Guitar Hero (Cape High Series Book 12) (7 page)

Have I mentioned that in some ways, I think Negatia is the most terrifying of the Hall leaders? That might have had something to do with me running away… I'm just saying.

"We do have one little issue, one that should actually involve all of the super community," she goes on, looking at one of the floating drones. "Senator Herold has just announced his desire to run for presidency. His biggest campaign is a drive to keep supers in their place—which is NOT in norm schools," she says. "According to your schedule, you're lined up to speak in some of our local schools, is that correct, Divine Justice?"

"Yes, ma'am," Emily says.

"I am not a 'ma'am', Divine Justice. You may address me as Negatia."

"Yes, Negatia," Emily says, not even blinking.

"I'll write it off as your Southern background coming through. I'm sure Century will be crowing over it at our next meeting. But what I mean to say is you should watch your back, especially when you do speak in the schools." She slides the paperwork across the table and Falconess sorts through the sheets, holding one out to each of the others. I don't get one.

"Um, where's mine?" I ask, not happy about bringing attention to myself.

"This is your Hall," Negatia says, looking at me. "Do you really think I would keep you from coming back any time you want?" There's a vulnerable look in her eyes that I'm positive I wouldn't have caught before. This year of living with emotionally damaged kids has made me more aware of things, I realize abruptly. "Can we speak privately before you leave?" she asks me quietly. I nod, knowing I don't want to, but also knowing that this entire mission could easily hinge on my actions right now. I glance around, watching the others sign their contracts. I feel a little adrift.

"So, other than the presidency run and campaigning, do we need to look out for anything else?" Falconess asks as she hands back her contract.

"There's a good chance of running into pockets of protesters," Negatia says, crossing her legs and leaning back in her chair. "I don't know if you've talked with the other Hall leaders recently, but Marigold reported someone defaced the statue in front of her Hall yesterday."

"And they didn't catch them?"

"It happened in the middle of the night. She believes it might have been kids, but I find the timing too suspicious. The norms are starting to get riled up."

"Do you and Century not get along?" Emily asks abruptly. She turns a bit red as Negatia just looks at her drolly.

"I admire his abilities very much," Negatia says.

"Nicely fielded," Falconess says with a little smile. Negatia lets a matching smile cross her lips.

"Divine Justice—"

"You can call me DJ," Emily offers.

"DJ, then, you'll find that when there are five supers in positions of power, there will always be… politics involved. It isn't that we truly dislike one another, but there is a sense of competition involved. We each want to openly claim that our branch is the best. Mine is," she says with a wicked twinkle in her eyes, "and the fact that they can't acknowledge that fact means we'll never see eye to eye."

Falconess is the first to laugh, while everyone else is left wondering what to say in reply. "Don't worry, kids, as soon as they start putting together other schools like Cape High, you'll understand exactly where she's coming from," she says to us. "Now, is there anything else you need from us?" she asks Negatia.

"Just a few moments with my son," Negatia says, looking at me. I hear them head out, but don't turn to watch. Instead I look around the room, taking in the abstract paintings and the one cover of Heroes Monthly that she has hanging on the wall. I stare at it for a moment before walking over. "He was so proud of that," she says, alerting me to the fact she's right behind me.

The picture of Dad in full uniform has me fighting the urge to cry. He looks so proud of himself, a broad grin crossing his face, his classic pose just a bit too cocky. "You look a lot like him," she says, placing a hand on my shoulder. "He would be proud of you, you know."

"No he wouldn't," I say bluntly. "I ran off." I feel like a guilty kid. I've always known I would have to deal with this, but I shoved it to the back of my mind every time.

"Why did you run away?" she asks.

"Because…" why? I take a deep breath, wishing I could just quit this entire conversation. I don't want to say it—but she's just standing there, her hand on my shoulder. "Because of THIS," I say finally, waving at the magazine cover. "Because of him." I pull away from her touch, turning to face her. "I can never be the man my dad was. I know it, you know it, EVERYONE knows it. And as long as I was in the West Branch, I was ALWAYS going to be in his shadow. No matter what I became—or become, even—I'll never surpass him, because he DIED for what he believed. And call me a coward, but all I saw in my future was a 'glorious death!' I have no desire to throw away my life for anyone!"

There's an understanding expression on her face, which is the last thing I expected. "I lost him, too," she says softly, pulling me into a hug.

"I don't want to be a hero," I say. "I don't want to wear this stupid uniform, much less one like Dad's. I just—I just want to be a musician. It's stupid and selfish and I know I'm supposed to be something bigger, but nobody ASKED me. I was just born this way!"

