Infiltration (2 page)

I shrugged. “I can’t completely deny that, but I have been trying.”

She reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “I know you have, babe, but I just don’t think you’re ready to be with other people yet.”

“But I really want this. I mean, I really do.”

She sighed. “Look, let’s not make it official until after the exhibition tomorrow.”

I simply nodded, eyes staring down at the table. This was exactly what I knew was going to happen.

“Geez, man,” said an unexpected voice, but one that I recognized. It was my best friend, Smokescreen. “Did somebody run over your dog or something?”

“Huh?” I asked. I was still absorbing what Electra had said, so lost in thought that I hadn’t even noticed him approaching us.

Smokey slid into the booth next to me. “You’ve got this look on your face like somebody just died. Or did the light of your life here just break up with you?” He nodded in Electra’s direction.

“I almost wish she had,” I said, which made Electra’s mouth drop open. I ignored her foot connecting with my shin under the table as I went on. “She’s kicking me out of the band.”

“What?” Smokey asked, slightly confused. “You mean off the team?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Apparently I don’t play well with others.”

“He’s a lone wolf,” Electra said defensively. “Every time we have a training exercise where we’re supposed to be acting as a team, trying to take down a supervillain, he goes off and does his own thing.”

Smokey appeared thoughtful for a second. “She’s got a point, Jim. You do tend to act like it’s the Kid Sensation Show sometimes.”

“I’m not trying to,” I said. “I’m just doing what comes naturally when it comes to taking down bad guys.”

“But when we’re working as a team, you can’t treat it like a solo act,” Electra countered. “You’ve got to know what your role is and be willing to play it.”

“I understand that,” I said, “but if I can end a confrontation without anyone else getting in harm’s way, why shouldn’t I?”

“Because if we’re operating as a team and hitting on all cylinders,” Electra answered, “
nobody
has to be in harm’s way.”

I sighed in resignation. Although I hated to admit it, she definitely had a point — several of them, in fact. I’d been trained extensively in how to use my powers by my grandfather (a former superhero) and Braintrust, a family friend who was actually a huge cluster of clones sharing a single hive mind. However, most of that training was centered on me operating solo; I hadn’t been groomed in how to function in a team environment. (And apparently that’s a necessary skill when you’re a member of a superhero team’s teen affiliate — even more so when the superhero team in question is the best in the world: the Alpha League.)

“Look,” said Smokey, ending a silence that wasn’t so much awkward as it was prolonged, “it’s not like it’s forever.” He turned to Electra. “When does your rotation as team leader end?”

“Next week,” she answered.

“Next week,” Smokey repeated, then turned to me. “So it’s like you’re being benched for one game — assuming we have another training exercise before Electra passes the torch to someone else. You’ve still got the rest of the season to showcase your moves.”

Electra’s phone rang before I had a chance to respond.

“Sorry guys,” she said, glancing at her phone screen. “I need to take this.”

She slid out of the booth, putting the phone up to her ear and giving a perfunctory “Hello” as she headed towards the exit. Smokey slid out of the seat next to me and into the opposite side of the booth.

“I told them,” I said, watching as Electra stepped outside in order to speak with some degree of privacy. “I told them not to put us on the same team. We both did. But they did it anyway.”

“What did you expect?” Smokey asked. “You two are teammates
and
you’re dating. They need to know that one aspect of your relationship isn’t going to interfere with the other.”

“So it’s better to put us in this awkward situation — not just on the same team, but with one the team leader and the other a subordinate?”

“Like I said, it’s one of the ways they’re testing you. Remember Paramount?”

I nodded, even though it was obviously a rhetorical question. Paramount had generally been regarded as the most powerful teen super on the planet and presumed to one day become the world’s greatest superhero — until, just a few months earlier, he became completely deranged, killed a bunch of people, and tried to destroy the Alpha League (including his own father). He was also my half-brother, but almost no one knew that — not even Paramount himself, as far as I knew.

“Well,” Smokey continued, “a year or so ago, before he became unhinged, Paramount started dating this flyer named Skye Blue.”

“Let me guess: the League put them on the same team.”

“Ding! Ding! Ding!” Smokey intoned, like a bell announcing that I’d won a prize. “Got it in one. Now, to advance to the next round of our tournament, can you guess what happened to them?”

“They broke up?”

“Within three days.”

“I’m guessing Paramount wasn’t very good at taking orders.” Not that that was a surprise of any sort. He was a pompous, egotistical jerk.

“Yes, a lot like some people at this table, who shall remain nameless.”

I knew Smokey was exaggerating to make a point, but the comparison with Paramount was quite the wake-up call. “Am I really that bad?” I asked sheepishly.

“Yes and no,” Smokey answered. “You know that bomb simulation we just ran?”

I nodded. We’d recently participated in a training exercise that required us to deal with a chemical bomb. One member of our team, Actinic, had the ability to render the chemicals in the bomb inert and harmless, and as team leader, Electra had ordered him to deal with the explosive. However, when it seemed like he wasn’t moving fast enough — and we were partly evaluated on the speed with which we resolved the problem — I took it upon myself to teleport the bomb to a remote location where it could detonate without harming anyone.

“That stunt you pulled is the kind of thing we’re talking about,” Smokey continued. “Electra was team leader, and she had her reasons for wanting to disarm the bomb.”

