In Hero Years... I'm Dead Delux Edition (25 page)

She looked at me, wide-eyed, with tears coursing down her face. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“You start tomorrow. Noon, if you can make it, classes permitting.”

“Is half past, okay? I have an exam.”

“Perfect.” We shook hands. “One other thing.”

“Yes?”

“How did you hear of Castigan?”

Diana jerked a thumb at the Murdoch. “My grandfather left behind some letters addressed to various people. One was to Sinisterion. I went to give it to him at the book signing tonight, but the store clerk said that wouldn’t be allowed. People outside the store were holding plates with Vixen’s autograph. Someone mentioned that Castigan said they were worth a fortune. I did some digging and here I am.”

“You can give the letter to me. I’ll see that Sinisterion gets it.” I smiled. “In fact, I think a note from Puma would just make his day.”

Diana helped me get the duffle bag inside the vault, then we sealed it and turned the vacuum pump on. The bag contracted, but not by much. I gave her a receipt and wired the money to her account. The devastated young woman walked away very happy.

I returned from the elevator to find Selene standing in the workroom doorway. “That was very nice of you.”

I shrugged. “I’ll repay the money out of my own funds.”

“No need, it’s a legitimate expense.”

“Vicki told you?”

“She’s pretty freaked out.” She leaned against the doorjamb. “You okay?”

“He’s been my father forever, so I’ve had time to deal with it.”

Selene walked toward me. “That’s not what freaked her out. It’s what she read, and the things you said to each other. Khirgizstan?”

“Just wanted to make sure that was him. Means it was someone else in Beirut. The two had kind of melded in my mind.”

“From what she said, and what Grant said… Twenty years…” She caressed my cheek. “I saw scars, but twenty years?”

I forced myself to smile. “There’s a lot they can do to a person. Sometimes it leaves marks. Sometimes it doesn’t. Some things you get used to, some you don’t. Waterboarding. No marks. I hated it until someone told me the key to surviving:
Baywatch
fantasies. You knew someone was going to save you–though they never quite looked like the actresses.”

“You don’t have to make light of it.”

“Yeah, actually I do. Torture is easy to intellectualize. We all know it’s horrible, in our minds anyway, but until you know it in your gut, you’re still able to rationalize its use. You tell yourself that a terrorist is an animal, so you’re justified in treating him like an animal–even though you’d never treat an animal that way.

“But you want to know what the worst torture is? It’s the one that leaves no marks, and doesn’t treat you like an animal. It preys on your humanity. Unless you’re a stone-cold sociopath, it’ll break you.”

Her eyes grew distant. “What do they do?”

“They beat the crap out of you, then stuff you into a small box with another person. He can’t help but care for you. If he does, he gets rations. If he doesn’t, he starves. As much as he wants nothing to do with you, he has to help you for his own survival. And then they take him out and do the same thing all over again. First you’re a child, then you’re the parent.

“From then on, your buddy is a hostage.” I looked at her. “There were times when I could have escaped, but my buddy would have suffered. The time I cut that Picasso? My buddy paid because I betrayed him. When your buddy’s being tortured, you’ll be the one to sing. You’ll tell them things they could never beaten out of you.”

“A buddy betrayed you, didn’t he? That’s why trust is hard?”

I didn’t need to reply.

Selene glanced down. “They let you go because of your father?”

“I’d been used as a brake on him. When he got out of the game, there had no more use for me.”

“And your buddy?”

“Buddies.” I shrugged. “Couple of them died, one escaped. That was in Khirgizstan. It hurt. Had no way to track the others.”

She shook her head. “I can’t imagine.”

“Be thankful.” I looked up and a rerun of O’Lily had begun, featuring my father. “I gotta get a cut-off switch for that.”

“Commercial zone, never happen.” She studied my father for a moment, then smiled. “Now I understand all the different identities. You didn’t want him to find you.”

“He never invited me to Father-and-son banquets anyway, so no great loss.”

“But you were willing to take that risk for me?”

“I would have told you.”

“It’s okay.” She slipped her arms around my neck. “You’re tired, and I know a place where we can turn the Murdoch off. I don’t think you’ll want to be sleeping alone.”

“No sense in both of us losing sleep.”

She kissed me none too gently. “I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.”

Chapter Twenty-three

In the two weeks leading up to the opening of Castigan’s shop, things fell into a solid routine. Diana turned out to be a tireless worker, taking on jobs I’d thought to reserve for myself. Not only was she capable and eager, but she liked taking on tasks that gave me time to work on repairing Puma’s equipment.

I didn’t give her any set work hours, but I did insist she hit Grant’s gym and get Terry teaching her some martial arts. Diana took to it quickly and did well. She explained that Puma had taught her some self-defense when she was young. They’d even played “games” which required her to become familiar with his Cat’s-claws and other gear. He swore her to secrecy, and she was good to her word.

Within the week Vicki arrived to look Diana over. They regarded each other suspiciously. Vicki had eased up a little–I wasn’t the devil incarnate, but probably
was
a demon. Diana saw me as a savior. Vicki wondered about this girl I’d “adopted,” and it looked as if they weren’t going to get along at all.

