Dark Skies

"You have got to be shitting me."

I adjusted the clump of folders, sighing as her crimson hair flared with plasmic energy. "On the contrary. Please have a seat."

"How did you get in here?" demanded my mother.

"Through the front door, as everyone else did, Mrs. Nova. Now, please have a seat."

My younger brother, Matthius, stared like a buffon. "I don't get it. What is he doing here?"

“Working. Again, feel free to make use of any of the four chairs before you.” I checked my Rolex. “I’m on a clock. I’m meeting with Blacklight and the Chaos Committee in less than half an hour, so we don’t have time to waste.”

My father rolled his eyes. “Bernard, I’m not sure what you think you're doing, but we’re here—”

“To receive international assignment from the Superhuman World Order Response Division. Yes, I noticed the gigantic sign at the front of the skyscraper. Things glowing bright red and yellow are hard to miss. Now, as I said, either you can sit, or we can send your arbitrary posting through the mail.”

My ‘family’, and I use that term very lightly, were rooted in place. Truth be told, I’d been waiting for this very moment for years. Years. To fully detail just how truly powerful spite is as a motivator is impossible.

But now, I was just too damn tired to care.

I was born a blank. To ninety-nine percent of the human population, that’s fine. Ordinary humans, or blanks, still hold power in society. However, I was not most people. Because I was Elise and Jason Nova’s firstborn son.

It’s funny; everyone knows who they are, but after you spend fourteen years surviving their household, you realize no one really does. Not really.

My parents are the most powerful Alphas on the planet. Their King-level Power scores meant they sat comfortably at the top of the superhuman food chain, and that came with its fair share of expectation. Expectations I naturally inherited the instant I was born.

So imagine Mister and Missus Nova’s shock when I popped out of her belly completely devoid of abilities. I couldn’t spit a single watt of thermonuclear energy like my mother or fly and lift hundreds of thousands of pounds like my father. Completely, pathetically human. The second the doctor broke the news, they considered giving me up for adoption, but that would look bad for the cameras. I knew this because they made it a point to remind me every seventy-two hours.

My mother never tended to me. A wonderful nurse called Silvia weaned me through infancy. When I was four, my mother shipped me off to boarding school until I was kidnapped by Tremor and held for ransom. Of course, Tremor was only a mid-level threat. Knight-level at most. I still remember the look on my father’s face when he’d crashed through the roof to dispose of the villains.

Irritation. Saving my life was an irritation.

“You never fail to find new ways to disappoint me,” he’d said.

I left at fifteen. It wasn’t easy; everyone knew my face, and tabloids love gossip. But I was determined and very smart. Not Alpha smart, but smart enough to breeze through Yale and secure myself a mixed chemical and business degree that instantly put me in SWORD’s sights.

My parents never even bothered to check. The sooner I was out of their hair, the better. In fact, that gave them greater freedom to really focus on what mattered, which was Matthius. They say he lit the Power Pad up so bright he almost blinded a nurse when he was checked. Energy, flight and physicals. The full package. My mother wept with relief. I wasn’t even invited to the press event where they showed him off. Nor was I there when he began his training, or present at his induction. They never found the will to care.

I’m twenty-seven now, and the Director of the entire organization. Last week, I had a meeting with the President of the US and Prime Ministers of Great Britain and Canada to address the growing threat of the Breakers. Negotiations went well, as I’m now sitting on a seventeen-billion-dollar contract to put together a subunit to root them out.

My report is due in three months.

Based on my personal projections, the Breakers will be cuffed in one.

Matthius slowly sat. “Why is your name on the door?”

“Because this is my office.” I once again shuffled the papers on my desk, then gritted my teeth. That was one of my nervosity tells. I disliked it. It meant I wasn’t in complete control, which was basically suicide in hard negotiations.

“Your office?” laughed my father, holding his stomach. “That’s funny. Where was this humour last Thanksgiving dinner? Or, for that matter, where were you?”

“In Peru,” I replied. “Addressing our subsidiaries.” I looked up at my mother and Matthius. “I understand you are here to renew your combat licenses?”

“Enough, Bernard. Let–”

“Mr. Skies?” Angela, my secretary, popped her head through the door. “Sorry to disturb you. Your two-thirty is here. What would you like me to say?”

