Action Figures - Issue Three: Pasts Imperfect (4 page)

Edison Bose is Concorde.

FOUR

When the Hero Squad, the Protectorate,
and the Quantum Quintet flew into Salem last week — jeez, was it only last
week? — to take down Kysztykc, the aforementioned demon lord, Concorde’s suit
lost power. I saved him from falling to his death, but he had to pop his helmet
in order to talk to me.

The face I saw then is the
face I see now, standing in front of me, welcoming me to his company — but if
he’s here, who was in the Concorde suit for the fly-by?

“Let’s get out of the cold,
shall we?” Edison says, all smiles. “If you’ll follow me up to our meeting
room, we have some breakfast waiting for you.”

We file past Edison —
Concorde — Mr. Bose —
him
, and he introduces himself to each student,
shakes their hands. I’m the last in line.

“Hi, welcome to Bose
Industries,” he says to me with no hint of recognition. He extends a hand. “I’m
Edison Bose.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr.
Bose,” I say, matching his absolute neutrality. “I’m Carrie.”

“Hi, Carrie. Nice to meet
you.”

Edison leads us across a
foyer as large as the first floor of my house, into an elevator that can easily
hold us all, and presses the button for the top floor.

“First fun fact of the day,”
Ms. Roche says, “you are standing in one of the few maglev elevators in the
entire world. There are fewer than fifty in operation, and half of them are
located on this compound.”

“Who here knows what
magnetic levitation technology is?” Edison says. No one raises a hand.

What the heck.

“Yes...Carrie, was it?”

“It was,” I say. “Maglev
technology employs electromagnetism as a means of propulsion. I believe the
Concorde suit uses what’s called a baseless maglev system, which means, unlike
bullet trains, it doesn’t need a powered base to repel off of; it uses the
Earth’s natural magnetic field.”

Edison, Ms. Roche, Mrs.
Zylinski, they all beam at me, duly impressed by my knowledge — which, to be
fair, I possess thanks to Matt, who’s regaled me with the mechanics of maglev
tech I don’t know how many times.

The elevator doors slide
open to reveal a hallway. I swear, I never felt the thing move. It’s like we
teleported to another floor.

Edison and Ms. Roche take us
to a gigantic conference room, which is anchored by a long, wide table ringed
with high-backed leather chairs. I expected to find one of those steel coffee
urns and a plate of pastries, but when Edison said he had breakfast waiting for
us, he meant
breakfast
: A line of buffet tables sit along one wall, all
of them laden with steamer trays filled with bacon, sausage, pancakes, and
scrambled eggs. The table ends with a punch bowl filled with fresh fruit, a
three-tiered tray of assorted muffins, and one of those coffee makers that use
the little plastic cups.

“Go ahead, help yourselves,”
Ms. Roche says, “and once you’re seated, we’ll begin our initial presentation.”

When you offer teenagers
free food, you need to either lead the charge or stay the heck out of the way.
I choose the latter and let my schoolmates swarm the buffet ahead of me.
Besides, this gives me a chance to “casually” hang back with Edison.

“That was very impressive,
Carrie,” Edison says to me. “I don’t meet many young people with such a firm
grasp of my maglev technology.”

Mrs. Z butts in on our
moment. “I think you’ll find that Carrie is a very impressive young woman all
around,” she says. “I personally invited her to attend the tour.”

“Did you?”

“I thought she’d benefit
from seeing your company, seeing the wealth of career opportunities available
right in her own back yard,” Mrs. Zylinski says in that rehearsed manner of
hers, speaking as if I wasn’t standing right next to her (annoying!). “Carrie
has a lot of potential, but she needs a little guidance, a little motivation.”

Edison nods, spares me a
glance, then heads for the buffet. His poker face never so much as flickered.

As we fill our plates, Ms.
Roche turns on the giant TV on the opposite wall. We sit, eat, and watch a
slick promo video for the company. High-end production values aside, it’s
pretty dry, predictable stuff: a short history of Bose Industries, an overview
of their areas of technological interest, and a self-congratulatory montage of
their pinnacle achievements, which culminates with footage of Concorde flying
proudly alongside a pair of US Air Force jets. I can’t help but notice there is
nothing of substance about Edison Bose himself.

“Now that we’ve put you to
sleep,” he says, “let’s get to the fun stuff.”

Mrs. Zylinski dithers and
frets over the first stop on the tour proper: the weapons lab, which is,
appropriately, teeming with security guards — security guards toting some
rather intimidating firepower.

“I know this lab was on the
itinerary you sent over,” Mrs. Z says to Edison, who is co-leading the tour
with Ms. Roche, “but I don’t know if this is appropriate.”

“I understand your concern,
Mrs. Zylinski,” Edison says with a disarming smile. “I don’t care for guns
myself, which is why I think it’s important to stress that we specialize in
non-lethal, defensive weaponry here.”

“Those don’t look non-lethal
to me,” Ned says, nodding at one of the guards.

“The rifles are capable of
firing conventional ammunition, but all the security guards on the property use
hornet rounds, a non-lethal bullet developed in this very lab,” Edison
explains. “Instead of lead slugs, the rounds fire a ball of graphene-infused
silicone polymer. Imagine getting hit by a small ball of Silly Putty.”

“A small ball of Silly Putty
traveling at about twelve hundred feet per second,” Ms. Roche adds, but I’m the
only one in the group impressed by this. Maybe because I’m the only one here
who has ever traveled at twelve hundred feet per second.

