Chapter 7

Mom was glad to have me home and Jill was over almost before I could set my communicator down after telling her I was back. That girl was fast when she wanted to be! She insisted we call Billie, since she and Billie had been getting along really well and, of course, Sherrie showed up as well. Seemed like everyone wanted to watch the Hurricane special on our television.

Mom even made popcorn. Can you believe it?

The special was actually really good, and it showcased a bunch of heroes, Jill too! It also spent almost as much time showcasing regular Americans who pitched in, stood side-by-side with the Hero League and worked to save lives. Even after the bulk of the League had left, with just the folks who called McAllen home, still at work, the regular folk worked on. Cleanup took three times as long, and rebuilding was still going on. I did make a note to call the Pastor of the First Baptist, see if they needed help raising the new roof.

They showed the bit about Seraph again, but they segued into a new segment about me, much to my surprise.

“After we showed the portion about Seraph in our morning teaser, we received thousands of phone calls showing support for the unusual hero. In fact, those calls prompted the City of McAllen to set up a charitable fund that callers could donate to and they have, to the tune of over six million dollars so far.

“Callers, from State Senator Tracy Langstrom, who pledged to do what she could to help the beleaguered coastal areas; to Movie notable Ethan Walls who offered to lend his name, or just his strong back, if help was needed. Across the board, callers were saying that this Hero epitomized what Heroes should be, humble and self-effacing, giving credit where credit was due.

“Not all of the calls were about support and one call, in particular, was accompanied by internal documents of the Texas Hero League and the parent corporation, the Hero League Incorporated. These internal memos documented the deliberate termination of employment for Seraph, simply for breaking up a jewelry store robbery without having an adult Hero present. Seraph is, according to these documents, a Junior Hero who is only fifteen years old.”

“Right now, in a NANN News exclusive, we have Barry Walsh at Hero League headquarters in Chicago. Barry?”

“Right you are Dan, and I am here at Hero League Headquarters to attend a hastily scheduled press conference where the League plans to address the termination of the young Hero that has caught the attention of the entire nation. In fact, Vice President Malcom Meyers, once known in Hero circles as Stinger, a Hero in his own right, had this to say.”

The screen cut to a static picture of the Vice President, and a voice-over. “I am curious to learn the details in this case. I was in McAllen for the hurricane relief effort and I saw this young Hero standing up to the storm, but I also saw Seraph stand up to the Texas Hero League leadership over a wrong that had been committed by an adult member against a Junior, teen member, who was there to help.

“In any case, I have also heard from the Undersecretary of the Transformation and Registration Authority, the department that watches over those affected by PRIME and, coincidentally, is the department who provides the Hero League Inc with its charter, and is also charged with oversight of the League for the United States of North America. The TRA has filed official intent to suspend the charter of the Hero League for non-compliance with national and international law concerning the treatment of PRIME powers, and specifically their treatment of junior members, who are all minors under the law.”

He paused for effect and you could tell he was serious as a heart attack, “I would suggest that the League get its house in order as rapidly as possible.”

“Well, folks, after that stunning announcement from the Vice President, we would like to bring in noted Author and retired Hero, also a founding member of the Hero League in the years after The Fall, Doctor Miles Pennington. Welcome, Doctor.”

The show went on for another half hour, with political pundits and other talking heads all spewing nonsense. Very little of what they had to say was even relevant, but there was one more bombshell that got dropped. A senior League official, number five in the company, had suddenly retired, citing personal reasons. Hyram Lane, Executive Vice President for Administration, had worked with the league since its inception and was retiring to spend more time with his family and loved ones. The talking heads seemed to think this was the first of many, but all agreed it was too early to be certain.

The shit was getting deep and, frankly, I was more than a little freaked out. The Hero League, besides being founded and supposedly run by a bunch of super-powered Heroes, was also a huge corporation that made a lot of money and wielded a lot of power. Political power. I was a teen kid with, admittedly, an attitude, and I was upsetting the apple cart.

The freaking Vice President of the United States of North America not only knew who I was, but stood up for me in front of the whole country. That was freaking scary shit! Awesome, but scary. If the Hero League really came after me, there was no hope of me stopping them. I was really worried about what would happen if folks like my mom or Billie got caught in the crossfire.

When I laid all this out for everyone, they all seemed to have the same response. I was nuts. I was being paranoid and the Hero League, except for a few non-powered hotheads, were good people.

Hell, I knew that wasn’t strictly true, Rapido and Texas Star were proof of that. Texas Star hadn’t done anything overt, but he was willing to sweep things under the rug if they were inconvenient, so I had to wonder what else had been swept under the rug.

