West Pacific Supers: Rising Tide (3 page)

There were of course
a few minor problems with the Plan. First they had to steal the QHRA, which was
only possible because Ian was the chairman of the board of the company
currently assembling it and therefore had access to information and facilities
they otherwise wouldn’t be able to easily get. Also the Plan would likely serve
as a catalyst for significant tectonic activity, a euphemism for earthquakes or
possibly even a tsunami. There was no way around this: it would cause a bit of
collateral damage to the coast of California. They also needed a sufficient
power source for the QHRA and a large number of potent deep sea charges. Then
of course they needed to be able to blame someone else for the whole thing;
they’d picked Dr. Wraith for that. He was some undead evil mastermind who
hadn’t pulled off a heist in decades but he was a classic supervillain and the
perfect scapegoat. And finally there were a lot of kinks involving securing
ownership over the newly created property, which was where Governor Fields came
into the equation. Ian was optimistic that all of these challenges could be
overcome, but the truth was that Dr. Brandeis had begun to think the Plan
wouldn’t actually work and the odds seemed even worse now that the factory had
been compromised.

“I bet this was on
the news,” said Dr. Brandeis, who felt a little guilty that he didn’t read the
paper or watch the news, but it was usually just depressing anyway.

“Yes, there was a
blurb and the Governor is aware of what happened,” said Ian.

“She’s probably
ballistic!” said Dr. Brandeis.

“True. We need to
deal with that,” Ian said; he had hardly stopped speaking when Governor Fields
herself walked in. She was a severe-looking woman who Dr. Brandeis was afraid
of because he suspected she was completely insane, though to be governor of
California that was probably a necessity.

She frowned at all
of them. “I’m not happy.”

“We have taken
precautions and should be able to complete the Plan well before anyone figures
out what we are up to,” said Ian.

“Yes, we are still
quite on schedule,” lied Dr. Brandeis.

“I doubt it,” said
the Governor. “Gentlemen, the Republic of California is in desperate need for
this to work. It is the first step to constitutional reform and bringing this
great State out of its economic troubles. This is a risk worth taking for all
of us, but mistakes like this make things more difficult.”

“We have
contingencies in place,” Ian assured her. Thankfully he didn’t go on to explain
exactly what those contingencies were; Dr. Brandeis knew that they involved
recruiting supervillains to operate in West Pacific to keep West Pacific Supers
and the WPPD occupied. The Governor might be power-hungry, but even she was
unlikely to sign off on that idea.

It was best not to
give her a chance to ask questions. “We’re working to get ahead of schedule,”
Dr. Brandeis lied again.

“Perhaps you can
provide some assistance on this matter, as well as tie up West Pacific Supers
and the WPPD,” said Ian.

“That’s the entire
issue, isn’t it?” snapped the Governor. “Due to the damn ballot initiatives
forced on California by the mindless electorate I can’t even blow my nose
without running afoul of some god damn moronic restriction. The whole point of
the Plan is to create an opportunity for reform.”

“That is true,” said
Ian in his sympathetic voice. “Maybe you could involve West Pacific Supers in
some program to save whales or talk to elementary students.”

“Alright,” the
Governor said with another frown. “I’ll see what I can do to distract your
local supers and police. But the Plan must continue moving forward. I need this
to happen well before the primary.”

“Of course,” said
Dr. Brandeis. “In a month I think we’ll have a more positive report on the
status of things.”

“You’d better,” said
the Governor. “I’m giving you three months to execute the Plan. After this
fiasco we can’t wait any longer than that. This is a fixed deadline and the
results for noncompliance will be severe.”

“I understand, Governor,”
said Ian. Governor Fields nodded, glared at Dr. Brandeis, and then left the
room with Ian following, leaving Erica and Dr. Brandeis alone in the study.

“This isn’t going to
work,” muttered Dr. Brandeis.

“Probably not, but
that’s why I always get paid up front,” said Erica.

“Most of my cut is
performance-based; you know, how many acres we raise from the sea.” Dr.
Brandeis felt miserable. “West Pacific Supers is going to track us down, aren’t
they?”

“Most likely but not
for the next few weeks,” said Erica. “They have the Super Draft and pre-Season
activities to tie them up for a while. Barring a lucky break, my guess is that
they’ll probably foil the Plan in under a month.”

