Chelen City: Chapter Twenty, Part One

Notes: Fallout from the decisions of the last few chapters, and HOOBOY one of our girls isn't happy with the way things are going. Time for Elanus to step up and parent before his kid, you know, decides to blow up the planet or something.

Title: Chelen City: Chapter Twenty, Part One

 

***

Chapter Twenty, Part One

 

Elanus wasn’t sure why he’d expected Catie to take the news that Kieron had been kidnapped harder. Sure, she was his more expressive child, dramatic for the sake of it sometimes, clever but petulant, emotional in everything she did. But Lizzie had taken to Kieron like…what was the old Earth saying…like a duck to water. She’d adopted a lot of his mannerisms and given him a special nickname. She loved Elanus, but she adored Kieron, and after the revelation that he was being held captive at the Stellar Cabinet—

“Whoa, whoa!” Elanus held up his hands in an effort to soothe as the entire house went dark. “Sweetheart! Disconnect from the house control, Lizzie, disconnect. Babe, you’re going to wreck a lot of electronics if you don’t—”

“I. Don’t. Care.”

Holy shit, what was that voice? That voice sounded downright demonic. What was going on inside of Lizzie?

“Lizziieeee, stop!” Catie’s skin flickered with a rainbow of colors as she exerted herself to push Lizzie out of the household system. She was second-gen, with more advanced hardware than Lizzie’s patchwork, after-the-initial-build upgrade—it should have worked.

But it didn’t.

“Daddddeeee, help!”

“Lizzie!” Elanus ran for the stairs and bolted up another level to where Lizzie was berthed. The entire room was pitch-black, except for a deep red light pulsing in the center of it. That was a warning light connected to the engines…Lizzie was trying to power up.

We don’t even have the bay doors open, she could torch the entire house! Activating his implant’s nightvision, Elanus jogged over to Lizzie and put his hands on her nose. She was shaking, furiously working to override her safety systems. “Sweetheart,” he said. “Please. Stop. I know you’re worried, but this isn’t going to help Kieron.”

“I will go get him.”

Elanus shut his eyes and leaned his forehead against her hull. “The defenses around the Stellar Cabinet are too good, darling. We need to make a plan that will keep you safe too. I promise,” he said, realizing he was being rash but not able to care anymore, “that you’ll be the one to do any retrieval if that’s the way the plan goes. Okay? I swear it. But we have to do this smart, sweetheart. For you and for Kieron. Please.”

The rumbling and shaking gradually came to a stop. The ambient lights came on slowly, and Elanus exhaled in relief when the engine’s warning light finally stopped blinking. “That’s my good girl,” he said, stroking one of her struts. “I knew you could do it, thank you sweetheart.”

“How are we going to get him back?” That was closer to Lizzie’s normal voice, if a bit higher than usual. “I want Kee. I want Kee. I want Kee.”

“I know you do, sweetheart, so do I.” Shit, did he ever. He wanted him here so he could blister his hide with how angry he was, so he could lay him down and love him until he made him fall apart, so he could cry on his shoulder and tell him that if he ever pulled shit that broke their family again, could he just kill Elanus first? “But we need a plan. We’ll make one, a good one. And Restaria knows better than to kill Kieron, trust me. Xe’s not stupid.” Although he was rethinking that after the stunt xe was pulling right now.

“Daddeee.” Catie spoke out tentatively. “I’m surveying the Steeeeellar Cabinet now.”

Huh, that was…good, but— “How?”

“I hacked into several of the private satellite arraaaaays. They won’t notice, I prooomise.”

“Good job,” he congratulated her. “I’ll just—” He started to move away, but Lizzie immediately began to rumble again. “I’ll just stay right here,” he continued, “with your sister while you run some reconnaissance. Talk to me about chatter.”

“None currently exiting the Caaabinet.”

“Who’s officially in residence there?”

“No one but Vice President Saaanclare. But…there’s a larger distribution of people on the Cabinet than there should be.”

Elanus frowned. “Distributed how?”

“Cooooncentrated around Vice President Sanclaaaare’s quarters.”

Interesting. “How are you getting your tomographical data?”

“Triangulation from multiple localized souuuurces and increased power to impact detectors. I maaaaay have shortened the life of many of their compooonents as a result.” She sounded a little abashed about it.

“I’ll replace every single satellite out there if I have to, you keep it up,” Elanus said. “You say there’s no chatter going out. Why is that? Is no one trying, or is there a block?”

Catie was silent for a moment, then said, “Block. Not from withiiin the Cabinet itself. The block is coming up from the plaaaanet.”

