The Nameless Hero (11 page)

“Don’t be ridiculous! What could possibly be wrong with your uniform?”

“I don’t think it’s the right size.”

This was definitely an understatement. The stretchy material was pulled so tight, I was surprised it was still in one piece. The uniform clung to my legs and arms so closely that I felt like I’d somehow squeezed my entire body into a tube sock.

And it looked even tighter than it felt. Shining black
spandex stretched across my shoulders and chest, decorated with a pattern of vivid red flames. A utility belt was clasped around my waist, matching the gloves and boots that I was wearing. Beneath the belt, I’d been outfitted in a pair of pants that looked like they’d been spray-painted on. Except for the bottom of the pants. Around the ankles, they flared out … like bell-bottoms.

I pulled at the spandex around my neck. When I let go, the elastic material snapped painfully against my skin like a rubber band. “Ow!” I cried, rubbing the sore spot on my neck. I looked down longingly at the pile of clothes I’d come in wearing.

When I finally stepped out of the dressing room, the Smicks examined me in silence while I stood there, my hands hanging awkwardly by my sides.

Helmi was the first to speak. “I think … it’s
perfect
!”

“Some of our best work.” Gertrude nodded with confidence.

“D-doesn’t it seem,” I stuttered, “kind of tight?”

“Tight? Where?”

I looked down at the form-fitting elastic that covered my body. I could see the outline of my ribs poking out through the shining black material.

“Everywhere?”

“Nonsense! That’s exactly the way it’s supposed to fit!”

“Now, enough debate. We still have one more appointment.” Helmi picked up the clipboard again, running a finger down the page. “With … Milton.”

I felt a stab of pity for Milton, who was back in our room
watching the window, with no idea of what was waiting for him. Not that I could feel
too
sorry for anyone else—not when I was dressed like
this
.

The triplets ushered me into the room next door, where sofas and chairs were arranged beneath a couple of high-definition windows. A ripple of embarrassment ran down the length of my body as I noticed I wasn’t alone. Sophie and Miranda were already there. And nFinity must’ve shown up at some point, because he was seated between them.

And all three were looking right at me.

I could feel every inch of the spandex squeezing me. And it probably didn’t help that the tights were giving me the world’s worst wedgie.

Let me just say, there’s no cool way to cross a room when you’re wearing shiny bell-bottomed tights. I took quick steps, listening to the soft squeak of my boots against the floor. Dropping onto the nearest available sofa, I grabbed a cushion and covered as much of myself as possible with it.

That was when I noticed what the others had on. Miranda was wearing a purple vest, covered with pouches and pockets. Under the vest she had on silver tights that clung just as closely as mine did. Sophie’s uniform was a bright yellow one-piece that stretched from her neck to the ends of her arms and feet. I could see from the expression on her face that she was just as embarrassed as I was.

“I look like a giant banana,” she said, scowling down at the yellow spandex. “The Smicks said it was just temporary. The uniform’s supposed to be gold, but they didn’t
have the right material. So until they get it, I’m stuck with this.”

“Don’t worry,” nFinity said. He was seated on the couch beside Sophie. “Once they put in all the armor and padding, your uniforms are going to look a lot cooler, I promise.”

Unlike earlier, nFinity was now in full superhero mode. His uniform was a slick combination of sky blue and red, with his white
n
logo printed on his chest. The elastic material stretched over the contours of his built-in body armor, making him look like an action figure that had come to life.

Of course, it didn’t hurt that he was a couple of years older than everyone else in the room. And a lot more famous.

Sophie obviously noticed all these things too. She gazed at nFinity beside her. When his eyes flickered over to her, she glanced away. Her uniform might have been yellow, but her face had just turned a bright shade of red.

A flash of aggravation mixed with all the embarrassment I was feeling. I pulled hard at the material of my uniform and felt it snap against my skin with a quiet
pop
.

A half hour later the door to the designers’ room opened and Milton walked in. I’d expected him to be as embarrassed as I’d been, but he actually looked excited.

“Check it out!” he said, showing off his red and silver spandex uniform. “The Smicks designed it to have extra compartments. Since I don’t have any powers, they said I should have more space for accessories and weapons and stuff!”

nFinity has it all—a red-hot Gyft, awesome endorsement deals, and major hover skateboarding skills—so it’s no surprise that Joshua’s friends get starstruck whenever he’s nearby
.

Milton gestured to the utility belt around his waist and the pockets that were built into his sleeves and pants.

“And you wanna know the best part?” Milton said. “The triplets are planning to have jet-propulsion engines built into the bottoms of my boots, so I’ll be able to fly and everything!”

Milton strutted in front of us in his one-piece like a model on the runway. He even did a little twirl to show off the back side (which I didn’t think was all that necessary). After twelve years of idolizing superheroes, it must’ve been a dream come true for Milton to actually dress up like one himself.

Milton went on bragging about his uniform until a panel opened in the wall at the edge of the room.

Gavin appeared in the doorway. His eyes passed across our new uniforms.

“Now that you’re finally beginning to look like superheroes, it’s time to start training like superheroes,” he said. “Come with me.”

