The next few days are uneventful, as the superhero lifestyle goes.
Mirage has figured out Fuko’s ecological niche in the crime-fighting world. Unfortunately, it does nobody any good.
“In previous times, criminals relied on speed. If they could outrun the alarm, they could often get away with the crime,” she explains. “Alarms would notify the police, or to private security firms. One of the HHL’s smart moves, and one they passed to the JHHL, was to organize a security subsidiary that would let them respond with the same alacrity. Otherwise, superheroes as vigilantes would mobilize based on citizen reports. Good from a legal perspective, as if you officially called a superhero to respond to an incident and they broke your building in the process of doing so, the insurance company would often refuse to pay out. Bad from a property retention perspective, as the losses could easily outweigh the damage.”
“Tyran’s corporatist, or shall we say traditionally fascist, approach has unified most of these elements under a single banner. He owns the warehouses and factories. He owns the security companies. He owns private security responders - the Stellar Six and his robots. He doesn’t - quite - own the police, but I’m sure it’s just a matter of time. The result is a radically shortened response cycle.”
The hologram stares at the team. “As a result, criminals are changing their approach from speed to stealth. Fewer stolen trucks at the warehouse, more payments to drivers to look the other way - or replacements of drivers. Tyran is responding with calls for more Tyran Enterprises robot trucks, of course, and the unions are opposing him. Tunnels drilled into bank vaults rather than lightning-fast robberies. You get the idea, I assume?”
The team does.
“But we can’t anticipate where they’ll strike now,” protests Stingray. “How are you gonna tell where they go if they’re being even more subtle?”
“I’m capable of processing data at a prodigious rate,” smirks Mirage.
“Because you’re a computer?” A10 asks sarcastically.
“Because I’m me,” Mirage emphasizes. “And we can use the techniques you’ve used before, with your teammate Radiance, and during the search for this…”
The name seems to provoke a bit of confused distaste. “‘Princess Peri’…?”
“Wide-area sensor-assisted searching. I’ve devised a design for a web of sensors. Stingray, as a technologist, you will create the sensors and review my design. Mercury, you will place them around the city at speed. A10, you will place sensors in difficult to reach places. Ninjess, you will analyze the sensor data with me.”
Two days later, the team provides its verdict.
“This system sucks,” A10 announces.
“You’ve stopped two industrial thefts,” Mirage protests. “That surely indicates the system is a success!”
“It’s boring,” A10 growls. “We sit around until we get a ping, then we go stop a truck, apprehend the driver, and pray we don’t get sued by arresting the wrong guy.”
Mirage looks baffled. “That is… crime-fighting, is it not?”
Stingray takes the more moderate position. “Sure, I’m glad that we’re stopping people from stealing stuff, but it doesn’t really help Ninjess’s public profile. Aren’t we still looking for ways to do that?”
Mirage looks at the ground. “That is… the reason I got involved, yes… and I have been considering other options.”
She rallies, and looks back at the unhappy heroes. “But isn’t it enough to enact social good? Isn’t that what you are heroes for? Or have I misunderstood your motives?”
“Guess you’d have to be a hero to understand,” A10 mutters darkly.
Mirage looks hurt, just for a moment, then sneers in defiance. “When I was my old self, the world knew my name.”
Harry holds up hands in a plea for peace. “Ladies. Please.”
He looks to Mirage. “I think what A10 is kind of getting at is, well, sure, we want to do good, that’s what we’re here for. But it’s sometimes an uphill battle, because, y’know, nobody really pays us, people don’t always appreciate us, and if we make a mistake, it’s on our heads. It’s nice to feel like you’re doing a good job. Good feelings make for good motivation, right?”
“I see your point,” Mirage concedes. “There is another–”
She pauses, and looks up sharply. “Alert. High priority supervillain activity in the Longstoke District. All available heroes are requested to respond.”
“We’re on our way,” Harry declares. And off they go.
Stingray and Ninjess are getting around on one of Trace’s newer inventions, called the Flying Fish. It’s an open-design two-seater with wings, capable of operating above or below the water with equal ease. A10 can fly, and Harry can run. As a team, it takes them very little time to arrive.
The Longstoke District is a series of towers, cross-connected by walkways at different levels. Several of the towers have unfoldable shelters to block the sun, harness radiated heat from the street level, and collect rain water. There’s even airship docks and helicopters on the roofs. It’s a bit of experimental urbanism, a place that asks all the ways in which a city can evolve.
Right now, much of the District is blanketed in a thick mist.
“Where to?” Stingray asks.
The team can hear the distant sounds of explosions, gunfire, and crunching metal. “That way,” says Harry over comms, and heads into the mist.
“I’m tracking your movements,” announces Mirage. “There is a disturbance 6 blocks north from Mercury’s current position. Visibility is poor. I will be deploying radar-equipped drones, but there will be a delay before they come online.”
A10, flying ahead of Stingray, darts into the mist. “It’s cold,” she reports.
There’s an ear-splitting cracking noise, something that shakes the world around them.
“What the hell was that?” yells Stingray nervously.
“A building is collapsing,” Andi reports tersely. “People are on the street.”
“Get them to safety!” shouts Harry, and puts on a burst of speed. “Move!”
