Meta (Book 3): Rise of The Circle (23 page)

“No, there isn't much more that I know about your metabands than you do, save one thing. If they are indeed all connected in some way, yours are the linchpin."

"I'm not sure what you mean by that."

"Do you remember The Battle of Empire City?" he asks.

If it weren't for the suit I'm wearing, I'm positive I would have started breaking out in a sweat. Of course I remember The Battle. Everyone remembers The Battle. Is he asking me because he knows who I am and that my parents died there?

"Of course," I answer, trying to make sure no emotion seeps through into my words.

"It was a silly question. Everyone remembers The Battle, of course. It's what changed our opinions about metahumans forever. After two of them destroyed half of a city, they were no longer something to be admired; they were something to be feared. That was the day we learned that even with the best intentions, they can cause more death and destruction than we could ever imagine.

“A lot of people forgot that feeling. They forgot the feeling of inadequacy, of powerlessness that the entire world shared that day. I was well into my military career by that time and was deployed to Empire City in the aftermath. The things I saw there dwarfed anything else I'd ever seen before or since in my time fighting for this country.

“That was when we all decided to put our foot down. That was when the government started planning for how to deal with this type of problem."

"And what happened?"

"Nothing. The Governor and Jones never came back. The other metahumans lost their powers. Some disappeared, some tried to turn their former status into pathetic reality television careers. Most importantly, though, people forgot. They forgot how they felt on that day when we saw two gods go head to head and take half a city with them. Funding dried up. The public lost interest in trying to find ways to fight a war against an enemy it had become convinced was never coming back.

“What very few thought about was what it meant that the deaths of The Governor and Jones were what brought all the other metahumans to their knees. No one put the pieces together and realized that it was the destruction of their metabands that muted all of the others. That is, until you arrived.

“You were the first, just like The Governor. And just like him, your arrival heralded the coming of all the rest."

I can feel a knot forming in my stomach as I begin to realize what he's saying and what it means. The Governor sacrificing his life ended up disabling all the other metabands because his were the first. His metabands were tied to all of the others, and when they ceased to exist, destroyed in the twenty-seven million degree inferno of the Sun, so did all of the other metabands.

"So if you think killing me would accomplish your goal of ridding the planet of metahumans, why spend all of this time explaining it to me? Isn't explaining how and why you're going to kill the good guy something they teach you not to do in like Supervillains 101?" I ask.

"Is that how you see yourself, as the good guy?" Charlie asks.

"I don't like to classify the world into little boxes like that."

"I'm glad to hear that. I agree completely."

"But you've tried to separate the world as metahumans and humans, as if we're less than humanity because of our abilities, abilities that you have yourself."

"I’m fully aware of the contradictions. Many see my group as the villains while many more see us as the heroes. Real life isn't always as black and white as people would like. I think that's something you're well aware of yourself. You've killed before after all, haven't you?"

"Only to save the life of an innocent victim, and that was an accident that happened before I learned how to control my powers."

"Ah, yes, of course. An accident. And how many accidents are the general public supposed to accept from metahumans every year? Just a few? Dozens? Hundreds? Where is the line there? Where do we start to calculate how many lives we're comfortable destroying in the name of allowing others to have this type of power?"

"If you've made up your mind already, then why are we still talking?" I say, my hands at my sides still, but slowly clenching into fists in anticipation of an attack.

"You still don't get it, do you?" Charlie says as he rises and walks back over to the rolling bar to prepare another drink. "How could I stand here and talk about how I want to stop the type of destruction caused during the first wave only to turn around and do the exact same thing myself? I haven't invited you here for a fight. That would accomplish nothing and only serve to contradict my goals. I haven't invited you here to kill you. I've invited you here to ask you to forfeit your metabands of your own volition."

"You want me to just hand my metabands over to you?"

"I don't want you to hand them over. I want you to join us in destroying them. You've seen the power our metabands possess, and you no doubt know by now that we have the ability to destroy them. But, by destroying the first pair, we'll effectively destroy every pair out there, including our own."

"And why would you want to do that?"

"To save the world. To stop another family from being ripped apart by a car being thrown into the sky and landing on a child twenty blocks away. It's not too late. We can go back to the way things were. Metahumans can be something that future generations only read about in history books, a strange blip on the timeline of humanity, but one that didn't threaten the entire future of our species as it does today.

"I understand that this is a lot for you to take in, and in the spirit of peace I'm going to ask you to take your time thinking about what I've just proposed to you. I think that if you do, you'll realize that you have the opportunity to change the entire world for the better with your decision. You might have power now, but doing this? Doing this would be true power. And true courage. Something a pair of metabands could never give you or anyone else.

