Chương 14: Bk 1 Ch 13: Opposition

The most common reaction to Alex and I telling people we're officially dating is, "Wait, you weren't already?" Cassie teases us relentlessly, of course. We end up jumping her after she promises to get Alex a strap-on for her eighteenth birthday; Alex holds her down while I sharpie a Groucho Marx mustache and glasses on her face, along with some poorly drawn dicks. She mostly lets up after that. I do end up going over to Alex's place for dinner another couple of times the very first week.

I'm not sure exactly how much she told her parents about what went on at the rave, but they don't seem to have soured on me at all, so probably not too much. I slowly start to get more comfortable with them, deciding that they genuinely are just nice people; the worst I could say about them is that they're a little sheltered. Now that I've finally got real furniture in my apartment, Alex starts coming over to my place too, which is more fun.

Before I can start getting too comfortable with things, though, I get a call from Jess about a work problem. That means something she doesn't want to talk about over the phone, so I head over immediately.

"Sorry, should've made it clear it wasn't an emergency," she says when I get there.

"Definitely something you'll want to hear about, though. We've been keeping an ear out like you asked, and apparently there is actually a new magical in town." I frown.

"Damn, that's annoying. I figured Huntsman would've at least given them the boot." I guess it's technically possible it's not the same magical who apparently got in a fight a couple of weeks ago, but magicals really aren't that common.

"Well, hopefully this'll be the last one before other black masks start figuring out there's no room for them here. What else can you tell me?"

"Well, that's the thing. It's a white mask, not black."

"Oh. Huh. You mean, like, a vigilante?"

"That's what it sounds like. Keep in mind this is all second hand at best, but apparently she's already gotten a few people arrested, just regular criminals, you know. My friend said she goes by Valkyrie, her magic involves making some kind of glowy clones of herself." I hmm, thinking. An independent white mask wasn't something I'd been expecting to deal with. New magicals are correlated at least roughly with population, which means most of them tend to come from big cities.

But big cities are also where strike teams are based, and often the big syndicates and cartels as well, so fresh black masks who don't immediately get themselves killed often end up leaving for greener pastures. When a fresh white mask doesn't want to sign up with ABRA, though, it's usually because they want to stay where they are, so this new magical is most likely native to Franklin. Two new magicals emerging within a year of each other in a city this size is statistically unlikely, but clearly not impossible.

Dealing with a white mask will require a different approach, though. ABRA is mostly happy to turn a blind eye when black masks kill each other, as long as we don't cause collateral damage. But most vigilantes eventually end up getting badgered into registering and joining a strike team, so killing them directly cuts into ABRA's recruitment pool. Of course, a vigilante who gets too violent will just get labeled a black mask, and then it's open season. But it sounds like that's not the case quite yet.

"Any word on how the cops are reacting?" I ask.

"Sounds like they might've been arguing with her, probably trying to convince her to register, but take that with a grain of salt." So not actively hostile, then, just the expected badgering.

"What part of town?"

"This part of town. My friend said the latest incident was around 8th and Lincoln."

"Damn," I say again, scowling.

"Well, not much I can do about it right now. Spread the word, tell everyone to be extra careful and try to keep their heads down. Hopefully ABRA will bully her into registering before too long, and she'll fuck off to wherever they train strike teams. Until then, just make sure everyone understands never to try and fight her. If they happen to run into her, they should call me if they can, and otherwise just surrender. I'm sure a good lawyer will be able to get them off no problem.""

Hopefully none of our people are stupid enough to try shooting a magical, but I'll tell them anyway," agrees Jess. Ironically, the new white mask actually ends up benefiting us significantly. Over the next week, two of the independent dealers who declined to join when Jess originally approached them change their minds. Partially, that's just because we've had enough time to start building a reputation, but they're also hoping I'll be able to protect them.

There's another couple, Brian and Leah, who are a little older, around thirty. They grow weed, an operation similar in size to Jess and David's old one. The other guy, Rick, has a reliable supplier for coke that doesn't go through the Columbia Syndicate, which will definitely be useful. I instruct all of them to try and recruit half a dozen or so of their customers each, adding two more cells to the Sun Eaters.