The Flying Fish dives into the mist. Stingray and Ninjess can glimpse A10 swooping down, and can see the intricate swirls of mist created by Mercury running at super-speed. His constant criss-crossing of the ground forms eddies in the air, and these intersect with each other.
They can hear Mercury’s PA system, built into his suit, making an announcement through the concealing fog. “Attention Citizens - the Hero Mercury is active - I am evacuating as many of you as possible - please remain calm…”
Stingray knows he can’t match Harry’s speed. But how can he help?
He presses a button on the Flying Fish’s front panel. Several flares shoot out of the craft, creating incandescent islands in the mist.
“Follow the flares!” he shouts. “I’ll light a path to safety!”
“I need to know who’s doing this,” Ninjess says from behind him. Before he can respond, she hops off the bike and falls into the mist below.
Stingray watches A10 streak by, carrying two or three people at a time. Quick as lightning, she’s out, then back.
The collapse is over in seconds. The mist is swept away by an enormous wave of dust, as the building finishes its descent to the street, and Stingray is showered by bits of rubble that bounce harmlessly off his armor. It was hypnotic, somehow, watching things fall, realizing they weren’t in slow motion, they were just that big.
Trace is jolted out of his reverie as a car goes flying past him, out of the cloud. Without even turning to check, his instincts tell him there’s probably people at the other end of its arc, and he wheels the Flying Fish around to intercept it.
The little craft’s engines don’t have the oomph needed to catch the car, but he’s able to bump it just enough to collide with a semi trailer, rather than land on anyone. He breathes a sigh of relief, but it’s short-lived.
“Combatants identified,” Mirage reports. “The Stellar Six are engaging with elements of the Seven Wonders.”
“What do we do?” Stingray asks, half to himself.
“Just save as many people as possible,” Harry announces. “My dad said when we fought them, they were playing around with us. Nobody’s playing now.”
The team falls into a regular rhythm for the next two minutes and thirty eight seconds, though it feels like an eternity. Harry grabs people off the street and moves them to safety - defined as the edge of the mist. A10 grabs people off the skyways, out of buildings, or other places her partner can’t reach. Stingray on his Flying Fish tackles odd jobs and makes sure that an evacuation route is clear. And Mirage directs traffic, crisply announcing where to go and what to expect there.
“I have eyes on two individuals,” Fuko announces at last. “I believe I’m unobserved.”
Trace breathes a long sigh of relief. “What are you doing?” he demands. “Get outta there.”
“Negative,” the Atlantean girl whispers via comms. “Mirage, do you need specific intelligence?”
“Who are they and what are they doing?” the hologram asks.
“One individual is probably ‘Motormouth’. They are an amalgam of animated technology. The other is probably ‘D-SOL-8’. He is visibly a cyborg. Ground level. They are accessing a terminal of some kind.”
“I have your location,” Mirage reports. “Right. This is a Park Tech building. They’re probably trying to access data about their space program. Beginning counter-intrusion…”
“I have an EMP device,” Fuko says after a moment. “Should I deploy it to disrupt them?”
There’s a hesitation on the line. “Can you get out safely?” Mirage asks at last.
“It is possible.”
Stingray cuts in. “Wait a minute! Just get outta there, Fuko. Serious shit is happening here.”
Mirage explains for his benefit. “A major villain team is engaging a credible hero team at full force. Their objective appears to be cover for this hack. Ergo it is probably of intense significance. Ergo it’s worth disrupting, at the cost of us learning their specific goal. Ninjess is asking a valuable question.”
There’s a crackle, and the team hears a new voice on their secure line.
“Hey, gang, Motormouth here. I don’t recommend you bombin’ us right now, we’re kinda sensitive about that sorta thing. Take it real personally, especially if it’s that eee emm pee stuff. Boy does that sting, yannow? Nice ta meetcha by the way, I heard you had some fun with our buds the cave god and the stick-up artist. Well, make up your minds soon, 'cause I need to concentrate on this thing.”
“Is everyone clear?” Harry asks.
“Looks like it,” A10 reports.
“Okay. Team, retreat. Radio silence,” Mirage instructs.
The team watches news coverage of the incident in the Conversation Pit. Of everyone, only Mercury and A10 were recognized for their life-saving efforts.
“My dad was right,” Harry admits. “They were playing with us back then. That was serious business.”
“What can we do against that kind of power?” Trace asks helplessly.
“That’s quitter talk,” Andi growls. But she doesn’t have an answer for his question.
Fuko is still quiet, but in the silence of the room her voice carries. “We will find a way to defeat the Seven Wonders.”
Harry knows he can’t just ask “how”, but privately he remembers his father’s words and has to agree with Trace. There’s a power gap, and he’s not sure how to close it right now. Instead, he tries another question. “You think we should tackle them, instead of trying something else?”
Fuko nods. She smiles at her friends and teammates. “I am shinobi. It means ‘to endure’. The ninja are not simply black-clad stalkers with swords. They are invisible by being lowly. They endure contempt and hardship to, as that Mr. Tyran likes to say, ‘get the job done’. If we are to beat the Seven Wonders of the villain world, it will not be through power. We will defeat them by enduring.”
The others look at each other with shrugs and smiles. Nobody has an actual plan, not yet. But as they say, good feelings make good motivation.