Oh. Oh. Huh. “And you’re sure Restaria is actually on the Stellar Cabinet?”

“All available data indicates yeeeeees.”

Aha. This was…this was a hit. But it wasn’t the kind of hit Elanus had first been thinking. “All right,” he said to himself, rubbing one temple. He was starting to get a headache—he’d be spending time in a Regen unit tomorrow for sure. But first things first. “Catie, get me the most accurate data you can on President Moreno’s location. Keep monitoring the situation on the Cabinet—I want to know if the concentration of people begins to shift rapidly at any moment. See if you can get a handle on what it would take to break the block around the Cabinet. Lizzie?”

“Yes?” she asked, still sounding breathless.

“I need to let go of you.”

She made a high-pitched whine, and her lights began to flash again. “No, no baby, no,” Elanus assured her. “Not for long. Just long enough to get my EV suit on.” His custom suit was down in Catie’s bay, and while he didn’t anticipate getting into a firefight up there, better safe than sorry. “Then I’m coming right back up, and you and I are going to fly up to the Stellar Cabinet. You’ve got your stealth skin upgrade working, right?”

“Yes, Elanus.”

“Good.” They were going to need it. “We’ll get him back, sweetheart,” he said. “I promise, we’ll get him back.”

And then, after their inevitable fight, he was going to tie that jackass to the bed for a week.

Maybe two.

 

Chelen City: Interlude 5: Kieron

 Notes: GET READY FOR PLOOOOOOT! Things are about to get messy, my darlins. And exciting! Can't forget exciting ;)

Title: Chelen City: Interlude: Kieron

***

Interlude 5: Kieron

 

It wasn’t the most comfortable space flight Kieron had ever had, seeing as he made it in a secure storage locker, but it was at least short. Only a few minutes after takeoff from Chelen City and the pilot announced their arrival at the Stellar Cabinet. He was unloaded—rather roughly, someone should have put a damn “Fragile” sticker on this locker—and transported via hovercart to a quiet, almost noiseless place. A few moments later he heard a door shut, and shortly after that the locker was opened.

“Mr. Carr.” A rather attractive face looked down at him—elegant squared jaws, high cheekbones, and a sweep of glossy black hair that coiled like dozens of snakes around xir head. Xe was smiling just a bit. “Thank you for joining me on such short notice.”

“I’d say it’s my pleasure, but it isn’t.” Kieron ignored the hand xe offered and got out of the locker on his own. “Mx. Sanclare.”

“Restaria, please.” Xe pointed at a cart over by the wide, oval window on the far wall. “May I get you a drink?”

Eh, Kieron was the one who’d agreed to have this meeting, he might as well keep up with the trappings of one too. “Fine. Whiskey, straight.”

“A man of strong tastes,” Restaria murmured as xe walked over to the cart. Kieron joined xir, vaguely aware of a series of sounds starting up in the walls around them. They were rhythmic pulses, a bit clunky here and there—some sort of pressure plates, perhaps?

He forgot about the sounds as he got to the window, though. He could see the beautiful arc of Gania spread out before them, its clouds swirling mosaics of grey and blue and even pink in places, and he was struck for a moment by the incredible beauty of the place.

“Lovely, isn’t it?” Restaria handed over his glass, then lifted xir own in a toast. “Cheers, Kieron.”

“Call me Mr. Carr,” he said before drinking. He filtered the alcohol slowly over his tastebuds, testing for additives…but no, this seemed to be nothing but exceptionally good whiskey. In fact… “Elanus has the same brand,” Kieron said, looking at the glass.

“He and I share many of the same tastes.” Restaria motioned at the couch beneath the window. “Please, sit down and allow me to explain the position we find ourselves in.”

Kieron sat, but he found it impossible to relax. He felt as though he was a mouse lured into a catterpet’s lair. Maybe he shouldn’t have been so quick to agree to come up here. “I think there’s not much more to know,” he said after taking another sip. “You’re working to perpetuate an endemic illness in the population that serves no purpose other than to keep your cleverest people from achieving everything they could. It’s sick, it’s eugenics, and it’s going to be stopped.”

“That’s one perspective on it,” Restaria said, eyes pensive as xe stared into xir glass for a moment. “Allow me to present you with another one. Originally, Elfshot Disease was truly endemic in the population of Gania. It occurred naturally at the levels you see it recreated now. What you might not know is that our scientists successfully ended the natural strain of this illness several generations ago.”