Eventually I'll want to start recruiting a little more openly, but I'm not in a rush, especially when I've got a new threat to deal with. I'm not sure how I'll deal with that threat, or if I even need to at all. Valkyrie does strike again after a little more than a week, this time managing to bust someone's grow operation, but it isn't one of ours. The randomness of her actions strikes me as someone going after targets of opportunity; a couple of muggers here, a careless drug dealer there.

That'll make her hard to ambush, but she won't have an easy time finding us either as long as we're careful. I spread the word to everyone to keep a low profile and stop looking for new customers for now. In the meantime, things are going well on pretty much every front, although I am starting to feel stretched a bit thin. I have a lot of different personas to juggle now: The one I wear around friends and at parties, the one I wear at my job, the one I wear for Apollo, and of course the one I wear as Schwarzschild.

They all feel like me, and I don't really dislike wearing any of them, not like the old mask I used to wear around my parents. It is a lot to keep track of, though, and hopefully I'll be able to drop at least one of them before too long. The last week of September, I help Alex organize the GSA's first movie night of the year. We get permission to use a classroom for the evening by telling the administration we're going to watch Toy Story, then put on Pulp Fiction instead.

It's a decent turnout, more than a dozen people, mostly just our extended friend group. I'm pretty sure me, Alex, and Will are the only actual gay kids there, but Alex is completely satisfied anyway. Like she says, the most important thing is just showing people that there's nothing inherently weird about being gay. Things continue to progress with Apollo as well. We're starting to open up to each other just a little bit.

He confides that he still lives in his parents' house, but he rarely actually sees them; they spend most of their time traveling on business. In return, I tell him about how I left home after my parents found out I'm gay. It's a bit of a risk, a clever investigator could use that information to narrow down my civilian identity a lot, but I feel like it's one worth taking. Building trust requires effort from both sides, and I do intend to unmask to him eventually.

I think he's a little disappointed to learn that he's not my type, but he hides it pretty well. I'm not expecting everything to go perfectly forever, though, and it doesn't. But rather than Valkyrie, the problem which rears its head is one that I've been expecting, although I'd hoped I'd have a bit more time. It starts with another call, a little after 10 on the second Saturday in October, this time from Mark.

"Hey, uh, boss? We got a little situation. Might want to get over here." He rattles off an address. I head over immediately. Finding new places from the air is always a bit of a pain, and it takes me a few minutes to make sure I've got the right house, a small place around half a mile from Cassie's house. I land in the backyard, finding the back door unlocked, so I let myself in. I hear people talking, so I float inside to the living room. Mark is there, along with three of his subordinates.

He's the first to notice me, startling a little before quickly covering it.

"Boss, good, I'm glad you got here quick. Nick, tell her what's up." One of the other guys steps forwards a little nervously.

"So, uh, I was hanging out with Zach and Ryan, just playing some video games and smoking a couple bowls, you know. About twenty minutes ago, AJ shows up. Says he was doing business over at this house party around Adams and 10th, got in an argument with another dealer, left after the other guy flashed his piece. Wanted us to come back with him, kick the other guy out together. Something seemed weird to me, cause I know AJ is packing too.

Pushed him a little, he admits the other guy was wearing a blue and black jacket and beanie. Says he never actually namedropped Surf 'n Turf, but it didn't seem worth the risk to me. Zach and Ryan didn't give a shit, though, they went with him. Left about fifteen minutes ago. I called Mark right away, and he brought over a couple more guys just in case." I resist the urge to swear out loud. Goddamn idiots, I explicitly told everyone to avoid provoking any kind of confrontation with another gang.

Adams Street is around half a mile west of downtown, so well outside of Surf 'n Turf's claimed territory, but those kind of lines are never firmly drawn. Besides, their dealers have no reason not to venture out this way, because I specifically didn't want them to know we're here yet.

"You did the right thing," I say.

"All of you, head over to the party immediately. Get the three of them and yourselves out of there as quickly as possible, tell them its a direct order from me. I'll head over on my own and keep an eye on things, but I'd prefer not to interfere personally. If Surf 'n Turf does make an appearance, do your best to keep things peaceful and disengage. Understood?"

"Got it, boss."

