Chương 37: Quiz

There was no time to think about what the Hell was going on. I was being led through hallway after hallway to this press conference. Why not reschedule? Was it too much to ask for a little bit of recovery time? Recovery, right-"Where's Jair-""Teiú," snapped Tancred.

"Where is he?"

"Good news was Agent Lafeuillade had a very easy time closing his wounds," he explained. Lafeuillade, who was flanking my other side, followed up. Despite the fact we were moving at a hurried pace, her gait was natural and common. Almost ghostly.

"The way his body changes means insect chitin can be used for closing wounds. I spent twenty dollars on lizard feed at a pet store and seventeen for a gallon of pork blood. He seems to have superior healing than the average human as well, meaning it closed pretty neatly. The bad news is that there was no nerve tissue to repair. He may never regain nervous function in that part of his body again. Worth monitoring by your doctor."

Great, because I wasn't there to fight that thing with Jairo earlier, he's still got permanent injury.

"And me?" I asked.

"This time I had a bit of time to supply anesthetic rituals on you before I started, since all you really had were broken bones." How the Hell was that thing capable of breaking my bones? I could walk through walls unharmed, but a brawl with it was enough to mulch my insides.

"How badly?" She shook her head, taking a draw of her pipe.

"Frankly, I've seen people get worse from tripping over sidewalk curbs. Nothing I'd let you heal on your own, but not as bad as what happened to Jairo. Your suit likely absorbed some of the blow." Right. It tried stabbing me before but it couldn't get through my suit.

"What's it made out of?" Became my next question. Tancred took over from there.

"You've got ballistic nylon, you've got graphene threads, all sorts of crap that cost a lot of money, and it's got a layer of dragline silk on either side. I half-considered doing a demonstration by shooting you when you got your costume just because I know you could take the kinetic punch."

"Thanks for not doing that," I groaned out.

"Glad to know you're that considerate of my well-being."

"Actually it's because I didn't bring my ear-pro with me and I hate tinnitus." My gloves weren't fabric though. They were a harder material, same as my mask and shoulderpads. My boots too, now that I thought about it.

"But that's just the suit. What about everything else?"

"Oh that's a bunch of crap, I don't even know. I know the weaves because auditor suits use a lot of the same stuff. Harder materials aren't my thing, I'm not an engineer. All I know is I once survived getting shot in the chest because of my tie."

"Was that not your tie tack, Abichail?"

"I haven't worn a tie tack since the CIA, Morgan. It was a little American flag made of the kind of tin you find on a soda can. It couldn't stop a bullet even if there was a brick wall behind it."

"No, I mean you used the bullet as a tie tack."

"Not on purpose!" Meaningless discussion. At least I got some measure of intel on my costume. Dr. Way might have better information on how my head survived those punches alongside my mask while my insides didn't. At some point in the constant turns down halls, a group of individuals with makeup started assaulting me with their devices, brushing at my face. I nearly slapped one through a wall until I realized what they were doing.

"What's going on?" I asked, instead of choosing violence.

"They're dollin' you up," answered Tancred.

"Your face is bruised to shit, and while some looks good, we don't need you to come out looking like you're part eggplant."

"Better phrasing you could use than that," Lafeuillade commented.

"Grape?"

"Maybe the comparisons just aren't necessary."

"Oh fuck off," Tancred griped.

"Point is, Herc, we want you looking tastefully beat up. You walk out of your first fight looking half-dead, no confidence. If you just look a bit knocked around but still standing, that's good for morale. You look human but still strong. You're gonna be real thankful for that mask hiding the worst of it."

"What's the worst of it?" I asked, knowing full well I wouldn't like the answer.

"You lost a couple teeth." He said this without an ounce of concern. There was no tactful response I could offer.

"I lost my fucking teeth!?" My gaze snapped towards Lafeuillade.

"You couldn't regrow my teeth!?"

"Not in a way that wouldn't make you wish you died instead," she answered.

"Bone can come back, but not teeth?"

"The Tooth Fairy's a real demanding bitch, kid," Tancred added on. I dragged my palm across my mask.

"So I'm just short a couple of teeth the rest of my life."

"You're gonna get some dentures while Agent Lafeuillade investigates an alternative means of regeneration. Hell, Way might be able to do something for teeth. Not like you smile enough for people to notice." The only thing I could muster was a groan. Not out of an inability, but because by the time my mouth was opening, Tancred called out a "Think fast, kid!" as a pair of double doors swung open. People. So many. Cameras flashing at me. The makeup people were long gone, no idea where they went off to.