Kieron frowned. “Yeah, and then you continued to poison children despite that. I’m not sure what you’re getting at, but—”

“Allow me to finish,” Restaria cut in smoothly. “As I said, we ended the endemic version of this illness over eighty years ago. However, shortly thereafter, Gania submitted an application to be accepted into the Central Planetary Alliance. We’re not far out enough to be considered Fringe, but not being an actual part of the Central System, the application process was a long one. We were promised great rewards as a result of our membership, including heavy investment that would particularly benefit the most…elevated members of our society.”

“Bribery. Got it.”

“Admission to the CPA came with a price, however.” Restaria’s deep blue eyes glittered, perhaps with sorrow, perhaps with anger. Xir face didn’t give anything away. “We were ordered to reinstate our ‘population controls,’ or face a denial of entrance that would leave us destined to become the favorite hideaway of every smuggler and mercenary this side of the galaxy.”

That…hmm. “But why?” Kieron asked.

“Gania has one of the highest collective intelligence quotients among all inhabited planets,” Restaria said. “No one is sure why, exactly, but our people are more clever, more resourceful, and more daring than the average population on every other planet in the CPA. The planets of the Central System, particularly the big, establishment places like Olympus, disliked the very idea that we might be able to go head-to-head with them in any way, but particularly in terms of innovative technology. They couldn’t get away with giving us less than they’d give another member of the Alliance, so they opted to require us to make ourselves less.” Restaria sighed and took a sip. “And our leaders did.”

Kieron shook his head. “That’s completely fucked up.”

“Not everyone has the strength of will to go it alone in the galaxy,” Restaria murmured. “And even then it rarely works out for the best. Look at your own colony.”

Now wasn’t the time for thinking about the abysmal ruin that was Hadrian’s Colony. “So, fine, your leaders accepted the bribe and instituted a system that let them inflict generational pain on the smartest of your own people. But you’re a part of that system now. You, who have personally been given Elfshot Disease by your government, are colluding with them to infect others! Innocent children who’ve done nothing except excel at the tasks they’ve been presented with.” He set his glass aside, suddenly unwilling to keep drinking with someone he inherently despised. “How do you justify that?”

“I don’t,” Restaria said. “But that’s not an entirely accurate picture of the situation, either.” Xe set xir own glass aside as well. “It all comes down to Elanus, actually.”

“To Elanus.” Kieron raised an eyebrow at xir. “Don’t get me wrong, I’d never underestimate his importance, but he’s just one man.”

“One man with a revolutionary idea.” Restaria smiled. “I knew him in school, and I saw the seeds of determination then that I was certain would carry him to greatness…as long as he lived, of course. And because he got a powerful patron whom he made very, very rich, he did live, and thrive. Then he struck out on his own, and…well. Lifeship Enterprises is one of the largest and most profitable companies in the entire CPA.”

“Yes, it is. What’s your point?”

“My point,” Restaria said, “is that I, and some others, feel like it’s past time to push back against the draconian rules the Alliance put in place as a condition of membership. I was overruled, however, by the members of the ruling class who benefit from the status quo.”

“You are one of those members,” Kieron said, not able to let it go. “You’re in charge of the program! We checked, and…” His voice trailed off as he looked at Restaria’s impassive face. “You knew we were looking,” he finished. “Didn’t you?”

“Of course.” Xe shrugged. “I told you I know Elanus. He never relinquishes problem once it captures his imagination. Once he was caught, it was just a matter of triggering massive action.”

Kieron stared hard at Restaria. “I’ve got to warn you, you’re going to get more than you bargained for since sending that virus against our house.” And Catie.

“That wasn’t my idea, but it was one I had to support under the circumstances, or risk being removed by President Moreno. And Elanus rose to the challenge.”

“You traumatized him,” Kieron said angrily. “You traumatized his children, you—” He stopped too late, but Restaria just nodded xir head.

“I thought he’d managed it,” xe said quietly. “After Deysan’s brazen theft of the ship, giving up everything he’d worked for for a single piece of technology…I knew Elanus had to have done it. Mr. Carr, you’re rubbing elbows with truly extraordinary people.”

“I know.” It wasn’t like Kieron didn’t understand how incredible Elanus and the girls were. “And you’d better get to the point, because I’m sure they’re already plotting how to get me out of this.”

Restaria nodded. “I’m sure they are. I’m counting on it, in fact.”

Umm… “Why is that?”

