Paranormals (Book 2): We Are Not Alone (15 page)

What if, because of this lack of change, he couldn’t
get
sick, ever again?

What if he wouldn’t even age?

What if he was
immortal
?

“Lincoln!”

Lincoln jolted out of his reverie. He called back to the kitchen, “Wh–What, Tommy?”

“I said I need help with my math! C’mon, Linc, I can’t wait forever! Jeez!”

Tommy’s unfortunately-timed choice of words gave Lincoln a chill, but he tried his best to shake it off as he got up to go help his little brother ...

... his little brother and sister whom, he secretly feared, he might have to watch grow old and die.

VORTEX AND SHINING STAR

At dusk, Steve, a giddy grin plastered on his face, paced outside the training center where he had asked Shining Star to return; as he bounced about on the balls of his tennis shoed feet, he watched the sunset, and it occurred to him that he had gotten so used to his cybernetic eyes, he couldn’t recall anymore how sunsets had looked to his birth eyes. Had the colors been the same? More vibrant? Less so? He honestly didn’t remember.

But this was merely an attempt to distract himself, to deflect his impatience for Callin’s arrival; most of his attention was on the darkening sky above, searching for any flicker of light that might indicate his potential pupil had returned.

Easy, Steve. Don’t get ahead of yourself. What if you misunderstood him? He was using a translator that wasn’t exactly one hundred percent accurate. And his departure was a little abrupt.

He tried not to think about that — he wanted, really
wanted
this to work out as he’d fantasized. He wiped his sweaty palms across the thighs of his jeans and paced some more.

The training center’s nearest door opened, and Alan emerged just as he ended a cell phone call. Although his attitude wasn’t exactly dripping with enthusiasm, Alan assured Steve, “Okay, I’ve passed the word around one more time, so we should be covered for tonight.”

It had turned out that, while Shining Star’s glowing arrival the evening before had slipped by unobserved, his glowing
departure
had not escaped notice — after two guards called it in, they had issued a yellow alert across the grounds not one minute after Callin’s light trail faded from sight. Alan and Ardette had covered things quickly, claiming that they had been experimenting with a “promising new particle weapon,” and apologized for not informing the security staff in advance that they would be test-firing a proto-cannon with such a bright backwash. This afternoon, Alan had made a special point of informing the head of security that they would most likely be testing it again this evening, so they should not be overly concerned with any “flashes of silver light” they might see in the sky tonight.

“Let’s just hope,” Alan warned with a put-upon sigh, “that no glowing paranormal terrorists choose
this
particular night to attack us.”

Steve knew that Alan was only partly kidding, but he chose to laugh it off. And it was easy to do, because he’d been close to giddy all day; he hadn’t been in this good of a mood in a long time.

Alan echoed the sentiment by observing, “I see you’re still a happy camper.”

Steve laughed again. “Alan,
this
is the sort of thing I’ve been hoping, almost praying for since I first put on my Vortex uniform: A paranormal, probably a Class One, wants to follow my example and become a superhero instead of a rogue! How can I
not
 be in a good mood?”

Alan nodded in acknowledgment, but commented, “I’m surprised you’re not wearing your costu— excuse me, your uniform tonight. Shouldn’t you approach this
as
 Vortex?”

Steve shrugged, his eyes never leaving the sky. “I thought about that, but I figured, since Shining Star’s already seen my face, what difference does it make? And if security does happen to stumble across Shining Star tonight, at least we’d only have
one
problem to address — Vortex has been seen on and around
Davison Electronics
property a little too often over the past year, so why beg any more trouble?” He snorted. “Let me tell you, ‘secret identities’ are a lot less secure than they seemed in comic books. I’m guessing I should avoid providing any armchair detectives on the staff with any more circumstantial evidence. Am I right?”

Alan half-grunted. “Forget suspicious staffers. I’m still not happy that this Callin boy, whom we know nothing about, already knows so much about you.”

Steve sighed. “Yeah ... I agree with you on that. I wish I’d met Callin while I was
out
somewhere as Vortex, instead of in my own backyard. But ...” He threw his hands up. “... what’s done is done, I guess. Think of it this way: The more we learn about Shining Star tonight, the more it will help level the playing field. Right?”

