Chương 2: Barbs

I was used to the feeling of handcuffs. I knew how they were meant to sit along my wrists. Normally I could just stretch my arms out and they'd become no issue. These ones felt different, no matter how hard I pulled them apart they just wouldn't snap. They weren't even fixed together by chains, it was all just a straight metal bar with loops that held my arms out. I had never seen anything like it before. A voice had broken my pondering over this.

"Don't bother." I looked up from my wrists. The asshole with a mustache who arrested me met my gaze. I became aware of my environment for the first time in hours. Concrete grey room, had the same tone of a walk-in clinic and the kind of ambience that sucked the sound out of your voice if you tried to yell. I was in a plastic chair. Table seemed bolted to the floor like it would run on its single metal pillar if it could. Two incandescent lights to my left and right. There were no windows. No cameras, either.

I was trapped in a blind box. The asshole continued.

"That's made out of 'Dumb Metal.' Invention by some quack in the 90s, he was trying to make an intelligent form of steel that adapted to any request, instead he got it bass-ackwards and created metal that actually forgets how to do things. So we hired him on the spot to make more and we made the supply forget how to break after we've shaped them. Could probably hold down at least Guapo Galera." I stared at him, hoping some solution to my problems would arise from this.

The stare he matched me with indicated that it wasn't the case. He took a seat across from me, placing a manila folder down in front of me with a stack of papers.

"My name, in case you forgot, is Agent Tancred. I'll play nice and tell you my first name is Abichail, I don't have to do that but maybe it'll make you feel more comfortable with the fact I know your name is Leo Holt, that I know you've been through the foster system until you turned eighteen about eight months ago, and that you've been terrorizing Richmond as a vigilante they call 'Crunch.'" I kept staring, I wasn't sure if it was supposed to impress me or not.

Agent Tancred tipped his head in a way that indicated I was supposed to say something, but I wasn't entirely sure what.

"Okay" was all I could mutter out. He finally continued.

"I'm with the Super Commission, as you saw on my badge, I'm what is called an Auditor. The Super Commission is the investigative branch of the United States' Cape Laws." My face scrunched, and I finally got the words out.

"I thought it was all SIT and DSS." He shook his head.

"Our Cape Law has three branches." He held up three fingers: Index, middle, ring.

"First is our executive and enforcement branch, the Superhuman Investigation Taskforce. Despite the name, they only do about half the investigating. They're part of the Department of Defense." Basic information. It made sense. He lowered his ring finger.

"The second is the Department of Superhuman Services, the legislative branch who handles licensing and overseeing self-regulatory organizations for supers. They work directly under the SIT." I pondered why they needed another name for that, but I didn't expect a good answer if I asked. I let it lie. He lowered his middle finger. He then waggled his index finger.

"The Super Commission is not part of the DOD nor is it related to the SIT. We are directly under Congress at the same tier as the DOD. This is because we're the judicial, investigative branch. We keep the other two branches in check and help with their investigations when they need less aggressive measures. Auditors, like me, keep noses clean and mostly step in when politicians' names show up." That last sentence bothered me, and I think I cocked my head enough from it that it drew attention.

"What politicians? I was busting gangbangers." The auditor shook his head while giving this sort of shrug gesture. Not like his shoulders moved, he just went from clasping his hands together to bringing them both up, elbows on the table, palms facing out behind him.

"Not anymore you weren't. When I cuffed you, I had to confiscate your phone. Or more appropriately, the phone you took from that guy. Technically all you did was burglarize a squatted property since the police hadn't drafted up any warrants or probable cause yet, but theft is theft so I had to seize evidence.

I had the police department step in with emergency services to collect who was able to be scraped off the floor and the first one they saw was the more prissy looking fellow hunched over a fallen refrigerator with two shattered legs." I could feel a tension in my chest as he spoke, but I had no way to convey that to the agent as he continued. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

"That gentleman was Virginia Governor Rupert Bailey's son, David Bailey. I can also tell you are superhuman, and unregistered. Just what you did there, regardless of who was in it, would be nine cases of both unlawful power demonstration and display of unregistered abilities. Two big federal offenses." The Blue Card laws. I knew that much, at least. I tried not to make it obvious that I knew how heavy the word "Federal" sounded.

"And on a state level we have aggravated and malicious wounding;" as I had expected.

