Page 83 of All Superheroes Need PR
“Easy, Three. We’re on the same team. Sixty-Two, we saw your map formed on your skin in the news coverage of yourheroicson that mountain,” Thirty-Eight says. “Don’t worry. We know you hadn’t recovered your memories or you wouldn’t have engaged the humans like that. The point is that we solved your map, and it brought us here. The Old Sundale Airport. We believe your weapon might be in one of these planes, but we couldn’t identify it. We were hoping you could.”
I nod slowly, turning toward Thirty-Eight. “I can, but it won’t be easy.”
Three balks. Ironic, because I’m not lying. It’s a thin blade, sharp but utterly unremarkable until it’s in my hand. “It was attached to the back of my pod.”
She nods. “We know. We have your pod. We have most of the pods already, but yours was sadly without weapon.” Suggesting that some werewithweapon.
“How?”
“Three.” She points at the Tratharine I’m going to murder first. “They have extensive experience stealing from the COE.” She gestures then to Sixty-Nine, and the young male lifts a hand toward a large metal supply cabinet. Sand billows from his palms, and the doors to the cabinet fall open. Mr. Singkham and Dr. Larsen tumble out onto the floor.
I glare, the pattering of my heart stopping, then resuming. Don’t give a shit about Mr. Singkham, but Dr. Larsen? Emily? She’s my friend. The Elders were fucking fools to think that taking away our memories would help ingratiate us within the society we were meant to kill without repercussions. Because now, I care.
My pulse picks back up when I see Emily roll onto her back, groaning loudly. Twenty approaches her, and she moans in pain. I hiss, trying to keep my rage under wraps, and speak loudly, hoping to pull their collective attention back to me. “Hm,” I say, voicebreaking slightly. I growl to try to mask it. “But you didn’t bring my key with you?”
“Why would we have?” Three blurts.
“She has fulfilled her purpose,” Twenty adds, voice low but filled with question, and I grin. They haven’t realized that the key unlocks both the reversion and the weapon. And since it’s clear our keys on this planet aren’t wholly intangible, I imagine Nessa could help unlock my weapon—or even find it herself. Not that I plan to voice any of that to them.
I shake my head. “Let’s search.”
“He’s right,” Thirty-Eight adds. “Let’s work on finding the weapon first, before we take it back to the others.”
“The others?”
“The Marduk.” Thirty-Eight grins. “You might remember him as number Four. He’s among those of us who fell with most of his memories from Tratharine—a mistake, but one we now are grateful for. Clever male, he’s been leading us. It was his idea to distract the world with this whole idea ofvillainsand heroes. He created the first of them, the Meinad, shortly after watching so many of thesesuperheromovies.” She makes air quotes around the word, and the other three around her snicker. Even Three.
“The humans were so eager to jump on the idea of these cute, fantastical little kids. They formed two corporations within the decade that have so much control. The villains shield those of us Tratharine doing actual Tratharine work with little villainous theatrics to distract and appease the world. The heroes who formed to counter them are just a bunch of bumbling morons.”
They all laugh openly at that, Thirty-Eight so hard she’s wiping tears from her eyes as she speaks next. “They’ll realize how dumb they were when it’s all settled. Once we Tratharine haveallreturned to our true forms and positioned ourselves in our rightful places in this world with these pathetic humans enslaved beneath us. You’ll lead us there.And when we finally amass all our weapons and open the gate, you’ll greet the Elders first.”
Lovely. I swallow hard and force myself to nod and say, “Good. My weapon first. You’re sure it’s here?”
“This is where the map led.”
“You don’t feel it?” Twenty says.
“No.” And I need it. I’m going to need a weapon to get out of this. Because if I escape and leave these beings alive, they’ll keep coming and put Nessa at risk. So I’m going to have to find my weapon—any fucking weapon—and kill all of them with it.
“Whatdoyou feel, Sixty-Two?” Three hisses, taking a slow turn around me while the others at least have the decency to pretend to look around the hangar. “A solidarity with Tratharine and its people? With the Elders who trained us to be the most feared and savage warriors in the universe? Or do you think now ofher? The little human with the soft skin and the soft heart.”
“He’s not thinking of a human,” Thirty-Eight insists. “Stop trying to provoke him.”
“He’snotthinking of a human? Don’t be blind, Thirty-Eight. He’s not with us.” Three seethes. “He’s compromised.”
“A key can’t compromise one of us,” Thirty-Eight says. “The keys are but tools to be used and discarded; you remember that part of our training, don’t you? The Elders wouldn’t have sent us somewhere where a key could derail their entire plan.”
I shout, “Don’t speak about me like I’m not even here. I want to find my weapon ...”
“You want to get back to her!” Three roars.
“Maybe the Elders did not know,” Twenty says, soft voice cutting through the rising tension. “Maybe this planet has its own defenses ...” His bleak, soulless gaze searches mine, and I know that I’ve lost.
A short silence reigns. I can feel the four turning their attention toward me in a way that spells doom. I need to say something to get me out of this. Even Thirty-Eight’s gifts are pushing at me. I can feela softening of the air, but I fearlessly make direct eye contact. I am still stronger. Their powers may work on me, but we are Tratharine. Everything about our world is based on the strong overtaking the weak. Their powers will not work on me fully. Not yet.
“Are you with us, Sixty-Two?” Thirty-Eight asks me.
I don’t even try to lie. I just say nothing and prepare for battle ...