"Think about it. I'll be waiting for you when you make your final decision," he says as he sits back down at his desk, putting his feet up again as he takes a gulp from his rocks glass.

I turn and begin walking out of his office and toward the window I came in through.

"Oh, and Omni?" Charlie calls to me as I open the door leading to the rest of the office building. "If you ever come back to Bay View City, it had better be to destroy your metabands. You don't want to see what happens if you decline our offer and think you can return. Consider this your only warning."

I
've made
the argument repeatedly to Michelle and anyone else who will listen that it's redundant for me to have to take a history class on metahumans. I'm already spending half my day training as a metahuman. Why do I need to sit through a class about it in regular school too? It's strange. I never imagined that I'd be wishing for something like a math class, but here we are.

Michelle's argument is twofold. The first reason being that I'm the brother and legal ward of one of the most well-known metahuman reporters in the world. It would be at best weird and at worst suspicious if I seemed to have absolutely no interest in metahumans. The class isn't especially easy to get into since so many want to take it, and turning down a seat in the class would raise more attention than Michelle feels comfortable with.

Her other reason is she thinks my knowledge of metahuman history isn't as good as I think it is. Of course I scoff at this, which leads her to giving me a pop quiz.

"Who was the fourth metahuman to become unmasked during the first wave?"

Uhhh ...

"Which professional sports league was the first to issue a ban on metahumans?"

Hmm ...

"Which first-wave metahuman held the world land speed record, and what was that record in miles per hour?"

Okay. So I haven't necessarily paid attention as closely as I should have all the times Derrick droned on and on about this stuff when I was ten years old. So what? That stuff isn't important when you've got your own pair of metabands. What use is knowing about some dumb world record from when I was a little kid when I know that I can personally break it myself any time I want?

The only consolation is that the class has a few other secret metahumans in it, people that I think I'm actually starting to be able to call my friends. There's a certain camaraderie, if you can call it that, between all of us. This is only intensified when we all have to sit through classes like this one, making faces at each other while Ms. Drew recites half incorrect facts about metahumans from a textbook that's close to being as old as I am.

After class, I'm heading for the door when Winston cuts me off at the pass.

"Learn anything new about these overrated false gods today?" he asks while giving me a knowing wink.

I laugh in return to be polite, but I'm still looking over my shoulder to make sure no one overheard him and somehow figured out through his sarcasm that we're both secretly metahumans. Midnight's paranoia is creeping into my own thoughts, yet again.

"Are you coming to my party tonight?" he asks.

"Umm, what party tonight?" I reply.

"Maybe you didn't hear me the first time. I'll try again. I know you can be kind of slow. Hey, Connor. Are you coming to
my
party tonight? Does that answer your question about 'what' party tonight?"

"Yes, it's
your
party."

"And they say you can't learn any new tricks," Winston says with a punch to my arm. Not a hard punch, though, a joke punch, the kind of punch a friend gives another friend, which is different from the punches I'm used to, which were previously from bullies and more recently from super-powered maniacs.

"Yeah, sure," I say while trying to figure out in my head if this is the first time I've actually been personally invited to a party by the person throwing the party.

"Cool. Eight o'clock. See you there," he says as he turns to leave for the next class.

"Wait, where do you live?"

"Off-campus apartments."

"You don't live on campus? Why? I thought we all had to live on campus?" I ask.

I don't even notice that a straggler has unintentionally crept up behind me on her way out the door. I'm not sure if she heard me and it looks like Winston isn’t either. He gives her a tight-lipped smile as she squeezes past the two of us.

"You've got to be more careful. Luckily, you're weird to begin with so she probably just thinks you're dumb."

"Well that's a relief."

"Steve will give you a ride there. He's got a car here, as long as you don't mind walking home. It's not far."

W
hen Winston said
he lived in an off-campus apartment, he failed to mention that, while that's technically true, he actually has the entire building all to himself. His family is in the real estate business, and they own the place. Michelle prefers to have all of us live on campus, but Winston managed to talk his way into being able to stay at his own place. He successfully argued that it'd look strange for him to live in a cramped dorm room when he could be living here, practically across the street from campus. Of course, that's total bull, but Winston's no dummy. He used Michelle and the academy's own paranoia about secrecy to help him skirt one of their own rules. Genius.

