Hero complex, p.13
Hero Complex, page 13
Athena rested her elbows on the table, her chin on her hands, and leaned forward like she was about to tell Bronte a juicy bit of gossip. “If you think nursing’s tame, you should swing by the emergency department on the weekend of a full moon during the summer.”
“Now I’m picturing you battling werewolves and vanquishing demons under a blood moon.” Bronte started to reach across the table to wipe a smudge on Athena’s face but stopped herself. She handed her a napkin instead, her hands a little shaky.
“It’s not so different than that.” She took the napkin and caressed Bronte’s hand as she did so. “But you asked why I became a nurse. I did it for my uncle, Vasileios.” Athena’s gazed looked far away, looking upon a moment of sadness.
“Was that what he wanted for you?” This time Bronte was courageous enough to reach across the table. She took Athena’s hand.
Athena shook her head still looking burdened by unshed tears. “He wanted me to see the world. Of everyone in my family, he understood me the best. He’d sit for hours with me in my room and tell me stories of adventure and excitement awaiting me on the other side of the door while I was too anxious to set foot outside. He never judged me or made me feel weak or stupid. Every time he left he’d say ‘Someday, Athena, you and I are going to see the world together.’ We never did get the chance.”
Bronte squeezed their joined hands. “What happened to Uncle Vasileios?”
“He got sick. Terminal cancer. He should have had years to live, but things spiraled quickly. There are two things that stand out to me about that time, aside from loving and losing him. The first was that my love for him was more powerful than my anxiety and I was able to visit him every day whether he was at home or in the hospital. The second was his nurses. One of them found out about his plan to travel the world with me, so they brought the world to him.” Athena paused and wiped at a stray tear.
Bronte scooted her chair around the table and sat next to her. Athena took her hand and leaned her head on Bronte’s shoulder.
“The nurses brought him food from different parts of the world, magazine articles, books, videos, podcasts, anything they came across. In the end, I guess we saw the world together, because of them. I thought, giving someone a life, no matter how close to death, is more challenging, meaningful, and fulfilling than any other job I could think of. And if I were to ever get bored, there’s always the werewolves and ample vacation days which I put to very good use.” Athena smiled shyly at Bronte.
“Werewolves or metallic robot women who love the dimples you get when you smile.”
Athena blushed. “I don’t need to be bored to seek out your attention. I’m glad you know about Vasileios. Not many people do, he’s always felt too important to share, but we’ve battled monsters and bad guys together, so perhaps nothing’s off limits.” Athena made a show of looking Bronte over from head to toe. She raised an eyebrow and gave a wicked grin.
This time it was Bronte’s turn to blush. Why didn’t the zeptobots protect her from that embarrassment? Would the metal turn pink if she were suited up? Athena saved her from spinning into a world of questions with a quick kiss to the cheek and pulling a box of donuts from the bag of food she’d prepared for their dinner. They didn’t talk about Bronte’s powers or zeptobots the rest of dinner, but it wasn’t far from Bronte’s mind. She thought about what Athena had said too, about life being challenging but meaningful. Wouldn’t retaking her research and crippling the work Bard was doing help restore the lives her friends had led? She had to retrieve her research and stop Bard from using it to hurt people. Athena may never forgive her, but at least she’d be safe.
Chapter Fifteen
Bronte opened the outer door a crack. The cool air hit her and filled her lungs. It felt like the first hint of spring after a long winter. She didn’t realize how stale it got in the warehouse. She opened the door a little wider and slipped out into the still, dark morning. The others were sleeping, and she took one last look at Athena, curled up in her bed, before she closed the door behind her. She was the only one who needed to put herself in danger at the hospital. The others had to stay as far from it as they could. She would keep them safe.
Their section of town wasn’t lit with welcoming streetlamps and friendly porch lights. Occasionally there was the harsh glare of an industrial motion sensor light flashing on, but most had been destroyed long ago, and for any still working it was easy for Bronte to blend in with the shadows. She turned her hand to metal and experimented with finishes. She’d mastered shiny versus matte, but she wasn’t sure if she could change the color from liquid mercury to obsidian. She asked the zeptobots silently. Her hand changed to a dark gunmetal gray. She whispered, “Thank you.”
She set off at a run toward Bard’s building. Two miles in she realized she wasn’t gasping for breath. The fresh morning air felt like fuel for her lungs, and she loped easily away from the warehouse and into populated areas of town. She couldn’t remember ever having run two miles in her previous life, let alone at the pace she was now setting. Another data point to record for later analysis. She covered the roughly five miles in under fifteen minutes. An unexpected wave of emotions hit when she was confronted with the building she’d spent years in, perfecting her zeptobots, expecting to produce something for the good of the world. Now, here she was, ready to break in and try to steal it all back, to prevent it being unleashed on the world. If she did, she’d prevent Bard’s plot and she and the rest of the group would be free. She thought of Athena. She’d be free to resume the life she seemed built for, helping the world and finding time for adventuring too. And Spero…what would happen to him? There didn’t seem to be a good path forward for Galen, who would always be overwhelmed by the excess of the world around her. Bronte ignored the melancholy that followed. Maybe life could never be normal for the three of them again. But Athena could have a chance at getting her life back. That was something.
