The Faceless Man, Part 2
Kids these days.
Welcome to Olympus City, where super-powers, physics-defying tech, and unearthly creatures are all possible now. Human nature, however, remains unchanged.
No one is born a perfect superhero, but a few strive to live up to the ideal anyway.
Previously: A super-skirmish interrupted Ken’s tutoring session. That was bad enough, but then his student zapped him with a laser … a laser generated by the kid’s glowing hand.
Part 2
The teenage boy, floating in the center of the transparent bubble, flew across the rooftop to greet the newcomer.
“About time, man.”
“Had to ditch a tutor.” Aiden pointed a glowing fist at said tutor, unaware that Ken Shield’s face hid behind Mr. Amazing’s blank mask.
Still aching from Aiden’s laser blast, Ken climbed to his feet. “What are you kids hoping to accomplish with this? What’s the plan? Terrorize a bank? Knock me and Ultra Woman senseless? And then …?”
Aiden sneered. “Then we continue dismantling the institutions that have failed this world, so something better can take their place.”
“What specifically?” Ken asked. “What’s your definition of ‘something better’?”
“We don’t answer to you.” Aiden thrust his fist.
Ken lifted a hand, and Aiden’s arm pointed straight up and fired a laser into the empty sky. Telekinesis then pushed against the bubble boy from all directions, preventing him from building up new momentum for a fresh attack.
“It sounds like you want to help the world,” Ken said. “That’s admirable, but there are many better ways to go about it than picking fights with people. All you’ve accomplished here is distracting me and Ultra Woman from helping someone who might actually have needed it right now. If you stand down, maybe we can work something out and discuss how to use your powers to help people. How does that sound?”
Aiden’s sneer intensified. Ken hoped he was at least thinking while sneering.
The other boy, however, was definitely not thinking. “It sounds dumb.”
He pushed harder, breaking through the telekinetic hold. The bubble rammed into Ken and bunted him across the roof.
Stunned, Ken lifted his head. The bubble sped toward him for another attack—and slammed against a shimmering barrier that appeared out of nowhere.
A man in sleek golden armor descended to the roof. He maneuvered effortlessly while his jet boots emitted only the faintest propulsion and the wind hardly mussed his perfect hair. Immaculate goggles, barely visible, shielded his eyes. His smile appeared more or less permanent.
He was the Golden Gladiator. Ken also knew him as Carey but did not know whether that was his first or last name. Seemed he finally got his new armor operational.
“Kids are a handful, aren’t they, Mr. Amazing?” Carey said with a laugh.
“Out of my way, man,” the bubble boy demanded.
Carey peered through the bubble. “What do we have here? A bioelectric aura hardening into a spherical exoskeleton? Interesting talent.” He pressed his gauntlet against it. Green sparks coursed through the bubble, which popped as the boy passed out. “But it’s naptime now, son.”
Aiden turned and sprinted toward the edge of the roof. Ken was about to stop him telekinetically, but Carey drew first, projecting bands of emerald energy from his gauntlet. They enveloped Aiden from shoulder to ankle, tripping him up as they tightened. He attempted to wriggle free, to no avail.
Miranda flew over, holding her cape like a sack. It kept swelling and deflating. Several people, presumably the multiplying giant girl, were pushing from within. Muffled profanities filtered out; the speakers all sounded identical.
“I see the new armor’s working well,” Miranda said.
“Handles like a dream,” Carey said. “Almost as good as the original.”
A news helicopter flew in closer for a good shot. Miranda smiled for the camera, and Carey gave them a hearty wave. Ken ignored the helicopter and checked on his student.
Aiden was fuming. His hands glowed, shining through the energy bands.
“You really messed up today,” Ken said. “Don’t make it any worse. You’re better than this.”
“You don’t know me.”
Lasers burst through the energy bands. One beam shot straight up while the other fired off at an angle and hit the helicopter’s propeller, wrecking it beyond use.
Aiden cursed, eyes widening in horror. The helicopter sank.
Ken was about to leap into action, though he expected Miranda to beat him to it, even if she needed to free the girl to do so. And normally, she would have, without hesitation. But unlike before, a genuine superhero was in their midst, the one pure superhero in the entire world—and, not coincidentally, the only superhero who wasn’t born on this world or even in this universe.