“Push them to three, and say I’m indisposed. Have Lucas grab them lunch and pitch his troop transport vehicle to keep them busy in the meantime.”

She nodded, tucking a strand of strawberry blonde hair behind her pointed ear. “Can I get you anything?”

I shook my head. I wouldn’t be able to keep anything down. “Take your lunch break afterwards. You deserve it.”

She flashed her brilliant supermodel smile. “You spoil me. Chicken or tofu?”

“I just–”

“I know.” She studied me. “Chicken it is. You look like you could use a coffee as well.”

“You know me best,” I chuckled.

My father, never the minder of his own business, coughed pointedly. “Aren’t you going to ask what we’d like?”

“No,” Angela replied flatly. “He doesn’t like crumbs on his carpet. And you fought Druid for four days without sleep. You’ll live without the coffee.”

She then banged the door shut. My mother choked out an uncomfortable laugh. “What was her problem?”

“She’s protective,” I replied. “Now, a reassessment by myself and board members reworked the qualifications for maintaining a license, as many Alphas were getting them for the power trip. Control with no accountability. That is no longer the case. Given your resumes, you will all obviously be afforded A-tier paper, but that comes with A-tier demands. I have a list for you to choose from, but I suggest you take some time to consider them first. Even for you, they’ll be challenging.”

It seemed they were starting to realize this wasn’t an elaborate prank, and that I really was going to be the one handling the renewal.

“You’re the Director?” Jason (I’m already tired of calling him my father) exclaimed. “The hell happened to Calvin?”

“The same thing that befalls all great men,” I replied. “Retirement.”

“And they put you in his chair?” snorted Matthius. “Why? You’re nothing.”

I fought the urge to pull up his profile on the registry and boot him from the organization. “I know it’s shocking, but they don’t actually choose leaders based on how much shit they can blow up.”

“No, they choose them based on competence,” snapped Elise. “Which makes your appointment all the more confusing.”

“Let me guess, you waved around your surname until everyone bent the knee?” guessed Jason.

I darkened. “Over my dead, rotting body. I want nothing to do with any of you. In fact, if you’d done any research, or even actually listened to Angela, you’d realize I changed my last name five years ago. I worked to get where I am.”

“Is that what you think?” laughed Jason.

“There’s no ‘think’ to it, Mr. Nova. There are only my academic scores, internship experience and networking connections. But you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you? Because the only thing that matters is breaking the sound barrier or crushing concrete with your bare hands.”

“You really expect me to believe–” he started before the door flying open interrupted us.

“Skies!” barked Blacklight, sauntering into the room. His pitch-black costume and glowing red eyes were terrifically designed to inspire fear in enemies, but that effect dissipated after you had lunch with him. He was one of the bubbliest people I knew. “What I tell you about waiting rooms?”

Angela, standing at the now open door, grimaced worriedly. She knew how much this meeting meant to me.

“I’m sorry, sir. I tried–”

“Relax,” I replied. “Take your lunch.”

She nodded slowly, retreating into the hallway.

“How the hell are you, man?” Blacklight laughed, clapping me on the shoulder. “Been too long.”

“Likewise.” I didn’t usually like Alphas, but Blacklight was an exception. One of the truly noble and well-meaning superheroes out there. In fact, he’d been a big part of my promotion. People tended to steer clear of me when the world’s number three was always snarking at my shoulder.

“Got some business going down, huh?” he muttered, finally facing my guests. “Oh, shit. Novas. You guys get in trouble?”

My father glowered. “How do you know him?”

“Who, Berny? Good question. Truth be told, I just slip in every now and there to grease his gears. Keep the friendship running, you know? Never a bad idea to be in bed with the boss.”

“We are not in bed, Micah.”

“‘Course not. I wouldn’t fit. How much time you been in the gym, big guy?”

“Nice try. I’m not giving you Boston.”

Blacklight soured. “Come on, chief. I’m the best suited–”

“No.”

“Please?”

“Didn’t I push our meeting to three? What are you doing here?”

“You stuck me in a room with Lucas. Lucas! What did I tell you about the nerds?”

“Your phobia of R&D is silly and irrational. Lucas has some perfectly valid ideas that you should really–”

“No! Stop! I’m not going back. You can't make me.”

“Yo, Mike.” Matthius, the moron, attempted to interject. “Been a minute.”