“Because the president has put me under an assassination order, effective as of this morning,” xe replied. “He moved before I had all my contingency plans in place, and I didn’t have time to fully realize my exit strategy. I even had to dismiss my bodyguards, since Moreno has been footing the bill for them. I wanted to do this politely, but that turned out to be impossible. Hence…” Xe gestured at Kieron. “Utilizing you as a part of my exit strategy.”

All of a sudden, the sound in the walls increased ten-fold, and the lights went from warm and natural to blinking red and yellow. “Moreno’s first assassin has arrived,” Restaria said. “And we’re cut off from contacting anyone on the planet. I programmed a series of failsafes into my quarters here, but they won’t stop the most determined from killing us.”

Kieron stared at Restaria for a long moment, marshalling his sense of purpose through the confusion, fear, and desire to punch this person in the face. “Fine,” he said at last. “Where are your weapons?”

Restaria finally looked a bit taken aback. “There’s no need to worry about that, I’m sure no one will get close enough for individual combat.”

“I don’t care how sure you are, I care about making sure I live through this. Now give me a weapon, I’m sure you have some nearby.” In a culture accustomed to assassination attempts, it would be foolish not to.

Xe got up and led the way to a cabinet, where xir palmprint opened it up to reveal an elegant display of state-of-the-art weapons, including an energy pistol and a lightsword reminiscent of a children’s movie. Kieron ignored them in favor of a set of hypodermic darts, a single-edged dagger, and a baton that extended up to five feet long.

“My bodyguards preferred—”

“I don’t care what they preferred,” Kieron said briskly. “They’re not here. I am. Unless you’re good with any of those other things, then close that up and find a place to hide. We’ve got to survive long enough for Elanus to rescue us, at which point you better be ready to defend yourself again, because he will be pissed beyond all measure at you.”

Restaria nodded. “I understand.”

Kieron laughed. He knew he sounded a little insane, but he didn’t care. “Oh, I don’t think you do. Not yet. You will, though.”

Story Excerpt: Where There's Hope

 Hi darlins!

Why yes, there should be story today! But you know who celebrated birthday parties over the weekend and whose daughter had no school and then a late start? This lady! So as time has compressed and vanished in some tricksy way, today I'm posting the beginning of my upcoming release "Where There's Hope" (yep, it's a Panopolis book) for your entertainment instead of Chelen City.

Or maybe I'm just evil and drawing out the suspense a little more. Muahahahaaaaaa..... ;)

***

Where There’s Hope

 https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CS3LJ9V3/

Chapter One

 

“Boo!” Jamie Fletcher put his cereal bowl in the kitchen sink, then looked around for his roommate. “Boo, c’mon, we’re going to be late!”

No one appeared. Jamie sighed and grabbed the loose-knit gray sweater off the back of his chair, throwing it on over his T-shirt even though it was already in the seventies outside. “Boo, come on.” He wasn’t about to be late today, not his first day back at work after over three months out. He’d gotten regular updates, of course, all the pictures and videos he could ask for, but it wasn’t the same as being there.

He looked in the living room, pausing to glance under the squeaky leather sofa. Nothing. He checked the bedroom, where Boo often liked to go have a nap after breakfast. Nothing. He checked the bathroom and the front entrance, but no Boo. That only left one option.

Jamie stepped through his back door into the fresh morning air, inhaling deeply as the scents of honeysuckle and half a dozen varieties of peony greeted him. It was going to be a gorgeous day, definitely a good one for spending lots of time outside … but if he didn’t get Boo moving, they’d both be in trouble. “Boo?” He patted his knees softly, making the low whistling sound that Boo was trained to key in on outdoors. “Boooooo …”

He checked the vegetable garden, running his fingertips over the tops of the tomato plants, so heavy with fruit they looked like they’d fainted. “I’ll get you all some cages,” he promised them with a wince. Honestly, the whole garden was a little … much this year. Corn stalks ten feet tall? Summer squash that could be mistaken for pumpkins? Definitely no-no’s. Jamie was grateful that his garden was shielded from his neighbors by a convenient stand of trees, cradled in the bend in the Onyx River his home was snugged up against, because otherwise he’d have some serious explaining to do for any nosy looky-loos.

Jamie’s phone buzzed. He pulled it out of his back pocket, checked the message, and bit his lower lip. “Boo, c’mon, or Laurel will call in the cavalry!” It wasn’t like Boo to be so reluctant to come to him … unless …

Jamie turned and jogged to the far corner of his backyard, where an elegant white oak tree cast a leafy shadow over a patch of wild strawberries. At the very edge of that patch, right up next to the fence where the washed-out morning light almost didn’t illuminate him, was—

“Boo!” Jamie knelt down next to his massive French Lop rabbit and laid a hand on the bunny’s head, trying to catch his breath. “Ugh.” He closed his eyes for a moment, spitting a throatful of saliva to the side. Gradually, the sensation of nausea waned, and when Jamie opened his eyes again, Boo had stopped chewing on tiny, bright-red strawberries and instead had both paws propped up on his knees.

