West Pacific Supers: Rising Tide (5 page)

“No, not really,”
Danny said with a nervous laugh. They ate in silence for a few minutes.

“So what’s it like
to live in West Pacific?” Danny finally asked.

“Wet,” said Seawolf.
“They call us the Seattle of California, though we get twice as much rain as
Seattle does. October to March is the worst of it. Of course, since the
Supercrime Season runs from May to September, it’s not too bad. A hell of a lot
better than March in Milwaukee,” she added as an afterthought. Last night she’d
gotten stuck talking to Breakwater, who had been traded from Savannah to
Minneapolis in the middle of winter and kept going on about some sort of “lake
breeze” that supposedly moderated the surrounding climate. It was 25 freaking
degrees last night! She shivered just thinking about it.

“West Pacific’s one
of the New Tomorrow cities, right?”

Seawolf nodded.
“Yes. West Pacific was laid out and built on the ashes of a town in Northern
California that the Vanghel used as a staging base when they invaded in ‘73.
Just like they did with
Cosmopolis
, though West
Pacific has a much more beautiful location, right on the Pacific. The old
breakfronts are about all that’s left of the original town, though the harbor
has been significantly expanded.”

“Do you guys get a
lot of water action?”

“Enough to keep me
busy. West Pacific does a booming trade with the Pacific Rim and a lot of
that’s by ship so you’ve always got to keep an eye out for Celestials sneaking
in. Plus the coastal location of the city makes her a prime target for
water-based supervillains. The Coast Guard put up a small boat station about a
decade ago and I work closely with them. The current liaison’s real good about
informing us right when they find out about something. It’s really helped to
have the extra set of eyes and ears out there.”

“Do you do any land
operations?”

Seawolf shrugged.
“Not as much as Annie would like. Starfish is the other water-friendly mutant
on the team, but he actually prefers ground pounding. He’ll help out whenever
there’s a water crisis, of course, but I’m primary on water. You’ll be helping
me out on that angle though.” She gave a crooked smile and Danny grinned back.

“I sure hope so. I
can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to working with you. It’s like a
childhood dream come true.”

Seawolf nodded,
uncomfortable with the girl’s praise. The team was in more of a transition
phase than she’d let on; the fact of the matter was that in a couple of years
she was going to retire. Professional supers rarely managed to stay on top-tier
teams past the age of 40, especially in the case of brawlers like Seawolf.
Someone with energy expulsion could make it longer, but even then the work took
its toll. Sure, she could try to move to a smaller team or join up with the
Portland Legends, but that would mean leaving West Pacific and she couldn’t
imagine doing that. Leaving the team would be hard enough. Danny was her
hand-picked replacement, the future of West Pacific Supers.

The girl was still
smiling at her in a way that approached hero-worship. Truth be told, it was
kind of nice to have someone look at her that way rather than as a mutant
freak.

“Tell me about the
time you fought Typhoon.”

Seawolf was
surprised. She hadn’t thought about that battle in years. “Typhoon was a real
pain in the ass. He’s got wind and water control – similar
powerset
to Whirlpool of the
Stormfront
team. He was holding a
cruise ship for ransom and no one could get near him. Nova Girl flew in and he
tossed her around like dry leaves in a tornado.” She smiled, relishing the
memory. “I approached underwater while the others kept him occupied. Once I got
a hold of him, though, it was all over. He could put on a good show, but he
wasn’t much of a brawler. He’s still in Yucca Mountain, I think. Of course, if
you want to hear about a real fight, you should ask me about Captain Caecilian
– but you should know better than to get a super started on war stories.”

Danny laughed. “Are
you kidding? War stories are the best!”

Seawolf smiled. With
someone like Danny to mentor, the upcoming Season wasn’t sounding so bad.