Blacklight angled his head up to face him. “Don’t call me ‘Mike’.” He turned back to me. “Seriously, boss. Think about it, m’kay? The Kill Kollective has ramped up their plays. I’m built for shadows. Espionage and infiltration. It’s a perfect post.”

“Maybe, but you’ve already committed to your contract. If you want a reassignment, you’ll have to take that up with the proper department.”

“Actually, I don’t. We’re good friends, right?”

“Goodbye, Micah. Close the door on your way out.”

Blacklight deflated. “You are the least fun person I know. You could at least try to make sucking up fun.”

I offered him nothing more than a pointed look as he shot my family a glance before trotting out, whistling a merry tune. As he shut the door, Angela descended on him, causing a splutter of pleas before sound cut.

I massaged my forehead. “Apologies. Now, where were we?”

Matthius was pale. Blacklight’s dismissal was the first time he’d ever been overlooked for me. Elise looked equally shaken, while Jason just looked angry.

“If you really think this will make us respect you, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“Respect?” I snorted, leaning over. “I don’t care about your respect. I don’t care about you. Pick a spot and a list of objectives. And make it quick.”

Jason glared at me. “Fine. Oregon.”

I filled out a slot on my computer’s spreadsheet. “Targets?”

“Capture ten Rook-Class by the end of the year.”

I looked at him. “You’re a King-Class. We both know you could do that in a week. Choose again.”

“No.” Jason faced me smugly. “Ten Rook-Class.”

“I don’t think you understand–”

“Me too,” Matthius grinned. “Eight Rook-Class. In five years.”

Elise ruffled his hair, like he’d just said an adorable little joke. “We’ll all go together.”

That’s what snapped me. The familial warmth. Acting like I was some outsider, not good enough to be recognized and completely at the mercy of their whims.

I’d done that once.

Never again.

“Fine.” I typed rapidly on my computer. “I suggest you get packing.”

Jason laughed. “You can’t be that stupid to have forgotten how fast I fly. I could reach Oregon–”

“You’re not going to Oregon,” I snapped, hitting the confirm button. “You’ll spend the next three months in Norway, where we last spotted Plague. He’s been carving up the mainland for over ten weeks, and none of you have done anything, even though your energy powers are perfectly suited to burn out his toxins. If he’s not dead or locked in the Chasm by April, you’re all getting a suspension.”

Jason bolted to his feet so violently; the chair shot across the room and embedded itself in the wall. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“Make that two months,” I corrected. “Because I don’t like your tone.”

His hand slammed down on my desk, denting it. “I’m going to throw you out–”

“Threatening the head of SWORD?” I gasped in mock shock, hitting a panic button on my watch. Instantly, four pulse cannons dropped from the ceiling, then Death Droids stomped through the doors. Professor Pink designed them to be strong enough to even give Jason a run for his money, so outnumbered fifteen to three lowered their chances from grim to nonexistent.

“The cameras in my room have captured your damage to my property and intimidation attempts. Pathetic. Your timetable has just gone down to a month. And since your powers are mostly useless against him, Mr. Nova, you’ll be tasked with bringing down Titan.”

Jason almost attacked me, but the Droids closed ranks and warded him off. “You’re insane. You know he’s dropped off the radar for years now.”

“On the contrary,” I replied. “Word is he’s been making the rounds. Collecting old allies, prepping for something big. We don’t have time to handle him ourselves. You have a month. Hmm. That’s cruel. You have a month… and a half. Fail and I’ll expel you from SWORD. Or just release the tapes of you torturing Grimlock for his drug stash. Good luck.”

Elise was practically melting her seat. “How dare you. You’re lucky to be my–”

“Do. Not. Finish that sentence.” I rose to my feet, madness in my eyes. “You are not a mother. You are not a hero. You are not a family. You turned my life to hell. You make everyone else’s life hell. How many have you saved, in the past year? With all your gifts. All your privileges. Nothing. You do nothing. You are the evil you swear to destroy. You will serve penance now. Every one of you. Either you freeze to death, Titan beats you to a pulp, or Plague turns you to a carcass. I don’t give a shit. You never did.” I stabbed my finger forward, causing them to flinch. “You brought this on yourself.”

I dropped back into my seat, fuming as I glared at the Nova family. Their Nova family. I never was a part of it. And you know what?

I never would be.

“Now get the fuck out of my office.”