Infiltration (11 page)

“First of all, those two years were a self-imposed exile; no one banished you, and you were always welcome here. I will admit, however, that we probably didn’t do a great job of conveying that.

“Second, I don’t think you have to worry about history repeating itself. You’re older — and hopefully more mature — so that any incident that occurs can probably be resolved without a battle royal. Plus, I’m going to go out on a limb here and assume that you don’t have any vendettas going with any of the current teen supers.”

“Not that I’m aware of,” I said, “although I’m still in favor of getting the entire thing over as soon as possible.”

Mouse rubbed his eyes and let out a frustrated sigh, then gave me an appraising glance. “Look, you went to the game last night with Alpha Prime, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

I nodded. “It was a lot of fun.”

“What did you like about it?”

I frowned, thinking. “The display of skill, the competitiveness, the rivalry. The clash of equals. Guys giving it their all — digging down deep and trying to come up with a way to win. The go-for-broke attitude when your team is on the ropes and everybody fights with the heart of a warrior to get back in the game.”

“And do you feel like you got all that last night? Like you got your money’s worth?”

“Sure.”

“Now, what if — instead of a typical basketball game — the two teams just line up in front of the basket at opposite ends of the court, and the players get, say, ten shots each. Then, at the end, the team that had made the most baskets wins. What would you think about a game like that?”

“Wait, you’re saying that each player just gets ten free shots at the basket?”

“Yes.”

“And there’d be no defense, nobody trying to block the shot?”

“Correct. No interaction between the teams whatsoever.”

“And then you just count the number of baskets made, and the team with the most wins?”

“That’s right. What do you think about that?”

“I think it’s the worst idea for a sport ever conceived.”

“So I take it you don’t like golf,” Mouse said, grinning.

“What?” I asked, confused.

“Forget it,” Mouse said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “As for the sport I described, you wouldn’t pay money to see something like that?”

“Nobody would! First of all, there’s no competition between the teams, which is the whole essence of sports. It’s just a bunch of guys shooting free throws — lackluster and boring! On top of that, the whole thing would be over in a flash! It probably wouldn’t last more than fifteen min—”

I froze, suddenly catching on to what Mouse was trying to get me to realize. Mouse himself just smiled, obviously pleased at having fulfilled his role as mentor by teaching me something.

“Okay,” I said. “I get it. Nobody wants to tune in just to see me race through an event at Mach speed.”

“Exactly. There’s very little entertainment value in it.”

“And if viewers aren’t entertained, they may not donate to the sponsored charities.”

“Or they may not tune in next time because we’ll have a reputation for being boring,” Mouse added. “Look, we both know that you’ve got game-changing abilities and you could probably get through whatever this event is tonight in a flash. The thing about game changers, though, is that they’re often most effective not by their actual use, but rather by the threat or potential of their use.

“Take the atomic bomb, for instance. Our country developed it, but we didn’t have to use it every time we came into conflict with another nation. Its mere existence was a game changer.”

I saw where Mouse was going. “So what you’re saying is, I should go slow tonight and give the audience a good show — regardless of how fast I could conceivably get through the exhibition — and not necessarily put everything I have on display because it’s not necessary.”

“More or less,” Mouse said, shrugging.

I just nodded, essentially agreeing to behave as suggested. I still wasn’t wild about participating in this thing, but I could certainly take one for the team in that regard.

Chapter 9

After getting everything off my chest, I had to admit that I felt better about participating in the exhibition. I still didn’t feel
great
about it, but definitely better. Mouse, however, was adamant that it could be a lot of fun if I just relaxed and tried to enjoy it.

Following our chat, Mouse got ready to go back to whatever he and BT had been working on when I showed up. Of course, I was free to hang around, but Mouse seemingly believed that idle hands were the devil’s workshop, and if I stuck around in his lab too long without a specific task to do, he’d eventually put me to work.

Normally, Mouse has one or two interesting things going on, so hanging out in his lab is usually a good time — even if he does make you get your hands dirty. However, there were a few errands I still needed to run, so I would be making my way to the exit soon. But before I left there was one thing I needed to do.

“Hey,” I said. “Where exactly did you guys move Li to?”

Mouse, who had turned his attention back to something on his worktable, looked up and then inclined his chin towards a set of floor-to-ceiling bookcases along a portion of one wall. I gave a brief nod of acknowledgment and then teleported.

************************************

The bookcases in question actually covered the entrance to a secret chamber, which is where I popped up. The place was cavernous, and while there were some tables and chairs, it primarily appeared to serve as storage. There was an endless array of boxes, crates, and bins, as well as an extensive amount of shelving that housed a voluminous amount of miscellany, salmagundi, and curios.

Glancing around, it only took me a second to pinpoint Li’s location: a body-shaped mass covered with a white sheet, lying on top of a worktable. I walked over and reached out to pull the sheet away from what I assumed was Li’s head, then remembered Mouse’s comments about giving Li a certain degree of privacy.

“It is okay, Jim,” said Li’s voice, emanating from above me. “You can look.”

Previously, Mouse had integrated Li with the computer system in his main lab, allowing Li to speak through the lab’s audio system. Apparently he had done the same thing in here.

“Thanks,” I said, pulling down the sheet just enough to uncover Li’s face. “How’d you know I was even in here?”

“I still lack visual perception, but Mouse has given me access to motion detectors, thermal imagery, and other devices located in this alcove that allow me to recognize when others are present. He said that I should know when someone was ‘sneaking up on me.’”