“Hey, Boo.” Jamie laughed weakly, then reached out and picked up the enormous fifteen-pound rabbit. “Oh my god, what else have you been eating? How can you be this big?” Boo didn’t deign to reply, just twitching his nose before mouthing at the end of Jamie’s sleeve. “No, this isn’t for you. We’ve got to go.” He pressed to his feet and leaned against the fence until he was sure he could make it inside, then headed for the back door.

“It’s our first day back,” he murmured, bending his head to press a smooch to the space between Boo’s ears as he locked the back door, grabbed his messenger bag, then headed out to the front as fast as he could manage. He locked up, then turned to his bike. It was new, an electric version of his old racer, the sort of thing he could pedal without exhausting himself.

Jamie hated that his first thought when seeing it had been I want to burn this fucking thing.

Now, three months into dealing with his new reality, Jamie was a little more sanguine about his circumstances. The e-bike was a tool to get him where he needed to go, and he was grateful for it. Not that he’d ever tell Makena just how grateful.

He put his messenger bag into the right saddlebag, then put Boo into the special carrying cage Don had designed for the other saddlebag. Jamie put on his helmet and mounted the bike. He flipped up the kickstand, thumbed on the throttle, and with a quiet murmur of, “Here we go,” he headed off to work.

The day care was hopping by the time Jamie got there, right in the middle of the eight thirty rush. Ugh, timing. He was barely able to lock his bike up before a horde of preschoolers descended upon him, all of them shrieking with joy.

“Boo!”

“Boo Bunny is back!”

“Mommy, it’s Boo! Boo is back!”

“Yay, Boo is here!”

“Hi, Mr. Jamie,” one of the more mature four-year-olds added as he also sidled in closer to greet Boo.

“Hi, Thor.” Thor. What a name for a kid whose head barely came past Jamie’s waist. Oh, well—maybe he’d grow into it. “Hi, everybody!” he greeted the rest of them, quickly pulling his bag over his shoulder before grabbing Boo’s carrying cage. “It’s so nice to see you all again!”

“You too!” a little girl—Hollyhock, Jamie remembered, one of the more interesting flower names in the bunch—said with a beaming smile. She had curly reddish-blonde hair and a gap between her front teeth. “I missed you and Boo, Mr. Jamie.”

“We missed you too, Holly.” He let her in for a hug, then gave her and the other kids another minute to squeal about Boo before he broke free of the diminutive crowd and made his way to the side entrance. Just a few more feet, and he’d be able to dart in through the kitchen and—

“Mr. Fletcher.”

Jamie groaned inside as he turned to face the head of the Parent Council, Beth Mohar. She was a scientist working at the nearby research lab with twins in the Toddlers class, and she was also a die-hard conservative who was constantly trying to add new restrictions to Sunny Day Preschool’s official code of conduct. Most recently, she’d tried to ban teachers from wearing Crocs, saying that they were unprofessional. Luckily, after the school’s director gave her a hands-on demonstration of the difference between getting vomit out of Crocs versus a pair of sneakers, she’d changed her tune.

“I see you’re back.”

“Yes,” Jamie said after a moment of waiting for her to follow up on that. “I am.”

“Are you sure that’s wise? Considering everything you’ve”—she pursed her lips— “been through lately?”

“My doctor cleared me to come back to work,” Jamie said firmly. “And I’m very happy to be here again.”

“And I’m delighted for you, I’m sure, but.” She sighed and crossed her arms. “I don’t think green is your color, shall we say. Perhaps a brown wig would be better. Less likely to confuse the children.”

Jamie reached up and touched one of his long green locks, fighting off a bout of self-consciousness. “Well,” he said, as determinedly cheerful as he could be, “there’s nothing in the dress code about the shades of hair we’re allowed to have, and given everything I’ve been through lately, I thought it would be nice to carry my favorite color with me when I come to work.” He smiled brightly. “Of course, if you’d like to make an official complaint about it, you’re welcome to, but I don’t think me having green hair confused any of the children in any way back there.”

“It’s the principle of the thing,” Mrs. Mohar said snippily. “Green hair is practically a political statement these days after what happened to Flourish.”

