The Superhero's Powers (The Superhero's Son Book 4) (6 page)

“Not really,” said Malcolm. “I don't talk to James much because—well, because he lives all the way in D.C. and doesn't get much time off to come and visit us.”

I could tell that there was another reason Malcolm didn't talk to James much, but I didn't want to press the subject because I could tell that Malcolm wasn't in the mood to talk about it. “But has he ever told you anything about Cadmus? Ever?”

“All he told me is that Cadmus is a tough boss,” said Malcolm. “Why do you want to know?”

I shrugged. “No reason in particular.”

In truth, however, I wanted to know because I was remembering the Project Neo folder I had found in the bottom floor of the Cavern last month. I had found a folder containing information about Cadmus Smith and nine other neoheroes, files dated at least a year before the first neoheroes were discovered. Unfortunately, Shade had managed to steal the files from me before I could look at them, so I never got to learn as much about what Project Neo was originally about as I wanted. But I was still curious, because if those documents had been true, then that meant there had been neoheroes even before 1986. I hadn't asked Dad or any of the older neoheroes about it, but that was mostly because I doubted that any of them knew anything about it, and Cadmus Smith probably would never talk with me about it even if I asked.

“Well, okay,” said Malcolm. “But if you ever see my brother, tell him you know me. I'm sure he'll be happy to talk to you.”

“Sure,” I said. “Who is your brother anyway? James, I think you said his name was?”

“Yeah,” said Malcolm. “But he's better known as—”

A sudden crackle from the speaker in the corner of my room interrupted Malcolm, and Carl's voice came over the speaker. “Bolt! The G-Men are here to take you and your parents to the Compound! Are you all packed and ready to have an AWESOME time?”

“What? Already?” I said, looking up at the speaker in surprise. “I thought that they wouldn't be here for a couple more days.”

“Looks like they're early!” said Carl cheerfully. “And I suggest you don't waste any time going to the roof, because the guy the G-Men sent looks really angry, like he woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning!”

“Kev?” said Malcolm, his voice sounding puzzled. “Who is that?”

“Oh, er, that's the House's AI,” I said. “Sorry, but I have to leave. If I see your brother at the Compound, I'll say hi. See you … sometime.”

It was a lame last thing to say to my best friend, but it was all I could think to say because I honestly did not know when I would speak to him again.

So, shutting off my watch, I stood up, grabbed my things, and dashed out of my room, making my way to the roof and hoping that my parents and I would not be in hiding for long.

But if what Malcolm said was true … about how Robert was planning to do more than just get his revenge on me … then that probably meant that my parents and I were going to be in hiding for a long time.

Chapter Five

A
rriving on the roof of the House, which was quite windy and cold today, I saw that the Neocopter was no longer on the pad where it usually sat. Instead, there was a huge, strange-looking plane that looked like a UFO with a giant cannon on top. It was painted black and gray, with a weird number painted on it that I didn't understand. The symbol of the G-Men was emblazoned on the front, however, which was how I knew that it belonged to them.

My parents were already standing near the weird plane, along with the rest of the Young Neos, plus someone I'd never seen before. He was a strong-looking guy whose age I couldn't guess due to the fact that his face looked … off. It was hard to describe, but his face didn't really look like it fit the rest of his body. It was almost like he had stolen someone else's face and was wearing it like a mask over his own. What made it look even weirder was how the rest of his body looked pretty normal, which made me wonder what his superpower was.

As I walked up to the plane, I noticed that Dad, Mom, and the other Young Neos were standing away from the G-Men agent. Dad, who was wearing his full Genius costume, stood between Mom and the agent as if he didn't trust the guy. And, even though I didn't know who this particular agent was, I had to admit I didn't trust him much either, mostly because of his weird face.

“Ah, Bolt,” said Dad, looking at me as I approached. “Glad you came here promptly.”

“And you've packed all your things without having to be told, too,” said Mom, smiling at me. “I'm so proud of you.”

I was determinedly not looking at the rest of my team— who I could hear giggling and snickering among themselves—when Mom said that, because I was pretty sure that Mom had singlehandedly destroyed whatever respect my team had for me as a leader with that one comment. I sometimes thought that Mom actually did have a superpower: The ability to embarrass me in front of other people at any moment.

