I was the world’s first superhuman. I suppose in some ways,
that makes me responsible for everything that has happened since the Doorways
appeared. Not that it was my fault that I was sent back with these strange
powers, but that my actions which followed could easily be what kept more
people going in.
If I hadn’t run away from the authorities, allowed myself to
be tested, maybe we could have figured more out about the Doorways before it
was too late.
If I hadn’t tried to follow some idiotic notion of being a
superhero, made such a public spectacle of my abilities, maybe I wouldn’t have
galvanized so many people to take their chance.
If I hadn’t been so squeamish about stopping my opponents
for good, if I hadn’t abandoned my country for an easier life in a foreign
land, maybe the women I had cared about would still be alive right now.
If I hadn’t…
If I hadn’t…
If I hadn’t…
I closed my eyes and banished such notions from my mind. The
guilt of the survivor is a heavy cross to bear, but it is often also
misleading. I knew that none of this was ultimately my fault. People would have
kept going through the Doorways until someone else popped out first. Their very
existence would have been enough for others to take their shot at power, at the
risk of vanishing forever. And with myriad Doorways appearing around the world,
there was no way to secure them all from entry. One of us was going to be
inevitable, I just happened to be the first.
I still could have been less of an idiot about it. I spent a
few months trying to be a friendly neighborhood superhero. I stopped some
muggings, held back a flood, suppressed a forest fire, rescued some cats from
some trees, stopped a gang shoot-out, even halted an attempted car bombing of a
school.
I also fucked up a lot. I let a purse snatcher I’d stopped
walk free because I was naïve enough to think I had managed to scare them off
from further attempts at crime. I later found out on the news that the same man
had committed armed robbery later that night.
I once stepped into the middle of a negotiation and caused a
hostage to get shot. Not killed, thankfully, they made a full recovery, but
when a scared and desperate man is holding a gun to a hostage’s back, me suddenly
dropping out of the sky in a flourish of magical wind and fire was the exact
opposite way to calm them down.
I’d hated her for it at the time, but Tamara had been right
to come after me back then, and convince me to work with the government. I
should have stayed with her and Lisa after the Shadow Queen incident. If I
hadn’t run away, maybe I could have bridged the gap. Lisa, Tamara, and I, we could have been the first superhero
team. We could have compensated for one another’s weaknesses and naïveté. We
could have all kept each other in line and found a better way.
Instead, I ran to the other side of the world to keep
enjoying my little delusion of being the heroic vigilante. Tamara started her
superhuman hit squad. Lisa started her high-profile celebrity hero squad. She,
at least, probably made the best choice of us, though it still wasn’t enough.
Even I thought the “Super Fem Force” was a stupid name, that
their cheesy pin-up-girl costumes sent the wrong message, that their celebrity
status did them more harm than good. But Lisa knew better than any of us the
importance of a symbol, of public trust, of outreach. She knew what to say to
put people at ease. She knew how to wrangle a group of women who didn’t know
what to do with their new powers, and steer them towards a higher path.
But when push came to shove, despite her own great power, a
team built on glamour and good feelings couldn’t hack it in a real fight. Most
of their work was concentrated on disaster relief, charity and community
outreach. When they did fight a villain, they ended up winning mostly because
said villain was just an idiot, and the SFF had sheer numbers and power variety
over them.
When it came to battling a truly deadly and powerful foe?
That’s where Tamara’s Stiletto unit had to do the dirty work. Americans never
want to admit that the freedoms and riches they enjoy come at a high cost for
many in the world. Most are never even aware of the heinous things done from
the shadows to keep them safe and secure. The Stiletto was the superhuman
community’s answer to that: America’s super powered kill squad. Tamara sank
further into the filth, while Lisa looked the other way.
Even after Mexico, when the Stiletto was publicly ousted and
America’s standing in the world finally trashed, Lisa had to deny her
knowledge. She had to throw Tamara and her entire group under the bus, despite
all their help, lest the SFF be seen as a lie to the people. They had to keep
pretending they were the real champions, victims to the government’s
deceptions, just so people wouldn’t lose complete faith in our country and its
heroes.
In the end, Tamara ended up joining the SFF anyway, under a
new look, and the team started handling more serious battles. But the damage
had been done, and the whole time, I’d just watched from afar.
There’s no guarantee it would have worked out. But if I
hadn’t left, if I hadn’t freaked out and ran after that very first mission with
them, could I have calmed down Lisa and reasoned with Tamara, and talked them
both into a more pragmatic compromise? If I hadn’t been so concerned with
preserving my own childish view of heroism, could the three of us have found a
better, safer way together?
If I hadn’t… If I hadn’t… If I hadn’t…
Of course, if I had,
would that just mean all three of us would have ended up in that explosion, and
it all would have been for naught anyway? There’s no way of knowing. Maybe my
staying away does, in fact, have a silver lining. Instead of sharing their
fate, I remain to avenge their deaths, to make up for all our mistakes.
I was the first. Even if none of this was my fault, I still
have a responsibility to those who came after me. I started us all on this
path, and I will see us through to its end.
***
“You’re such a drama queen, James,” said Max, giving me a
smirk. “But you’re cute when you pout.” She reached over a tussled my hair.