She took a deep breath and shook out her arms. “You guys ready?” She looked at her hands. Would there be a time when that didn’t feel silly? She didn’t get a response, not that she was expecting one. “Okay. Let’s go.”
Bronte moved among the shadows to the building. She knew there was a little used door that led to the basement and only locked with a key. A key that a couple of the housekeeping staff stashed under a false rock so they didn’t get locked out when they came out for illicit smoke breaks. It was insanely against the rules and all protocol, and she was grateful for their flouting of the rules.
She found the rock and the key and let herself in. Now she needed to find a networked computer. She’d borrowed a few of the supplies Spero had requested, but as soon as she hacked in the threat would be detected. Her time would be limited. She wasn’t worried about being discovered. Athena had told her she was a hero. She could fight her way out. She had to. There was a lot depending on her success.
If she wasn’t able to get back to the warehouse, she’d left a note for the others. Her plan was to leave any data she recovered in a safe location for them to retrieve, assuming she didn’t get caught before she could hide it. Spero would be able to take the next steps without her. She thought of Athena and the possibility of never seeing her again. She shook her head to banish those thoughts. Now was not the time for distractions.
Bronte checked doors until she found an empty office. She locked the door behind her and booted up the computer. She plugged in Spero’s thumb drive which overrode the password lock. She started searching files quickly, counting silently in her head. She figured at best she had a couple of minutes before she was discovered.
It was difficult to control the mouse because her hands were shaking so wildly. Her heart was thundering so loudly in her ears she was convinced someone was banging on the door multiple times. Her enhanced hearing wasn’t helpful when her own nerves were drowning everything else out.
After what felt like hours, she found what she was looking for. The folders were labeled “The Program” and “The Army.” Not terribly imaginative, but clear. She scanned them while she waited for the files to transfer to the external hard drive. Bile rose in her throat. Bard didn’t intend to use her technology to sell more cell phones and dietary supplements. She was planning full-scale world domination and raising an army to do it. Using Bronte’s technology. What the files contained was vomit worthy. Bronte had to stop her. She had to tell the others.
As soon as the files transferred, she deleted them from the system on the off chance this was the only copy, collected her things, turned the computer off, and peeked out the door. Three of Bard’s men were running toward her. She threw the door open, hitting the closest one in the face, and ran in the opposite direction. She turned a corner and two more men awaited. Bronte lowered her shoulder and barreled through them. Her breathing was ragged. Her heart seemed to have begun beating everywhere in her body. The men tried to grab her, but her metallic skin was slippery and difficult to grasp. She burst free and kept running.
As she ran she tried to remember where the exits were. Keeping calm while being chased like a rat in a maze proved challenging. Her brain was fuzzy. Her eyesight focused down to only what was in front of her. She banged off a wall as she took a corner too quickly. Enhanced speed wasn’t an asset in a small space with tight corners. She skidded round another corner only to face two more of Bard’s men. She changed direction and took a quick right down another hall. How many of them were there? Galen had called them, “The Ten Romans.” Were these them? If so, she’d met seven.
Somehow she made it into the lobby of the building. It was still early so there wasn’t much activity. She dropped the metal skin and walked quickly across the large space toward the door. She glanced over her shoulder. None of the seven men she’d encountered were following.
“Bronte Scales. So nice to see you again.”
Bronte turned slowly. A shiver ran along her spine.
“I have nothing to say to you.” Bronte stood as tall as she could. She recalled her metal skin.
“Quite a magic trick. It won’t save you.” Bard looked bored.
“You shouldn’t have come back here.” The man called Antonio was standing next to Bard. He waved his hand at something behind Bronte.
Before she could turn to see what he had indicated, a ferocious blow landed across her shoulders. It knocked her off balance and she fell to her knees. The external hard drive flew from her hands and skidded across the floor. Bard stopped it with her foot.
“And now that I have this as well as you, you’ve failed completely.” Bard smashed the hard drive with her expensive looking snakeskin heels. Plastic shards scattered across the floor.
Bronte lunged forward and grabbed the damaged drive. She rolled away and got back to her feet. “Now what do I do with it?” She said it under her breath, but as soon as it was out of her mouth, the metal on her hands began to move. She was so surprised she almost dropped the drive. She watched in amazement as her exoskeleton expanded, enveloped the drive, and then returned to its previous shape, molded to her body.
She turned her hand over and back. Where did it go? She didn’t have time to think about it before another blow hit her shoulders and another stuck her in the legs. This time, she didn’t go down. She turned to face her attackers. Two more of Bard’s men. Nine of ten. They each had long sticks and were swinging them expertly at her. She swung wildly as one aimed at her head. She missed. The strike clanged off her ear, bringing her once again to her knees. Once she was off her feet the two men moved in and rained down a torrent of attacks. Although her metallic skin protected her, Bronte wasn’t able to get back to her feet or fend off the blows. She tried unsuccessfully to swat them away and mount a counterattack. It was painfully obvious how inept she was at hand-to-hand combat. What had she been thinking?