Then Vicki showed up at one of Terry’s classes. Diana proved an even match for her. As I’d noted before, Diana was stronger than she looked, so despite being smaller than Vicki, she dropped her a couple of times.

Diana then proceeded to drop me, too, which allowed the girls to bond.

Routine can be really good. It got me into the Castigan role. I also enjoyed working on Puma’s gear. My father taught me how to kill a hero, but Puma taught me how to
be
a hero. In making sure everything worked, from the Cat-hook and Catapult system, to his rebreather and the Cat’s-eyes nightvision goggles, I repaid, in part, the debt I owed him.

I supervised the store’s final outfitting and arrangement. We had no windows, just a door with a single frosted-glass panel and bars to protect it. The only clue as to what the office was lurked on a brass plate at the panel’s lower right corner. It read, “Castigan. By Appointment Only.”

Selene and I routinely went dancing at least one night a week and reverted to sending each other puzzles. We usually saw each other three nights in the week, and talked every day–often in person. She approved of how the shop was shaping up, and began to refer customers.

As comforting as routine can be, it can make one too comfortable. I forced myself to break routine by randomly leaving the shop. I’d wander for a couple hours and come back with new eyes.
 

I always found interesting things on my sojourns. I saw a great deal and even solved a few puzzles. It really didn’t do to get too comfortable. Complacency can kill you, especially if you’re a hero.

And there was one hero who dearly needed to learn that lesson.

Kim Coughlin’s skeleton nearly jumped clear of his body when he flicked the lights on. Golden Guardian, all suited up, sat on my left. He’d kicked back in a chair, his helmet off and an unlit Cohiba tucked into the corner of his mouth. Graviton sat on my right, closing a book. Despite the darkness, he’d been reading. What little infra-vision he had left let him read the heat coming up off black ink.

I sat centered against the work-bench. “We decided to wait for you inside.”

The abandoned CRAWL station made for a great lair. Two stories tall, white tiles, a working bathroom and access to electricity the city would never miss, it was prime superhero real estate. Kim had cut his own entrance through the foundation of the apartment house above and had taking the precaution of blocking the other entrances.

He’d done a good job, which is why I’d needed help to get in.

Kim glanced at the scattered barricade by the original entrance. “How did you…”

Terry pressed the tip of the cigar to the laser projector in the palm of his glove. “Nice welding job, kid. You’ll do it better next time.”

Kim descended. A good looking kid despite his having gone pale, he took the steps carefully. “Is it really you?”

I did the honors. “Golden Guardian. Graviton. This is Kid Coyote.”

Grant smiled easily. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Me, too, kid.”

Kim raised an eyebrow. “And you’d be…”

“I’m here to collect the rent.” I looked around. “Of all my lairs, I liked this one the best.”

His jaw dropped. “What? You? I mean…”

I held up both hands. “Take it easy, Kim. Breathe. Sit down.”

“You even know who I am.” The young man dropped his gym-bag at the base of the steps, then sat. He combed brown hair back nervously, his blue-eyed gaze flicking from Graviton to Golden Guardian and back.

“Oh my God.” He shook his head. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t, you know… I mean, I can fix everything.”

“Again, take it easy. We’re not here to bust your balls.” I stood and smiled, pointing toward the armory cabinet, just past the rocket bike. “The supply is a little depleted, isn’t it?”

“I’ve been making some of my own stuff, but I haven’t had a chance to replace the motor on the lathe. It burned out a month ago, but I’ll fix it.”

Terry perked up. “You were actually turning metal on that old Hutchinson? A new Vecktech Meson-lathe 440 would do you so much better.”

“I’m saving up. Blue and I–Blue Ninja, I mean–are gonna team up some more.” Kim shook his head. “I can’t believe this. Is that really Graviton? He’s back from the other dimension? Did he win the war?”

Grant nodded confidently. “Almost finished. I’m doing a favor.”

Kid Coyote looked at me. “Why
are
you here?”

I shrugged. “Why Kid Coyote?”

He glanced down at his hands. “I grew up wanting to be a hero. There are schools, you know, but my family didn’t have money. I didn’t have grades either, but I knew I could be one. And, well, I wanted a Green Avenger franchise, but I couldn’t afford it; and all the other names were taken. I mean, no offense, but no one remembered you. I’d been to the Hall of Fame dozens of times and couldn’t find any substantial mention of you. So, I thought, maybe I’d just become Kid Coyote and if anyone minded, I’d just change. No one complained.”

My eyes narrowed. “If no one remembered me, how did you know enough to choose that name?”

Kim smiled. “I only know of you from my dad. There was a traffic accident. Drunk driver. My mom was hurt bad, and this guy tried to steal her purse. And you showed up and saved my folks.

“My father used to tell me stories about you. And I wanted to be a hero and I went to him and asked about you. Turns out he had a big scrap book and boxes of clippings. He’d even started to write a book. He thought your disappearance was the mystery of the century. He couldn’t understand how anyone could forget you.”