I let out an annoyed sigh and bat her hand away. “Yes, well,
I’m glad my soul-baring plea was so amusing to you.”
“We all have sob stories,” muttered Shoggoth. The former
Doctress was now in the form of a tall man with pale skin, long blond hair, and
icy blue eyes. With “his” white suit and delicate features, a set of angel
wings wouldn’t have looked out of place on him, and yet he insisted on renaming
himself after one of the most horrific monsters in modern fiction.
I sympathized with the tendency for a bit of self-loathing.
Everyone at this table had a cross to bear, some much larger than others. I
couldn’t help but flick my gaze over to Strider and Hitchhiker as I thought
that.
We were sitting in a public park, situated on curved benches
surrounding a round stone table. Most people stayed far away from us. My
reputation preceded me and while some passerby stopped and watched us for a few
moments, even pointing, no one dared approach us. They knew who I was, and what
I was, and they perhaps surmised that the four unknown person’s with me were
likewise supers. Most didn’t want to mess with us, even if they looked
favorably upon us.
I looked over my assembled team. To my left was Max-Out, who
sat leaning with her back against the table, looking out across the park. She
was the least problematic of the group. Although sarcastic and presenting a carefree
attitude, she was the most professional and seemed the least haunted by her
sins. After her time with the Stiletto, she had done much to clean up her act
and stick to the regulations of the bounty hunter network as best she could.
According to reports, she’d never taken a life unnecessarily. Her relationship
with the jack-o-lantern villain was perhaps a biased case, but compared to the
other three, she seemed to be the most stable. I had come to her for both her
physical power and her ability to maintain a cool head.
Keeping the rest in line would be trickier, but each of them
had a talent I felt was necessary. Shoggoth, who sat next to Max, just watched
me with a cool, reserved expression. He was largely here to help keep us all
alive. Fights between supers had always been brutal, and depending on how one’s
powers lined up against an opponent, it was too easy to end up dead or at least
grievously injured. There were almost no healers as powerful as Shoggoth.
He insisted on retaining a male form, having become
accustomed to it after so many years. He kept himself under icy control,
forcing himself to maintain a general disaffected attitude. It was clear the
hospital incident, though years in the past, had left a permanent scar in his
psyche. He’d done his level best to overcome and heal, but his brutal
destruction of that gang showed that he could still snap, and that his traumas
still haunted him. I believed that, even if he wasn’t much interested in
listening to the part of him that still wanted to do good, he definitely didn’t
want to do bad. I hoped that, even as he kept us in one piece, we could help
him alleviate some of his internal strife.
To my right, Strider was staring silently at the tabletop,
appearing lost in thought, chewing a stem of wheat to complete her cowgirl
look. True to our arrangement, I hadn’t revealed the Terraporter’s true
identity to the others. I still did not entirely trust her, and it was
difficult to get a read on her. In the brief time I’d known her, she seemed to
alternate between spacing out in thought and presenting a forced positive
attitude. I had not pressed yet her on the details of what had happened in New
Gondwana, but it seemed she was determined to put that past behind her. I
simply hoped that past would not come back to bite her, and us, in the ass.
Still, her power was one that I could directly counter-act
if needed. Better still, it was also one I could boost, greatly amplifying the
range of her “terraportation”. Instant long-range transportation would be invaluable
to our mission. Beyond that, I also suspected that if this case took us as far
as I suspected, we might end up having to go to New Gondwana eventually. What
better guide than a deposed Queen with no ambitions to take back her throne?
Finally, between Strider and Shoggoth, was Hitchhiker. I’d
been the most concerned about working with her. There was no hiding her past as
one of the Fantasmas, and at first, I had worried about her chances of working
with Max. But both women seemed willing to, at least temporarily, let bygones
be bygones, and work together for now. In fact, I was surprised at how
nonchalant she was about the whole deal. There was something a little off about
her.
Her crimes very likely matched, or even surpassed, those of
Strider, but she likewise refused to allow herself to be chained by her
misdeeds. In Strider’s case, I believed it was an attempt to escape her past
and renew herself. With Hitchhiker, though, I got the impression that, even if
she did feel some remorse, she had ultimately just accepted what she had done
as a necessary evil. That or she was simply a sociopath.
I hoped I would not regret this decision, but Hitchhiker’s
power of possession and skill with espionage was exactly what I needed to help
investigate the mystery of the supervillain epidemic. I had appealed to her
general belief that she was, and had always been, acting for the betterment of
the world, and that this case was no different. Hopefully, such a sentiment
would keep her loyal to the mission, even if she felt no camaraderie with us.
It was a rag-tag group if ever there was one, but it would
have to do. In a world without the Super Fem Force, the Stilleto, or even the
Fantasmas, and with the rest of the world’s nations unwilling to lend their own
champions to assist, the ASP needed a new team to step up. I prayed that we
would be enough.
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Quite a bit of a team of super screw-ups, aren't they? Earth Mage seems to be the only glue capable of holding them together, but even he seems to have his demons.
ReplyDeleteI can only wonder what threats, monstrous or heroic, they'll face in their quest to find out what really happened to the Super Fem Force.