“So he could be hiding right under our noses,” Smokey surmised.
“It might explain how he seems to appear and disappear at leisure,” Alpha Prime added.
There was further speculation by the other three, but I stayed out of it. I didn’t like the notion of Mouse scurrying around like his namesake, performing sneak attacks on his colleagues, or plotting to take over the world. None of it felt right.
The others were still bandying about theories when we reached the DTG campus, a boundary marked by a large stone wall on which the corporate name was cast in six-foot-tall metallic lettering. Driving past it, we soon found ourselves on the sprawling grounds of the company, which contained not only stylish, modernized buildings, but also an unexpectedly expansive amount of green space. There was even a waterfall next to an adjoining garden. Simply put, the place was beautiful.
Eventually we ended up in the parking lot of an interconnected cluster of futuristic-looking buildings, the most notable of which was a structure that was designed to look like a cube floating between two other edifices. My father pulled into a reserved parking spot that was clearly intended for VIPs and turned the engine off.
“Let’s go,” Alpha Prime said as he opened his door.
A moment later, we were headed towards the entrance to one of the buildings.
Once inside, we found ourselves facing a number of speedgates that utilized card readers to allow further access to the building. Next to the speedgates was a security desk, which Alpha Prime began walking towards.
There were three guards behind the desk, and the nearest one looked up as my father approached. Reaching into his back pocket, Alpha Prime pulled out what looked like a plastic card and handed it to the guard.
“I need to get in,” he declared. Almost as an afterthought, he hooked his thumb at me, Smokey, and Electra, adding, “They’re with me.”
There was a scanner of some sort close at hand, and the guard swiped the card in front of it. Almost immediately, a diode on the device flashed red. Frowning, the guard swiped it again, and then a third time. Each attempt, however, produced the same result: a flashing red diode.
Turning to a nearby keyboard and monitor, the guard hastily typed something that I couldn’t see. Following this, he swiped the card once more, and the diode again flashed red. The guard looked at the monitor for a second, and then looked back at my father.
“I’m sorry, sir,” he began, “but it looks like your access has been revoked.”
“Excuse me?” Alpha Prime said, displeasure evident in his tone.
“Your access,” the guard repeated. “It’s been revoked.”
“When?” my father demanded. “How?”
“I’m afraid I’m not privy to that information,” the guard replied.
My father simply glowered at him for a moment. Even in civvies and without anyone knowing who he was, Alpha Prime could be incredibly intimidating. As evidence of this, all three guards were now watching him warily, and two of them had their hands on the butts of their respective weapons.
Without warning, my father turned and began angrily marching towards the exit. We followed him without needing to be told.
Once outside, Alpha Prime let out a groan of frustration.
“Okay, change of plan,” he announced suddenly. “Smokey, you and Electra stay with the car.”
As he spoke, he pulled the car keys from his pocket and tossed them to Smokey.
“Will do,” Smokey intoned.
“Jim, come with me,” my father said, then went soaring up into the air.
I flew up after him, and it took me almost no time to realize where we were headed: the top floor of the floating cube building. Once there, we hovered for a few seconds outside the window, which was made of reflective glass. For a moment, I simply watched our reflections – the two of us, father and son, suspended in the air – and couldn’t help but feel that we made an impressive sight.
“Jim, take us inside,” Alpha Prime said.
I phased one of the window panes, making it insubstantial, and flew through it into the building, with my father right behind me. I made the window solid again and then looked around.
We were in a posh, executive office that was at least two thousand square feet in size. Based on casual observation, little had been spared in the way of expense, as evidenced by a sitting area filled with leather furniture, hardwood floors, and built-in, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. In addition, the walls held several paintings that I assumed to be high-priced, and in one corner stood a piece of avant-garde art that looked somewhat like a man sculpted from metal.
Sitting behind a huge executive desk and talking on the telephone was a young man – probably in his mid-twenties – who looked somewhat familiar to me. Alpha Prime began walking towards him, and I followed.
“Yeah, I’m gonna have to call you back,” the man said casually into the phone as we approached. Hanging up, his eyes went back and forth between me and Alpha Prime before settling on my father, at which point he stated, “You don’t have an appointment.”
“Do I need one, Dave?” my father asked, taking a seat in one of two high-back executive chairs on our side of the desk. Following his lead, I sat in the other.
“Apparently not,” said Dave. “But then again, the world’s greatest superhero is welcome everywhere he goes.”
“Almost everywhere,” Alpha Prime corrected. “Seems my access here has been revoked.”
“Well, that’s a shame,” uttered Dave, somewhat tongue-in-cheek. Looking at me, he asked, “So who’s this?”
“This is Jim,” my father said. “Jim, this is David Thaddeus Goodson.”
“Dave Goodson?” I uttered in surprise. “The founder of DTG?”
No wonder he looked familiar to me. Dave Goodson was a famed tech guru, hailed worldwide as an idealist and visionary. I must have seen him on television or in the newspaper a million times, but he didn’t look quite the same in person.
“No, not the founder of DTG,” Dave confessed, as he stood up and reached across the desk to
