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September 17, 2008, 6:15 AM EST
The phone blinked as it rang. Lucas pulled himself
out of bed. He wondered how Ellie, who could both
see and hear dealt with it, but she was still sleeping. Most people would find
her loud, almost cacophonous snoring to be an annoyance.
He found it oddly comforting, a reminder that some
vestige of his ears still worked. He reached over
the copy of Contract with God that Ellie left on the
bookstand to pull his hearing aids out of their dry
aid kit. He quickly wiped the their plastic shells
clean before he put the batteries in and turned them on.
Finally he picked up the phone.
"Hello Lucas, it's me, Andy."
"You were never call here again," he grumbled.
"Oh please! You expect me to put your concerns above
the lives some of my best men, not to mention one
hundred naval officers?" Andrew replied. "Some super
hero you are..."
"Ex-superhero!" Luca declared emphatically.
"You can be an ex-rock musician. Being a super hero
is like being in the CIA. You're never ex-CIA,"
Andrew explained patiently.
"Shove it, Weinstein. It isn't just my request.
It's Ellie's. She's a normal. She doesn't deserve
it."
February 3rd, 1997
Lucas walked into the office. He'd only been at
this hero gig a few weeks. He'd heard lots of heroes
didn't get a call like this for years. Yet there he
was in the office of Andrew Weinstein, reclusive
trillionaire inventor.
A teenaged girl sat at the desk. She had a sketch
book in her hand. She tried to cover the drawing of a
rather realistic woman petting some strange creature
that resembled a dachshund if its evolution had been
guided by H.P. Lovecraft. It was the sort of activity
he got the distinct impression she wasn't supposed to
be doing on the job. She covered it with her long,
eccentrically artsy strawberry blonde hair. In his
humble opinion, the art looked nice. So did she.
Lucas's tapped out a tune with his pens. He hoped she
couldn't tell how nervous he was.
He quickly got in tune with the song playing over
the speakers of her computer. It never ceased to amaze
him when he found someone playing one of the band's
CDs or hearing himself on the radio.
"Mister Weinstein has been delayed for several
minutes" she said.
"That's okay. I'm not that busy," he said.
He stared down at the art hoping she didn't notice
him looking at it before.
"That's . . . that's really good. I have a friend. He's
a musician. He might be interested in using some of
your art on one of his CD covers," Lucas said.
"I bet he would, Mister Curry."
"Wait! You know?" Lucas asked, surprised.
"I have perfect pitch. It makes me good at
identifying voices," she said. "Funny, I always
thought a member of a boy band would have a lot more
confidence..."
"Yeah, you try to develop a social life when you
spend your mornings trying to write new songs, your
afternoons trying to make sure the other guys aren't
shooting up or contracting venereal diseases and your
nights performing and/or saving the city from some
used car dealer with seismic blast gauntlets," Lucas
said.
"You sound a little bitter," observed Ellie.
"I lost a good chunk of my hearing the same time the
powers kicked. The books say most powers won't
actually harm the user," Lucas said.
"Yes, that's common. Andy says if that didn't
happen, they wouldn't live long enough to pass on the
genes," she said.
"It's hard sometimes, living for the music when you get it through two lumps of plastic
and wires," he said.
"That's another thing, you should
really change your cowl design. Andy can whip up some
small improvements to your hearing aids, tie them into our communication network and stuff. Maybe make them a little less noticeable under the mask. Maybe
we could go over some designs and other tips for
disguising secret identities... perhaps after you take
me to dinner and to that showing of 'Freaks' over at the
university," she said.
"Well- that's kind of forward," he said, pleased.
She reached into a drawer and pulled out 'Polarized
Ions: Greatest Discovery of Modern Science' album and
a black felt tip pen.
"Would you be so kind?" she asked.
"Umm- yeah- um- it is this for signing that CD or to
give you my number?"
"Now whose being forward?" she smiled.
September 17, 2008, 6:19 A.M. EST
"It always comes down to her between us, doesn't it,
Curry-" Andrew said.
"If anything you have said is true--" Lucas growled.
"Look- Curry- if I'm capable of loving anyone- it's
her. That's why she's with you," Andrew said.
"Because you know what would happen if she found out
the type of monster you are. What you tried to get me
to do in that interrogation chamber..." Lucas said.
"Please- Harmonics"
"Don't call me that."
"Curry- you used to love the life. The first into
uniform in the morning and the last to take it off at
night," Andrew said.
"That was what? Ten years ago, back when the job
was all bank robbers with funny gimmicks, space aliens
who wanted to steal the world's cable television and
giant talking chimps. After- after- well- y'know-
it wasn't so fun anyway. I'm 28. I'm too old for
this crap," Lucas said.
March 8th, 2002 - Guantanamo Bay, Cuba
Lucas entered the interrogation chamber. The room
was small and uncomfortable by deliberate design.
The pipes dripped, but did not leak, not because they
were hard to fix, but because of a just-so-intentional
lack of maintenance. He could see why Andrew had given
him the parka. It reminded him of the windy, snowy
nights along the Inner Harbor in Baltimore . . . only
without the occasional pocket of warmth and only half
the smell of vomit and urine.
"Andy, what in God's name is this about?" asked Lucas?
"While you were on temporary leave with a member of
the team's support staff, the rest of The Explorers
were busy capturing this man; Abu Mohammed Amir. He's
wanted as a person of interest in connection with a
terrorist attack against a Weinstein Weapons
Industries plant. My friends in Langley and I want
you to find out what he knows," Andrew said.
"Don't they have professionals for that for that kind
of thing?"
"Yes... they've tried everything that Tumbleweed has
authorized to date. The Explorers are independent
contractors. Tin Man, at least, thinks that gives us
some leeway," Andrew said.