There's a bunch of reasons why they want all of us staying on campus, but one of the biggest ones is so they can keep an eye on us and make sure we don't do things exactly like what Winston is doing right now. I'm not sure how they expect us to act like “normal” teenagers, though, if they don't want us to find ways to break the rules without them knowing now and then. Of course, I also half expect that they're fully aware of Winston's little plan and still have eyes on us somehow. Maybe they understand that letting us do stupid things like this keeps us from doing even stupider things down the line when it matters more.

While I figured this would be bigger than a “small get together,” I wasn't expecting the type of party I find in front of me as Steve and I walk up to the building. There are people
everywhere
: people hanging out on the front lawn, people packing the multiple balconies lining the front of the building, people flowing into the backyard and pool.

"Connor! You aren't actually physically limited to leaving the campus after all," Winston says as he breaks off from a group he's talking to and gives me a hard clap on the back.

"Do people really think that?" I stupidly ask.

"No, not really. Not all of them, at least. I wasn't sure if you were going to show up tonight, though. You're the last person I would expect to make fashionably late entrances."

"Steve's car battery died before he came to pick me up, so any fashionable lateness can be chalked up to him."

"Ha! I'd tell him that, but it looks like he already found where the pool is."

I look over my shoulder and see Steve kicking his sneakers off before running toward the pool and yanking his shirt off with one hand right before he leaps into the air for a cannonball. Those already in the pool, and therefore already wet, cheer for him. Those standing alongside the pool's edge, all of whom were dry up until a second ago, are not as impressed.

"Here, I just grabbed this for myself, but it's all yours. I'll get another," Winston says as he pushes a red plastic cup into my hands.

"Oh, I don't really drink," I say.

"You're not driving tonight, and you've actually managed to make it off campus. One drink isn't going to kill you."

I hesitantly sniff the red liquid sloshing around in the cup.

"It's not poisoned. Trust me," Winston says.

What the hell,
I think to myself before I take a swig.

"Ugh, this is terrible," I say. "What is it?"

"Oh, come on! There's hardly even anything in it. It's mostly just fruit punch."

"That's what I'm talking about. It tastes like old candy mixed with pure sugar."

"Relax, it'll grow on you."

W
inston wasn't kidding
when he said I'd get used to the taste. After my third cup, I don't even notice it anymore. All of a sudden I'm either finally having a good time, kinda drunk, or both. Probably both. Winston cuts me off after that, whispering into my ear something about loose lips sinking ships. I have to ask him to repeat it three times before he finally just explains that I have to be careful about keeping my secrets secret.

It turns out that I turn into a real Chatty Cathy when I'm buzzed. I can't help it, though. All of a sudden my social anxieties are gone, and I'm having conversations with my classmates like it's completely normal or something. This is with my
real
classmates for the most part too, not just the other metas. I'd been so worried about my secrets that I'd barely spoken to most of them before tonight out of concern that I wouldn't be able to keep track of all the lies I have to keep. Now I realize that I do a better job keeping my secrets when I'm not thinking about them constantly. Who knew?

There's about a dozen of us in a circle all talking and laughing about the way Mr. Yancy pronounces the word “fusion” in chemistry class. The way he says the word rhymes with “onion” for some reason. I'm not doing much of the talking, but I'm still there.

A new person I don't recognize joins the circle and is introduced by a friend of hers as Ashley. She faces the circle and pivots around slightly on the balls of her feet, giving each of us a small wave as a means of introduction. Most of us give her a small wave back to say hi, including me. That's when I notice her wrist and feel my heart skip a beat. She notices me staring and the conversation slowly quiets down.

"Everything okay with you?" she asks me.

"You ... you're wearing metabands," I stammer out, feeling my face beginning to become flush.

"I am, so you'd better watch out," she yells at me as she assumes a mock fighting stance. Everyone else in the circle laughs, except me. They all notice that I'm not laughing, which seems to make them all laugh even harder.

"They're not real, Connor," Claire from chemistry class says to me. Ashley notices that I must still look very confused and steps forward to show them to me more closely and explain.

"They're fakes, obviously. If I were a metahuman, I wouldn't be hanging out with these losers," she jokes, drawing more laughs and a handful of mock protests. "I got them online. They're supposed to be super accurate looks-wise, obviously. I won't be picking up any cars with these on unfortunately."

She takes one off and places it in my hand.

"Wow, it really does feel like a real one," I say. She looks at me puzzled. Crap. I just did the thing that Winston was afraid of me doing. "I mean, from what I've read."

"Oh, for a minute there I thought you were going to tell me that you've actually held one in real life."