“I’ve got this,” Carey said, diving off the roof.
His jet boots activated, allowing him to overtake the plummeting helicopter. He slipped underneath, grabbed a landing skid, and slowed their descent. He did it so smoothly, at precisely the correct rate so that they came to a gentle stop just above traffic. Pedestrians cheered from both sides of the street.
On the roof, Aiden was panicking. “I really didn’t mean to—are they okay?”
“I think so,” Ken said. “They—and you—got very lucky.”
“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”
Miranda floated in front of him. “Sorry is a start.” She sighed. “And I’m very sorry we need to do this.”
Ken telekinetically hoisted the two boys while Miranda carried the girl, and they flew down to the street.
The police had cleared a spot on the road for Carey to set the helicopter down. The news crew appeared fine, just rattled—but not too rattled to miss an opportunity to interview Olympus City’s newest superhero. A microphone and camera were already pointed at his face. He didn’t seem to mind.
“—simple math, really,” Carey told the pretty reporter, whose professional detachment slipped behind an enchanted smile before she caught herself. “I measured the distance to the ground, estimated your rate of descent, then solved for what my rate of descent needed to be to ensure smooth sailing the rest of the way. Which just goes to show the importance of staying in school.” He noticed the others’ arrival. “And speaking of. Here are the young whippersnappers who caused all the fuss and bother.”
Miranda unfurled her cape, and several miniature versions of the girl tumbled out, then reassembled themselves into a single, normal-size, surly girl. As Ken deposited the boys on the ground, the police hustled over, ready to receive all three offenders and get these minors away from the news camera.
“But who are you?” the reporter asked. “Your armor—aren’t you concerned that you resemble Doctor Hades?”
Carey turned serious, almost offended. “I’m the man Doctor Hades stole from. I invented that armor, and I spent the past several weeks reinventing it from scratch. It was never supposed to cause harm, and this one won’t, ever. I’m the Golden Gladiator, and I’m here to serve.”
“Ultra Woman!” the reporter called out, almost as an afterthought. “Any comment on this new superhero, and any updates on Fantastic Man’s whereabouts?”
Miranda stepped up to the microphone, all poise and good manners. “I’d be happy to answer both questions. Yes, I can vouch for the Golden Gladiator—he’s one of the good ones. And he’s currently working with a team at Hephaestus Enterprises to find Fantastic Man as well as Cadelaria Luna and Warner Pinkney.”
Carey’s nod drew the mic back to him, almost magnetically. “Correct. That’s proving a tough nut to crack, but we’re not giving up. In the meantime, we can only hope that no news is good news.” He flashed a cocky, almost flirtatious smirk. “But I suppose no news is never good in your line of work, so here’s a headline for you: The Golden Gladiator promises to step in and step up—for however long Fantastic Man is away.”
Ken had no interest in watching Carey effortlessly charm the reporter. Virtually everything Carey did seemed effortless.
The police ushered the kids into the back of a specially fortified van. Ken tried to think back and figure out what signs he had missed. He hadn’t known Aiden long, but he felt he should have noticed something.
Miranda drifted back toward him and whispered, “You okay? Always hard to tell through that mask.”
“One of my students,” Ken said softly. “The boy who hit the chopper.”
“Don’t blame yourself. You’re—you’re only human.”
Ken wondered if she had almost said, You’re only the tutor. “What about you? Looked like that girl was giving you a hard time. Was she that strong?”
Miranda gave an oddly forced smile. “Just trying to be gentle with the kid.”
Ken wanted to inquire further. Too many eyes and ears. “I’m going to slip away.”
“Sure. We’ve got things covered here.”
They did. Carey especially. The Terrific Trio had sufficed for a while, but they were merely close enough in the absence of anything better. Better had arrived.
Before flying off, Ken took one last look at the armored police van.
There has to be a better way.
Ken returned to the museum rooftop to grab his bag. He found it right where he left it, but gave it a quick inspection anyway.
Wallet, check. Phone, check. Keys—
He dug deeper, sticking his hands through his clothes and into every pocket. He pulled everything out of the bag, put it all back in one at a time, felt around again. Nothing.
Someone had stolen his keys.
"..dismantling the institutions that have failed this world, so something better can take their place.” In other words, they are anarchists.