“I sincerely doubt the four-year-olds in my class know much about politics, or care for that matter,” Jamie replied. “I’ve got to go in now. Have a nice day, Mrs. Mohar.” Jamie let himself in with his badge, then shut the door right in his nemesis’s frowning face.

“Beth getcha?” Obed asked from where he was pulling a tray of pumpkin bread out of the oven.

“I barely escaped with my hair intact,” Jamie said, grinning. “It’s good to see you again.”

“You too.” They shook hands warmly, then Obed pointed at a tray piled up with precut, precooled squares of pumpkin bread. “These are ready for your class if you want to take them with you.”

“Sure, I can do that.” Jamie set Boo’s cage down, shifted his messenger bag around to his back, picked up the tray, then grabbed up Boo again. His right arm was starting to ache from holding her up, but he was almost to his classroom. “Thanks, Obed.”

“Glad you’re back, Jamie!” Obed called out after him as he headed down the hall.

One minute and a few near stumbles later, Jamie was back in his familiar Pre-K classroom for the first time in a quarter of a year.

All of the kids were outside on the playground, so Jamie took a second to sit down in the empty classroom and just breathe for a moment as he rested and took in the changes. When he’d left, spring had barely begun—now summer was in full swing, and the decorations had changed with the times. Gone were the cutouts of flowers and plants he’d helped the kids build, gone were the paper-mache trees and the pipe-cleaner butterflies and bees they’d created together.

Now the whole room had been done up like a construction site, with finger-painted digging machines and earth movers, and every table had baskets full of different shapes for the kids to play with. Jamie sighed, then shrugged it off. The only thing that never changes is that changes never stop. At least he’d get to be part of it all again from here on out.

Boo started scratching on the door of his carrying cage. “Right, right,” Jamie said. He hung up his messenger bag, got out Boo’s leash, clipped it on, then grabbed the tray of treats and headed toward the playground.

To his surprise, Jamie wasn’t greeted by a group of screaming, running children, climbing and horsing around. Instead, he came out to see the kids in two neat lines right in front of the picnic tables, with his co-teacher, Pippa, and the school’s director, Laurel, standing beside them. Each kid held a tissue-paper flower, obviously made by them sometime earlier, and as soon as they saw him, they all began to sing.

“Good morning, good morning, good morniiiiing, our friend!

Good morning, our friend.

Good morning, our friend.

Good morning, good morning, good morniiiiing, our friend!

Good morning, our dear frieeeeeeend.”

“Good morning, Mr. Jamie, and welcome back!” Pippa called out, and the kids finally broke ranks and ran over—carefully, because it might have been months, but they remembered how to be careful around Boo—to give him hugs and the flowers they’d made for him.

“I’ll take those,” Laurel said, relieving him of the tray so he could use both arms to hug the kids back. Jamie felt himself tear up as little hands patted his shoulders and high-pitched voices competed to ask if he was all better now.

“I’m much better,” he promised, finally leading the pack of kids over to the picnic tables. Laurel had already distributed the pumpkin squares, so it wasn’t hard to get everyone sitting down and munching on a snack. “And I’m so happy to be back, because Boo and I missed you so much!” he went on, lifting one of Boo’s paws up in a wave. The kids giggled. “Thank you for the beautiful cards you made me, and for these lovely flowers!” He gathered them into a bouquet and clasped them to his chest. “I’ll treasure them.”

He would too. He had the perfect vase for them, and they would look awesome on the side table in his living room.

Chris, the little boy on his right, leaned his head against Jamie’s arm. “It’s okay to cry, but please don’t cry too much,” he told Jamie. “We can do deep breaths together.”

Jamie burst out laughing as we wiped his eyes with the end of his sleeve. “That’s a great idea, buddy. Let’s all do some deep breaths together during snack time.” He picked up a piece of pumpkin bread. “After we’re done eating, though, right?”

“Right!”

Right. Jamie bit down, and the warm chewiness of the bread burst across his tongue in a way that made him wish he still had taste buds. At least he could smell the bread, smell the richness and the faint spice of it, and feel the heft of it in his hand. This had been his favorite class treat when he’d worked here before. It hurt, that he wasn’t able to taste it now, but its charms weren’t completely lost on him either.

Like so many things in his life these days, the little he could glean from it now would have to be enough.

Chapter Two

 

Jamie’s first day back ended up mostly consisting of sitting in the petting corner and reintroducing the kids to Boo, one by one, and he found he was fine with that. He was getting stronger every day, able to go about his daily activities for longer periods of time before needing a break, but it was still hard. And the kids, as much as he loved them and as happy as he was to be back, were a lot to handle.

