The Man in the Blank Mask, Part 1
Serendipity.
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.
Part 1
Two years ago …
Ken collided with a beautiful raven-haired woman while walking home from the food store.
They turned the same corner at the same time. The woman was carrying her own shopping bags from a different store, and their groceries mingled as they spilled across the sidewalk.
“I’m so sorry,” Ken said.
“No, it’s my fault,” the stunningly pretty woman said. She looked no older than Ken.
“I should have been paying more attention.”
Debating who deserved the blame, they reached down to collect their groceries and again bumped into each other. The woman laughed, and the melodious sound infected Ken, raising his lips into a smile for the first time all morning.
She introduced herself as Jasmine and insisted on taking full responsibility for their improvised slapstick.
Ken could have collected the wayward groceries telekinetically, but he preferred not to scare the pretty woman away so soon, especially after she offered to buy him coffee.
“I’d like that,” Ken said. “Um, my apartment’s right here, so let me just drop off these groceries. You’re certainly welcome to come on up.” He wasn’t sure if that was the right thing to say, but it felt right. The way those wide eyes looked at him, Ken found his confidence surging.
“I’d like that as well,” she said.
The sorting of the groceries entailed some pleasant conversation, which continued as they entered the building, rode the elevator, and strolled down the hall to Ken’s unit. The apartment wasn’t much—was almost nothing—but it was his alone and had enough space for a visitor.
The conversation kept flowing. Ken couldn’t recall meeting anyone who was so easy to talk to. He told her about his hometown back east, his tutoring work, and his love of education. She told him about her aspirations of becoming a painter, her fears about having just moved to a new city, and her odd obsession with tea, which Ken found endearing. They even shared a favorite movie, To Kill a Mockingbird, and they debated whether the book or movie was better, each advocating for both positions and coming to no resolution.
They forgot all about coffee as the afternoon melted away. Ken couldn’t believe how well they were hitting it off. He had never expected this sort of serendipitous meeting to happen to him. Granted, he had never expected to develop super-powers, but that impossibility had indeed occurred.
He had felt so lost just a week ago, had shared his uncertainty with Miranda when they ran into each other on the observation deck of the Mount Olympus tower. Miranda had her own doubts and fears, but they promised each other they’d both do something amazing with their lives.
It was like making a wish on a shooting star. Ken’s telekinesis developed the next day. He performed a few anonymous good deeds, which drew the attention of Fantastic Man. The luminescent man found him and convinced Ken to become a superhero. “We must become something more than we were,” he had said in a well-rehearsed baritone.
Ken Shield, a superhero—it was amazing, and now he was Mr. Amazing! Everything was looking up.
And today he had met this wonderful woman. The chemistry was unnaturally organic. Another impossibility. No one should be so lucky.
Then, as if to protest his good fortune, a clap of thunder echoed. The window showed little of the outside world, but the neighboring brick wall appeared rather sun-kissed at the moment.
Ken excused himself to check his phone. A news alert appeared.
“BREAKING: ROBOT ATTACKS CITY,” The Olympian Herald reported.
Warner Pinkney had somehow escaped jail and reactivated his robot—and the robot was now flying over the city, firing lasers down indiscriminately. So far, it had caused plenty of property damage but no casualties. Yet.
“What’s wrong?” Jasmine asked, lightly touching his arm. “You got all tense all of a sudden.”
Ken knew what Fantastic Man would want him to do. Make an excuse. Slip away. Go save the day.
But Fantastic Man couldn’t tell him what to do in all aspects of his life.
“A robot is attacking the city,” Ken said. “I have to help stop it.”
Confusion twisted her face. “What?”
He had wanted to do this since bumping into her. He didn’t want to want to, but he was only human, after all. Ken lifted himself a few feet off the floor, and Jasmine jumped back, agape.
“I’m Mr. Amazing,” he said. “I hope we can continue this later, but right now, I need to go.”
“Oh my God.” Jasmine hadn’t blinked in several long seconds, each of which left Ken in agonizing suspense. “It makes sense now. Oh God.”
Ken hopped back down, afraid to ask what made sense. But he did, and she answered.
“They hired me—told me it was for an acting gig, a character-building improv exercise. I was supposed to run into you and pretend we were in a romantic comedy. I thought you were in on it. Ken, I am so sorry. My name isn’t Jasmine. I’m not an artist, I’m an actress. I think they used me to keep you out of the way. I’m really very sorry.”
Flushing scarlet, she bolted for the door. Ken called after her, then realized he was using a fake name. “Jasmine” wasn’t real. This wonderful day was a lie.
But Olympus City needed Mr. Amazing; that was real. Whoever had wanted to distract him—whoever had discovered his secret identity—wasn’t going to succeed. Ken donned his blank mask, and he leapt out the window.
*****
Today …
The Persepolis building didn’t quite touch the clouds, but it wasn’t for lack of trying. Ever since a dragon wrecked the Mount Olympus tower, the office skyscraper reigned supreme along the Olympus City skyline. It held court among the lesser buildings, which all congregated around it like doting children.