“So shouldn’t we
abort the Plan?” asked Dr. Brandeis.

“Why?” Erica looked
amused. “Noah, it’s not the heist but the build-up to the heist that’s where
the fun is to be had. Enjoy the ride and have an escape plan. I know you’ve
been paid a good amount of money upfront and if you’re smart you have that
squirreled away. Plus we could always be the ones to get a lucky break.”

“You’re awfully
positive about all this,” said Dr. Brandeis glumly.

Erica gave him a
wicked smile. “The game has finally begun! The supers are on the hunt – this is
when things get exciting.”

Dr. Brandeis just
shook his head. There was no doubt about it – he was surrounded by lunatics.

11:27 a.m.,
Sunday, March 24th, 2013
Hyatt Regency Milwaukee
Milwaukee
, WI

There
were three kinds of people in the world: normal humans, normal-looking mutants,
and obvious mutants. Seawolf, veteran team member of West Pacific Supers and
clearly an obvious mutant, was having a bad fur day.

She stood in the
bathroom of the suite she was sharing with Gabrielle Fox, the team’s public
affairs director, and tried to untangle the brush stuck in her neck fur. She
had forgotten to pack her own brush and had to borrow Gabrielle’s and now the
damn thing was stuck. If she pulled too hard, she’d end up with a bare patch,
but if she didn’t hurry up, Gabrielle was going to get even more upset than she
already was.

This lunch was the
only scheduled activity for the week that Seawolf had been looking forward to,
but now she found herself dreading it. The only reason she’d even agreed to be
part of the West Pacific Supers contingent to the Super Draft was because being
in Milwaukee was preferable to being back home getting ready for the
publicity-fest that was the upcoming Costume Launch. She’d been through enough
of those in her 13 years on the team to know that some of the worst Costume Launches
were during years in which you had a new public affairs director trying to make
her mark, like Gabrielle. Gabrielle had been with the team in some staff PR
capacity for a couple of years now, but once she’d finally finished her MBA
night classes, she’d been promoted. This new Costume Launch was her baby - from
the new European costume designer to the state-of-the-art ultimesh weave.
Seawolf had heard every dull detail three times over during the flight from
West Pacific to Milwaukee, complete with a nonstop display of photos on
Gabrielle’s HoloBerry.

“If you don’t hurry
up, I’m going to be late.” Gabrielle, a normal human with the sort of
effortless beauty that Seawolf found downright maddening, walked into the
bathroom wearing a pale blue dress that hugged her every curve and perfectly
accompanied her silky black hair and smooth caramel-colored skin.

“It’s stuck,”
Seawolf said, gesturing at the brush.

Gabrielle rolled her
eyes. “Pull it out – break it if you have to; I’ll buy a new one. You need to speed
things up. The sponsor lunch begins in 43 minutes and I sure as hell am not
going to arrive late and miss the chance to snag a seat next to the
Moirai
Media rep.”

“I can take my own
cab,” Seawolf protested.

“We’re sharing one
so that you get there on time. Danny has the opening ceremonies tonight, which
means a ton of interviews this afternoon, so you can’t take forever. And why
are you wearing your old team costume?”

“Because you said I
couldn’t wear the new one.”

“Not until the new
one’s officially unveiled, true. But this is a casual lunch. Why wear a costume
at all? It’s not like you have a secret identity.”

“For casual I wear
wetsuits,” snapped Seawolf. “Or would you have preferred me in
lycra
shorts and a rash guard top?”

“
Waverider
may be your primary sponsor, but it’s taking brand loyalty a bit far to only
wear swimwear.”

“I’ve only worn
swimwear for the last 20 years.
Waverider
just pays
me to do it.”

“Whatever.”
Gabrielle’s HoloBerry rang and she stalked out of the bathroom, calling back as
she left, “hurry up!”

Seawolf yanked,
pulling out the brush and a chunk of fur with it. She peered into the mirror,
trying to assess the damage and make an honest appraisal of herself. Her face
and neck looked normal except for the fact that they were covered with grey
fur, her ears were wolf-like, and her teeth were a bit more pointed than most
people’s. Pale green scales took over where the fur left off and her fingers
were noticeably webbed. Her eyes were an almost pretty shade of blue-green, but
that was because they were blue underneath and green when the second membrane
covered them, which was certainly not normal. She sighed. Even on a good fur
day, she still looked like a freak.