“I know that
now
,” I said despondently.

For the bomb scenario, most of the team had been briefed only on the fact that a bomb was set to go off in a populated area. As team leader, however, Electra was given additional, need-to-know info: in our exercise, this was the third such bomb discovered, and it was vitally important that the experts get to examine it in order to try to figure out who was planting these devices. Needless to say, my impertinent actions prevented us from achieving the desired result. Even though it was only a training exercise, just thinking about it made me feel awful.

“Look, man,” Smokey said, clearly aware of my dejected mood, “it’s not the end of the world, and it’s easy enough to fix. Just quit flying solo and learn to stay in formation.”

Before I could respond, Electra — apparently finished with her phone call — stepped back over to our booth.

“Guess who I found wandering around outside?” she asked. That’s when I noticed the girl standing next to her: a complete knockout with exquisite Asian features. It was Sarah, Smokey’s girlfriend, and she slid into the booth next to him while Electra sat down next to me.

Sarah was normal, with no special abilities to speak of, so with her arrival the dialogue shifted to more typical teen fare: movies, music, etc. Even though Sarah knew that we were supers and loved hearing about our exploits, talking about that stuff would have excluded her from much of the conversation. Thus, as always, we tried to avoid talking “shop” in her presence.

We ordered another batch of chips and queso, as well as some sodas, and hung out for another thirty minutes or so, at which point Smokey announced that he and Sarah had to get going. (Apparently they had a date.) Electra and I used their departure as our own impetus for leaving. I settled the tab, and then we saw them off in the parking lot.

“So,” said Electra, as we walked towards my car so I could give her a ride home, “why aren’t
we
going out tonight?”

“Are you kidding?” I asked. “After you just booted me off the team?”

I felt a slight bit of confusion coming from her; then, realizing I was joking, she reached over and took my hand.

“Actually,” I said, “I’m going to a game with Alpha Prime.”

“Oh yeah,” she said in recollection as we reached my car. “You did mention that a few days back.”

“It’s just a preseason game, but a big rivalry,” I said as I opened the passenger door for her.

“This is what — the third game in two weeks? You two sure have been spending a lot of time together. I’m starting to get jealous.”

I closed the door without responding and headed to the driver’s side of the car. There was kind of an unwritten rule between us regarding discussions of family: Her being an orphan, we never discussed her biological parents (although I knew that she actually had some information about who they were). Likewise, we never mentioned my father, who had never really been part of my life. Avoiding those topics of conversation wasn’t something we’d deliberated and decided on; we both just instinctively knew that those were sensitive areas and avoided them. (I suppose a psychiatrist would probably say that we both had abandonment issues.)

Needless to say, she didn’t know that Alpha Prime was my father, or that these outings we were engaging in were attempts to try to get to know each other. Thus, there wasn’t any reason for her to feel like she was stepping on some sort of landmine.

“Just for the record,” I said as I opened the driver’s door and climbed in, “the other two were baseball and football games. This is basketball.”

“
Still,” she said,
“
it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what’s going on between you two.”

“
Oh?” I said, raising an eyebrow as I pulled out of the lot and into the street. There was no way she actually knew the truth…was there?

“
Yes,” she said.
“
And I think it’s wonderful. Alpha Prime never talks about it, but I know he misses Paramount. Going to football games and stuff is the kind of thing they used to do together. I think AP is maybe subconsciously looking for someone else to have that same kind of father-son bond with, so it’s nice of you to step in and fill that role.”

I looked at her in surprise. She might not have known the truth, but she certainly hit a lot closer to home than I was prepared for. I found myself forming a new respect for her insights.

“
That’s nice of you to say,” I replied. “But being a replacement for Paramount isn’t very high on my to-do list.
”

“
Regardless, I’m sure AP appreciates it. But please tell him to stop hogging my date nights.”

“
It’s not like he’s holding me the entire weekend. I’ll still see you tomorrow night — we’ll be together then.”

“
That’s not a date!” she exclaimed.
“
That’s an exhibition. A date would be me and you, alone. This is a showcase in front of forty million people.”

“
Fine,” I said.
“
I’ll make you a deal: for every outing that I have with Alpha Prime, I’ll owe you two.”

She gave me a sly smile.
“
Buddy, you got yourself a deal.”

The rest of the drive consisted mostly of Electra bringing me up to speed on how things were going at her new school. As I had already noted, she was truly enjoying the so-called “normal” environment of a regular high school. A short time later, we arrived at her house.

“
Home” for Electra at this time consisted of a modest two-story brick house in a quiet suburban neighborhood. Until recently, Electra had lived her entire life at Alpha League headquarters. However, following the destruction of HQ by Paramount a few months back and the subsequent obliteration of the Academy (where Electra usually lived in-residence during the school year), a new abode had to be found for her. She had lived for a while at an Alpha League safe house, but that had only been a short-term solution. Thus, she now lived here with Esper, the League’s resident psychic (a generic term for anyone with mental powers) and the reigning queen of all telepaths on the planet.

I pulled into the driveway next to a trendy red sports car and shifted my vehicle into park.

“
Okay,” Electra said, grabbing her purse and book bag from the floor.
“
I have to go.” She leaned over to give me a quick kiss. At least that was the intention; five minutes later, we’d done an excellent job of fogging up my windows.

Suddenly a voice boomed in my head like a bullhorn.