Infiltration (18 page)

Scanning the inside, I recognized quite a few of those present. Vestibule sat at a booth near the front window, with a small entourage of what I assumed were other models. Despite being blatantly vapid and vain, she was being overtly courted by a handful of guys. On the table in front of her sat the trophy she had received for winning her competition with Actinic.

Not too far away, Actinic himself was sitting at a table with some friends, smiling and chatting animatedly. Apparently, losing the trophy hadn’t disturbed him to any great degree, and with good reason. The judges were so impressed with what he’d done that — after stripping him of his victory — they’d made up a “Most Ingenious” award just for him, presenting him with a certificate at the end of the show.

Failing to see my own tight circle of friends inside, I turned my attention back to the parking lot, which contained a considerably larger population at the moment than the restaurant interior. Aside from brief forays inside to get food and drinks, these people seemed perfectly content to hang around outside. Thankfully, a couple of teens with weather-related powers had seen fit to exercise a little discretion, resulting in an Indian summer — at least for tonight. There also seemed to be a bit of spillover from the exhibition, as I saw more than a few instances of teen supers putting their powers on display: speedsters racing around the block, metal rods being bent with bare hands, and so on.

After a few minutes, I finally saw Sarah sitting on the hood of Smokey’s car on the far side of the parking lot. Although I didn’t immediately see Electra or Smokey, I assumed that they were close by and started making my way over.

I was about halfway there when I came across Dynamo. He was standing with a small group of other teens, including a few from the Alpha League, discussing the latest blockbuster action flick.

We hadn’t really had a chance to speak after the competition, as the broadcast had been coming to a close. I’d only had the opportunity to speak a few congratulatory words to him on-camera, and I don’t think either of us had hung around for long following that. Concerned that I might have sounded curt before, it seemed like a good time to let him know that my earlier congratulations were sincere.

I waited outside his circle of friends, standing in a conspicuous manner. After a few moments, he seemed to notice me; he excused himself from his group and came towards me.

I extended a hand to him, which he took. However, he cut me off before I got a single word out.

“That wasn’t how it was supposed to go down,” Dynamo said.

“Huh?” I muttered, confused.

“The competition,” he said as he let go of my hand. “
You
were supposed to win.”

I shook my head, perplexed. “I’m sorry. You lost me.”

“Look, I’ve seen you in action, watched clips of you going through the training exercises. You’re a guy who likes to win.”

“I suppose,” I said, not sure where he was going with this.

“And there’s nothing wrong with that. We all like to win. But tonight was about charity, so I was willing to make a deal with you. I’d throw the competition if you’d agree to put on a good show.”

“What do you mean, a ‘good show’?”

“Just give the people their money’s worth — make it last.”

“In other words, no teleporting.”

“Among other things, but yeah. Unfortunately, you showed up late so I didn’t get a chance to see if you’d be on board. But it turns out that you were, even without having a conversation about it.”

“And you figured that out just from the fact that I didn’t teleport?”

“That, and your helping me to win.”

I shook my head, feigning confusion. “I don’t what you’re talking about.”

“Dude, please,” he said, rolling his eyes in mock exasperation. “Don’t blow that smoke in my direction. I can hit a pinhead with a grain of sand from two miles away. Throwing that coin into a slot is something I could do with my eyes closed. It was supposed to miss by a hair’s breadth, but you made it go in.”

I was silent for a moment, and then finally spoke. “Like you said, it was for charity. I wanted to give the people a good show.”

Dynamo nodded in agreement, looking at me in a way that suggested he was seeing me in a new light — or maybe for the first time.

“You know,” he said, clapping me on the shoulder, “maybe Kid Sensation isn’t the arrogant, pompous, know-it-all that people say he is.”

“And maybe,” I said with a grin, “Dynamo isn’t the smug, vainglorious snob who thinks he’s superior to everyone else.”

Dynamo laughed heartily at that.

“Later, man,” he said as he shook my hand again and headed back towards his friends.

“Hey,” I said, my voice making him spin back around towards me. “Where’s your award?”

Like Vestibule and the other winners, Dynamo had received a trophy. As befitting the winner of the night’s main event, it had been monstrously huge — about as tall as me.

“I left it at home,” Dynamo said. “It just seemed like bad form to bring it here and rub it in your face, loser.”

Now it was my turn to laugh. Despite all the talk about Dynamo and I being rivals of some sort, it seemed much more likely that we were going to be friends. Good friends, in fact.

Lost in thought about how the rumor mill had gotten something so wrong, I continued walking absentmindedly towards Smokey’s car. I had barely gone three steps when someone behind me spoke.

“Excuse me,” said a clearly feminine voice in a tone, manner, and direction that made it obvious that the speaker was addressing me.

I turned around to see who it was…and my heart skipped a beat.

It was the girl from the triathlon.

Chapter 20

I had rarely thought about her over the past few hours — had practically forgotten about her, in fact. But seeing her now, standing right there in front of me, brought on an unexpected surge of emotion. I felt a schoolboy giddiness coming over me as I looked at her, and I found myself amazed that I had thought about anything other than her recently. I felt a stupid, idiotic grin forming on my face but found it impossible to stop myself.

“You’ve changed,” she said matter-of-factly.

I glanced down at my clothes. I was wearing a blue golf shirt and a pair of khakis.

“Yes,” I finally acknowledged, still grinning, and then struggled to find something meaningful to add. “So have you.”

