The Faceless Man, Part 3
Friends on a subway.
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: Ken, Miranda, and Carey apprehended a trio of super-powered juvenile delinquents, one of whom was Ken’s student. During the scuffle, someone stole Ken’s keys.
Part 3
Riding the subway was endurable when Ken had no other option for getting around the city in a cost-efficient manner. But he could fly now. Flying was free. It was also a hassle, because he couldn’t land just anywhere, not without drawing lots of unwanted attention. He’d have to change into Mr. Amazing to take to the air, and then he’d have to find somewhere to change back. And along the way, he might encounter a situation requiring his attention. As Mr. Amazing, the odds of reaching any destination in a timely manner were slim.
Carey had volunteered to monitor the city this afternoon, following yesterday’s successful local debut. Either he or Miranda could respond to any incident far more quickly than Ken. Besides, subways needed protection too.
From a side seat, Ken observed his fellow passengers. The car had a decent crowd but wasn’t overstuffed, and he enjoyed the rare luxury of having no one seated on either side of him. It was a quiet bunch, everyone just minding their own business, no one causing any trouble. If anyone did cause trouble, Ken could deal with the situation telekinetically, without anyone ever suspecting his involvement. The people in this car were safer than they realized. The thought lifted the corners of his mouth into a faint smile.
It was a nice distraction from the mystery of his missing keys, which had cost him more than a little sleep last night. He had declined to mention the matter to Miranda or Carey. It was his problem alone, and hardly the worst problem, given that he could telekinetically slide the door latch into position whenever he left the apartment. The theft robbed his peace of mind more than anything else.
The subway reached the next stop and exchanged some passengers. Ken had a couple more stops to go before arriving at the library. Different day, different library. The Poseidon branch this time. He pulled his notes out of his bag, reviewed the afternoon’s lessons. First up was SAT prep, not that this student needed the extra help. Good kid, though. Next on the docket was another overachiever, a girl who wanted to sharpen her already strong writing skills. Also a good kid. Ken appreciated their drive and initiative. He just wished he had more to offer them—wished he could have offered more to Aiden and the other youths he fought yesterday. He wondered how they were holding up in jail, whether they were cooperating or creating new trouble for themselves.
A scruffy guy sat down next to Ken, despite there being several open seats. Ken resisted the urge to slide over immediately.
“Hey, man.”
It wasn’t some random stranger. It was Lance Pryce, albeit more unkempt than Ken remembered. They had lived in the same hall freshman year of college, roomed together sophomore year, and then drifted off in separate directions as Lance got busy with internships and Ken got busy with student teaching.
Ken would have expected to find him sporting a crisp suit, or at least fashionable business casual. Instead, Lance opted for a more ragged style; he had probably worn the same jeans and T-shirt back in school.
“How’ve you been, Lance?” They shook hands.
Lance flashed a broad smile. “Honestly, never better.”
Last Ken heard, Lance was working for a local marketing company as an account manager in a sleek, impressive skyscraper. Ken had nearly crashed through their windows during a few super-skirmishes. He always figured Lance was in there, toiling away, making connections, climbing ladders, and not riding the subway in the middle of a weekday while dressed for a lazy weekend.
“You still with that company?” Ken asked.
“Nope.” Lance let out a small laugh. “I left them a few months ago. Best decision I ever made.” He spoke at an oddly quick pace, exuding an almost manic energy. Not how Ken remembered him.
“Oh. What are you doing now?”
“That’s a long story, but I want to hear about what you’ve been up to. Did you get back into teaching, or did you stick with quitting?”
“It’s not really quitting if I never really started.”
“Yeah, you’re right. You do have to start in order to quit.”
The tone remained affable, but the words felt judgmental, prompting Ken to wonder what corporate life had done to the guy.
“How’s Hailey?” Ken asked. “You two still together?”
“Of course. She’s also never been better. But hold on. We’re not done with you. Your social media is pretty bare-bones. Other people, I see all the amazing things they’re doing, but you, evidently, are more modest about the amazing things you’re doing.”
Ken compressed his lips and took care with his words. “Not a whole lot to talk about. Just tutoring and the occasional other odd job.”
