Mod Superhero

As it turned out, Dr. Venture’s idea of celebrations was as understated as he was. 

There was a small break room near the testing hub—one of the only other rooms Emmett had seen. He’d gotten to sit in it precisely twice, not including this time. 

There wasn’t much to it: Several cracked leather chairs were arranged to face a wall of displays. The few times Emmett had been in the room, they were always tuned to the major news channels. A small kitchenette occupied the right-hand wall. 

Currently, Emmett and Clara sat idly while Dr. Venture put a frozen pizza in the oven. 

Emmett and Clara shared a wordless laugh at her father’s idea of celebration. Despite the facility they worked in, the doctor had a habit of cutting costs on things that weren’t digital or mechanical. 

“Tell me again, Dad, why we can’t splurge on takeout?”

Venture waved a dismissive hand. “Big Larry’s has come a long way since the first frozen pizza. This is gourmet compared to the pizza I grew up with.”

Emmett joked, “They didn’t have takeout back then.”

“Cars either,” Venture added, deadpan.

The doctor came over and sat with them, turning intently to the news. Silence settled between them as Emmett and Clara uneasily did the same. 

There was ongoing war across the Morrowed Sea, and riots in the South. Domestically, people were in a fuss over the market, though that all sounded like gibberish to Emmett; he’d never been good with economics. 

And spliced in with everything were superheroes and villains—the war across the ocean was plagued by warlord supers who harassed the edges of territories and battlefields—sometimes drawing the ire of both countries. Riots in the South were blamed on rogue masks and villains. Domestically, groups tried to pin the stock market dip on the battle between the Summit of Heroes and Antichampions, saying that the Antichampions’ increased activity was affecting investors. 

Then there were the brawls that destroyed a block of Dramford and Chicby Hills.

Emmett listened, but his eyes were always drawn to the clips of supers and villains. Only registered capes were shown with any clarity. Most photos and video were almost always far away shots of tiny figures—even so, they dominated the screen when they appeared. Lightning arced, fire swirled, and the air quivered around them. Each super felt like they heralded destruction—Emmett wasn’t sure if the news meant to depict them that way, but it was the overwhelming impression. 

As the moment dragged on, Emmett came back to the silence again, and it felt odd to him. He’d spent a lot of time with the doctor and Clara over the last six months, but most of that time was spent working. There was very little downtime since he’d started working here—pretty much those two other times he’d been invited into the breakroom. So Emmett shifted in his seat, unsure of whether it was a comfortable silence or not. 

In the end, he decided it wasn’t. 

Emmett said, “I’ve got a project coming up for engineering.”

Neither Venture nor Clara responded. They were both watching the news intently. A still shot of the Scarlet King was on the screen. He hovered on the screen, a ball of crackling psychic power. He was an old member of the Antichampions, one who was ousted for over-the-top brutality and rumored to have killed the former hero, Arsenal. 

Emmett cleared his throat, “I’ve got a project for engineering coming up.”

The doctor blinked, but it was Clara who turned and answered.

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

“I’m… I’m not sure yet,” Emmett replied, leaving out that he forgot about the assignment.

“What did you do last time?”

Emmett reminded her of his variable electromagnetic shielding—a glorified adjustable mesh—and that he couldn’t reuse a project from a prior class. It was a maddening rule. 

“What about your radio locator that you were working on?”

Emmett paused and considered it. It wasn’t flashy, or particularly promising, but Clara was right: He hadn’t used that for a prior class. It had been something he’d worked on in his spare time as a way to better track heroes around the city. 

“That might work,” Emmett conceded. “Thanks.”

Emmett briefly thought about using that as an excuse to leave early, but Clara spoke up first, asking if he’d seen the latest Full Throttle Heart. 

“No spoilers!” he shouted. 

