Corpies (Super Powereds Spinoff Book 1) (42 page)

To them, none of this was familiar in the slightest. Mordent had put them in charity events before, but never one as big as what they were currently heading into. It just hadn’t made fiscal sense; few corpies had any fans that would want to see them, and their powers generally weren’t strong enough to compete with Heroes and professional athletes in a meaningful way. Sending them into situations like this was a good way to make a team look foolish while also tearing down their self-esteem. Unless, of course, they had a big wave of public accolades to ride or a very famous Hero backing them up. Even so, Owen knew Mordent was taking a risk putting them out there like this. Most likely, they were counting on him to keep his team looking—and more importantly feeling—good.

Thus far it was an easy job. Zone was listing all the events he wanted to watch rapid-fire, Galvanize was reminding everyone to stay ahead of schedule whenever possible, Hexcellent was almost leaning out the window as she tried to catch sight of food trucks setting things up, and even Bubble Bubble seemed cheery as she spotted the occasional famous Super. Everyone was in costume, under strict orders not to be out of them unless they were safely inside the penthouse. Given that some of their activities were going to be physical, sweaty, and downright dirty, Owen imagined whoever did the team’s laundry was in for a hellish week.

At last the SUV angled into a covered parking area near the rear of the fairgrounds. Following the direction of several men in vests, Galvanize pulled into a large parking spot and killed the engine, then swiveled in place to face his team.

“All right, what’re everyone’s first events? Hexcellent?”

“Fiery Discussion is sponsoring a temporary tattoo booth where I’m going to stand around and help people pick what designs they want.” She watched as Galvanize began to open his mouth then cut him off. “And the designs have to be on the pre-approved board. I am not allowed to try and talk anyone into making the artist draw a dick on their face, no matter how funny I think it would be.”

“Very good. Bubble Bubble?”

“Cosmetics company is doing a raffle for free makeovers. I’m there to sell tickets and answer basic questions about the products.”

Galvanize nodded. “Given your extra burst of notoriety, Mr. Greene approved having some plainclothes security stationed nearby, just in case anyone decides to forget that we’re all here for charity.”

“I’ll stop by when I’ve got downtime too,” Owen promised. Bubble Bubble gave him a grateful look and seemed to relax visibly. In his experience, people tended to use a lot more manners when staring up at a tree-trunk of a man who could juggle cars like cotton balls.

“On that note, Titan, can you remind us what you’ll be doing with the morning?” Galvanize asked.

“Private panel for new Heroes, ones still in or only a few years out of their internships,” Owen replied. “They’re paying to get in and ask some of us experienced folks questions and advice for a couple of hours.”

“Hot damn, that sounds cool,” Hexcellent said. “Who else is in there besides you?”

“Not a clue,” Owen admitted. “I was the first name on the list when we signed up, and I sort of forgot about all this anyway, so I never checked to see who came after me. I’m assuming some people did, though, otherwise they’d have canceled the damn thing.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” Galvanize told him. “Plenty of people would pay good money to learn from your experience alone. All right Zone, you’re the last one, tell me you remember where you’re supposed to go.”

“Like I could forget.” Zone leaned back in his chair and set his sneakered feet up on the SUV’s dashboard. “Punch Juice is teaming up with a sports equipment company, so I’ve got to be on hand demoing what their stuff can do in order to get people to buy it. Which, by the way, I’m logging as work-out hours.”

Galvanize reached over and swept Zone’s legs down from the dash before responding. “I’m sure Mr. Greene will have no objection to that, since you are burning calories.” He looked away from Zone, making sure to meet the eyes of each member of his team at least once. “Now everyone, today is basically a warm-up. All the events are small and simple, with none of the showy stuff scheduled to start until at least tomorrow. Use this time to get familiar with the area and plan your routes for the more hectic days. Remember, we’re here on the job, and everything we do reflects on our team and sponsors.”

“Hey fearless leader, since we had to be quizzed on our schedules, what are you doing with your morning?” Hexcellent asked.

“I will be spending my morning at a meeting for organizers and team leads. Lots of slides, handouts, and boring details. Anyone who dislikes their plans up for trading jobs with me?”

Deafening silence was the only reply, and Galvanize allowed himself a smug smirk in the privacy of their SUV.

“I thought not. Now everyone get out there and do your best!”

80.

Owen made his trip through the fairgrounds as quickly and covertly as a man made of muscle and bordering seven feet tall was capable. Thankfully, the team had arrived early enough that the majority of others in attendance were either workers getting the booths set up or fellow Supers who were preparing for their own morning activities. Many, some Heroes and no doubt a few corpies, were in costume, but by far the majority of attendees wore uniforms from their respective Super Athletics Association teams. Just in his immediate proximity, Titan spotted several Fort Worth Juggernauts, a couple of the Tampa Atlanteans, and one relatively massive quarterback from the L.A. Crushers.

While Owen took in the crowd, it was also clear the crowd was taking in him. The more polite ones simply glanced in his direction and looked away, but a few felt free to stare at the famous, disgraced Hero hurrying through the grounds. As for the Hero himself, he dearly wished he’d paid more attention to the map in his schedule packet. For the most part, people kept their conversations about him whispered low enough to where he was unable to hear them, thankfully. On occasion, though, a word would rise up to greet his ears, and it was rarely a kind one.

His brisk pace waned as Owen forced himself to slow down. This wasn’t a mission or rescue where he could get in and get out. He and his team were going to be here for several days. This walk was likely to be the easiest one he’d have in that entire time; at least these people felt some professional courtesy towards him. If he wanted to get through it, Owen would have to do more than act like it wasn’t bothering him; he would actually have to not let it bother him. He’d known this was part of what he was walking back into when he put on the mask; there was no wiggling out now.