"Then why did you agree to this mission?" she asks as she pulls away to look me in the eyes.

"Because—because of them," I say, waving at the door. My shoulders slump and I reach up to run a hand through my hair. "I feel like a real jerk because I hear them at night when they start crying, or lose control of their abilities, or when they start thrashing around. But there's nothing I can do. I can't go back in time and make it so the Collector never captured them, I can't reach into their brains and take the memories out, either. I wish I could. Malina—she was one of the worst," I go on, shocked at how it's just pouring out of my mouth. "When she cries, the sinks start running, the showers start running—she doesn't even realize what she's doing. We've had a few floors flood because of her. Freddy disappears. I can't even hear him leave, because he's so quiet, but all of a sudden he's nowhere to be found in the middle of the night. Heck, Vinny burnt down his bedroom when he had a nightmare. He's supposed to be one of the most stable in the group! They're all a—a complete MESS and if we can even find ONE kid before something like that happens to them it'll be… it'll be worth it."

"Is there anyone helping them?" she asks, going back to the zoo kids.

"Yeah," I say, letting out a sigh and forcing myself to relax. "America's Son comes every weekend and helps them work through it. It's helping a lot, actually, which is why most of them are even out on this mission. One, though… Sandra still can't even force herself to come out of her room, much less off campus."

"So you have all the children that were in the Collector's collection?" she asks.

"As far as I know, yeah," I say. "They consider each other family. I live in the dorm with them." They don't consider me family, but it's gotten better recently. I think it's because of Ace, as much as I hate to admit it.

"I can rent you a place nearby, if it would be easier," she offers. "Or, if it comes to it, I can speed up the move to create our own school, here."

"What?" I say blankly. "No, it's… it's a lot better than it was at first."

"I see," she says, watching me closely for a moment before pulling me into another hug. "You've grown up so much since I last saw you," she tells me. "I'm proud of you."

Why? My mouth opens as I try to ask, but I can't seem to say it. I'd just told her I was a selfish jerk that didn't want to risk his life for anyone, right? I'm pretty sure that's what came out of my mouth. So why is she proud of me? "I don't know why," I finally mutter. "I'm still a selfish jerk when it comes down to it—I've just gotten better at hiding it."

She laughs. "Here's a secret, Justin, deep down a lot of people feel that way."

I stare at her, and she gives me a little smile before leaning up and kissing my cheek. "Go back to your mission—go save the kids that can't save themselves. I'll have my Hall keep an eye out for problems."

I hesitate for a moment before nodding. I'm supposed to feel better about myself after this talk, right? Well, it's not working. Just saying everything out loud like I did brings my life back into crystal clear focus.

I'm not a hero, and I never will be. Everything I do right now is because I feel guilty.

The older man walks up the steps of the platform, straightening his tie in a slightly nervous manner. He lets out a little chuckle, breaking the silence that covers the area. Kansas City, right in front of the City Hall—not even a block away from Central Hall. "I have to say," he says as he leans forward to the mic, "I've heard that Kansas City is called the City of Fountains, now I really believe it." As a joke it falls flat, but the audience smiles slightly. "It's a shame I can't spend more time looking around—I'll definitely have to come back."

This gets a few cheers, which go quiet as he continues speaking. "Thank you all for joining me today. I am Senator Marvin Herold, and I want to be your next president." There are a few cheers, but it seems mild compared to the other places he's been. He scans the audience with a discerning eye, stopping on a few of the silent ones. "If you vote for me for president, I promise that you will be safe in your own homes. Your children can be safe in their schools. When I'm president, your freedom and safety will be my biggest concerns. America isn't politics, it isn't profit—it's you, the people. You are, and always will be, my first priority. That is why the first thing I do in office is make sure the Halls know their place."

The audience just stares at him, for the most part.

"You, of all people, should know where I'm coming from," he goes on, wondering where the support is. Usually the only people that come to these things are the ones that have already decided to support him. Instead, he thinks as he looks over the group, there seems to be a majority of non-supporters. "Almost daily you have supers destroying your buildings, your roads, and your personal property! This isn't right, people, this is—"

"They fix it," a kid in the front row yells. "Right after it gets broken, right, Mom?"

"Yeah, thanks to that Liberty boys fight the other day, I got a new heating and cooling system," a man says, making the others look at him. "It's a wonder, too—I brought in a professional and he was stunned. It hardly uses any energy at all!"

"It's because they brought in Technico, right?" an older lady says. "We're the first city to go green without paying a dime thanks to him! They redid my car last month! Now it's electric—and not one of those cheap ones, either, I could go over a hundred miles an hour if I wanted! And they even asked what color I wanted it!"