Alan opened his mouth to reply, but a flicker of light from above distracted both of them. Instead, he said, “There’s your new friend now, I think.” He started backing toward the training center. “I’ll let Ardette know our guest has arrived. Unless you want me to wait with you?”

“No, thanks. I’ll be fine. We’ll join you shortly.”

Alan half-grunted as he trotted for the training center door.

Now that Alan was gone and his enhanced eyes could clearly make out Shining Star’s rapid approach, Steve found himself unexpectedly nervous. Occasional doubts aside, he’d spent the past twenty-four hours more excited than anything else, eager to the point that he’d had trouble sleeping last night ... but now butterflies swarmed in his stomach, and he wasn’t entirely sure why. He didn’t feel like he was in any “danger” — no tingling of the spider-sense; no disturbance of the Force — it was just, sort of ... well, the jitters.

I feel like I’m about to meet a blind date or something. How lame is that?

How would you know?
asked an inner voice that sounded suspiciously like his older brother, Jonathan.
When was the last time you went on a date?

Shut up,
he replied with a smile, not realizing that it was the first time he’d thought about his absent brother without experiencing a familiar twinge of pain.

Shining Star zoomed down toward him like a silent comet, not slowing his approach until the last possible moment, then touching down so gently that his dark silver boots barely made any noise.

No wonder I didn’t hear him last night!

Taking the initiative, Steve smiled and said, “Hello again, Shining Star.”

Shining Star answered, “Hello,” his words still out of sync with his lips. He cocked his head to one side and looked Steve up and down. “You are not to wear your cape tonight.”

Aw, crap
, Steve thought,
Alan was right. I should’ve done this as Vortex.
He said, “Uh ... no, I’m not. I, uh ...” What had rolled off the tongue so easily with Alan now sputtered out in a slow, clumsy drip. “I just figured ... well, you already know who I, so, um ... you know ...”

“You brought it under the coat when last night we met. But now you aren’t to wear it at all. Makes your cape ...?” Callin hesitated before backing up and rephrasing, “Does not your cape has a special meaning?”

Not sure where this was going, Steve answered, “Well ... yeah, it does, actually. It projects a sort of, you know, dramatic flare, an iconic panache and mystique—” He caught himself, remembering that his guest, translator or not, lacked a full command of English. He simplified it to, “It projects an image that I hope excites people.”

Shining Star did his sort-of-nod thing. “I see.” But he seemed vaguely disappointed and pensive now, though that super-dark mask of his made it hard to tell for sure.

Wanting to fill the awkward silence, Steve pointed and said truthfully, “Your cape looks awesome, by the way. Does
your
cape have a special meaning? I mean, beyond being a part of your uniform?”

Shining Star remained quiet long enough for Steve to wonder if he hadn’t understood the question, but then he said, “To us ... where I’m from, a cape symbols regal distinction. I wear my cape recall this, and other things.” He offered a slight smile and added, “Besides to be part of my uniform.”

“Ah.” Steve nodded, though he wasn’t sure he followed all of that or how much meaning was lost in the translation. Were there parts of Russia where the higher-ups still wore capes? Was this guy descended from royalty?

“Why don’t you come inside with me?” he invited — if nothing else, Alan and Ardette would provide two more sets of ears for Callin’s broken English. He stepped toward the training center with a “come along” gesture.

Shining Star hesitated, and even shifted his weight away; for a second, it looked like he might fly off instead. But then, to Steve’s relief, he semi-nodded and followed.

This sense of reluctance from Shining Star had Steve worried. If he only could’ve known how much not wearing his uniform tonight was dropping the ball.

Talk about your
D’oh!
decisions. This sucks ...

They entered the training center across from the control area, and Steve offered a quick, “You remember Alan and Ardette from last night?” as they crossed the open room.

“He’s so young,” Ardette whispered to Alan as they approached. Alan and Ardette both offered Shining Star a brief but friendly greeting, and he returned the same, craning his head forward in what looked like a cross between his semi-nod and a head bow.