“The ball is also infused
with oleoresin capsicum derived from the Ghost Chili, the hottest chili pepper
known to man,” Edison continues. “On top of that, graphene is highly
conductive. The rifles are modified to electrically charge the slugs when
they’re fired. Upon impact, the rounds release both the chemical and the stored
electrical charge. According to the brave individuals who helped us test the
hornets, it felt like they were getting punched, maced, and Tasered all at
once. Well, that’s what they told us after they were able to breathe again.”

That makes an impression;
all the other kids grunt and murmur sympathetically. Sorry,
almost
all
the other kids...

“What’s the point?” Ned
says.

“What’s the point of...what,
exactly?” Edison says.

“Making non-lethal bullets?”

“I think the point is
they’re non-lethal,” I say. “The person on the other end of the gun eventually
gets back up.”

“Guns are supposed to kill
people,” Ned says, enunciating carefully, as people tend to do when explaining
something to an idiot (real or perceived). “That’s what they were designed to
do.”

“So you’re saying guns can
only be lethal weapons because — what, tradition? That’s short-sighted. And
stupid.”

“It’s not stupid.”

“Habit is an incredibly
stupid reason to ignore the potential for improvement.”

“Well said, Carrie,” Edison
says. “In fact, that’s the philosophy I drill into everyone here — though not
in those exact words. People get married to doing things a particular way, and
that hinders progress. I tell my people to always look for ways to do things
better, and never be afraid to do things differently.”

Take that, Ned.

I cling to my little victory
throughout the rest of the tour, because I’m totally lost once we get into the
science and technology side of things. This stuff is so far over my head it’s
not funny. I catch a bit here and a bit there — I have a basic grasp of the
maglev tech, and I know what nuclear micro-cells are (having once almost blown
up a nuclear micro-cell-powered battlesuit) — but mostly I keep quiet and nod a
lot, as if I understand every single thing Edison says.

I’d like to state for the
record: Edison Bose is a perfectly affable host. Concorde is an ass, but
Edison? He’s easy-going, friendly, even charming. Bonus: He seems like an
awesome boss. He greets all his employees by their first name and they respond
in kind, right down to the people working in the cafeteria where we have lunch.

Sorry, did I say cafeteria?
I mean
full-blown restaurant complete with menus and waitstaff
. No
kidding. I have a salad the size of a tire, made with veggies so fresh I’m
amazed I don’t have to check it for grazing rabbits. I chase that with a cup of
coffee and (oh my God
yes
) a slice of the best mocha cheesecake I’ve
ever shoved in my mouth.

I don’t care if I don’t know
jack about science. I want to work here.

After lunch, we return to
the main building. We’re taken to the human resources department, where we’re
to meet with members of the HR staff and discuss possible career opportunities
with the company. Ms. Roche takes me to a modest office and tells me someone
will be with me soon.

A few minutes later, Edison
enters.

“Carrie,” he says, taking a
seat on the other side of the desk.

“Mr. Bose.”

“Imagine my surprise, seeing
your face in the crowd.”

“I have to imagine it. You
have a great poker face.”

“Could say the same for you.
You saw me and didn’t blink,” he says, his tone implying approval. Honestly, I
didn’t react because I was so shocked, but if he wants to believe I’m naturally
unflappable, I’m not going to correct him.

“Nice trick with the
fly-by,” I say. “Let me guess: Concorde-shaped drone?”

“A little slight-of-hand to
help keep my lives separate.” Edison takes a long breath — a cleansing, calming
breath. “What
are
you doing here? You never struck me as having much of
an interest in the technology industry.”

“I don’t, but Mrs. Zylinski
really wanted me to come. She’s convinced I’ll experience some grand epiphany
and suddenly discover my life’s true purpose.”

Edison nods. “What
do
you want to do with your life, Carrie?”

“Oh, God, am I going to get
this from you too? It’s bad enough Mrs. Z is hammering me...”

Edison leans back in his
chair, studying me.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to
snap at you,” I say, “but I don’t understand why I’m being pressured to make a
decision about my future right now. I have time. Besides, isn’t it better to
think about it instead of rushing and winding up on a career path I’m not
really suited for?”

He nods again, but he’s not
agreeing with me. “Life has a nasty way of running away from you when you’re
not looking.”

“I don’t follow.”

“What I mean is, if you
don’t try to exert some control over your own destiny now, you risk losing
control of your life entirely. That doesn’t mean you have to make an absolute
decision about your future right this minute and carve it in stone, but you’re
doing yourself a huge disservice by assuming your life’s path will magically
reveal itself. You have amazing potential, Carrie, and I don’t want to see you
— what’s that look for?”

“I don’t get you,” I say.
“Ever since we met, you’ve been...how do I put this?”

“An abrasive jackass?”
Edison suggests.

“That works. But today
you’re all supportive and encouraging...nice, even. I thought Natalie had a
heck of a split personality, but this, this is totally blowing my mind. What
gives?”

The corner of Edison’s mouth
curls. I can’t tell if he’s wincing, or holding back a smile. “I had my reasons
for treating you like I did,” he says, “and I have my reasons for treating you
like I am.”

“Care to share?”

Edison stands and heads
toward the door. “Like I said, you have potential. I’d sincerely like to see
you realize that potential.”

He slips out without another
word.

What just happened?