Clara had gotten him into Full Throttle Heart early in his internship. It was an isekai anime about a delivery truck that gets hit by another truck and subsequently reincarnated in a fantasy world as a sentient truck that transforms into a robot to fight crime. Truck-kun had a habit of shouting “Time to get isekai’d” when killing enemies.

It was a satire and comedy, but the last two seasons were getting serious, and Emmett and Clara had been awaiting each new episode with anticipation.

Well, maybe she’d been anticipating it a little more than he had. 

When another lull came in their conversation, Emmett asked another hard question. 

“Dr. Venture, when am I getting paid?”

The doctor had been watching the news intently—probably zoning out from their conversation. For a moment, it looked like his eyes might’ve widened in surprise, but it was so fast that Emmett couldn’t be sure.

“Knowledge is its own reward,” Venture replied.

Emmett swallowed dryly. Rent would be due soon—he had to muster up the courage to remind the doctor that regular people had bills to pay.

Clara laughed sarcastically. “Very funny, Dad. You forgot again, didn’t you?”

Venture grunted a laugh. “TINA, please credit two weeks' pay to Emmett’s account.”

A moment later, she responded, “Credit delivered.”

“Thanks,” Emmett said.

Venture grunted another reply, but was still watching the monitors intently. 

Ever since Emmett had known him, the doctor had been a quiet man, but this evening Emmett wondered if it might’ve been something more. Was the doctor just preoccupied with something… or had Emmett overstayed his welcome? Maybe it was time for him to leave. 

As the silence dragged on, Emmett looked at Clara and thought he saw the same uncertainty in her eyes. 

But a question came to mind, and Emmett couldn’t help but ask it.

“You really like superheroes, don’t you, Dr. Venture?”

Even as the question left his mouth, Emmett regretted it, and it felt like the last half of the question had just tumbled out. 

Venture didn’t respond at first, and Clara looked like her head was frozen looking forward and her face was clenched—like she was trying to be shocked that he actually asked that question.

Venture sighed and tossed Clara the remote control. Then he stood and stretched his arms overhead. 

“It’s almost past my bedtime,” he said. “Clara, be sure to close up the lab before you turn in. Good evening, Emmett.”

~

Dr. Venture shut the door behind him, leaving Clara and Emmett sitting awkwardly.

“It was something I said, wasn’t it?” Emmett asked, slumping further down the couch—of course it was; he wasn’t sure why he asked.

“It’s… complicated,” Clara said. “Dad’s an engineer, and I’m sure you’ve realized that some of the things we’ve worked on are pieces of larger systems… of weapons. Not all of it, but a lot of it.

“I think Dad’s afraid that heroes will put us out of work one day.”

Emmett had gradually turned, trying to read her face. “You don’t sound like you believe that.”

Clara turned on the couch to face him, tucking her legs beneath her. “You’re right. That’s not the whole story. But I’m not even sure I know all of it. One day he might tell you more, just don’t get your hopes up.”

Emmett nodded—at least it wasn’t him.

“You’re cool with not knowing?” 

Emmett’s face wrinkled in question. “Yeah, of course. What other choice do I have?”

He’d meant it as a joke, but Clara’s face was serious. 

“Good,” she said, relaxing a little. “Because he does trust you, you know. We both do. It’s not every day he takes on an intern, and it’s not everyday that he trusts someone to work on these systems with us.”

Emmett nodded again. “I get it. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Good.” 

“...He doesn’t talk a lot about the past, does he?”

Clara turned away, staring at the screens instead. “He’s always thinking about the future. Doesn’t talk much about the past, or the present, for that matter.” Dejection showed on her face, though she tried to hide it.

“Sorry,” Emmett said, without really knowing what he was apologizing for.

“Don’t be. Can’t change the way things are.”

“Yeah.”

Silence settled between them, and Emmett took it as his cue to leave. If he hurried, he could catch the next bus. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said. 

“Hope so!”

Cheer bled back into Clara’s voice, but she was still staring at the monitors and the supers on the news.

~ ~ ~