7:17 p.m.,
Sunday, March 24th, 2013

Bradley
Arena

Milwaukee,
WI

Cosmic
Kid took a can of A-Cola from the limousine’s mini-fridge and handed it across
to his father, John Minor. The limousine was part of a line waiting to unload
for the opening ceremonies of the 2013 Super Draft. They were pretty far back
in the queue and the line was barely moving, but every foot closer deepened the
pit in his stomach. The super teens ahead exited their limousines and posed for
pictures, fielded questions from the superazzi, and interacted with the
gathered fans. It was a circus, and most of the super teens were savoring the
moment and working the crowd, which was throwing the whole schedule out of
whack. Cosmic Kid didn’t fault them though, especially as he intended to ham it
up as well; it was all part of the job and if the Super Channel hadn’t factored
that in, well, that was their problem, though if his nerves didn’t settle down
he might speed up his own entrance.

“Thanks,” said John
as he popped open the soda and took a drink. “I was so worried about having to
pee I think I dehydrated myself… Wow, this is sweet!”

“It’s carbonated,
concentrated agave nectar,” said Cosmic Kid. He was looking forward to getting
to the big leagues and being able to attract sponsors like
Dr
Pepper. In the meantime though, he had to take what he could get and brand
loyalty was part of the package. “They do have bathrooms here, Dad,” he added
with a smile. He was glad his father had agreed to come to the Super Draft.

“I don’t want to
miss anything! Though I’m still a little unsure about what’s happening tonight
– this is just a publicity event, right?”

“Yes, lots of
pictures, a few fluff interviews, a silly parade, and then a concert,” said
Cosmic Kid’s agent Stephen Murray, not bothering to look up from his HoloBerry.
“It’s tacky as hell, but it gets good ratings.”

“So no competitions
or power trials?” asked John.

“Yup, the exciting
stuff takes place over the next few days before the actual Super Draft on
Saturday,” said Cosmic Kid, adjusting his ultimesh costume a little. It was
dark maroon with gold and black highlights and was perfect for heroics, but not
the most comfortable for sitting in a limousine for over an hour.

“Good way to start.
You’re a natural with this stuff,” said John proudly.

“I guess,” said
Cosmic Kid grimly. A month ago he would have rode into Milwaukee cocky and
confident, but it had been a rough month. He had faced off against Seneschal X,
one of the worst supervillains out there, and it hadn’t gone well, though super
teens weren’t supposed to face off against supervillains. People had died and
Seneschal X had escaped. Since then nothing had gone right for him.

“So is everyone here
from teen teams?” asked John.

“Mostly,” said
Cosmic Kid. “Each teen team can send up to two supers who are 18 or older, like
me, and then the League holds open tryouts to add additional draftees. The
Super Draft is the only way someone under 21 can join a League team, and really
teams don’t hire anyone under 25 unless they go through the Draft. This year
there are 32 teams in the first round, and 15 in the second round, with 68
super teens fighting for one of the 47 spots.”

“And the higher the
pick, the more money you make?” asked John.

“Not necessarily,”
said Stephen, looking up as money was mentioned. “When a team has a pick they
make an offer to a super and that super can say yea or nay. When a team
announces a pick, they may have gone through a few supers, ‘til they found one
who would take them. That’s especially true for bottom-tier teams with high
picks; they just can’t pay top dollar for the best super teens.”

“You’re top-tiered,”
said John.

“Supposedly. I’ll
probably be picked in the top ten and make $5 million a year,” added Cosmic
Kid. “So if a team with a high pick wants me, they have to be able to afford
me. For some teams $5 million is more than they spend on their entire team
salary. Of course, if none of the top-tier teams want me, then I might have to
drop my salary and go to Wichita or Burlington.”

“Not happening,”
said Stephen decisively. “You’re going at #3, Tampa Bay wants you, and we’ll be
aiming for a salary closer to $10 million.”

“It’s incredible
when you think about it. You’ll make more in a year than I will in a lifetime
with Cosmic Burger, probably five lifetimes,” said John with a chuckle.

“Yeah, I guess
that’s true,” said Cosmic Kid guiltily.