I was too distracted by learning about my free cavity removal. And now there were eyes on me. Real ones and mechanical ones. I didn't even have a second to stop them, by the time I saw them there were three clicks that immortalized my appearance. Had to do my best to not let it dig into me. Glancing over, I could see a table with the others there. Even Jairo, who was slightly hunched over. There was a bunch of microphones, all with different colors, labels, and shapes. Tancred muttered into my ear.

"Perry's busy running an interview with a news channel, so I'm your PR monkey today, kid. I'll be kicking your chairs if you start saying the wrong shit, so pay attention to your posture slipping." Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. The painkillers were the only thing keeping me from limping to the table, I assumed. My muscles felt weak but weren't screaming at me to stop moving. Easy enough to fake.

I planted my ass down in the first open seat I could, right next to May. She tapped me on the arm, speaking low enough the microphones couldn't pick it up.

"You kicked ass, dude. How are you feeling?" Tried my best to follow the volume, seems I could do that well enough.

"Numb. Genuinely numb, the painkillers are probably why I'm able to even talk right now."

"Don't worry too much. This is where Chris and I are gonna probably be handling most of it. Feel under the table, like right under the top in front of you." Following her instructions, I caught the feeling of something square, plastic. Firm, but the middle seemed to be giving way. I didn't push too hard on it. I knew what it was, sort of.

"A button?"

"That's your mic button. Most of these mics are hot, they'll record, but without the button they won't go to the speakers." She nodded her head up. Looking above, I could see a set of speakers attached to the ceiling. The wires sticking out from it coiled to the wall and down to the table. That drew my gaze to the rest of the room. Lot of flat, grey tile. White walls. Those buzzing white lights on the ceiling. Lots of random little portraits of miscellaneous stuff.

Otherwise, pretty empty besides the furniture we were all using, press included.

"Where even are we? I thought we were in a hospital."

"Yeah, we're in the hospital's PR room. They're letting us borrow it." Tancred's voice spoke up, far gruffer than what I'd heard in quite some time.

"Alright, The New Sentinels are open to answer questions now. First come first serve to whoever I see raise their hands. I'll point at them, and they will introduce themselves before asking." May and I had our attention turned back towards the crowd as one man with a clipboard and a clear love of fried food brought his hand up. Tancred pointed to him, prompting the man to stand and speak into his own microphone.

"Hi, Wallace Cornathy, from Channel 8. This is a general question to all of the New Sentinels. You were supposed to be introducing yourselves today; instead you fought two supervillains at a public event with civilians present. Did the government know this attack was coming, and if so, why weren't people warned?" To my right, I could hear Christian's voice. It echoed from the speakers above us.

"Hi Wallace! I'm Flowstate! There's my introduction! As for your question, the government was absolutely not aware of this attack. It was completely spontaneous. Virginia, especially Charlottesville, has had a decreasing crime rate over the past year, with no dedicated supervillain presence. That lack of presence means we would have noticed any sudden change in activity." A bunch of murmuring, scribbling onto notepads, typing on laptops.

A woman — likely in her 40s, vibrant blonde hair — stood up, who Tancred pointed to.

"Raise your hand first, next time!" He called out.

"Maria Gomez, Charlottesville Sunray. Your team operates under the Super Commission. That's a federal body with very limited public oversight. Who exactly authorized this team, who do they answer to, and what are the rules of engagement they're operating under?" May took that one over.

"Hi, Spectroma here! That's my intro! The Super Commission's public oversight isn't as limited as people think, they're just rarely needed outside of consultation. Authorization was from the United States Senate, who we also answer to. The primary liaison for the Senate is the Auditor behind us, Agent Tancred. Our rules of engagement are focused on de-escalation, clear warnings, and following the limitations of the Chicago Act." She sounded far too chipper for admitting we were on leashes.

That's public relations for you. Maria Gomez sat down, raising her hand at the same time.

"Just stand back up!" Tancred called out.

"Maria Gomez, Charlottesville Sunray again. The Super Commission Auditor present today dragged an unconscious man across the venue by his hair. Is that standard procedure for the apprehension of supervillains, and does your team operate under the same conduct guidelines as law enforcement?" Tancred leaned forward, reaching under the table to press the speaker button for my microphones, before speaking into them.

"Auditors operate differently than The New Sentinels. I acted within permitted Super Commission guidelines. Please limit your questions to The New Sentinels." He let go of the button before standing straight up. Another raised hand was pointed to, followed by a man in the most embarrassing bowl cut I'd ever seen standing and speaking.

