Super Powereds: Year 3 (56 page)

                Smitt’s computer was the easiest part; Eliza merely popped a jump-drive into his desktop and let the programs installed do their work. These would first install key-logging software, as well as put any camera or microphone hardware under their control. After that, they would begin gathering up all of the files stored in the hard drive. There would almost certainly be nothing of value on it—only a fool kept things in such an easily breached location—but it never hurt to roll the dice that he might be stupid.

                While the computer was being scanned, Eliza did a sweep over the rest of the apartment. She found no pictures, notes, or even mementos that seemed personal. Smitt was either truly dedicated to the lonely life his job necessitated, or he was a master of keeping things buried. Eliza kept digging, going through all of the standard hiding spots she knew to check, hoping to find something useful. Along the way, she slipped in the occasional listening device. They wouldn’t go undiscovered for long, Smitt kept his home too bare and easy to sweep, but hopefully, they’d get what they needed quickly.

                It was in one of the last spots that she finally came up aces. Smitt had an older model television, the type that wasn’t compressed into a perfectly flat screen. Eliza might have overlooked it, had the screws on the back not shown signs of their paint being stripped away. With great care, she removed the rear portion, pulling it off to reveal a set of files and a portable hard drive taped to an out-of-the-way section.

                “Hello there.” Eliza’s voice was practically a purr as she delicately touched the two objects. The air around her other hand shimmered for a moment, and then a duplicate set of items appeared clutched in her fingers. Eliza set those down and went about re-attaching the television’s rear. The last thing she needed was to tip off Smitt that she’d found his hidey-hole.

                The objects she’d created would last three days, or until she dismissed them. Unlike many duplicators, Eliza’s copies were perfect. They could be altered, tested, even broken into pieces, yet each would still refuse to dissolve. Even the data on the hard drive would be identical to its originator. This talent, along with the fact that her copies didn’t need to stay in proximity to her, were what made Eliza such a valued asset in Ms. Pips’ organization. No one could create a forgery like Eliza Tracey, because hers were effectively the real deal.

                When the television was whole, Eliza checked her watch. She still had plenty of time before Smitt would come back, but the sooner she got out of there, the better. A quick glance told her the jump drive had finished its work, since it was now flashing green. Still, despite the inclination to go while time was on her side, Eliza couldn’t resist opening one of the files she’d duplicated. Perhaps she was hoping to gain some perspective on this man called Smitt; perhaps it was sheer curiosity.

                As soon as she flipped to the first page, Eliza’s heart began to pound. Vince’s face stared back at her, a picture of him taken as he walked between classes. Her fingers danced through the file’s contents, unveiling notes tracking his daily activities. Observations, schedules, pictures; all of it centered around one silver-haired student. Nicholas had been right. Smitt didn’t care about them. He was after Vince.

                Eliza slammed the file shut, stuffing it and the hard drive into her backpack. She hurried over and grabbed the jump drive, all the while desperately working against the sudden desire to torch everything this man owned. That was not the way they did things. That was not the way she’d been trained. Bouts of impulse and anger were fleeting; they led to temporary solutions. He wasn’t going to get off with something as simple as an apartment fire. When they took down Smitt, it would be in a way that he could never come back from.

                And when that day came, Eliza no longer had any inclination to let Nicholas be the one turning the screws.

104.

               The sudden pounding on the front door of Melbrook made everyone except Chad jump. Alice, Hershel, and Vince all exchanged glances, each mentally preparing for whatever insane task or problem was going to burst through their door next.

                “Guys, it's Alex,” Mary informed them, not even looking up from the book she was reading as she sat on the couch.

                “Is something wrong?” Vince asked.

                “No. Now go let him in before he kicks the door down.”

                Hershel obliged, leaving the room and returning with Alex, who was nearly vibrating with excitement. The shaggy-haired young man was hopping excitedly from foot to foot, scarcely able to contain his evident joy.

                “Did you guys see? Did you see it yet?”

                “See what? Is there an announcement about the upcoming test?” Chad’s interest perked up at the possibility of HCP information.

                “What? No, who cares about that? The new 
Star Puncher
 trailer just got released online! It’s coming out in February, which means we only have like three months to prepare.” Alex’s voice nearly sparked with energy as he spoke.

                Most of the dorm greeted this news with disinterest or confusion, but one Melbrook resident nearly lost his ability to stand upon hearing Alex’s words.

                “No. Freaking. Way.” Hershel's eyes were wide, and his words filled with awe. “Are you sure this isn’t another hoax? We had that fake trailer three years ago.”

                Alex shook his head so quickly that there was no way he didn’t give himself a headache. “That was my first thought too, so I went right to the studio’s site. They had the trailer loaded up, as well as information about the release. This is the real damn deal, no question about it.”

                “Excuse me,” Vince said, interrupting as politely as he could. “Could someone explain what this 
Star Puncher
 thing is? I grew up without seeing most movies and television.”

                “It’s not just you. I’ve never heard of it either,” Alice added. She’d been curled up in one of the chairs, working on her Subtlety assignment, but it was clear there wouldn’t be a lot of work getting done until Hershel and Alex calmed down.

                “Ditto, not that I think that surprised anyone.” Mary gave up on trying to read and stuck her finger in the pages to mark her spot.