It was true; she was no longer in her costume. Instead, she was wearing sandals, black palazzo pants, and a lacy, white, short-sleeved top that hung ever-so-loosely off her shoulders.

“No,” she said with a shake of her head. “Your appearance.” She swirled her hand around her face for emphasis.

Her voice had a magical quality to it, something hypnotic. And, although her English was perfect, I thought I could detect a slight accent, but I wasn’t sure.

“Oh, that. Yeah, I did,” I said. I frowned, as something suddenly occurred to me. “Wait a minute; how’d you know that?”

Basically, although I kept having weird feelings around this girl, I had never seen her before. Still, she somehow had connected my Kid Sensation countenance with my real face.

“Your aura,” she said.

“My what?”

“Aura. There’s an…atmosphere, you might say, that I can sense around people. It’s reflective of their nature — their personality — and stays the same no matter what they do.”

“So you can use it to recognize or identify people — even shapeshifters.”

“Precisely.”

“Interesting. So, what exactly does my aura look like?”

She stared at me for a second, seeming to look at me, through me, and around me all at once.

“It’s a bright, pulsing light, shifting through a wild kaleidoscope of colors. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen another like it.”

“I thought they were all different anyway, like fingerprints, and that’s how you used them to identify people.”

She gave me a patient, understanding smile that made me feel like I was a kid failing to grasp a basic concept in school.

“I probably didn’t explain myself very well,” she said. “Most auras only reflect one or two colors, and will shift through various shades of them, with the intensity of their light staying the same.”

“But if they change shades, how are you still able to identify one as belonging to a particular person?”

“Some of the underlying features always stay the same, so I can still associate a certain aura with a specific person. It’s similar to the way you might be able to identify a woman, even if she changes the color of her lipstick, eye shadow, or blush.”

“I think I understand,” I said. “But my aura is different, you say?”

“Yes. Yours, as I mentioned, oscillates with diverse coloration.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“I don’t know. It’s something outside my experience, so it never even occurred to me that someone could have such an aura.”

“So, I’m unique?” I asked, smirking.

“Apparently so. I guess that’s why you’re known as Kid Sensation.”

Normally, I don’t pay attention when people call me that. It wasn’t a name I personally picked; it’s a tag the media slapped on me because of my power set. When this girl said it, though, it was like I was hearing it for the first time — and I discovered that I really,
really
liked it.

“And what do they call you?” I asked.

She looked mildly surprised for a second, but then recovered. “I’m sorry. I never introduced myself, did I? They call me Atalanta.”

I burst out laughing.

“Now that,” I said, chuckling, “is a very fitting name.”

“So, you know the story,” she said.

“Of course. Legendary female warrior, unable to be bested by any man.”

She smiled, seemingly pleased that I knew the origin of her namesake.

“After today’s triathlon,” I continued, “I don’t think anyone would argue that it doesn’t suit you.”

“Thanks.”

“What team are you with, by the way?”

“The Argonauts.”

I raised an eyebrow at that. Argo was a small, isolated island nation that seldom dealt with the outside world. One of the few interactions that it had with other nations concerned petroleum production. Argo’s territorial waters were apparently rich in oil and gas (not to mention a few other minerals), and the country — as a whole — was extremely wealthy.

When the extent of Argo’s oil and gas reserves had first come to light three decades earlier, an aggressive world power had sent a fleet to essentially conquer the island. That’s when everyone first learned that Argo had its own team of supers, and they were both powerful and formidable.

There were only three of them — two men and a woman — but they had no trouble beating back the aggressor, which lost a score of battleships, aircraft carriers, and other vessels. No one had dared try to invade Argo since.

“I didn’t realize that the Argonauts cared for this kind of competition. The exhibition, that is.”

She shrugged. “It’s good for us to get out and see the world.” She then gave me a very serious stare. “And for the world to see us.”

I understood without her having to say anything else. Atalanta’s presence and participation here was for more than just charity. Her dominance at the triathlon was meant to show the world that Argo was still protected by powerful supers, with more coming up through the ranks.

“So,” I said, trying to keep the conversation going, “how many super teens do the Argonauts have?”

That one got me another blatantly hard stare, although Atalanta said nothing. I should have realized that that kind of information would be confidential. As an awkward silence started to build, I racked my brains trying to come up with something else the two of us could talk about.

“Well, is this how you normally meet guys?” I asked. “You come up to them and offer to tell them about their aura?”

“No. No, I—” She stopped unexpectedly, eyes going wide. “I’m sorry, I almost forgot.”

“Forgot what?” I asked.

“Please,” she said, looking around warily. “Can we speak privately?”

I shrugged. “Sure.”

She didn’t really reply, just rose straight up into the air. I watched her in surprise; I hadn’t even known she could fly. Around us, a few people took note of her departure, and then went back to their respective conversations. (She wasn’t the first person to take to the air tonight from the parking lot.)

I was on the verge of flying up after her, when I realized how conspicuous that would be. I looked over towards Smokey’s car, and this time I spotted Electra. She was talking to Sarah and didn’t seem to have spotted me yet — she probably didn’t even know I was there — but the last thing I needed was for her to see me flying off with some chick she’d accused me of drooling over. I looked up at Atalanta, wrapped her in my power, and teleported us to my school.

We appeared in the school courtyard, near an aging, rusting lamppost. Suddenly in unfamiliar surroundings, Atalanta went into a fighting stance, eyes unexpectedly glowing with silver light.