“Relax, Patrick, I
manage a fast-food restaurant and you save the world – you don’t need super
powers to flip burgers.”

“If someone is
willing to pay you an outrageous salary, then you deserve that outrageous
salary – super powers or not,” said Stephen.

“Fools and their
money, right?” said John.

“No, it’s capitalism
at its best,” said Stephen. “Cosmic Kid will get a big payout because he has
the skills to be a successful superhero. He also has a strong fan base and
handles publicity well. He’s the complete deal and teams value that, because
they get someone who makes their team more effective and profitable. From
sponsorships and merchandising, the team that signs Cosmic Kid will get three
to five times their investment, just in the first year.”

“I guess, but it is
a lot of money,” said Cosmic Kid. “I often think about how many police officers
my salary would pay for – two hundred, three hundred. I may be good, but I know
I’m not worth hundreds of police officers.”

“The team is
separate from the city, so it’s apples and oranges,” said Stephen. “The police
are great, but when it comes to supervillains or alien invasions it’s the
supers who save the day and you can’t put a price tag on that.”

“Sure you can, I
hear it’s $10 million,” quipped John. “Honestly, Patrick, you deserve the
money. You’ve worked hard with Teen Ultimate and are a natural at being a
superhero. Your mother would be very proud of you, and she would tell you to
have Stephen rake them over the coals to get as much money as possible. At the
least, we need to support Stephen’s extravagant lifestyle.”

“Dad, don’t pick on
poor Stephen,” said Cosmic Kid with a smile.

“Mr. Minor, my
commission is based on results,” said Stephen. “If you let me renegotiate your
contract with Cosmic Burger, I could get you a 50-percent raise.”

“Fast food managers
don’t have agents,” chuckled Mr. Minor.

“And that’s why they
don’t make $10 million,” said Stephen, returning his attention to his
HoloBerry. The three of them fell silent again and waited for the limousine to
move closer to the front entrance. The Bradley Arena loomed over them and they
were closing in steadily on the end of the line.

“What do you think
Mom would say to me right now?” asked Cosmic Kid, breaking the silence.

John looked out the
window thoughtfully and smiled. “She would say ‘whatever the hell you do in
life, don’t slip on the ice when you get out of the limo’.”

Stephen looked out
the window and nodded, “your mom has a point.”

“That’s how you get
into the news cycle,” said Cosmic Kid with a laugh.

“You say that now,
but it’s not what we want up on YouTube for the world to see,” said Stephen.

“It’s not the fall,
but how you get up that matters. If I fall, I get up, laugh, and toss out some
quip, like ‘I can now confirm that gravity is the same in Milwaukee as
Cosmopolis
’. Everyone laughs at the lame joke and all is
well,” said Cosmic Kid.

“I guess, but let’s
not fall,” said Stephen.

“Sure thing.” Cosmic
Kid looked outside at the approaching entrance, the crowds of fans, and
swarming superazzi. From the limousine in front of them a thin young woman with
pale skin and a black flowing costume exited. “Epiphany’s getting out ahead of
us.”

“Epiphany… ,” said
Stephen checking his HoloBerry which was projecting a holographic screen only
visible to Stephen at this angle, but Cosmic Kid could imagine how it was
configured to display all the key draftees. “She is out of Houston’s teen team,
a psychic, pretty powerful, projected to go at #9 to Baltimore,” said Stephen,
who sounded pleased with himself.

“Yes, she also loves
lilies, has three poodles named after characters from Shakespeare plays, is a
member of PETA, and her big vice is donuts, but that’s the same vice for all
psychics,” said Cosmic Kid coolly.

“How do you know
this stuff?” asked Stephen incredulously.

“
Superlative
magazine has
run several articles about all the draftees the last few months.”

“Oh, yeah, I think I
saw that,” mumbled Stephen. “Have you met her before?”

“No, well, I talked
to her like 30 seconds at a Super Teen United event last year, we were raising
money to fight world hunger, but we didn’t really hit it off.”

“Psychics like
donuts?” asked John.

