The lead Cape swooped down from the sky. Her crimson and silver costume identified her as Mistral, a long-time member of the Society, the other Los Angeles super-team. Unlike the Bay Area Brawlers, who Tessa had accurately labeled as San Francisco’s “B” team, the Society Capes were just as well regarded as their counterparts in the Defenders.
The Society also believed that there was no such thing as too much firepower, which is why the Wind Dancer held a cannon that was everything Randy’s old rifle hadn’t been; sleek, modern, and capable of spitting out over a thousand rounds a minute.
Mistral came to a halt ten feet in the air above us, her crimson sash streaming in the breeze that kept her afloat. An armored helmet hid her features, including a nose that I knew had been broken at least a dozen times. “Names and occupations, citizens.”
“Randal S. Thurston, ma’am.” Randy gave the Cape a little bow that didn’t look nearly as ridiculous as it should have. “Proprietor and, as of about two years ago, sole resident of this here town.”
“And you?” That visor rotated in my direction, the cannon in her hands as steady as a rock.
“Damian Banach,” I told her, mindful of the other Capes that had spread out to encircle us from above.
“The boy’s a student at the Academy,” Randy filled in helpfully. “Here to catch a ride to the Hole.”
I couldn’t see Mistral’s frown, but I could hear it. “This was supposed to just be a charging stop. I wasn’t told anything about additional passengers. How did you even get out here?”
“I had a classmate from the Academy teleport me over.” I shrugged. “Meant to board back in Los Angeles, but I kind of overslept in the medical ward.”
“In the med ward, huh…” For the first time, something like humor entered the other woman’s voice. “You wouldn’t happen to have been part of the little brawl that went down at The Liquid Hero?”
“You’ve heard of it?”
“The bar?” She laughed. “I graduated in 61. We practically helped build that place. As for the fight, it’s all anyone’s talking about. I hear Paladin’s kid put Backstreet right on his ass?”
Jesus. Word really did travel, considering the shuttle had left the very next morning.
“Yeah. First time I’ve ever seen Matthew lose his temper.”
“Good for him. Wasn’t sure the boy had it in him.” Mistral descended the rest of the way to the ground, touching down in a brief swirl of dirt and wind. Up close, she was shorter than I’d expected, the gleaming costume emphasizing her broad shoulders and narrow waist. She was dark-skinned and remarkably stacked, one of the few details I did remember from her vids.
Growing up without much in the way of an outlet for my hormones… was it any surprise I’d gravitated to Cape vids? Now that I’d spent a year at the Academy, I understood just how much sweat and tears went into maintaining the physiques I’d seen on all those vids. Frankly, that just made me appreciate it even more. And a little bit relieved I wasn’t going to live long enough to wear a costume of my own
“You’re going to have to wait here for just a few minutes, Mr. Banach. Like I said, we weren’t expecting new passengers, so all of the equipment is packed away.”
“Equipment?”
“President Weatherly’s order grants access only to blood relatives or spouses of the inmates interred within the Hole. We need to verify your identity and that you meet the criteria.” A few armed soldiers had left the shuttle’s lead car, carrying something heavy between them. “You don’t mind a little blood, do you?”
“I’m a first-year,” I reminded her. “If I did, I’d be screwed.”
“True enough.” She had a nice laugh. “Mr. Thurston, is there an external outlet we can hook up to?”
“Sure enough,” said Randy. “Also have a suggestion for you young folk. Given the size of that behemoth on wheels over there, recharging’s going to take a while. You might want to get that started first.”
“Not a bad idea.” Mistral said something into her short-wave radio—one of the multi-band versions only Cape teams had access to—and the shuttle inched its way up to the charging station.
By the time it had arrived, the soldiers were there with their own burden. While the scale didn’t compare, it had a lot of similarities to the machine used for the powers test. Perhaps unsurprisingly, it also reminded me of the Maze.
“It’s a modification of the testing machine’s design,” Mistral confirmed.
“And the Maze?”
“Different Technomancer, I think, although the testing machine may have been his starting point.” She paused. “How do you know about the Maze? I didn’t think they’d brought it out for this year’s Graduation Games.”
“They didn’t.” I swallowed. “I saw it up close and personal during the year. Unfortunately.”
“The High-Three Healer boy?”
“Unicorn. Yeah.” Guess I shouldn’t have been surprised she’d heard about that too.
“That was a dark day for the Free States. Lost both a Healer and a High-Four Pyro. Minor miracle we didn’t lose the other two on the scene, from what I hear.” She paused again, but this time, the silence lasted for a good ten seconds. “Wait… Damian, you said?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re the baby Crow.”
I knew what was coming, but fuck if I was going to act ashamed of who I was. I squared my shoulders. “Yeah.”
“Good for you, kid.”
“I’m sorry?”
“It takes stones to walk the path you’ve chosen.” She shook her head. “Century or so before the Break, half the world wanted to believe my people were nothing but animals. Sometimes, all it takes is one individual to show the world what it can do with its stereotypes.”
I ducked my head. If she hadn’t been almost old enough