"But they destroyed your car," Herold says.

"Well it was on its last legs, anyway," she says with a shrug. "That brand new mustang right next to it didn't even get a scratch, did you know that?"

"We like our super heroes!" someone yells.

"They're invading your schools! Don't you worry about your children getting hurt by some random flying object?"

"Well… that IS a bit of a problem," a man admits near the back. "They sure do like to throw that mic around a lot, you know? I bet a kid could get quite a shiner if they got hit by that."

"And there's always the worry that Cold Steel might blind someone," a woman agrees. "He really should start wearing a hat—at least on the sunny days!"

"That's definitely a good point," the man agrees. "And what about people driving below? They could be blinded!"

"Cold Steel needs a hat!" someone yells in agreement from the crowd.

"Cold Steel needs a hat!" another repeats. It's going to turn into a chant if he's not careful.

"What are you going to do about JOBS?" one of the more politically minded asks. "Jobs are way more important than super damage, you know!"

"What about taxes?"

"Cold Steel needs a hat!"

Time to take back control, Herold thinks with an inward sigh. He should have never let them take even this small amount of time from him. "My fellow Americans, we have the right to keep our citizens safe—and the threat is more serious than you think. You have extremely dangerous creatures living just down the street from here! What happens if they decide they don't want to play by the rules anymore? What happens when they come after your children?"

"They ain't dangerous," a man says. "They're just show-boats."

"Especially Mega," someone agrees.

"Hey! I just happen to be Mega's biggest fan!"

"MEGA is Mega's biggest fan."

"Okay, his SECOND biggest fan. And they've got their own kids, right? Why would they want ours?"

"These people—these supers are not a joke!" Herold declares, talking over the crowd. "You have some of the most dangerous ones right here, in KC! Cold Steel is a vicious criminal! He's also a living wrecking ball! And how about Maximum? Or Panther! Your city is in danger from super villains on a regular—DAILY basis! And how can we claim the super heroes that fight them are any better? They are just as quick to use violence to resolve—"

The crowd shifts, the posters with his name going down. He abruptly realizes that he might have crossed the line. He hears a gentle thump behind him and sees the crowd's eyes widen. Slowly he turns and looks at Mastermental.

"Hello, Senator Herold, I hope I'm not interrupting," the Central Hall Leader says with a slight smile and an offered hand. "It's good to meet one of our hard-working politicians." The guards start forward, but they don't look very enthusiastic about their jobs at all. Herold waves them off with an inward sigh.

"Mastermental, what a pleasure to meet you," he says, lying through a brilliant smile. He had known something along these lines might happen. Coming to Kansas City was the same as blatantly calling him out.

"The pleasure is all mine," Mastermental says. "This little meeting of yours has been quite an eye-opener for me, I was actually a bit loath to interfere." Obviously a lie, Herold thinks as they match smile for smile. The more open and engaging the smile is, the more likely the other person is plotting your down-fall. It's one of the first lessons he'd learned in life, and it is one he's carried all these years. "I will see about talking to the Liberty family," Mastermental says to the audience, "I'm sure we can convince Cold Steel that a hat might help."

They laugh, clearly comfortable with one of the most dangerous heroes around chatting with them. Herold wonders how often it happens—do they actually hear from Mastermental more often than they do their local politicians? Don't they realize he could be reading their minds right this instant? Mastermental looks at him, a strange expression on his face which disappears as quickly as it appears.

"Now, you might think I've come to argue with Senator Herold's beliefs, but you couldn't be more wrong," Mastermental says as he steps up to the mic, "I fully agree that your children and ours should be protected. They are our future."

"Even your Hall leader agrees with my campaign," Herold says, stepping forward to try and take control of the situation.

"Yes, and no," Mastermental says. "You see, I find no harm in allowing your children and our children to meet. I believe that it's beneficial all around—your children will get to see their future protectors, and our children will understand just how important the people they'll be protecting are. There is a relationship between supers and citizens, a common bond. We here in Kansas City understand that better than most, don't you agree?" he asks the crowd, earning several nods. "It's good to hear that the new clean-up system is working so well for you, by the way. In all actuality, I never told Technico to upgrade anything, I just don't see any reason to stop him from it."

"He's an ex-super villain! How can you trust the lives and property of these people to an ex-super villain?" Herold asks. "It's this shady type of thinking that has gotten us into this problematic situation in the first place!"

"Senator Herold, I not only trust him with these people and their property, I trust him with the life and education of my own son. I firmly believe in giving people second chances."