"Then get moving. I'll meet all of you back here afterwards." I leave through the back and fly east. I find the party without any trouble at all, the music from inside and the people all over the front and back yards make it obvious. The house is two stories, so I land on the roof to wait. It looks like a college party, which probably explains why someone from Surf 'n Turf was here in the first place.

No one's acting like there's been any serious trouble, though, so hopefully we'll be gone before any response arrives. Mark and the others arrive after a little less than ten minutes, parking a ways down the street. I watch them head inside. They don't come out again right away, presumably trying to track down our wayward members. For a couple minutes, I tap my fingers impatiently as I wait. Then a black SUV pulls up on the other side of the street and six guys spill out, all of them wearing black and blue.

"Shit," I mutter. With unfortunate timing, my people emerge from the house right as the Surf 'n Turf crowd is approaching the door. There's no way the two groups can miss each other. Mark stumbles to a halt as he sees them; one of them points and says something.

"Hey, dickheads!" shouts the guy in front, presumably the leader.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?" Mark grabs AJ by the arm and pulls him slightly backwards.

"My friends here were just leaving," he says.

"Apologies if they caused any trouble." The Surf 'n Turf lieutenant crosses his arms and frowns.

"Your friends, huh?" He turns and says something more quietly to the guy who pointed, presumably the original dealer, who replies. Mark uses the distraction to try and shepherd everyone away.

"I didn't say you could leave!"

"I didn't ask for your permission," replies Mark.

"I'm here to stop trouble, not to start it. No reason we can't just put this little misunderstanding behind us and all go about our nights, is there?" The confrontation is starting to draw attention from the people in the yard, and more are coming out from the house to see what's going on. That's not ideal, but at least the bystanders will make violence less likely. Surf 'n Turf is also cautious, finding seven people where they presumably expected three.

Three people could just be a couple of buddies, but seven with a clear higher-up implies something bigger. Still, they have reason to be confident in their backing even if they're outnumbered at the moment.

"You're not going anywhere until I'm convinced there aren't gonna be any more 'little misunderstandings.' And you can start by explaining exactly who the fuck you people think you are." Stolen story; please report. Mark's in a tough spot. He knows I want the Sun Eaters kept quiet for now, but Surf 'n Turf probably won't let him just leave if they think he doesn't have a magical backer. I can't help him out without revealing my presence, either, although it's looking like I might have to.

"Tell you what," he says.

"I'll admit my boys were out of line, so let me give you a little something just to make sure there's no hard feelings, okay?" He reaches into his pocket, nice and slow, and pulls out a roll of twenties, tossing it over to the Surf 'n Turf lieutenant. He catches the roll, inspecting it with another frown.

"That's not an answer," he says after a moment.

"It's the only answer you're gonna get. The boss values privacy." That's already giving them more than I'd like, but I can't really disapprove. Any possibility of a perfect solution is already out the window.

"Now, how 'bout we call it good here and all go on our way before this gets messy?" Mark starts shepherding the others away again. The Surf 'n Turf lieutenant seems to debate for a moment, and I silently urge him to just let them go. But then he says, "Nah, fuck that," and pulls out a gun. The others pull out guns too, and so do most of my guys, although at least no one's pointing them at anyone yet. There are still screams from the sizable crowd watching, and people start scrambling away.

"You know what I think? I think you're full of shit. I think if you had a boss, we would've heard about 'em. And I think you'd better put those things down before you end up in a whole world of hurt." Still unarmed, Mark has his arms out to prevent any of our guys from trying to raise their guns.

"This isn't gonna end the way you think it is, man. Trust me, just leave it."

"I'm not asking nicely again. You can put the guns down and answer my goddamn question now, or you can talk to a couple of pissed-off magicals in about five minutes. What's it gonna be?" Mark is silent for a couple of seconds, then lets out a sigh.

"Sorry, boss. Tried my best, but I don't think they're gonna be reasonable." Unfortunately, I agree with him. A lot of the witnesses have already run away, but there's still plenty watching, quite a few hiding behind cars on the street, and probably more inside the house. Well, I was always gonna have to make my presence known sooner or later, although I would've liked it to be later. A single weak gravity field knocks the entire Surf 'n Turf group on their asses like bowling pins.

They yell in surprise, and one of their guns goes off, thankfully not hitting anything important as far as I can tell. Mostly out of pettiness, I grab the roll of bills that the lieutenant dropped, flinging it back towards Mark. He catches it.