“How’d you know it was me, specifically?”

“You have a distinctive physiology — unique even among supers — and you visit me regularly. Thus, using the instruments I now have access to, I have learned to recognize your biological telemetry.”

I nodded, only half listening as I found myself staring in fascination at what would eventually be Li’s new face. (Actually it was his old face — Asian features, bald head, etc. — but Mouse and BT had done an excellent job in recreating the visage of someone they had never met in the flesh.) He looked exactly as he had the last time I’d seen him whole, which meant that he resembled nothing more than an ordinary teenager. Only his eyes, open and staring blankly at the ceiling, gave any present indication that there was anything unnatural about him.

I smiled, happy and thankful that my friend would, hopefully, be up and about soon.

“So, what’s the estimate on when you’ll be able to move into your new home here?” I asked, patting the android body on the shoulder.

“Mouse wishes to increase the inherent defenses of my body, so he is making some improvements to the synthetic epidermis, among other things.”

“What, the skin?”

“Yes. In human beings, it is the largest organ in the body and also serves as the first line of defense against such hazards as disease and the elements. The skin on my original body did much the same for me, but Mouse is of the opinion that he can enhance the abilities of my new epidermis without sacrificing its natural look and feel. He estimates three to four weeks before it will be ready.”

“So you could be on your feet in a month? That’s great! I can’t wait to show you around.”

“Unfortunately, while I may be able to ‘move in,’ as you put it, in a month, I will probably need an additional month before I am ready to go out in public.”

“Why’s that?” I asked, curious.

“Because of my new body. Although it resembles my old one, it is not an exact replica by any means, and I will need time to orient myself to it and perhaps make adjustments in terms of balance, internal processes, and the like.”

“In other words, you’re going to need time to break in your new body, like a new pair of shoes.”

“Exactly.”

“Then I look forward to showing you around in
two
months’ time,” I said.

Chapter 10

Li and I spent another thirty minutes or so chatting, which primarily consisted of me talking about the things going on in my life — training with the other super teens, the upcoming exhibition, etc. For the millionth time, I felt bad for him being constantly cooped up in Mouse’s lab. Thus, as always, when I got ready to leave, I promised to come visit him again soon.

I teleported back out into the main lab, wanting to say goodbye to Mouse and BT before I left. This time when I appeared, however, there was another Alpha League member in the room: Vixen. I immediately and automatically raised my mental and empathic defenses.

Vixen was a Siren, a stunningly beautiful empath with the power to manipulate the opposite sex. She’d never really given me cause for alarm, but I had a natural tendency to keep my guard up around her.

She was actually standing off to one side of the lab when I appeared, talking to Mouse. Whether she sensed my entrance empathically or not I didn’t know, but almost the second I popped in, Vixen turned towards me. She seemingly excused herself from the conversation with Mouse, then made a beeline for me. Face resolute and luxurious red hair bouncing, she walked with a determined and tenacious stride that told me that she had something very serious on her mind.

“You,” she said as she got close to me, almost hissing. “We need to talk.”

Gripping my arm at the elbow, she practically frogmarched me to a far corner of the room. Once there, she let go and crossed her arms in front of her.

“Do you recall a little chat we had before you left for the Academy?” she asked in a hushed tone.

“Yeah,” I whispered in reply. “You asked me to do well so that I could basically come back here and be Mouse’s assistant.”

That wasn’t exactly true. Some tests I’d taken to determine my academic placement level had shown me to have a high IQ. That being the case, Vixen had wanted me to come back from the Academy a scholastic genius capable of working with Mouse on some of his projects. Long story short, Vixen had been concerned that Mouse wasn’t having enough intellectually stimulating conversations, which might result in him becoming bored and leaving the Alpha League (and her).

“Yes, so why is
she
here?” Vixen asked, nodding in the direction of BT.

“Because you asked me to become the intellectual peer of a guy whose IQ has more digits than my zip code! I couldn’t fill that order, so I found someone who could.”

“No, you didn’t just find ‘someone.’ ‘Someone’ would have been a wizened little man with a beard down to his belly — maybe brilliant and just a little bit absentminded, but charming nevertheless. ‘Someone’ would have been some nervous nelly with freckles, unkempt hair, beer-bottle glasses, and a massive overbite. ‘Someone’ would have been a nerdy klutz with ten degrees who wore pocket protectors and had never been on a date. ‘Someone’ would have—”

“Okay, I get it,” I said, cutting her off.

“Well, you didn’t get any of those types of people. What you showed up with was a bikini model in a lab coat.”

“Why are you getting all bent out of shape about this
now
? I made the intros way back around the time I left for the Academy, and BT’s been coming around here for weeks at this point. What’s changed to put you on the warpath?”

“That,” she said, tilting her head towards Mouse and BT, both of whom had just burst out laughing at some joke between them. Still chuckling too intensely to speak, BT laid a hand upon Mouse’s chest, as if needing his support to stay standing. There was a harsh intake of breath from Vixen, who curled her fists at her side. Empathically, I felt jealous anger rolling off her in waves.

“They’re getting just a little too chummy in my opinion,” Vixen continued, clearly vexed. On their part, Mouse and BT continued chortling, paying virtually no attention to us, which wasn’t particularly surprising. Despite the intensity of our conversation, Vixen and I were still practically whispering.

“I think you’re blowing this way out of proportion,” I said. “First of all, BT’s a clone. That’s not a real person over there.”