He could sit, though, and he could remind them how to pet Boo, what his favorite treats were, and when they were allowed to give him one, and show them Boo’s new trick: fetch. Jamie had spent far too many hours teaching his rabbit to run after the bright-yellow ball and scootch it back to him not to share it now, and it was an instant hit.

It wasn’t until nap time that he finally got a chance to go outside and chat with his co-teacher for a moment. Their class of kids was the oldest at Sunny Day Preschool, and not all of them napped anymore, but the ones who preferred to play knew to do it quietly. Laurel came back in to watch over the kids so Jamie and Pippa could spend part of their break together.

“You’re looking really lovely, Jamie, really healthy,” Pippa told him earnestly, her small hands clasped in the edge of her flannel shirt. Pippa was English, originally from Dorset, and she’d come over to the States to seek fame on Broadway. She was so small that she’d kept getting cast as a child, though, and after a decade of that, she married another actor, quit the professional circuit, and moved from New York to Oregon to open up a small community theater.

Their theater had been wiped out two years ago in a fight between Thunderbolt and Oshun. The insurance money hadn’t been enough for a complete rebuild, so now they had a partially outdoor theater that put on performances in spring and summer only, and Pippa covered the extra expenses with this job.

The two of them worked well together despite being different generations, nationalities, and genders. Jamie was grateful she made coming back here even better for him. “Thanks, Pip. You too.”

“Oh, pish.” She waved a hand. “I’m not the one recovering from cancer! They’ve still got you doing the chemo, I take it?” Pippa curled a finger around one of her own gray-brown locks and tugged.

“Yeah,” Jamie said. “Hopefully, only for a few more months, though.”

“Oh, what a relief. The children have been absolutely wild about getting you back, you know.” She smiled at him. “And Boo, of course.”

“Mostly Boo, I know,” Jamie joked. “Don’t worry, I can take coming in second-best to Boo.”

“Well, you know how children tend to latch on to—oh, my.” Pippa abruptly stood up from where she was sitting at the picnic table. “Oh. Oh, dear.”

“What is it?” Jamie asked, standing up with her. He looked where she was shakily pointing, and— “Shit.”

“Language, dear,” Pippa said, but her voice was wavering with fear. “Oh, no. Not him.”

Not him. Jamie stared at the figure in the distance, hundreds of feet in the air, trailing a steady stream of black dust.

Blight. He was the most powerful supervillain in the northern half of the West Coast, a man who’d seemingly made it his mission to terrorize every town between here and Portland into submission.

Of course, being a big, bad supervillain meant going up against the most powerful superheroes that the US had to offer, outside of the ones who wouldn’t leave the chaos of Panopolis. In this case—

“I can see Oshun’s waterspout coming,” Jamie said in relief. “They must be near the river.”

“Oh, thank god,” Pippa said, one hand pressed to her chest. “Still, I’ve got to go tell Laurel there’s a sighting so we can start getting our precautions in place. Will you stay out here and relay information, dear?”

“Of course,” Jamie said, grateful that she didn’t seem to notice how badly his own hands were shaking. “I’ve got it, go ahead.” She went, and then it was just him, alone on the playground, staring at the cloud of black dust and the pillar of water preparing to clash in the distance. He stared, heart beating so hard he could hear it, and thought about—

“Flourish!” Blight’s voice boomed across the lot that separated them. “There’s nowhere for you to run this time!”

“I wouldn’t run anyhow!” Blight was a serious opponent, but Flourish was confident he could handle him. It would be harder with nothing but blacktop between them, but he had to protect the people evacuating from the office behind him until backup arrived.

“Yet you do.” Blight somehow had a way of projecting like he was speaking straight inside your head. “No matter how often I call for you to face me, you never come. But now,”—the mouth of his skull-like head twisted with satisfaction— “now I finally have you all to myself.”

For the first time, Flourish began to feel uneasy. “What do you want with me?”

“Want?” Blight floated a bit closer, and the blacktop cracked and crumbled in his wake. “Want? I want …” He held out a hand, and a jet of black dust streamed right for Flourish. “I want to make you suffer!”

Jamie swallowed through a tight throat, feeling light-headed. Suffer … oh, how he had. How he still was.

He didn’t know what he’d done to be chosen as Blight’s nemesis, but the supervillain had consistently come after him ever since he came here a year ago. They’d tussled all over the place, but Jamie—as Flourish, whose powers of growth were legendary—had been able to meet his destructive power head-on and come out still standing.