We followed Gavin into a room he called the training hall. Like just about everywhere else, the walls, floors, and ceiling were white, with cameras perched in the corners.

“If you’re going to succeed in this business,” Gavin said, “you’re going to need to develop your skills. It’s not enough to rely on your Gyfts. Any superhero worth his tights knows that powers are only a small part of the total
package. Our training program was created to sharpen your overall skill set—strength, reflexes, acrobatics, hand-to-hand combat, weapons …”

The more Gavin spoke, the more unsure I felt. Sports had never really been my thing. During last year’s Jump Rope Jamboree, I’d been the one who’d gone to the nurse’s office with a mild concussion.

“We’ll begin our training with
this
.” Gavin pressed a button on his remote. A panel opened in the center of the floor, and a steel box rose up in its place. The box was about ten feet wide, and nearly as tall. In the front was a door that was held closed with a massive padlock.

“Inside this box is a custom-designed technology that’s been created specifically for the purpose of testing your strengths and challenging your weaknesses. It’s a technology that—”

Gavin stopped talking when a violent burst of noise filled the room. Something had just slammed against the inside of the box. Instinctively, I took a step back. Whatever was in that box sounded dangerous. And angry.

“Not to worry,” Gavin said. “The GLOM gets a little peevish in confined spaces.”

“Glom?” Sophie repeated.

Another loud clang echoed through the room. The box rocked with the impact. By now, I was hoping Gavin would change his mind and send the thing back where it’d come from. But Gavin had another idea.

“Unlock the box,” he said.

The air shimmered, and Trace appeared in the room.

“Uh … okay.” Trace’s voice quavered. Whatever was inside the box, he obviously wasn’t too thrilled about letting it out either.

Keys jangling in his hand, Trace fiddled with the padlock holding the door closed. He would’ve finished the job more quickly, except the box kept shaking and clattering.

When Trace had finally managed to remove the padlock, he swung the door open and jumped sideways with a lot more agility than I’d expected from a guy as pudgy as he was.

Holding my breath, I peered into the box.

Inside the steel box was a lump of green goo about the size and shape of a beanbag chair.

I was sure there must be something else in there. Something brutal and deadly that had been making all that noise. But except for the goo, the box was empty.

I scratched my head. Unless the stuff was a giant radioactive booger, I couldn’t see what was so dangerous.

“That’s
it
?” Milton asked. He sounded almost disappointed that he hadn’t been viciously attacked yet.

“You were expecting something else?” Gavin inquired.

“I just thought, with all the banging around and everything, that it would be …”

“Deadlier?”

“Well …” Milton shrugged. “Yeah.”

“Looks aren’t everything. What we have here”—Gavin
gestured at the lump of goo—“is state-of-the-art technology. This mucilaginous substance can stretch itself and harden into nearly any form without losing its tensile strength. And its built-in artificial intelligence means that it adapts perfectly to your individual abilities. We’ve named it GLOM.”

“Gelatinous Learning-Oriented Material,” Trace explained.

Milton glanced from the GLOM to Gavin and back again in disbelief.

“I can see you’re still skeptical,” Gavin said. “So I’ll tell you what. You can be the first to try it out.”

“Me?” Milton’s voice rose a note higher than usual. He took another uncertain glance in the direction of the goo.

“No need for concern,” Gavin said. “It’s quite simple. The technology will customize itself to your skill level.”

“Okay. So then—what am I supposed to do?”

“Just approach the box. Slowly. The GLOM will take care of the rest.”

I guess Milton wanted to prove himself, because he puffed out his chest, trying to look as confident as possible.

“No big deal,” he said, walking toward the box. “I’m not scared of this oversized piece of chewing gum. Nothing I can’t—
Yaaarghh!
”

In the blink of an eye, the GLOM sprang forward, transforming from a shapeless lump into something else entirely. A human figure. And not just
any
human figure. It looked just like Milton. Except a whole lot greener.

The GLOM landed in front of Milton. For a second, they stood there, each looking back at the other—as if Milton were staring at a neon green reflection of himself.

And then the GLOM attacked.

In a lightning-fast barrage of movements, the GLOM stomped on Milton’s toe, elbowed him in the stomach, and got him into a headlock.

“You see, it’s just as I described,” Gavin said. “The GLOM has now solidified, using its rubberlike flexibility and sophisticated artificial intelligence to perfectly customize itself to match its opponent’s abilities.”

The green Milton was now giving a pretty serious noogie to the regular Milton, rubbing its fist into the top of Milton’s head.

“You must fight back!” Gavin called out. “How are you ever going to take on some of the world’s most dangerous villains if you can’t even defend yourself from yourself?”

Milton finally managed to twist away from the GLOM’s grasp. He staggered backward, red-faced, while the GLOM watched, hands on its green hips, looking very satisfied with itself.

“Go ahead!” Gavin urged. “Make your attack!”

Milton tried to take Gavin’s advice. He lunged forward, flinging his fist wildly. The GLOM ducked, easily dodging the punch. While Milton was still off balance, the replica reared back and kicked him hard in the shin.

“OUCH!” Milton wailed. “This thing fights dirty!”

“What? You expect supervillains to play by the rules? You’re just going to have to get better.”