"Sorry man, but I tried to warn you," he says after a moment. Then his phone rings. He pulls it out of his pocket and answers.

"Yeah, boss?"

"Let me talk to him," I say, flying a hundred or so feet into the air so they won't hear me talking directly.

"Sure thing. For you," he says, tossing his phone to the Surf 'n Turf lieutenant, who's risen warily back to his feet. He catches it.

"Who is this?" he demands.

"My name is Schwarzschild. I have no desire to begin a conflict with your organization, but it seems the time for secrecy is over. I'm prepared to let this incident slide, as you weren't aware you were in our territory. Now you are. Inform Barracuda and Obsidian that west and south Franklin belong to the Sun Eaters. I hope they'll see the value in being peaceful neighbors, but if not, I'll be happy to add their talismans to my collection."

I don't give him time to respond, hanging up immediately and pulling my phone back into storage. Then I quickly fly back down so I can hear his reaction. I arrive in time to see him throw Mark's phone back, then take a moment to tuck his gun back under his jacket.

"The Sun Eaters, huh?" he says eventually.

"Your boss certainly talks a big game. I guess we'll see if she can actually back it up." He gives a nod, wary and with a bit more respect in it. Then he turns, gesturing for his people to follow him back to their car. Mark lets out a deep breath and does the same. I stay and watch until everyone's driven off, and I hear sirens approaching. Then I fly back to Nick's house. I arrive before them and find the back door still unlocked, so I let myself in.

I take a seat on the couch in the living room, floating it into the air and turning it to face the front door. Then I cross my legs and put my hands in my lap with intertwined fingers. The others find me waiting for them like that a couple of minutes later.

"Hey, boss," says Mark nervously.

"Sorry I couldn't talk my way out without involving you."

"You did as well as you could have given the circumstances," I reply.

"I'm not happy, but none of the fault is yours. You three." AJ, Zach, and Ryan are doing their best to hide in back, but the others quickly move to the sides and leave them exposed. They shout in surprise as I float them forwards, stumbling a little when I drop them a few feet in front of me.

"Explain." AJ looks like he's about nineteen or twenty, with blonde hair in a buzzcut. He swallows a couple of times before he answers.

"I mean, we- we can't just let people push us around, right? We've gotta push back!"

"There are times to fight and times not to. Tell me, what would the consequences have been if you'd simply left and not returned looking for revenge?"

"They… would've taken all our business at the party?"

"And what might the consequences be now, given what you actually did?"

"Well, I guess they know about us now, so they might, uh, they might try to push into our territory?"

"Correct. And thanks to you, we're significantly less prepared for a gang war than we might have been a few months from now. Understand that people may very well die because of what you did tonight. With that in mind, would you say the few hundred dollars you might have made if you'd been successful was worth the risk?" He withers.

"No. I… I fucked up. I… It was my fault, not Zach or Ryan's. Whatever you're gonna do, just do it to me, not them."

"I hold you all responsible, but your loyalty does you credit. I have no intention of killing you," they all sag slightly in relief, "But there will still be consequences for your lapse in judgement. Until the end of the year, half of your personal profits are forfeit to the gang. If I feel you're trying to avoid the punishment by decreasing your efforts, I will extend it. Learn from this. Consider the consequences of your actions in the future, rather than letting yourself be driven by wounded pride.

Is that understood?"

"Yeah. Thank you. We'll do better, I swear," says AJ, nodding fervently.

"I hope you will. But just to be sure the lesson sinks in…" I set the couch back on the floor. Then I make three new gravity fields. They're small and weak, but that's fine, I'm not trying to actually injure anyone. The three of them are yanked into the air, then sent spinning chaotically around in all different directions. It takes less than thirty seconds for all of them to puke, but the vomit gets pulled inwards, splattering on their clothes.

I let them down after that, and they all collapse instantly to the floor, groaning. I stand and step around them, manifesting two rolls of bills, which I toss to Mark and Nick.

"For your good work tonight. Nick, please let them use your bathroom and help them clean themselves up before they leave."

"Right, of course," he says, torn between nervousness and gratitude.

"Mark, make sure no one operates within half a mile of downtown or the university, and tell them to stay extra vigilant. If you think anyone is trying to dig for information on us, let me know immediately." He nods.