I spent the whole night, after Jill left, tossing and turning and worrying about it. So, when my communicator rang just after breakfast, and Martin Reams invited me to Durham, well, all I could think about was if it would help or if it would hurt. I agreed to sit down with the House Subcommittee on PRIME Research and Oversight. It would not be official testimony, but it would give them my side of the story and provide some background on what Martin must have shown them.

The two weeks between the invite and the actual Committee meeting were a little tense, but Jill and I found ways to have fun anyway.

No, not like that, you sicko. Okay, mostly not like that, but a little like that, when we could.

We spent almost a week, in our alter egos, helping Pastor Whitings at his church. The church itself was in great shape, thanks to the outpouring of support and donations following that television broadcast, but there was a lot of work to do the on the grounds, and a lot of work that could be done to help some of his older worshippers.

With Jill’s speed and my TK, we would make a pretty good landscaping service and we got the entire church grounds, plus a whole heck of a lot of small chores done in the time we were there. When reporters and lookie-lous started showing up and getting in the way, we apologized to the Pastor and took our leave. He offered his blessing on both of us and, while we are not believers, either of us, we thanked him too.

We did find an exciting new hobby, one that could be turned into several new hobbies depending on the season. See, you don’t actually need a motor to go fast on two wheels, or even four. Not if you have sufficiently strong TK. Now, with Jill, she could go fast without any wheels, but she had to put on her shiny outfit that protected her against things like wind and friction and the occasional mistake like running through a chain link fence.

In her skin, she was vulnerable and not nearly as fast. Fun fact, she was still faster than Olympic sprinters, even in her regular skin, but she could get hurt too.

But, on bicycles with good brakes, I could easily get us up to sixty on the freeway frontage roads. I had to really concentrate though, because one missed pothole could send us airborne and I had to be quick on the rescue the time that happened! We switched then to the big beach tires, for safety, but they couldn’t take top speeds without getting all wiggly.

We were planning to see what we could do on Skis, and on paddle boards, when the weather was warmer.

I think the most fun we had ended up being when we bought an old farm wagon from a junk yard for only fifty bucks. It had big old balloon tires and wooden slat sides. We put a bunch of hay in there and we jumped in the back, taking it all over the side roads through the suburb near the junk yard, riding in our horseless carriage. I had to be in disguise, of course, since we were using my TK to power it, but I spent the whole day giving hayrides to city kids and it was a whole lot of fun.

I am not lying when I say I was shocked that almost every one of the kids who rode the hay wagon that day had wanted autographs. It was such a weird dichotomy. Inside the disguise, I was still geeky Mike with the okay grades and the nerdy, computer games friends. It was only the outside that was famous, so I tended to feel like an imposter when Mike was the one really doing the signing.

I was just glad we managed to get out of there that day without any reporters. I think the reason we had attracted them at the church was the length of time, four days, we hung around. Another lesson learned.

Soon enough, it was time to go to Durham.

Mom didn’t like it at all, but she was still riding the ‘My baby can do no wrong‘ wave from that last television broadcast, so she kissed me on the cheek and told me to fly safe. Jill, on the other hand, was not happy at all, but not because of what I did. I was smart and asked her if she could come along. Her parents were the ones that said no, so I got the points while they got the cold shoulder.

Flight time was about five hours if you flew commercial, but I could match their speed without having to worry about airports or pesky security procedures, so I made it to Durham, NC in about two hours. I could have made it there sooner but, for interstate flights, I had to file a flight plan by phone, and stick to assigned altitudes, either much lower and slower, or much higher and colder, than commercial planes usually flew.

Then there was no-fly zones and restricted flight zones around the capitol, which I thought were a pain since only a law-abiding super would actually pay attention to them. I guess it just made it easier to pick out the bad guys? Anyway, I was assured that it was the same way back when the capital was up north, where the District of Columbia was before it was submerged. Did you know it used to be a swamp? It is again, today, though I am told you can see the tops of some of the buildings through the brackish water.

Once I landed in Durham, there were flight corridors for local flights only, but the ceiling was a mere hundred feet and I had never seen so many people flying around at one time ever. Even during the hurricane, I never saw this many, but mostly because of the storm and the distance. From the city limit to the Congressional Hall, east of the Duke University campus, I counted thirty-two people in the air. Out of all of them, only three were in a uniform of some kind, and one was a military uniform, not a Hero!

I actually felt a little out of place in my Seraph persona, not unusual in itself, but this time it was for a whole different reason. When I got close, I saw the notification billboards announcing the no-fly zone within a quarter mile of the Congressional Hall, so I came down to street level and floated along with my head about six feet off the ground, where it would have been had I walked as me.