She pressed some fur
down to cover the small bald spot on her neck, straightened her costume, and
reluctantly walked out into the living room, where Gabrielle was talking on the
phone while strapping on a pair of ivory heels that accentuated her long,
slender legs. Seawolf grumbled to herself as she sat down and began shoving her
own webbed feet into a pair of large black boots. They had been specially made
for her since she simply could not wear normal shoes. She preferred to go
barefoot whenever she could but that wasn’t an option here. A real restaurant
wouldn’t let her in without shoes, not to mention that early spring in
Wisconsin was ridiculously cold.

“I don’t see why
you’re making me do this,” she muttered to Gabrielle when she hung up.

“Do what? Take Danny
Chase out to lunch? Because you’re the one who wants the team to hire her and
because you’re the one that she specifically requested! Jesus, Seawolf, stop
making a capital case out of this. It’s just lunch, for Christ’s sake.”

Seawolf glared at
her. “You could at least try to be pleasant,” she growled.

Gabrielle laughed.
“Yeah, you’re one to talk. You bitched the whole way here from California.
Seriously, I’m organizing all the last-minute details for the Costume Launch
from halfway across the country and you’re freaking out over having lunch with
a super teen?”

“A Costume Launch is
the worst sort of publicity event – all fluff and no substance,” Seawolf said
peevishly.

“Whatever,”
Gabrielle said, sounding annoyed. “Just because you don’t appreciate the new
design… ”

“Why even change
things in the first place? There’s nothing wrong with the old costume!”

Gabrielle stared at
her for a moment. “You are so – so, oh I don’t know – quaint? Anyway, you know
you’re meeting her at the
Taj
Mahal
,
right? According to
Superlative
,
Danny loves Indian food. What? What’s wrong now?”

“I hate spicy food!
I have superior senses. Strong spices screw them up. You should know that.”

“It’s one meal,”
said Gabrielle dismissively. “In the interest of making a good impression on
someone who might be your future team member, you can handle one meal. God, I
thought you liked Danny Chase. You’ve been her strongest supporter in every
Super Draft meeting we’ve had over the last four months! I thought you’d be
thrilled to meet her in person.”

“It’s not that,”
said Seawolf. Her unhappiness had nothing to do with Danny Chase. She had
spoken several times with Danny and the girl had been eager and respectful.
Seawolf was genuinely excited about having her on the team. But meeting her
like this – in an Indian restaurant in the heart of Milwaukee? There was no way
she could explain how stressed she got at the thought of going out to eat.
Putting herself on display in a public forum was one thing if heroics were
concerned, but going to a restaurant was just hell. There would be the
inevitable stares and whispered comments and the most heroic thing she could do
was to finish her meal without throwing up. She felt like throwing up now.

“Anyway,” Gabrielle
continued, snapping her purse shut and standing up, “it’s too late to change
the reservations now. Come on. We’re running behind. Have I mentioned that the
sponsors luncheon begins in less than 30 minutes?”

“So what?” snarled
Seawolf. “I’m a superhero, not a public relations lackey.”

Gabrielle stopped
dead and stared at Seawolf with venom in her eyes. “Perhaps you need remedial
lessons in superhero economics,” she said through gritted teeth. “Last year,
the Governing Board approved a $159.2 million budget for the team, but the team
then went on to pull in $172 million from endorsements, merchandising, paid public
appearances, and other PR events, all arranged by the team’s ‘public relations
lackeys’
.
You
know those little things that make your job easier – let’s say for instance
like ultimesh to keep you safe, and
HoloBerrys
to
keep you connected, and airplanes to get you around, and an operations director
to tell you what to do, and a training staff to keep you in shape, and a big
shiny headquarters building to have a nice office in? SPONSORS AND PUBLIC
RELATIONS LACKEYS MAKE ALL THAT HAPPEN! So shut up and get moving.”

Seawolf stomped out
after Gabrielle, feeling even more freakish than usual in the wake of her
glamorous companion. “We could have met her in the team box,” she suggested
when they got in the elevator.