She fell with her face against the cool floor after a particularly brutal series of strikes. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the assault stopped. Bronte gingerly returned to her feet and faced Bard and her attackers. She took up what she hoped was a fighting pose.
“I don’t know if I admire or pity your insistence on prolonging the punishment.” Bard waved something forward. “I’d like you to meet the latest product of your creation. This is Septimus, in a prototype suit. It won’t be long until we’ve perfected your incomplete work and the suit won’t be necessary. We’ll inject people just as you injected yourself, and then use the program to make certain they do as they’re told. And unlike you, they won’t be virtually useless in a fight.”
Septimus stepped into Bronte’s line of sight. He was wearing a metal suit of armor that looked like next generation military tactical gear. He pulled a shield over his face that was a screen of some sort. When she looked closer there were screens on his shoulders, chest, and knees.
“Do you think you’re worthy of the powers you have now?” Bard sneered at her.
Septimus’s screens lit. She was overcome with doubt. It doubled her over and left her gasping for breath. She saw her hands return to their human skin. The next attacks sent searing pain through her ribs, her shoulders, and back.
“What gives you the right to wear that suit? Who are you? You’re no one.” Bard squatted in front of her and lifted her chin. “You’re going to get the others killed. Their deaths will be your fault. It’s only a matter of time before we find them.”
Bard held her face toward Septimus. Bronte was powerless to stop her. The screens changed and the guilt that swept through her was more overwhelming than the doubt. Bard wasn’t saying anything Bronte hadn’t already thought. Of course she was right.
“Surrender now and I promise Antonio will go easy on them when he finds them. If you’re cooperative, maybe I’ll even let the hot little nurse go.” Bard stood.
Antonio kicked Bronte onto her back. “Or maybe I won’t.” Antonio smiled at Bronte. The darkness in his eyes made her skin crawl.
Bronte wasn’t sure whether it was the kick, the disconnect from the intensity of the screen, or Antonio’s threats that got her moving again. She didn’t care. She scrambled to her feet. Another blow landed hard on her shoulder. She swallowed a cry. She couldn’t seem to summon the zeptobots. Had they abandoned her?
She saw one of Bard’s men swing at her again. She lifted her arm to deflect the strike and this time the clang of metal on metal rang out through the lobby. She pulled her arm back and saw the familiar metal retreating as quickly as it had appeared. Another blow, another pop-up shield. She said a silent thank you and hoped the zeptobots could hear her.
Before she made it halfway to the lobby door she was knocked off her feet and she slid across the freshly waxed floor. She refocused in time to see Septimus stalking toward her with his fist cocked. Apparently fucking with emotions wasn’t the only thing his fancy suit was good for.
“I really need to get out of here.” Bronte scooted backward on her butt. “I need your help. I can’t look at this guy or we’re both screwed. Can I put you in the driver’s seat?”
“No matter what you do, it will never be good enough.” Bard strode toward her. “You aren’t going to cure cancer and I’m going to take credit for the zeptobots. You’re alone in your life and always will be.”
Shame and sadness filled her. She hadn’t been fast enough to avoid Septimus’s screens. There were too many of them. Tears streamed down her face. She wiped at them angrily as she scrambled to get away from Septimus’s pounding fists and vicious kicks.
“Help me.” Bronte held up her hands.
“Are you surrendering?” Bard sounded delighted.
Bronte’s legs stiffened and she was forced to her feet. She caught Septimus’s next punch, twisted his arm, and threw him to the ground, where he lay stunned. She felt like a playable character in a video game.
“I wasn’t talking to you.” Bronte flipped Bard off as she sprinted for the door.
Once outside, she ran. She ran and kept running as far from Bard’s office as she could. She passed the hospital which provided an extra surge to keep her moving. She was still miles from the warehouse and she didn’t think she could make it back. The adrenaline was wearing off rapidly and as it did the pain intensified. Her field of vision started to go dark. Her limbs were fluttery, like the one time she’d passed out in middle school.
She slowed and took stock of her surroundings. She wasn’t sure who had been driving their high speed sprint, but either she or the zeptobots had brought her to the coffee shop she’d visited with Athena. “All clear.” As soon as the metal skin fell away so did her ability to stand. Blood flowed into her eyes and her body screamed with pain. She stumbled for the coffee shop but couldn’t make it to the front door. The alleyway behind was closer. Maybe she could rest there long enough to regain some strength. She made it as far as the dumpster and collapsed. The last thing she remembered before the world went dark was the slam of a door and someone’s cry of alarm.
Chapter Sixteen
Athena paced. Her jaw hurt from clenching her teeth. Her fingers ached from how tightly she’d been balling her fists. There should have been a groove from the path she paced from Bronte’s workbench to the kitchen.
On this pass she slammed the note she’d found on Bronte’s pillow hard on the workbench. She’d been clutching it since she discovered it this morning.
“What the fuck was she thinking?” Athena wanted to rip something in half or scream. The note seemed like a good candidate, but it was her only tie to Bronte who might be dead or have completed her mission and abandoned them.
Galen was draped across the bench. She’d been watching Athena pace for the last hour. “You know what she was thinking. If you’re honest with yourself, you knew she was going to do this.”