"Due to the one man being sent out the window, that's prohibition against reckless endangerment of others by throwing objects from places higher than one story;" who comes up with a law name like that?

"There's a strangulation case with one man, though he seems fine;" strangulation? I thought I was just holding onto his shoulder. I tried to interrogate my own memories but there was too much doubt that lingered in the air for any certainty to arise.

"Unlawful power demonstrations are qualified under 'Use or display of superhuman abilities in committing felony' in Virginia which is a mandatory three years on its own." I finally got the minimum at least. I wanted him to shut up about my rap sheet but I felt like any frustration on my face was already tempting fate, so I let the man run on.

"You obviously have assault and battery on top of that." These made sense but these were also just the things I did at that den of crime, if they investigated further they would find-"All of those charges are if you're lucky." Another interruption. My confusion knocks the word "Lucky?" out of my mouth like a loose tooth. He clicked his tongue.

"None of those guys had powers, kid." Fuck. I knew what he was going to say already.

"Your use of powers caused serious injury, meaning you 'exploited the bodily innocence and integrity of a non-superpowered individual with superpowers' to quote the exact law. You could go to The Firmament for this." The Firmament. A bunch of concrete bubbles in the California desert. No one's ever gotten out. Death sentence. My heart felt like it was about to fall out of me. Tancred raised a finger again. Didn't seem to be for counting.

"But I'm not here to tell you that you threw away your life at eighteen years old. You clearly have a sense of justice and you were trying to help people here. The issue is you're violent, you have no training or guidance, and you have no support network. These problems are what led you to this point. As an Auditor, I don't like problems. I like solutions. I, on behalf of the Super Commission, am specifically here to offer you a solution." Offers. Nothing comes for free. But the alternative was death.

"What offer?" I tried to say calmly, but the words stumbled out too fast. The agent reached into his suit's jacket as he began another long-winded response.

"We've discovered a few different superhumans recently, in your age range, who have good in them but haven't had good opportunities to do right with it. At the same time, the government is interested in a more overt superhero team to serve as a tax-funded alternative to the private teams like The Wave of Hope or the Forces of Nature. We've been doing field tests with some of them to see how they handle the concept and they've been doing well, but they clearly needed one last person to balance it out.

Someone who's a lot more willing to push boundaries, someone who swings first. You wouldn't be leading it, but you'd be a big part in our new team." He procured a little plastic card, placing it on the table and sliding it over to me. I didn't look at it, still focused on him. He seemed almost disappointed.

"No flair for the theatrical. Oh well. It's a young hero team we're calling The New Sentinels. You'll have your own living space centered in our base of operations up in Charlottesville and you'll be benefiting from a salaried government payroll. We only have three rules if you go through with it." He brought those three fingers up again. I think there was a look on my face that he interpreted as consent to start counting down.

"First and foremost, you won't be 'Crunch' anymore. You get to be Leo Holt off-work, and when you're on the job you'll be in a costume and under a new hero name that is a bit less scary, and you'll be acting a lot less scary too. We've got a PR agent who's going to help you work out a name." Down went the ring finger.

"Second, as mandatory enrichment, you will be attending college, specifically the University of Virginia and Piedmont Community College to give you some measure of an education and development of your skills." Down went the middle finger, back to that obnoxious pointer.

"Third and finally, you'll be undergoing monthly mental health evaluations by your on-site counselor, who will also help serve as liaison between you, your team, and the Super Commission." At that point, I'd glanced down at the card. The logo for the team name seemed a bit hokey. Orange and blue that blended together in the middle like almost green. I wanted to say no just because of that-"Do we have a deal?" His voice broke my train of thought, and I looked up to see a calloused hand extended out to me.

I felt like if I touched that hand I'd be grabbing something barbed. But my alternative was The Firmament. I wouldn't do that to myself. But no matter what I'd lose everything. He said it wouldn't throw my life away, but he didn't seem to grasp this was my life. I didn't have anything before this, just brick buildings with people who saw me as a paycheck and I considered myself lucky if they did anything more than stare at or ignore me. This would just be going back to that. Making myself be watched or ignored.

And if I said no, death sentence. No better off than that kid on the street corner. Fine. I just need to humor this bastard for a little while. I reached out, grasping his hand while the handcuffs made my other hand hang limply, and sold my soul to the government payroll.