"And you want me to...?"
"You're a sonic manipulator. You have the ability
to-"
"No!" said Lucas.
"- to generate any sound in any frequency. Even
those that can cause serious damage to human-"
"I said no."
"I hope you realize what this means. You'll be
persona non grata in the super human community. Your
music career has been practically dead for two years
ever since The Enquirer leaked your 'other job'.
Many in music industry may question your patriotism.
Recording deals that kept you afloat could suddenly
go flat. Tour venues will suddenly dry up. You'll be
doing half time shows for the Frederick Keys. Or
maybe the worst possible insult . . . teaching public
schools. Those who can't do, teach. You're just
lucky you won't be teaching gym," threatened Andy.
"I don't care. What you're asking me to do is wrong-
and I won't be a party to it," declared Lucas.
September 17, 2008, 6:22 A.M. EST
"It's only one mission. There's a missing nuclear
submarine with the current team, most of whom you
know, lost in the Bermuda Triangle. We just need
you and some of my other recruits, mostly newbies or
those who are otherwise disreputable, to find them and
bring them home. I need a man on the ground that I
can trust. I need a man with a conscience," Andrew
said.
"You wouldn't know a conscience if it ran up behind
you, removed the stick from your ass and sang a chorus
of 'I am your conscience, look at me, look at me',"
Lucas observed.
"Which is exactly why I need you."
"No." stated Lucas, evenly.
"It's shame. You've almost rebuilt your life.
You've got quite a good CD- especially for a first
solo work. An odd mix of Pre-Jesus Freak Dylan and
Pre-Kiddie songs They Might Be Giants. Too bad
Baltimore County schools is having trouble keeping a
budget for its music program. Someone with deep
pockets could really do a lot to prevent that. I
know you can't afford it, even with what few remaining
friends that you have in the industry," Andrew said.
August, 3rd 2008
Lucas felt good as he got off the stage. The good
old Hippodrome was practically his home turf. If his
come back was going to work, it had to start here at a
one night only trendy 'Go Green' benefit concert at
one of the few spots in Baltimore that wasn't
comparable to the City of Dis.
He finished his gig and wandered back to the dressing
room. He'd be called back in an hour or two when the
three other bands had finished. He opened the door
and the lights were off. He could have sworn he left
them on, even if that wasn't very green of him.
"Surprise!"
Ellie was standing right in front of him with her
arms behind her back.
"Wha- what? It's been- it's been years. You look-
look- fantastic," stammered Lucas.
"I just came to say I'm sorry. I should have gone
with you," she said.
"But you were right."
"Stop that. I abandoned you at the worst possibly
time. You needed-"
"Look, I know you're the type who wants children.
Not now, but someday. You're human... I'm not- well
not exactly. It's not something that's possible," he
said.
She stared at him.
"How long have you been back in the states?" she
said with a cough.
"A couple weeks. I gotta job working for Baltimore
County teaching music to teenagers. I did some
fundraising for a few senators and a certain
presidential candidate. Then I stopped by The Daily
Show to plug the new solo CD- I'm surprised you didn't
catch it," he said.
She unfolded her arms. She was holding the new CD.
"Would you be so kind," she said, smiling.
He grabbed her and kissed her. The CD gently hit the
floor and so did they.
September 17, 2008, 6:28 A.M. EST
Lucas stared across the room at his electric guitar
and his old clarinet. There was a Polarized Ions
poster on the wall. He didn't miss the spandex. His
old band? That's something he missed more than he
thought. They may have been higher than Cheech and
Chong half the time, but they were otherwise okay.
He concentrated as hard he could to get the music
going in his head.
"Are you blackmailing me?" asked Lucas.
"Depends, is it working?" Andrew said.
The music flowed out of Lucas's body loudly but
contained geysers.
"God on Our Side- Dylan. Still using your pompous
self-righteousness to mask your anger, I see. Glad to
see some things don't change," Andrew observed.
Ellie pulled up next to him.
"Honey, is that-"
"Yeah-" he said. He turned back to the phone. "Look-
I'll get back to you on that."
He hung up the phone.
"So what are you going to do?" Ellie asked.
"Nothing."
"Don't you think you should at least call Angelica?"
asked Ellie.
"She'll be with me on this one. And she's his
younger sister."
"Still, it couldn't hurt."
"Look... I just got things back in working order.
My job- the music- you. I don't really want to let
him suck me into this again. Especially now-" Lucas
said.
The phone rang.
"It's her." Reported Ellie.
"And I thought Freckles was the telepath," said Lucas rolling his eyes.
"Caller ID, you doofus," giggled Ellie.
Lucas picked up the phone.
"Lucas- you have to go," Angelica said.
"Give me one good reason."
"You have Ellie. Josh- he- he's on the sub," said Angelica, her voice breaking.
"Look, I can't... okay? Not for Andy ... your brother
can freeze in Niffelheim for all I care. I hear it's
marvelous this time of year."
"Then do it for me. Do it for Josh. We helped you
get everything back after you fled to Canada for what-
six years? Do you remember The Explorers oath:
'Life is an exploration. All who know where they are,
who they are . . . ," pleaded Angelica.
" . . . owe it to the lost to help them find their way home.' I should remember. I wrote it," Lucas said. "Angelica, most people think you live up to your name, but you're just as manipulative as he is.."
"Though I only use my powers for good," explained Angelica.
"Then why doesn't Andy want you for this mission?" asked Lucas, suspiciously.
"He thinks my emotions would blind me in the field,' Angelica said softly. "He says you meet your first recruit at B.W.I. Though you might not like it. Last time you saw them . . . they
smashed a friend of ours rib cage," Angelica said, tears close to the surface.
Next: Better Enemies
All characters created by Jesse N. Willey
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