Taking his time, moving slowly across the grounds, it took only a few more minutes of searching before he found the small building where he was supposed to do the morning’s panel. Old, brick, and no doubt built for some utilitarian purpose long before Brewster converted this area to fairgrounds, it was still a high step up from the open tents that were being set up all around him. Near the front entrance, a small line of people in costumes was already forming. People younger than some of Owen’s teammates stood milling about in the morning sun. He was a bit surprised at the number; Brewster alone didn’t have this many interns or rookies. Seemed folks from out of town had traveled in for the event, which made Owen worry all this might be a bigger deal than he’d realized.

Pushing that thought out of his mind, he made his way around to the back entrance before anyone spotted him. He gave a polite nod to the lone worker stationed at the rear, a teenaged girl who looked to be in awe of all the famous figures around her, then pushed his way through the door and into the building. Owen had barely made it five steps before he heard a familiar, though not altogether friendly, voice call to him.

“Well I’ll be. Seems you really did sign up for this event. Aether was certain someone had put your name down as a joke.” Gale, fully-costumed and a bit bleary-eyed from the early hour, stood from her small metal folding chair and walked over to Owen, giving his hand a quick shake as soon as they drew close.

“I wasn’t certain. I just said it seemed unlikely that he’d choose to spend time at such an unremarkable venue,” Aether corrected. She didn’t rise from her seat, but she did give Owen a polite nod and gentle smile.

There were two more open chairs sitting at the long table that stretched across the makeshift stage, one far larger than the others and made of reinforced material, clearly set up with Titan’s renowned size in mind. Counting Gale and Aether, that made for a panel of four: a healthy size given the intimate setting and small room. In just the three Heroes present, there was also a large amount of power and career diversity. Gale was the leader of a team that had been passed down for decades, and a powerful elemental manipulator to boot. Aether could speak about running a team with unusual power sets, as Transcendental Justice was an effective, if unorthodox, composition of Heroes. Owen himself had the experience to talk about what it was to be a strongman, to run a team, to fall from the public’s grace, and to work as a Hero Liaison. The only area they’d need help to cover in order to answer all the questions these kids might have was Subtlety.

“I do not, for the life of me, know how you lot put up with arriving early to these things. Time is too precious to be pissed away on waiting around.”

Owen did a half-turn, already knowing who he would find. Sure enough, standing there in the sort of simple, unremarkable costume that was the fashion with many Subtlety Heroes, stood Jeremiah. It looked strange on him, and it took Owen a minute to realize that this was the first time he’d ever seen Jeremiah in full gear, out in the field. Every other time they’d met he’d been behind the scenes, not out in public. Having finally seen him in costume, Owen could easily say that the other version suited him far better.

There was little doubt Jeremiah agreed as he tugged at his mask and collar, clearly uncomfortable in the elaborate get up. That didn’t stop him from greeting Gale and Aether before finally making his way through the room and arriving in front of Owen.

“Ready to dole out the pearls of wisdom from years of accolades and fuck ups?”

“As ready as I can be when I have no idea what the kids are going to ask me. Haven’t exactly done one of these in a while, and I’ve been out of the field for a long time,” Owen admitted.

“Please, the questions out of the newbies’ mouths never change. They’ll ask about how whether to pick a team or create one, what it was like to fight some criminal that we don’t remember but they studied meticulously, and if we have any tips for not dying. Same stuff we asked about when we were doing internships.” Jeremiah paused, glancing toward the front door where soon a dozen or so young Heroes would come streaming in. “Just try and make them feel at ease. Nothing we say in these things is likely to make much of a difference in the field, but we can at least give them some hope and confidence. That’s what they really came out for.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Owen could hear the bustling of moving feet, a clear indicator that the door had just been opened. “Glad you were able to come out as well. All of you, really. I can’t remember the last time I saw one of these with three different team leaders on it.”

“You’re the one to thank for that,” Jeremiah replied, heading toward his seat. “We were approached about filling out the empty slots after so many others turned it down. Or did you think it was coincidence that the only people willing to sit on a panel with you, to be publicly associated with such a polarizing figure, were the ones who had personally worked with you before?”

Owen stared at the drably-costumed man as he walked away, then took his own reinforced seat. It was nice to walk slow, keeping his chin up and trying to be strong, but he also couldn’t forget how most of the Hero world still viewed him: nothing but a scandal and a fuck up.

He tried to keep that thought out of his head as the first costumed body entered the room and made a beeline for the front row.

81.

“Today, we’re here to talk to you about what comes next. While you had ample time to go over the Hero occupation and our world during the time you spent at your respective HCPs, by now you’ve all gotten at least a few months of real world experience under your belt. As such, the questions and concerns that you have now are likely different from a student’s, who had only theoretically delved into what it means to be a Hero.” Gale’s voice rang through the small building easily, keeping every back straight and ear attentive. Owen had to admit: whatever bad blood had passed them between since he arrived, there was no question that the woman could command a room.

“Now, we are not here to contradict your mentors; they are, of course, the best font of wisdom any of you has access to. But, that said, no Hero has experienced every aspect of this life personally. We may have different answers regarding different specialties or career paths than your mentors did. Please ask anything you like, though I do recommend you keep all inquiries respectful. Regardless of what our individual pasts may be, we are all up here because we have wisdom to share.” Speech done, Gale took her own seat and motioned to the event worker who was standing down near the front of the audience with a clipboard.

The woman hurried forward so fast she nearly fell over, scanning down her clipboard and calling out a name. A young woman wearing a bright uniform that seemed to span the entire color spectrum rose from her seat near the back and walked briskly to the front as the worker ticked the name off the list. Ordinarily, this was where the enterprising Hero would have been given a microphone, but in such a small space, utilizing audio equipment was a waste of money.