Maybe, when all of this was over, I could petition the next head guy at Yarborough to give us wages like the ones in Thomaston. The superheroes here didn't want for anything and even their cafeteria was nicer than ours. Yarborough's people deserved better and I probably had some sort of seniority and clean record that could give me that kind of bargaining chip.
As I'd expected, the cafeteria was abandoned. All except for one table, at which one man was seated. Just one guy, eating an everything bagel, and watching me with eyes that screamed distrust.
"You have until noon," Logan reminded me.
I waved at him, friendly as I could be. Then lightning struck my mind and I grabbed a waffle from under the heat lamp and walked over to join him. The look on his face was one of exceptional offense. How dare I sit down with him? Me? After I'd caused how many deaths of his pure, sweet, innocent people?
Ah, I was a real bastard. "You said you won't help us. Fine. I get that. But you have so many horses in this race, I don't get why you're upset about the drones. Or about superheroes getting killed. It happens all the time. Are you blaming the Kipas on us?"
"You're the reason they showed up."
I mentally ticked off a checkmark box. 1-Edwin, 0-Logan. "How do you know that?"
"You aren't going to give up until I sit down with you for a full fucking interview and explain every little decision. Are you?"
The margarine spread wasn't the best I'd ever had, but it worked fine with the waffle. I swallowed my first bite, folded the wedge of waffle like a New York style pizza slice, and shoved the whole thing in my mouth. Then I nodded at him, wanting an excuse to not answer any questions he might have had.
His eyes narrowed and he looked down at his bagel. It took him a while to finish it and I matched his pace with my waffle. Finally, there was no food left and he crushed his used paper coffee cup with his fist. "I don't want you leaking this to the rest of your friends. This isn't public knowledge and it's not something that any of you should have access to."
"I solemnly swear I won't tell a soul, if that's what you decide you want me to do," I said, holding up two fingers. "Scout's honor."
"About as good as anything I'd get from you, I suppose. Let's get up to my office."
"No."
Logan paused, having just started to get out of his chair. He frowned at me. "No? You aren't calling the shots here, boy. I am. You come with me or you forfeit your time."
"You want me to know," I said. "You want me to know because you think it'll help us when we go face him down. But I don't want to be held in your office and I've been screwed around like that before. Don't you have some kind of forcefield you can generate?"
"How the hell do you know that?"
I shrugged. "I do my homework and I was on your mainframe running that operation last night. It isn't hard to take two seconds to look at someone's information while you're guiding superheroes around and keeping up on their vital signs."
That got me a hard stare. "It's not hard?"
"Not really. Not after all the operations I've run, with all due respect, sir. I'm a busy guy. I like to stay busy. When they're throwing punches, I'm usually looking at files and sorting through everything else. I appreciate that you think it's rough work, but it really isn't."
The forcefield popped into existence around us and he sat back down, folding his arms in front of him. "It's been a long time since I ran into someone as well-managed as you are. James and his team do fantastic work, but you? You're something else. You didn't pass any sort of superpower test?"
"If I have powers, they're ones that we don't consider powers," I said. "It doesn't really matter much to me. I'm happy where I am. I like making sure everyone's safe; or as safe as they can be." I paused, then moved my plate to the side. "I'm sorry that you lost people last night. That wasn't anyone's fault. You and I both know it just happens sometimes. You work your ass off to protect them but they're the ones out there getting stomped to death."
"Or having cars dropped on them."
I nodded. "Or that."
Logan put his chin in his hand as he watched me. "I bet you're some kind of something. Super smart. Something. But if you're happy where you are, there's no reason to put you through a bunch of tests. I'm not just mad about losing people like Whirlwind. He was a good man. Took care of his family, took care of the people around him. I'm mad because of the way it happened. Scribe sent those Kipas to kill you and when he didn't manage to find you, he took it out on us."
"So there's something between him and those aliens?" I asked, my heart in my throat. I'd been right?
The man hesitated for a moment, checked the forcefield around us, and shrugged. "He made them. They're not aliens. He doodled them as a kid and discovered his powers that way. Word has it that he spent a bunch of time making friends with the one he drew, then went on to make an entire novelization of their race and way of life; the stuff most kids can do comfortably. Only he couldn't. And he sent them to the stars to dissolve himself of any responsibility."
"He fucking made them?" I said, choking on the words. "Why didn't he just wipe them out? I've seen him erase whole books full of stuff.