Regardless, I said, “Are we leaving right away, then?”

“Of course not,” said the G-Men agent, rolling his eyes. “We're just going to be spending the next several minutes standing around awkwardly in the cold New York wind.” He shook his head. “Kids these days.”

I looked at the G-Men agent in confusion. “Are you the pilot?”

“Aye,” said the agent. He glared at the plane behind him. “Mostly because I'm the only one in the whole Department who knows how to fly the damn thing.”

“What's your name?” I said. “Uh, I mean your superhero name, that is.”

“I am the Uncanny Mimic,” said the agent. “But you can just call me 'Mimic' for short, if you can't remember my full superhero name.”

Mimic's abrasive attitude rubbed me the wrong way, but I tried to speak to him politely anyway. “Mimic? Does that mean you can shape-shift or something?”

Mimic sighed heavily, as if he was anticipating my next question. “Yes. I can change my face and body shape to look however I want. I am one of the best spies in the federal government as a result, and a fine pilot, as well.”

“Can you shape-shift right now?” I said excitedly. “Like, give me a demonstration of your powers?”

“Demonstrate my powers?” Mimic repeated. He turned his nose up at me. “Such disrespect! I am not some kind of sideshow attraction at a circus. I am a respected and experienced member of one of the most efficient superhero teams in the world. I will not demonstrate my powers just to amuse a teenager.”

Dad made a weird noise— which sounded like a distorted snort through his helmet—when Mimic said 'efficient.' Mimic, however, must not have heard it, because he didn't look at Dad. He just stood with his hands on his hips, looking as offended as if I had just slapped his mother.

“Oh, sorry,” I said. “It's just that I've never met a shape-shifter before and I always thought it was a cool power.”

“Yes, we are a rarity in the superhero community, which is why I am so important,” said Mimic. “But I shall accept your apology, as it appears to be done in earnestness and I am not one to withhold forgiveness from those who apologize for offending me.”

“Is that why you still haven't forgiven me for that time I punched you in the face?” said Dad.

Mimic glared at Dad. “Because you have never apologized for it. And besides, it wasn't just a 'punch.' You hit me with your electrified gauntlets and I had to have facial surgery to put my face back together.”

“What a waste of our tax money,” Dad commented. “After all, that surgery clearly didn't help you look good.”

Mimic looked like he was about to start arguing with Dad, but then he closed his mouth and shook his head. “Ah, never mind. What's past is past. I have orders from Director Smith to make sure that you three get to the Compound quickly. Director Smith does not like lateness, so all three of you should get on board the hovercraft now.”

“Okay,” I said. “But I want to say good bye to my teammates first. It'll take just a second.”

“Fine,” said Mimic, though he sounded annoyed. “Just be quick about it. I do not want to be on this stupid Island any longer than I must.”

I nodded and walked over to my teammates as Mom and Dad climbed up the ramp into the hovercraft itself. I stopped in front of my teammates and looked at each of them.

“Guys, I don't know how long I'm going to be away or when I'll get back,” I said. “I don't even know if I'll get my powers back. This might be the last time I ever see any of you, at least here on Hero Island.”

“We understand, Bolt,” said Stinger. “We're going to do everything in our power to find and beat Robert while you’re away. Maybe we'll even figure out how to get your powers back.”

“Thanks for the thoughts,” I said. “You guys just stay safe while I'm away, okay? Robert is dangerous. He's got a ton of powers and is probably looking for more. I don't want to return here only to discover that he's stolen your guys' powers. Or worse, have killed you to get them.”

I looked at Blizzard, who hadn't said anything yet but seemed like she wanted to, though I was really looking at her because she was the second strongest after me in the team. “Especially you, Blizzard. I don't want to know what Robert would do if he had your powers.”

Blizzard nodded, but seemed like she wanted to say something to me. I didn't really know what, though, so I said, “Blizzard, do you have something to say to me?”