Not last time, though.

Not even close.

He hugged his middle with both hands and watched as Blight and Oshun clashed in the skies. After Flourish, Oshun was the best superhero to face Blight—water was one of the few things his ability couldn’t really affect. Decomposing water was just vapor, after all, and Oshun was really good at keeping a shield around her when facing him. He, in turn, was good at dodging her water strikes and evaporating the tendrils that came close to dousing him.

Where are the others? Supremo and Speedman ought to know better than to leave Oshun to tackle a supervillain on her own. It was a pact they’d made after Jamie was taken out—no one went up against a major power on their own. Maybe he just couldn’t see them because they couldn’t fly …

The thick black cloud of dust and sunlit stream of water warred in the sky, horrifyingly beautiful, obscuring the people hovering within them. Jamie hugged his waist tighter, not able to move, barely able to breathe. If Blight got Oshun … if he was able to break through her defenses and hurt her, Jamie didn’t know what he’d do.

A low rumble on the edge of Jamie’s hearing that had previously been ignorable was suddenly palpable, something he felt rattle from his feet all the way up through his head. As he watched, an enormous wave rose up out of the Onyx River below them and smashed straight into Blight. It subsumed the darkness, completely submerged it, and when the water dissipated a moment later—

Blight was nowhere to be seen.

“Jamie!” Pippa called out from the door, hanging onto the frame with one white-knuckled hand. “What’s happening? Are they coming this way?”

“No,” he said, too softly. He cleared his throat. “No, they’re—I think it’s over. Oshun knocked Blight out of the sky.”

“What? Really?” She tentatively walked out onto the playground and looked at the empty sky. “Oh, thank the stars! I was so worried we’d lose another hero after what happened to poor Flourish.”

“Me, too,” Jamie said numbly.

“I know that hit you hard,” Pippa said, her voice sympathetic even as she beamed with relief. “But the hair is a lovely tribute to him, you know. A kind way to remember him, in case …”

Jamie heard very well what she wasn’t saying. In case he never comes back. No one knew if the superhero known as Flourish was even alive, apart from Jamie and a few other select people in the community, and the thought of a comeback right now might as well be as far away as Neverland for all of Jamie’s chances of reaching it any time soon.

“I really do think it’s over,” Jamie said. “But I’ll stay out here for another few minutes just to make sure, okay?”

“All right, luv.” She headed back inside, and as soon as she was out of sight, Jamie pulled out his phone. Texting was a no-no at work unless he was on break, but technically he still was on break right now, and he simply had to know what was going on.

Are you okay? he texted Makena. He waited … waited … shit, she probably didn’t even have her phone on her right now, of course she was in costume, of course she was—

I’m fine.

Oh, thank god. Jamie let out a huge sigh of relief, all of a sudden exhausted as the tension he hadn’t realized he’d been carrying flowed out of him like water. He took a moment to just breathe, then texted back, What happened to Blight?

A few seconds later, he got the disconcerting reply, Not sure. Haven’t found him yet.

Crap. Had he run? Was he hiding in some of the forest around that subdivision? That meant the police would have to go in with dogs, and that would be terribly dangerous for them, and Makena would have to go with them, and she’d probably be up all night—

I think he hit the water.

Hit … the water? Did that mean he …

Do you think he drowned? Jamie held his breath as he waited for her to answer.

Not sure. Text you when I know more.

That was a clear sign-off for now, which—it had been kind of her to bother answering at all when she was in the middle of a search mission. Thank you, he wrote back, then replaced his phone in his pocket and walked, slowly, toward the classroom.

Blight was down. Blight had lost against Oshun, and he might have fallen into the water. He might be dead right now, drowned, sunk to the bottom of the river from the weight of whatever armor he wore. Or he might be prowling around wherever he could find cover, wounded and snarling and—

Jamie stopped and shut his eyes, remembering the last time he’d seen Blight. The only parts of his face that had been visible were his mouth and his eyes, and his mouth had been spitting insults, but his eyes, light blue or gray, Jamie hadn’t been able to tell the color, but the emotion within them …

They’d been anguished.

Sadness gripped him so hard he almost tripped over his own faltering feet. Get over yourself, you’re at work, he thought sternly. There was no time right now for any kind of sad or painful reminiscence. He had kids to take care of.

Jamie squared his shoulders and walked back into the classroom, a smile firmly on his face. Nobody here needed to know anything other than the fact that Oshun had won the day, and they were all safe.

Safe. Thank god, they were all safe.