"Peter Enparo, independent journalist. The Chicago Act requires all superhumans to register. Can each of you confirm your registration status and your Grade? And for the public watching at home; what does a Grade 1 Blue Card actually let you do?" Chris handled that one, thank God.

"We're all registered as Grade 1 Blue Card-holders. In simple terms, Grade 1 means we can actively use our superpowers for the sake of protecting people, local infrastructure, and a lot more. Think of it as a license to be a superhero." Another hand raised from a man with messy black hair and a tired look on his face. Huh, I recognized that guy. Where did I recognize him from? He stood.

"Adam Witts, 74. 18 KTT 'The Katt.'" The guy from that TV thing, the ask a hench one. Huh.

"Hercules," Fuck.

"You were seen catching a van mid-air and throwing it back at who reports are calling TECHNOFIEND. Can you walk us through what was going through your mind in that moment - and how heavy would you estimate that van was?" What was going through my mind? I was practically hallucinating my own mask talking to me while seeing a man about to get killed by a van for the crime of just being in the wrong place at the wrong time. That'd get me put in the crazy house. My chair jostled. Tancred was hurrying me.

I tapped the button, leaning over to speak. Keep it simple, stupid.

"I saw someone in danger. I went to help them. I wasn't thinking about how heavy the van was. It didn't matter how much it weighed. I'd do it regardless." Chest voice wasn't really working here. I couldn't really exhale like that for long. Just put on a bit more of a gruff voice. The journalist gave me a thumbs up before sitting back down. Another hand, another person. Rail thin woman, stringy and long black hair. There was makeup around her eyes so thick I thought she was wearing caterpillars.

"Belinda Blair, Hero Pulse. Teiú, we all saw you going at it with TECHNOFIEND with a huge injury. What kept you in that fight? Do you think you and the rest of your team were ready for a fight like that?" Jairo's croaking voice rocked the speakers. He wasn't transformed, I could hear it. But his helmet still muffled his voice a bit.

"I wasn't gonna let a hole in me stop me from keeping the bad guys away! I don't care how ready we had to be, it just wasn't happening! And Hercules and I won anyway, so clearly we were ready enough!" She nodded before sitting down. Adam Witts raised his hand again before being permitted to stand up.

"Adam Witts, The Katt, you heard it before. Several witnesses reported seeing the clown villain duplicate himself while exiting a car over and over. Can you guys confirm how Clowncar's powers work, and whether the original is in custody?" I felt gazes on me from the others. Shit, was I the only one who actually figured it out? My finger pressed on the button.

"Cars. Clowncar multiplied by going through cars. Went in as one guy, came out as like a hundred. Agent Tancred found the original and detained him, that's what Ms. Gomez was asking about." Chest voice was still failing me. Adam sat back down, before Maria Gomez's hand came back up. She then stood, speaking.

"Maria Gomez, Charlottesville Sunray. Flowstate, our press kits noted you're the team leader, can you explain the decision to split your forces between the armed clowns and TECHNOFIEND? Was that a coordinated strategy, or was it an improvised response to the chaos?" Thank God, let Chris handle this one. His voice echoed over the speakers.

"So I'll be honest with you guys and say it was spontaneous. Things were getting a little crazy and we had to act first. We couldn't let things get all fudged up by waiting on a plan, there were people to save! But we've figured out our synergies already and so we're already naturally comfortable with making those kinds of improvised calls." Bullshit, we were scrambling. Another up-and-down movement from Maria Gomez, and she introduced herself again.

"Spectroma, there are videos circulating of you using some kind of bright light to cauterize Teiú's wounds on the field. Was that an improvised medical procedure, and what's his current condition?" May answered, pleased as punch.

"Part of my powers includes medical functions with cauterizing wounds. I had him closed up, and we have more advanced treatment methods on hand. As you can see, he's here and talking." Jairo's croaking voice came on.

"And I'm not letting a little scrape keep me down!" A bit of a laugh erupted in the crowd for that. Another hand raised. An older, stony-faced man with short grey hair, blue eyes that bored into you. He spoke with a deep, booming voice.

"Holden Worth, independent. I can tell by your voices and demeanor that you're all very young. Teiú in particular. Is the government putting children in the line of fire instead of deploying the Patriot Project or petitioning veteran superheroes like The Wave of Hope like they did in the second World War?" None of us had time to answer, Tancred overtook the table and hit the button.

"No comment at this moment. Thank you all for your time, this press conference is over." That was probably gonna bite us in the ass.