the back. The group looks over at her. “No, actually—the feed’s been cut, right, Andre?”

  “It has,” Andre says.

  “Then I’ll do it myself,” Liz says, stripping off the veil and dress. The white and blue bikini she’s wearing should make her look silly, but she’s sparking slightly and the sky starts to turn dark. “You dare to make a show out of my wedding, well, honestly I don’t care about that,” she says. “I wanted an Elvis wedding, I got Ken in a wig--which isn’t a bad touch, actually, but that’s not the point. You ATTACKED ONE OF MY KIDS!” she bellows, taking to the air.

  “He is a SUPER VILLAIN!” Sparky yells. “Has no one noticed that fact?!”

  “Oh, he can be a pain, sure, but he’s MINE! He’s both my future son AND a Liberty, which makes him my nephew by choice!” Liz snarls, her hair lighting up in sparks.

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25