As I got closer, I saw that I had drawn the attention of two people in costumes, both standing on the roof of Congressional Hall. There were also several police officers who were keeping an eye on me, but I played it cool, moving at a walking pace and looking around. I did pull a shield around myself, just six inches or so out from my skin. Worst case scenario and the Hero League really didn’t want me here, I might be able to survive long enough to run away.

When I was a block away, I called Martin Reams and he agreed to meet me out front, to guide me in to where I was meeting the congresspeople. I went ahead and crossed the street, keeping my eyes on the doors so I could spot him, when I saw one of the Heroes on the roof step off the edge and float down to the sidewalk in front of me. He looked familiar but it took me a moment to bring up his name.

Patriot was one of the government heroes, working directly for the United States of North America, under the aegis of the Director of North American Security. He was said to be a trouble-shooter for the Secretary and only worked on issues that held national security implications. What he was doing here, I wasn’t sure, but he was quickly joined by Gaia, a powerful Earth Elemental and a Hero League powerhouse.

Patriot raised his hand in greeting, smiling at me, while Gaia just looked curious.

“Seraph, I have heard a lot about you recently, and I can see your fascinating appearance was not exaggerated. That is a great way to stay anonymous but still be unique. I was in the area and was told you were coming in, so I stuck around, hoping to meet you.” He shook my TK hand and grinned again.

“It is an honor to meet you, Patriot. Your reputation precedes you. If I was not here on official business, I would probably have asked for your autograph for my scrapbook.” I joked, but not really joking. I wish I had thought of bringing my autograph book!

“And you as well, Gaia, you are a legend to, well, I guess everyone? You were a legend and I was a fan when I was just a nobody teen, and you haven’t changed, even if I have.”

“Hey, nice to meet you too, Seraph! Look, I chose this duty today, even though this is usually duty for the younger heroes, because we knew you would be here. We, being the good guys. We work for the League, but we are not the League, if you get my drift. We support what you are doing and are working internally to make this right.

“A few at the top have forgotten what it meant to be normal, to be afraid and powerless. They forgot what it was like when they first started, terrified but determined to do the right thing. They have become the things we used to rail against. But not all of us. I have been with the League almost as long as Miracle Girl, and I will be heard, you can put money on that. Anyway, you are safe here, we will make sure. Now go in there and knock ‘em dead.”

Wow! Oh my freaking ... just wow!

“Thank you. I can see you are very much the Hero I always thought you would be, and it was an honor to meet you!” I gushed.

“We’ll get together when this all settles out, okay? I got your comm number.” She said with a smile, lifting off again.

Patriot gave me a wink and took off as well, joining Gaia in the air as they swept around the building and out of sight. Martin was waiting, over by the steps, when I turned back towards the building, and he raised a hand when he saw me moving his way.

“Trouble?” he asked, turning his head towards the direction the two Heroes had flown.

“No, quite the opposite, actually. Patriot wished me success and Gaia said she and others are fighting the League bureaucracy from the inside. Maybe there is hope yet!”

Martin looked thoughtful, his eyes still on the sky and, when he looked down at me, he shrugged and smiled. “We can certainly hope so. Come, let’s see if we can get some good, old-fashioned, political power to help things along.”

Once inside the doors, Martin pulled me to the side, just past the metal detectors. I was distracted by the thought that the metal detectors and explosive detectors might not pick up things in my dimensional pocket, and made a mental note to ask.

Martin pulled us into a tiny, unoccupied office and sat on the corner of the desk, looking uncomfortable about something.

“Seraph, Mike, I want to apologize to you before we go in there. See, you started a small ball rolling at the top of a very steep mountain, now that ball has become an avalanche and I am going to do everything I can to keep you, and myself, from getting buried.

“The thing is, you are what we want Heroes to be. You are idealistic with a strong moral code; you still believe that one person can make a difference and you come across as both likeable and believable. People want to believe, they want to like you and hell, most want to be you.

“Reality is...” he waggled his hand back and forth, “often different. The Hero League has been too big for its britches, to use a term my grandfather loved, for a while now. They are supposed to handle heroes, power detection and training, education, healthcare, and a host of the other things that are specific to those afflicted, or blessed, by PRIME.

“Instead, they have become a conglomerate, a massive corporate entity that cares more for its growth and power structure than it does about the reason it was created, and propped up by the government, in the first place. They have thousands of lawyers, pollsters, and lobbyists. They support local and national candidates for office and contribute to campaigns in order to gain influence.