Social media and secret identities did not mix. Even before he gained his powers, Ken was never all that active on any platform. He liked seeing how old friends were doing, appreciated seeing their happy moments such as weddings or the births of their children, but he never felt he had anything worth sharing with the world. Lance had also gone quiet on social media lately, now that Ken thought about it. Hailey as well.
“I think you’re holding out on me,” Lance said. “Surely you’ve had some wild nights.”
Ken had indeed, but not the kind Lance was alluding to. “A gentleman never tells.”
“Sure, man.”
The subway car came to a stop. Ken’s stop.
“This is where I get off.” Ken gathered his papers and rose. “But it was good running into you. We should do it on purpose sometime.”
“Don’t rush off yet. I’ve got something for you.”
Lance stood up and dropped a set of keys in Ken’s hands.
“Why do you have my keys?”
“I don’t.” Lance smirked, pleased with his gag. “Not anymore.”
“Not really the point.”
Lance strolled toward the exit. “C’mon. Don’t want to miss your stop, right?”
Ken followed, slipping out right before the doors closed. He and Lance blended into the crowd heading toward the stairs.
The smirk persisted. “So you really don’t want to tell me about the amazing things you’ve been up to?”
“How did you get my keys?”
“What do you expect to happen when you leave your stuff lying around on a rooftop?”
Ken maneuvered in front of Lance and stopped right before the first step, to the annoyance of everyone who had to circumvent them.
“What do you want?” Ken kept his voice low. “Did you follow me here?”
“Yes, but I’m not here just for you.”
Lance seemed to blink out of existence for half a second, but he returned to practically the same spot, maybe an inch to the side. He inspected the contents of a wallet he was now holding.
“They say no one carries cash on them anymore, but that’s really not true.”
Lance pulled out a pair of twenties and stuffed them in his pocket.
“Where did you get that?” Ken asked, looking around to identify the victim. No one seemed to notice anything was missing. “Give that back.”
“Yeah, I was just getting to that.” Lance disappeared for another half-second. “Done.”
“The cash?”
“No, that’s mine now. But I left the credit cards and ID—don’t need any of that. Well, the credit cards would be nice, but they’re too risky. I don’t like to call attention to myself. You know, we have that in common, don’t we?” Lance walked around Ken and headed up the stairs. “Let’s go. Don’t you have somewhere to be?”
Ken climbed the stairs as fast as the traffic would allow, preferring to give Lance every benefit of the doubt before Mr. Amazing intervened.
On the sidewalk, Lance was leaning against a storefront, watching the clumps of pedestrians milling past.
“Took you long enough,” Lance said as Ken caught up. “I cleaned out a couple more while I was waiting.”
Ken kept his voice low. “You have speed, is that it?”
“You don’t have to whisper. No one’s paying attention to a couple of random dudes, but they might if you act like we’ve got something to hide.” Lance stepped away from the wall and resumed a brisk walk along the sidewalk. “Which way you going?”
The library was in the other direction. Ken still had time; he always gave himself plenty of cushion. He could throw his mask on and fly back if he became that desperate. He followed Lance, hustling to keep up.
“You had a good job,” Ken said. “That had to be a decent salary. Being fast doesn’t give you the right to take whatever you want.”
“I’m not taking what I want. I’m taking what my people need.”
“Your people?”
“We don’t all put on costumes and try to wreck the city. Are you really satisfied spending so much time fighting?”
“I’m protecting people.”
Ken watched him closely. The moment Lance demonstrated a hint of super-speed, Ken would seize him telekinetically. He just needed to pay attention and maybe keep the blinking to a minimum.
Lance flashed a ten-dollar bill. “You missed.”
He was faster than even Miranda. When she kicked into high gear, the displaced air produced a gust. Lance somehow maneuvered through a crowd without being seen, felt, or heard, as though the world moved in slow motion to him.
“How are you this fast?” Ken asked.
“How can you do what you do?”
Ken got his powers the same way Miranda got hers. Dame Disaster, a dying supervillain from another universe, somehow distributed various abilities when she blinked out of existence. Miranda was with her in Mount Olympus Park when it happened, and she received the best package. An unconscious police officer was lying nearby and developed electrical powers. Ken was riding the elevator down the tower, oblivious to the whole thing. He experienced a strange jolt, and then the headaches started.