Ardette then added, “Would you prefer we address you as ‘Shining Star’ or ‘Callin’?”

Their guest considered, then answered, “Callin less formal. I do not want make any discomfort, so please, call me Callin.”

Ardette smiled. “Callin it is,” she said, making sure to pronounce it with the appropriate accent. “Would you like anything to eat? To drink?”

Callin appeared caught off-guard by this offer, but before Ardette could feel too abashed, he replied, “If you have simple vegetable, then that would be very appreciated. Thank you. And ... water?”

“I believe I have some carrot sticks in the mini-fridge,” she said, and walked away to retrieve them.

Alan stepped forward, more relaxed than before, and the reason why was evident to Steve as soon as he spoke: Technology.

“Callin,” he said, pointing to the device attached to Callin’s collar, “we can’t help but notice that you’re using a translator. I’ve seen some prototypes for this sort of tech before, but to have it working in
real time
like this? That’s truly amazing.” For a moment, it looked as though he might reach right out and touch it, but he caught himself and settled for pointing at it again. “If you don’t mind my asking ... where did you get it? You didn’t build it yourself, did you?”

Fingering the device below his throat, Callin answered, “No, I did not build it.” He hesitated, then added, “I’m afraid I cannot tell to where I got it. It’s ...” He paused again, and when he finished his sentence, his pitch went up, as though he were uncertain what he was saying would translate correctly. “... classified?”

Steve and Alan both nodded; everyone in this room appreciated technology being classified. Alan assured him, “I understand. I guess I won’t ask if I can examine it then.”

Steve made sure to chuckle, hoping this would help Callin understand that Alan was making a joke. Callin did his thin smile, showing he got it.

Ardette returned with a plastic tub of carrot sticks and an open bottle of water. She gestured with the bottle to make sure Callin saw it, placing it on the work table beside him; she handed the tub of carrots directly to him, saying, “Feel free to take off your mask, if you’re comfortable.”

“Thank you, yes.” Callin removed the pliable eyepiece with one gloved hand — again exposing his striking silver eyes, and without at all mussing his strange thin-but-thick hair — and tucked it into his dark-silver belt. He picked out one of the carrot sticks, stared at it for a moment, gave it a quick sniff, then took a bite. It agreed with him, and he again said, “Thank you.”

Huh,
Steve thought.
You’d think he’d never seen a carrot before.

Determined to take control of this meet-and-greet once and for all, Steve lowered himself onto a stool next to the work table, and indicated for Callin to do the same. Alan and Ardette moved around to the other side of the table, but remained standing.

Flipping his silver cape back with a somewhat grand (and presumably practiced) move, Callin sat next to Steve even as he continued to munch periodically on the carrots.

“Okay, Callin,” Steve began in what he hoped was a mentor-ish tone of voice. “What we know so far is: You’ve gone paranormal, you saw me in a fight and followed me here, and you want to learn about being a superhero. I guess the natural next questions would be, what can you do? What powers did you get from the Paranormal Effect, and how long have you had them?”

Callin took a sip of water, then said, “I understand that you need knowledge of these things, and I’ll tell you the rudiments. But I hope understanding that if I choose to keep some secrets to themselves.”

The end got a little choppy to Steve’s ears, so he clarified, “You want to hold some things back, keep them to yourself. Right?”

Callin semi-nodded. “Yes. A few. At this time.”

Steve’s first impulse was that the “secrets” bar was a little too lopsided for his taste, and he knew Alan was thinking the same thing. But there wasn’t much he could do to force the issue, so for diplomacy’s sake, he opted to say, “Fair enough, for now.”

Callin swallowed, pulled out another carrot but held onto this one as he said, “The Paranormal influence gave me specialty to defy gravity, superordinate strength and durability, and I can rein in the energy project, similar to a plasma from stars.”

Steve whistled — some paranormals were strong, like Powerhouse, and some could fly, but rarely did the two mix into the same person. But “rein in the energy” ...?

“So,” Steve clarified, “you can fly, you’re strong and you’re tough. And you can ... absorb energy? From the sun?”