“Yeah, supposedly
the fat in them or something agitates brain cells tied to psychic powers. You
put a box of donuts in front of a psychic and they just can’t stop,” said
Cosmic Kid.

“You’re kidding,”
said John.

“No, completely
serious, psychics love donuts – it’s weird.”

He turned his
attention to Epiphany and saw that she was struggling. She looked wooden and
agitated with the superazzi and fans. He realized quickly what the problem was:
she was being overloaded by the mental energy. Psychics didn’t like crowds.
You’re doing great
, he
thought. He figured he might as well try to add a positive thought to the
mental noise, though he doubted she would pick it up. Etiquette dictated that
they wait to unload until Epiphany disengaged from the crowd and started
heading into the building, but he could see the superazzi smelled blood and
were pressuring her with questions and more pictures of her dazed look. It was
unfair, but this was the superazzi and it was their job.

“Let’s get out now,”
said Cosmic Kid.

“Okay,” said Stephen
cautiously as he started collecting the papers he had piled on the empty seat
across from him. Stephen tapped on the glass to notify Isaac, Cosmic Kid’s new,
and hapless, assistant sitting up in the driver’s section, to get the door.

“Time to get this
show on the road!” said Cosmic Kid. Stephen was the first to exit and then Cosmic
Kid and his dad followed him out with Isaac. Like a swarm of piranha, the
superazzi turned from Epiphany and focused on Cosmic Kid. He was hit by a wave
of camera flashes. There was also a loud roar from the hundreds of fans
cordoned off behind lines. Cosmic Kid did a few poses for the cameras. He made
especially sure that his new Penumbra wrist watch was visible. He had just
signed the contract and now Penumbra was the only watch he could wear in
public. It wasn’t Tag
Heuer
- in fact, his first Penumbra
watch had stopped after he wore it in the shower - but it was his sponsor, and
he intended that they got their money’s worth.

He heard in his
mind,
thanks
.
He looked up and saw a relieved Epiphany heading into the building still
looking somewhat dazed. The superazzi started yelling questions at him and he
focused on terse evasive answers. Usually, he was friendlier with the press,
but lately they had been gunning for him and it was making him defensive. Most
of the questions were predictable.
Why
did you and Elle Solstice break up? What’s your relationship with Danny Chase?
What do you think of the Captain Pliable arrest? Have you recovered from your
fight with Seneschal X? Are we going to see the Cosmic Blast? Is it true that
Tampa Bay is going to pick you?
Nothing too surprising, but he
quickly disengaged from the superazzi before they asked harder questions. He
had more important things to do.

His mutant eyes
scanned the crowds of fans for the group from Cosmickid.com, his biggest
fansite
. He had a near photographic memory and used it
ruthlessly at publicity events. Evelyn, the moderator of the site, was here.
She was a pudgy woman in her late twenties, but on the Internet she was the
personification of perky and worth her weight in gold. Of course, Cosmic Kid
knew better than to get too friendly with his fanatical fans; supers were as
likely to be killed by a fan as a supervillain, which was wonderfully ironic.
However, at these sorts of events it was best to reward the long-suffering fans
who had waited hours just for a chance to see him.

“Evelyn!” called out
Cosmic Kid, heading to her as he was being followed by the superazzi. As usual,
Evelyn began to tear up, but pulled herself together enough to begin
introducing people. He turned and looked for Isaac. Isaac scrambled forward
carrying various satchels loaded with autographed pictures and other gifts for
the fans – including the new Cosmic Kid action figure.

“I just want to say
that I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for all of you,” said Cosmic Kid with
complete sincerity. He loved his fans. They believed in him. Yeah, it was hero
worship, herd mentality, or whatever, but he also knew that at the end of the
day they saw in him the superhero that he wanted to be. He wasn’t there yet,
but it helped having people who saw in him that sort of potential. True, most
of the girls here really just wanted to sleep with him, but he had to admit he
was good-looking and his fans had taste.