Then Blizzard did something I didn't expect: She actually hugged me. It was a very brief hug, probably no longer than a second or two, but it took me by surprise anyway. In fact, it was so brief that I wasn't even sure it had actually happened or if I had imagined it before Blizzard said, “Good luck, Bolt, and stay safe.”

I could still feel Blizzard's cold hands on my body, but I said, stuttering just slightly, “Uh, sure, thanks.”

Then I heard an impatient sigh and looked over my shoulder to see Mimic standing there, his arms folded over his chest and his foot tapping against the platform. He even glanced at his watch, which told me that I needed to go fast.

So I just said a final goodbye to the rest of the team (lingering just slightly on Blizzard, but only because her hug was still fresh in my mind) and then turned and walked over to the hovercraft.

Passing Mimic, I heard him mutter under his breath, “Teenagers …” in a dismissive, contemptuous voice.

Chapter Six

T
he interior of the hovercraft was quite roomy, with seating for about ten people, though today it was just me, my parents, and Mimic. Mimic made his way to the controls at the front, still muttering about something to do with stupid teenage crushes or something. I didn't really pay attention because I was looking around at the hovercraft's interior.

It was different from the Neocopter or the plane that the New Heroes used to travel around the country. For one, like I said, it was fairly roomy, but the seats were arranged almost like thrones, sitting at various sizes that didn't make much sense to me. Weird, technicolor lights blinked across the trim and ceiling and it had the distinct feeling of having been re-purposed from another type of vehicle. The ceiling was kind of low, too, and I noticed a bunch of panels along the walls that might have hid robotic limbs behind them or something.

Mom and Dad were already seated in two of the seats, so I made my way over to the seat next to Dad. Sitting down in the chair, I noticed that its stuffing was very bouncy and springy, almost like jello. It didn't really feel like any substance I was familiar with, nor did it feel particularly safe, at least until I pulled the straps down across my chest and strapped myself in.

As soon as I did that, a robotic hand came down from the ceiling, grabbed my bag (which contained all my belongings), and went back up into the ceiling before I could even stop it.

“Hey!” I said, looking up at the panel that covered the hole that the sneaky hand had taken my bag came from. “This plane just stole my bag!”

“It didn't steal your bag, Bolt,” said Dad. He looked completely unfazed by the ship's strange design, unlike Mom, who looked just as uncomfortable as me. “It merely took your bag so that you would not have to hold onto it for the duration of the flight. It took our things, too, and will return them to us when we reach the Compound in a few hours.”

I looked at Dad and frowned. “How do you know that? Have you been on a plane like this before?”

“It isn't a plane,” said Dad, “but yes, I've been on this type of vehicle before, though it was only once and under very different circumstances.”

As Mimic took his seat at the controls in the front, I said, “If this isn't a plane, then what is it? I've never seen anything like it before.”

“Of course you haven't,” came Mimic's impatient voice from the front of the vehicle. “The government has made sure that no one has gotten an especially good look at this vehicle, which is technically a prototype, though if it fell into the wrong hands, it would certainly be a potent weapon in its own right.”

“What do you mean?” I said.

“What he means, Bolt, is that this is a very unique vehicle,” said Dad as Mimic started to press buttons and tap on touch screens. “Unlike most vehicles, this one is of extraterrestrial origin.”

“You mean its from space?” I said. I immediately looked around eagerly. “Where are the aliens?”

“Dead,” said Dad flatly. “Killed by the NHA, INJ, and G-Men fifteen years ago or so.”

“Wait, are you referring to the Pokacu?” I said. I looked at Dad as understanding dawned on me. “Is this a Pokacu ship?”

“Yes,” said Dad, nodding as the ship started to hum, like it was about to take off. He patted the armrest of the chair he sat in. “The only ship to survive the Pokacu invasion, though I can see that the government has obviously made some adjustments to it over the years to make it more habitable for humans.”

“But of course,” said Mimic, though without looking at us. “I made many of the adjustments myself, but I have still been unable to replace the controls with controls that are a bit more … human-friendly, to put it lightly.”

“Why does the government have a Pokacu spaceship?” I said.

“Because they got their hands on it before we could,” said Dad. He sounded annoyed. “And before, of course, I could get a chance to analyze it myself.”