"Got it." I leave shortly after that, flying home. As irritated as I am by everything that went on tonight, I can't suppress the tiniest sliver of excitement. Sparring with Apollo has been fun, but it hasn't quite scratched the same itch that my duel with Firestorm did. A gang war with Surf 'n Turf would be dangerous for many reasons, to both the people I care about and even to me personally. But a small part of me can't help but hope they do attack, and give me an excuse to test myself against them.

I don't think I'd get rid of that part of myself even if I could, but I'll have to be careful, make sure it doesn't drive me into doing anything stupid. I don't usually bother reading the newspaper, but I make sure to have a look at what they're saying about the confrontation. It was too late to make Sunday's paper, but it gets a front-page segment on Monday. To my relief, they don't seem to have much to go on.

It's obvious to everyone that there must be a new magical gang in town, but none of the people interviewed caught our name, the cause of the confrontation, or any other real details except the fact that I'm probably some kind of telekinetic. It's entirely possible that the police know more, of course, but I'm not too worried. People at house parties aren't usually real eager to talk to the cops, after all.

They'll certainly be investigating me now, though, so we'll need to start watching out for informants on top of everything else. Unfortunately, it turns out the rumor mill knows more than the news does. Just because it was a college party doesn't mean that no highschool kids were there, after all. I'm just sitting down for lunch on Tuesday when Katelyn says, "Hey, did you guys hear a kid from West was involved in that gang thing Saturday night?"

"No shit? Who?" I ask casually.

"Some senior, I think his name was Ryan? My friend Gina says her friend was at the party, he recognized her from class or something, tried to flirt with her a little, you know. Ten minutes later, she hears there's some shit going down out front, so she looks out the window and sees him and a bunch of other guys standing there with fucking guns." God dammit. I should've kept them spinning for longer.

"Did she see the new magical show up?" asks Will.

"Nah, she freaked out and got the fuck out of there. I would've too, honestly."

"New magical?" asks Anja.

"Yeah, they're saying there's another new black mask in town," says Will.

"The paper says they scared off the guys from Surf 'n Turf by knocking them all over with magic, you know, like telekinesis or something, but no one's actually seen 'em yet, or even gotten their name. Kinda weird, another new magical showing up so soon after that Valkyrie chick. But I guess since they're acting so secretive, maybe they've actually been here for a while already? Dunno."

"You think they can, like, turn invisible or something?" asks Shane.

"Nah, magicals don't get two completely separate powers like that. If they're a telekinetic, they were probably just flying."

"Kinda sucks," says Alex.

"Seemed like things were starting to calm down after that Firestorm asshole got whacked, and Surf 'n Turf finally lost enough fingers to stop poking the Syndicate. Hope they don't start a gang war." They chew over the rumors for a little while longer. Some people glance at Cassie a couple of times, but thankfully no one asks her for an expert opinion. Later, though, while Alex is in the bathroom, Tyler comes over and sits by us.

"So, you wouldn't happen to know anything about this new black mask, would you?" he asks her quietly.

"Depends on why you're asking," she answers after a quick glance around. He shrugs slightly.

"I'm just worried. Don't wanna see you get involved in a gang war. Do you think there's gonna be one?"

"... I think that's up to Surf 'n Turf," she says after a moment.

"But I'm not worried. If they do start shit, they're gonna regret it."

"Yeah? What makes you so sure?" She carefully avoids even glancing at me.

"Let's just say, Firestorm didn't get offed by the Syndicate like everyone thinks." He chews on that for a moment.

"Well, if you say so, then I believe you. Just be careful, okay?"

"Sure." The school must have gotten at least some wind of the rumors, because we have an unscheduled DARE assembly a couple days later. We all snicker through the entire thing; even Alex jokes that the cringeworthy attempts by the police and other presenters to act cool makes her want to go join a gang right after school. I can't help but get a little excited by the thought, even though I know she's only joking.

I should probably let Ryan know that it's okay if he takes some time off and waits for the heat to die down, though, and I won't consider it an attempt to dodge his punishment. I find myself wishing I'd gotten to that sooner Friday night, when I get a call that AJ, Zach, and Ryan have been arrested by Valkyrie.