“They are everything we warned them about, but my predecessor dropped the ball and either was negligent or complicit. Your case gave us a toehold, and we are using that to ram changes down their throats or bust their monopoly on powers. They have violated so many laws that if it were a person, that person would die in prison even if they were the next best thing to immortal.

“So. You are the face of this change and we are using you, but the real changes are going on behind the scenes, the real battle is in the boardroom and in the halls of Congress. We will not let you become a casualty, but we have thrust you into the limelight and that part, I am afraid, is just beginning.”

He did look sorry that he had dragged me into this, but sorry wasn’t going to protect my family and friends. I could even put up with the loss of privacy, the loss of my own personal life for the greater good, but I wasn’t about to roll over for free.

“Okay. I don’t like it. I hate it, in fact, but it is what it is and it sounds like it needs to be done. I have conditions, though. First, my friends and family will be protected, even if it means Patriot builds a little fort on the roof of my mother’s house. Second, if the League has been hiding criminals, sweeping crimes under the rug to protect their name or their market share or whatever, there needs to be public prosecutions.”

He seemed to be waiting for something and, when I didn’t go on, he asked, “What else? We need to get in there and I should really have the whole list so I can negotiate if needed.”

“That’s it.”

“That’s all? No money? No ... position or job out of this? You don’t want to be on the board, or the oversight panel? Nothing?”

“Maybe you have been doing this too long, Martin. I didn’t become a Hero because of money. Hell, I became a Hero because I had to, pretty much, I had the power to help and I did. Sure, the college scholarships and healthcare and whatnot were a cool perk for being employed by the League, but I would have been there during the hurricane anyway, doing the same things, if not with the same panache. I do hope you remember one thing though, if you want, you can even call it a third condition. The League is not all bad, Martin. Don’t forget that there are a lot of good people doing good things and wearing league nametags while doing them.”

“Maybe I have been doing this too long. Well, I can’t quit now. Let’s go and see what they have to say, eh, Seraph?”

The meeting with the Congresspeople was actually a lot less stressful than I had hoped. Instead of what you see on television, with the politicians up on a dais, looking down at people testifying, we were all seated around a big, oval table with coffee or tea service, ice water, and pads of paper at each place.

“Welcome, Seraph! You too Martin, we are glad you could both join us today. I know you, Seraph, didn’t have to come since this was an invite and not a subpoena, but we appreciate you taking the time to help.” A tall, distinguished looking man about a third of the way down the table had gotten to his feet to welcome us. Martin and I were given seats at the end of the table, with the Congresspeople lining both sides so that everyone could see everyone else, but the attention was definitely directed at me!

The man took a second to go around the table and introduce everyone, but the names seemed to go in one ear and out the other! Thankfully, everyone had name tags on those little paper place markers. The marker in front of the man who had welcomed us said he was Frank Tang, from Wisconsin.

“Thank you, sir. Martin was very open with us at our aborted conference earlier this week so, when he asked me to come, I wanted to help.”

Frank continued speaking, waving at his fellow Congresspeople, “We are the Congressional oversight committee that is charged with watching out for, and protecting, those affected by PRIME. The report filed by Martin the other day has us all concerned that we are either not doing our jobs, or we are being actively misled.

“No matter which of those turns out to be true, and it is probably a bit of both, we want to fix it. We are not going to be playing CYA on this. If we screwed up, we will take our lumps, but we will fix this.”. He looked and sounded determined and, as he sat down, I could see nods and grim looks on most of the faces around the table.

“Frank is, understandably, a little upset by this situation. We all got ourselves assigned to this committee because we care about those who were affected by PRIME,” a middle-aged woman, on the opposite side of the table from Frank, said. Her place tag said she was Carolyn O’Conner from Iowa.

She scooted back from the table and stood. Well, I say stood, but what she really did was lift herself up on her tentacles. From about the middle of her ribs and down, she was, apparently, an octopus. I had no idea that would even be possible!

She sat back down and waved her hand at the others. “All of us were either directly affected by PRIME, or had people we know and love who felt the effects, and so we wanted to be part of the group that watched over them, making sure that the government didn’t treat them as anything other than average citizens. I am ashamed to say that, after years of seeing no attempt by government agencies to do what we all feared, I have let other concerns take up my time, and now I am seeing the outcome of that inattention.”

Several other speakers told similar stories and, in a couple of cases, revealed their own transformations or abilities. The whole meeting was starting to sound less like an investigation and more like an attempt to get some kind of absolution, like asking for forgiveness from me could make it all better. The notion made me feel ill.

Martin, pro that he was, finally got us back on topic. Go Martin!