                “No one should feel bad. It’s sort of a niche thing,” Hershel told them. “Originally, 
Star Puncher
 was a television series in the late sixties. It lasted all of five episodes before going off the air. Then, four years later, it got revived as a movie, and that’s when it really hit its stride.”

                “It was that good?” Chad asked.

                “No, that awful,” Alex said. “Cheap props, ham acting, and dialogue that was almost nothing but one-liners. Critics called it the worst sci-fi movie ever made.”

                “So, naturally, a few years later, it turned into a cult phenomenon,” Hershel continued. “It gained enough odd popularity that, in the early eighties, they released a sequel: 
Star Puncher and The Nightingale Furies. 
Same actors, same special effects team, same director, and they knocked it out of the park.”

                “But by that you mean it was bad, right? This is kind of confusing,” Vince said.

                “Yes, they mean it was bad; just in a way that was still highly entertaining,” Mary clarified. She deeply loved Hershel after their years together, but this was a passion she’d never found a way to share with him. Instead, she merely did her best not to seem dismissive when he went into these excited frenzies.

                “It was enjoyable, let’s just put it that way,” Hershel explained. “As was the next one that came out in the early nineties,
Star Puncher and the Black Matter Kick-Fighter
. That was the last one to be made, though, because the director passed away.”

                “But rumors have persisted about a fourth one in the making, helmed by the director’s own daughter and with full participation from the cast. It’s been just a myth on message boards for decades, the sort of urban legend that people joke about. That is, until today!” Alex actually jumped in the air and pumped his arm with joy at those last words, his admirable efforts to contain his excitement finally proving to be futile.

                “Here’s what I don’t get, why do you need months to prepare for a movie coming out?” Chad asked.

                Hershel and Alex stared at him, momentarily dumbfounded by the madness of such a question.

                “There’s a ton to do,” Alex said eventually. “Making costumes, finding out which theater has the best release party, searching for leaks online so we’re up to the minute on every detail, and of course, watching the first three over and over to get ourselves psyched up for the big release.”

                “Is this . . . normal?” Chad asked. “I mean, is it an activity that a lot of people engage in?” Vince shrugged; he was on the verge of asking something similar. Alice pointedly turned her head to avoid making eye-contact; she couldn’t think of an answer that would be both polite and honest. Ultimately, it was Mary who had to offer some perspective.

                “’Normal’ may not be the best word; it’s just a pastime that some people enjoy. Others may like baseball or making paintings. Our boys here get a kick out of old sci-fi movies. It’s what takes the stress of daily life away from them.”

                “Ah, I understand.” Chad looked over at the two enthusiastic nerds. “May I join in your activities?”

                Alice let out a sound somewhere between a cough and a choke, and even Mary blinked in surprise.

                “You sure you want to do that?” Hershel asked. “Mary was being nice; this is pretty nerdy.”

                “Perhaps, but I moved here to actively participate more in life. If this film series can excite you to such a degree, it certainly bears experiencing.”

                “Dude.” Alex jabbed Hershel in the ribs. “He would make a perfect Gelfrak. He’s even got the speech pattern down pat.”

                “Holy crap, how did I not see that?” Hershel nodded his agreement.

                “I think I’d like to tag along too,” Vince said. “I could use something a little more light-hearted to think about.”

                “Well then, you chose wrong, because 
Star Puncher 
is a tale of determination, woe, and triumph. There’s nothing light about it,” Alex said.

                “There was that scene on the planet of giggle-creatures,” Hershel reminded him.

                “Oh, that is a good point. Wait, why are we sitting around talking about this? There’s an online trailer to watch. To Hershel’s room!” Alex led the charge, heading to the boys’ side, only to wait until Hershel pressed the button on the door to let him past. With that, the males were gone from the room, leaving only Alice and Mary remaining.

                “Be straight with me here,” Alice said, once the door had shut. “What are the odds they try and rope us into this somehow?”

                “Technically, your odds are better, since, unlike me, you aren’t dating one of them.”

                “Why did you say ‘technically’?”

                “Because,” Mary replied with a somber expression. “I think we both know that if I go down, you’re coming with me.”

                “Cruel. Very cruel.”

105.

               The cipher had actually been three different codes, each buried more deeply than the last within the pattern. Will had spent an extra day combing through for any others that he might have missed, but after that, he reasoned they were either not present or too complex for him to crack. Translating the codes had led him to three separate websites, each tucked away on a near-forgotten server. The sites had been filled with riddles, hints, and codes. From these, Will had been led to various spots around the town, having to solve geometric and logic problems corresponding to his surroundings along each step of the way.

                At the end of the first code’s path, Will had found himself in a seedy gym near the outskirts of town. For possibly the first time, he was thankful that the HCP had forced such constant conditioning on its students. In high school, he’d have felt impossibly out of place walking into the locker room of an establishment dedicated to personal fitness. Two-and-a-half years of training had gifted him with a body that, while lacking in comparison to some of his classmates, would easily pass unnoticed in such a location.

                His quick eyes skimmed the room, locating the locker number his last clue had directed him to. As he approached it, Will noticed a silver combination lock resting on the handle. He smiled a touch, feeling the tumblers in his brain click into place. He’d wondered what that last sequence of numbers had been for, and now, he had his answer. Like a desperate man assembling pre-made furniture, he’d discovered where the last piece fit.