“Get over it
already! You want to meet our potential Draft pick in the team box? What would
you feed her - chips and cheese dip? You might as well accept the fact that
you’re going. Believe me, you’re not the only one suffering. Last night at the
mix-and-mingle that bastard from Super Carnage Inc. thought he could paw all
over me just because his company produces
West
Coast v. East Coast
. I tell you, if it weren’t for the fact that
they’ve got the most successful line of superhero video games in the country, I
would’ve… ” Gabrielle’s HoloBerry rang. She picked it up and launched into an
angry discussion about the team lineup for the Costume Launch. “And one more
thing,” she yelled as the elevator stopped to admit some hapless hotel guests,
“you tell Keystone that he needs to be at the Launch or he can kiss his
renegotiation goodbye!”

Seawolf frowned,
trying to ignore the small child gripping her mother’s hand and gaping up in
openmouthed wonder. Gabrielle was notoriously short-tempered, but this trip she
had been particularly on edge. Admittedly, there was a lot to stress her at the
moment. There was the Super Draft itself and associated publicity events and if
the Costume Launch back home was a flop, everyone would blame Gabrielle, and
the press here would have a field day. But the real problem was that one of her
team mates, Keystone, had recently announced that he intended to sit out all
publicity events and possibly even the Season if the team didn’t agree to his
contract renegotiation demands. That threw Gabrielle’s perfectly orchestrated
Costume Launch into jeopardy and made her even more unbearable.

“Finally,” said
Gabrielle as the elevator doors opened at the lobby. She strode off ahead of
the cringing family and Seawolf struggled to keep up, already wincing from the
discomfort of the boots. She hated wearing shoes.

“Now remember,”
Gabrielle told her when they got into the taxi, “play up the team but don’t
oversell our financial status. We want her to be excited to come on board but
not rake us over the coals when it comes to salary.”

Seawolf nodded and
started to say something but Gabrielle cut her off. “Though if Keystone really
does sit out the Season, Neo-Mermaid is not our best pick. Sure, the NMX power
armor packs a pretty punch, but it’s water-based and… ”

“The team voted for
Neo-Mermaid,” Seawolf said testily. “The whole reason that I’m taking Danny out
to lunch is because we’re going to bring her on the team.”

“The team
technically
voted for
her, but Mr. Awesome, who is, after all, the team leader, voted against her,
Dr. Sterling, who, might I remind you, is the operations director, stated her
disapproval, and Dr. Hodges abstained. Plus White Knight voted against her, and
he certainly knows power armor. So in my opinion, it’s still something of an
open issue.”

“You’ve got to be
kidding!” Seawolf was starting to get angry. “The vote was four-to-two among
the team members and Dr. Hodges stated his approval for whoever I picked.”

Gabrielle shrugged.
“True, but still. Mr. Awesome and Dr. Sterling made a pretty good case for why
we need to bring on someone with some speed. Thank God though we didn’t go the
wizard route that Meltdown was pushing for.” She shuddered. “At least
Danny’ll
be a strong PR asset. Teen Orlando knows how to
train their kids to handle the superazzi and fans. I won’t need to do much work
there. And she brings over a good set of sponsors, which helps the team out
financially.”

Seawolf rolled her
eyes. The fact that Gabrielle could deride Danny’s super abilities in one
breath and then praise her publicity credentials in the next struck her as
having totally misplaced priorities.

“And another thing,”
Gabrielle continued. “See if you can get a straight answer about the origin of
her power armor suit. The Orlando Sparkle puts out this fairy tale crap about
how when Danny was young, she saved the life of some dolphin and then a mermaid
showed up to give her the NMX as a reward. Do they even have dolphins in
Alabama?”

“Mississippi.”

“Whatever. If
mermaids handed out power armor suits to everyone who saved a whale, then
Greenpeace would be going around with aircraft carriers. The point I’m trying
to make is that if it’s actually alien tech or on loan from Argos Corp, we need
to know before she joins the team and someone sues us for royalties or some
such bullshit. Speaking of which, when was the last time you tried to get a new
endorsement?”

“We’re not talking
about me,” Seawolf growled.

“We are now. How
long have you been with
Waverider
?”