“Ladies and Gentlemen, we appreciate your stances and have full confidence that you want nothing but the best for those affected by PRIME, that was never in doubt by my department or, I believe, by the Heroes on the street. What we need to do now, however, is get to the meat of the matter. I invited Seraph here today to discuss her experiences with the Hero League in both its parent corporation aspect and as the subsidiary company, Texas Hero League. I think her experiences are indicative of greater issues; are not unique, and that suggests a pattern of misbehavior that we need to investigate.”

The people around the table looked a little chastised, but ready to work. The rest of the morning was spent going over, from the very beginning, my interactions with the Texas Hero League and, eventually, the Hero League parent corporation in the most recent, aborted, conference.

Martin interjected multiple points, additional issues and laid out the hard facts he had developed, as needed. When I was done, he gave a fascinating presentation, along with affidavits from various courts, lawyers, and government groups, to back up his assertions. He even showed where the Hero League’s political efforts had changed over time and how they had purchased a lobbying firm that was now being used to try and get enough votes for a constitutional amendment that would overturn the Registration Act.

That brought gasps, and a few curses, from the assembled politicians. It was a matter of faith in the USNA that the Registration Act was the most important piece of legislation passed since the Bill of Rights, and that it was responsible for our swift recovery and return to Superpower status among the world’s economies.

The Registration Act had been copied and, in many cases, altered enough to fit the situation before being passed in twenty-three countries, and was used as the basis for governmental changes in as many as sixty more. It was the next best thing to holy writ in colleges and universities, praised as being the blueprint by which world peace would finally be reached.

I know I rolled my eyes when our government teacher said that last year, but the more you look, the more you think it just might be a little bit true. It had gotten rid of some bad things in the old life, and added an inclusive, accepting and nurturing imperative to the way the government was supposed to work. Gone was the focus on Armies and Us vs Them, something that had become outdated in a world that had seen more than a fifth of its people wiped out in less than year!

When the meeting was over, we were thanked for taking the time to brief them, and assured that they were taking this very seriously. What came next, well, I wasn’t quite so sure I could forgive them for.

I mean, it made sense, in a political sort of way, and I can totally see why these people would think it was not only okay, but expected, but man, I think I will be seeing spots in front of my eyes for weeks!

We all exited the
building together, chatting and talking about everything but the meeting we had just ended. When the double doors opened and we stepped out on the front steps of the Congressional Hall, what seemed like a million flashes went off at one time and It was only my concern with protecting the Congresspeople that kept me from counter-attacking!

I created a wide, sloping shield around our whole group, making it partially opaque to block out whatever light weapon was being used, then pictured in my mind a set of force blades, needlepoint shafts of pure TK. When I scanned for the shooters’ locations, all I saw were reporters.

Hundreds of them. There were news vans in the street, television cameras on big stands and smaller units being wielded by men festooned with battery packs. Photographers by the dozens were jockeying for position and reporters were screaming out questions in the hope that they, alone, would be heard and get a scoop on their brethren.

This wasn’t an attack; it was an ambush. Someone had set up a press conference, that was certain enough, and when I turned to look at the Congresspeople, they were more interested in the shield that was between them and the press than they were in meeting my gaze.

“I have to go, I have ... a thing.” I growled to Martin, glad to see that he wasn’t any happier than I was about this. Evidently, it wasn’t his doing, but he put a tentative hand on my arm and leaned in close.

“I probably should have expected this, but I didn’t. They are politicians first and last, the rest of the stuff they do is how they pay for this bit. Camera whores, every one of them. Unfortunately, it is also the way the game is played. I really wish you would stay. If you fly off, it will make them look bad and make their job harder on this. If you smile big and pretend you are happy with them, it will make them more effective.”

I glared at him for a moment, then sighed. This sucks.

I turned to face the pack of hyenas, I mean, the reporters, and projected my voice loud enough that there was no doubt everyone for blocks heard me.

“I apologize for the shield, I wasn’t aware that we would be greeted this way,” I said loudly and clearly, seeing a few embarrassed expressions on the folks from my meeting. “I was startled, and I immediately moved to protect the Congresspeople, I am sorry if I frightened anyone.” I dropped the shield and the temporary quiet forced by my surprise announcement ended. A wall of noise, hundreds of people shouting questions all at once, was almost physical.

I made my avatar start to grow and, by the time I reached about eight feet in height, the cacophony of shouted questions had petered out and it was quiet again.

“If you will please stop shouting out questions, I am sure your elected representatives would be happy to answer a few from you. If you keep acting like this, well, I have other things I could be doing rather than to stand here and be shouted at.”

That actually got a few grins, though mostly from the people not shouting. I shrunk back down and stepped to the side, gesturing to Frank Tang, since he seemed to be in charge of that group.