Only a fool would attempt to climb the nearly two-thousand-foot structure. And Ralph Nelson was indeed a fool. This was to be expected from someone who called himself Paper Cut. Dressed in a black unitard adorned with white slash marks, he resembled a zebra with a skin condition.
The city darkened early tonight. A thick blanket of clouds gave the stars and moon the evening off and provided cover to the less scrupulous. Ralph was halfway up the building by the time Ken spotted him.
“We’ve talked about this, Ralph.”
Ralph flinched and froze. He didn’t fall; Ken had waited until all four suction pads adhered to the glass. The windows cast a clear reflection of his gray, faceless costume.
“Mr. Amazing,” Ralph said, affecting a sinister tone.
“You’re taking quite a risk here,” Ken said. “What if you slipped? Or got tired? Think about all the time and effort you’re putting into this robbery. Wouldn’t it be easier to just get a job?”
“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes. That’s why I suggested it.”
Ralph peeled an elbow off the glass. “Right, then you wouldn’t have to live in fear—” Each finger transformed into a razor-thin blade. “—of Paper Cut!”
He slashed the air, and only the air. Ken floated in place, cape flapping behind him.
“You don’t have to live like this. Every single heist you’ve attempted, you’ve failed. You must have known that one of us would have spotted you climbing this building.”
A faint mustache curled into a smirk. “That’s the challenge, you see. I could go to another city, one where I’d be the only person with unbeatable super-powers—”
“Your fingers are a can opener.”
“—but there’s no point without the challenge. And yes, I knew one of you would see me.” Ralph chuckled, his fingers returning to flesh. “In fact, I was counting on it.”
He reached into a pocket and flung a colorful powder into the air.
Ken floated backward as the small cloud expanded. “Knockout gas?”
“It won’t kill you—but the fall might.”
Telekinesis plucked Ralph off the building and placed him among the spreading particles. The crook passed out.
Ken’s mask absorbed much of his weary sigh.
A sudden gust dispersed the knockout gas. Miranda was hovering beside Ken, all decked out in her emerald-and-scarlet Ultra Woman costume and false face.
“Him again?” she said. “He never does take the hint, does he?”
“He’s a stubborn one. And a ham.”
“I’ve been wanting to recommend a good acting class for him, and it’s been killing me not to.”
Ken glanced across the city, his gaze landing on the empty slice of skyline where the Mount Olympus tower used to stand. Terrific Hall now occupied its footprint, though their headquarters reached hardly higher than the surrounding trees. And there were no stars to wish upon tonight.
“We promised each other we’d do amazing things,” he said.
Miranda gestured to the lack of surface beneath their feet. “We’re literally flying.”
“The mask itches,” Ken said. “I learned to ignore it pretty quickly, but it never felt right. Fantastic Man was smart to put some parameters on all this. I’m just not sure if …”
He trailed off, so Miranda finished the sentence. “If these are the right parameters.”
“Yeah.”
Miranda twisted her mouth as though chewing on the thought. “Carey and Sibyl are still working on that Golden Gladiator Corps idea. Those would be some different parameters.”
Ken and Miranda had already discussed their mutual skepticism about the concept, but neither was certain it was an awful idea either. A Golden Gladiator Corps could prove a helpful supplement. But armored protectors wouldn’t be superheroes.
Ken nodded at the unconscious criminal who floated in his grasp. “I’m going to drop him off, then take a coffee break.”
A soft smile added warmth to Miranda’s false face. “Things are pretty quiet right now. I’ll come with you. I know just the place.”
*****
After a quick visit to a police precinct and an even quicker costume change, Ken and Miranda emerged from an alley and strolled toward the coffee shop.
“Isn’t it weird how sometimes it’s nice just to walk?” Miranda said. “I mean, nothing beats the other way, but a good walk hits the spot, too.”
Ken muttered his agreement, but he was only half-listening, distracted by how effortlessly Miranda had switched from her higher-pitched, regionally neutral Ultra Woman voice to her natural accent and its hints of the Southeast. The mask altered her face, but the vocal performance was all her. Or perhaps the mask assisted the performance.
“We’re just in time,” Miranda said. The wide window showed empty tables and a lone customer on his way out. “I normally wouldn’t drop in right before closing, but the manager is a friend of mine. She won’t mind. She’s great—you’ll love her.”
Mug Shots, the place was called. Ken hadn’t been here since the earliest days of the Terrific Trio. His previous visit was also with Miranda, back when he was pretending not to know she was Ultra Woman. A pleasant aroma, a distinct blend of coffee grinds, brought him right back to that awkward day.
“There she is,” Miranda said.
A raven-haired woman stood behind the counter, her back to them as she cleaned the counter against the wall. Ken glimpsed the side of her face, and his chest tightened.
“Hey, Charlotte,” Miranda said.
The barista turned. She was a beautiful woman with a beautiful smile, which faded when she noticed Ken.
“Uh, hi,” said the young woman.
Ken had met her once, when she called herself Jasmine.