"Have you never heard the saying 'Fool me once, shame on me? Fool me twice, shame on you?’ This is a villain that was sentenced by your own courts to fifteen years in super prison," Herold says. "I've done my research—Technico had the most powerful restrictions in the entire Cape Cells, did he not?"

"It's true, he did," Mastermental says agreeably. "And yet, I truly believe he could have broken out if he really wanted to."

The open reply throws Herold off slightly, but not nearly as much as the roar of approval from the crowd. He looks at them, motioning for silence. They take their sweet time calming down, he thinks with a slight tick developing in his jaw. "This is not a cheering matter, ladies and gentlemen. Mastermental is allowing a very dangerous super to train up the next generation—as well as work on your buildings and cars! He is the reason the capes are going into the schools—a place where your children should be safe!"

"But he's gone good," a woman yells.

"By his own words, he claims to be 'neutral' at best," Herold says.

"So far, all I've seen him do is good," she replies. "Like that lady's car, and that man's heating and cooling! That's far more than Mega's done, if you ask me, and he's ALWAYS been a hero! It's more than you've done, too, I bet."

He decides it's best to ignore that comment. "Ask yourselves, do you really trust an ex-super villain with your life? With the lives of your children? Perhaps Mastermental does, but how can we even know for sure that he has a son? I've never heard of him having a family."

"I do," Mastermental says. "But I'm afraid his identity is secret. It's a super thing. But you have a point," he says, looking at Herold, "they should ask themselves who they trust with their lives. Especially, I would think, who their president should be. He—or she—should be someone that stands up for the people—ALL of the people."

"That is exactly what I'm planning on doing," Herold says.

"Including supers," Mastermental says simply. "Because while we do govern our own, we still live, work, and pay taxes right where you do."

"And that's another thing—you consider yourselves above the law!"

"False," Mastermental says. "If anything, we are under far stricter laws than you are. Look into it—you can find a copy of our law book in the building behind us, as can anyone else that wants to see it. Or, if you prefer, download it from our website."

"You're extremely persuasive, aren't you?" Herold says, a slight smile on his face as his eyes grow cold. "I expect it helps that you can read people's minds and tell them exactly what they want to hear."

The crowd goes quiet, their expressions getting thoughtful. "I do not make a habit of reading minds in crowds," Mastermental says. "You see, the average mind is complicated enough to shift through—going through an entire crowd of minds would be like wading through politics, I think. Confusing, overly-complicated, and rather messy are words that come to mind."

"But you, of all supers, have had over a hundred years of experience, isn't that true?" Herold presses. "You pride yourself on your long career."

"It seems to me that both of us have a claim along those lines," Mastermental says, his eyes sharp behind the slight smile on his lips.

Herold looks at him blandly, keeping his smile on his face. The lack of reaction doesn't even seem to phase Mastermental. "Now, if you've finished saying what you were planning on saying, I was in the middle of a rally," he says when Mastermental meets him smile for smile. "Ladies and Gentlemen I want to thank you again for coming today to show support for your fellow American. I have great plans for this country and you, my friends, are the ones that will make it all possible. Your support means more than you can imagine," he finishes. "Don't forget, vote Herold."

It isn't all he planned on saying, but if he continues he knows that Mastermental will do his very best to make him look like an idiot. Instead he walks down the steps and shakes a few hands, offering his smile to anyone that wants it. Mastermental stays there on the platform, watching with a bland little smile as he goes. He'd known it would be difficult, doing a campaign against supers a few blocks away from where the Hall building is, but at the same time—

He lifts a hand, touching the earbud discreetly hidden behind his ear. "Mother?" he says silently. "He's going to be more difficult than you assumed."

"Oh silly boy, of course he is," a woman says with amusement. "He's the one that took Superior's place, after all. From all accounts he's far more intelligent and socially savvy."

"He's shifty."

"It's a wonder he's not a politician," she agrees.

***

"Hello Princeton High!" Emily's voice echoes over a crowd of bored looking teenagers. As soon as they see her step onto the stage, though, their expressions turn to shock. Well, she is in full uniform, I think with amusement. Of course this looks like a new one--with a tight blue top with white sequined stars on it and baggy shorts hanging from red and white striped suspenders. (Of course the shorts are red, white, blue, and sparkly as well.) I watch the crowd as she steps up to the podium, seeing both the males and females look a bit awe-struck. "I don't know if you know who I am, but I can fix that with no problem. My name is Divine Justice—I'm a teenager just like you, one who just happens to be a super hero. It's a pleasure to be here, and I'd like to thank your staff for being so kind as to let us in." She nods at the adults lining the wall, waving shortly at them before turning back to the crowd. "I bet you're wondering what I'm here for, huh?" she asks teasingly.