It wasn’t until Miranda shared her story that Ken understood the source of his powers. He had since wondered who else was within range when Dame Disaster died. Lance must have gained his power during some later incident—a recent incident, Ken figured, or surely Fantastic Man would have spotted him running around.
Lance pocketed a small wad of bills. “You don’t seem very focused. How does telekinesis work if you’re not focused?”
Lance’s right arm went stiff at his side.
“I guess I just need to narrow my focus,” Ken said. “So let’s hold hands.”
“Interesting ploy. If I tried to run away, you’d probably rip my arm out of its socket. But Mr. Amazing wouldn’t do something like that, would he?”
“And you wouldn’t risk losing your arm. Can we just sit and talk somewhere?”
“We are talking.”
“Without the multitasking.”
“Right.” Lance let out a small laugh. “You want me to behave. You want to be discreet. You need discretion. I’d prefer discretion. But I don’t need it.”
He shoved Ken with his free arm, striking his friend’s chest at super-speed. Ken slammed against a brick wall before he even realized Lance had hit him.
“You okay, kid?” A burly man rushed over, ready to take charge of the situation. “What happened?”
Other people were nervously looking around for signs of a super-battle. Many Olympus residents loved the excitement of living in a city with superhumans, but most preferred to enjoy it from a safe distance.
Ken climbed to his feet, avoiding eye contact, not wanting his face connected with any weird occurrences.
“I’m fine. Thank you.”
Lance was gone. No—he was down the block, glancing back with a crooked grin.
The burly man pressed again. “What hit you? We need to know if something’s about to happen here.”
“Just guard your wallets. Excuse me.”
Hands over his face, Ken dashed into the nearest alley, slipped his mask on, and bounded to the rooftop. No time for a full costume change, but his nondescript collared shirt and slacks didn’t do much to identify him. He dropped his bag and cloaked his face; that sufficed for now.
Promising himself he’d wrap this up in time for his tutoring sessions, Ken dove off the roof and soared. People gazed up and pointed. Ken hoped they recognized the mask. He hated to alarm anyone.
Lance had already moved on. Ken wasn’t ready to give up. He wanted to deal with him before having to bring in Miranda, and especially before bringing in Carey. Carey was used to sharp lines dividing good and evil; he might not have understood a guy going through a rough patch.
“Hey, buddy!” The shout came from a roof eight stories up. “Is this private enough?”
Ken landed beside him. “You fly, too?”
“Nope. Took the stairs.”
“More important—why are you stealing?”
“Because I have responsibilities to meet.”
“So do the people you took the money from.”
“I’m not wiping anyone out. And I only target people who look like they’ve got cash to burn—fancy suits, expensive jewelry, stuff like that. It’s like a small, one-time tax.”
Ken was confident that Lance already knew stealing was wrong. The question was how he justified it.
“And what do people get for this tax?”
“Fewer supervillains.”
That sounded intriguing—sounded like a noble aim, or a clever rationalization.
“How?” Ken asked.
“Take the mask off. I like to look people in the eye when I talk to them.”
Ken surveyed the area. No news copters. No one flying overhead. No rooftop parties nearby.
But he hesitated.
“Fine, be mysterious,” Lance said, pulling out his cell phone. “Probably better we show you anyway.” His fingers blurred over the screen, and he pocketed the phone. “Once you see it, you’ll understand.”
A tall rectangle of air warped and waved, in a persistent state of flux. Lance gestured to it.
“Care to step on through?”
“I have somewhere to be.”
“And I’m guessing you’re early.”
That was true. “Is this another of your powers?”
“No, this is Hailey’s. You really going to make a lady hold a door open this long? You coming or not?”
Ken felt obligated to check it out—after today’s lessons, though. He was about to speak, until Lance cut him off.
“By the way, those teenagers you fought yesterday? We sprang them a few hours ago. They seem much happier with us than in jail.”
Ken stepped through the portal.
"We don’t all put on costumes and try to wreck the city."
Sure- but most of those ones I don't like.