"Ha, no, no, of course not."

"I was going to say. From what I've heard, most metas aren't too eager to let someone else try their metabands on, even if they know they won't do anything, especially after that little trick that Iris girl pulled on that nerd who tore up Bay View City."

"Trick?"

"When she teleported away with them. I heard she put them on the moon."

"Mars, actually."

Ashley is giving me the same “how did you know that?” look as before.

"That's what I heard, anyway."

There's a familiar clap on my back again and Winston's voice.

"Connor here has a brother who's big in the metahuman news industry. Isn't that right?" he asks.

"Um, yeah," I say as he gives me a suddenly deadly serious look that tells me that I've got to be more careful about what I'm saying.

"Really? Who does he work for?" she asks.

"Um, connollyreport.com," I reply.

"Oh my God! You're kidding. That is, like, my favorite site. I'm not even kidding you. I have it set as my homepage."

"Connor here is being modest. His brother doesn't
just
work for them, does he, Mr. Connolly?" Winston says with a smile.

Ashley's eyes widen as the realization hits her.

"Wait, your brother is Derrick Connolly? Get out of here."

"Yeah, he is."

Ashley suddenly ignores everyone else standing in the circle and cuts through them to stand closer to me.

"And you're Connor Connolly? Like, the real Connor Connolly?"

"Umm, yeah," I say with a nervous laugh.

"I remember reading all about your story. How Omni saved you and that little girl in the woods that night. That was the first metahuman sighting in years and years, and you were actually there!"

"Yeah, I was."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"What was he like?"

I catch Winston out of the corner of my eye as he moves from our small group onto another, playing the host, but not before he gives me a look that seems to say, “Remember, don't be an idiot.”

"He was ... I don't know. Red?"

"Wow. I can't believe you actually met Omni."

"Well I didn't really
meet him
meet him. It was more like I just kinda saw him, you know?"

"Still. That must have been incredible."

"Yeah, I mean he was kinda incredible, now that you mention it."

I hear a throat being cleared behind me and see that it's Winston again as he walks past, another reminder not to lay it on too thick. I can't help it, though. It's nice to have someone asking questions and showing interest in me, even if they don't realize that it's me.

"I'm sorry if I'm like totally fangirling out. I'm just a big meta geek, as you've probably picked up on by now."

"I'm the last person to call anyone else a metahuman geek after living with Derrick my whole life. That guy is like a pocket protector with legs when it comes to geeking out about this stuff."

"Oh, right. I forgot that you and he were orphaned. That's why you live together, right?"

And just like that this conversation has gone from fun and flattering to awkward and weird. Usually I'm the one who does that, so it's actually kinda nice for someone else to step up to the plate for once.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have said that. I forget that these kinds of things happen to real people sometimes, you know?"

"I know what you mean. It's okay. Don't worry about it."

"So, do you know if Derrick is hiring any interns for the winter break?"

"Sorry, I have literally no idea."

"Hmm, well do you think you can ask him for me?"

"Um, yeah. Sure."

"Great!"

She stands staring at me with a goofy grin on her face. I can feel the awkwardness increasing as the length of time where neither of us is saying anything grows longer.

"Do you think you can ask him now?" she asks me.

Is she serious? I look at her eyes and can see that yes, she is absolutely serious.

"Oh, I'm not really sure if he's busy right now, you know?"

"Totally. I totally know ... but there's really only one way to find out."

She's totally, totally serious. What do I do? I don't want to be mean, but I also don't like being put on the spot like this. Should I just call Derrick and ask him? What would I even say? “Hey, Derrick, I snuck off of campus even though your girlfriend specifically told me not to, and now I'm at a party where I'm a little bit drunk and some weird girl won't stop asking me to ask you to let her work for you, so what do you think?”

I'm beginning to realize that Ashley's idea of awkwardness is out of step with the rest of the world's as she just stands there like a statue, waiting, with no sign of letting me off the hook. My hand reaches for my pocket to grab my phone. Am I really going to call Derrick right now? Maybe I can just pretend like I'm dialing his number and then say that there was no answer?

Just as I pull my phone out of the pocket of my jeans, I feel it buzzing. I look at the screen and see that it's displaying “Caller Unknown.” I used to see things like that and just assume it was some telemarketer, but I know better nowadays.

"Can you excuse me for just one minute?" I ask.

Ashley's expression barely changes as she waits. She doesn't take the cue to step back a little bit and offer me some privacy, so I turn to make some for myself.

"Hello?" I say into the receiver.

"Where are you?" Midnight asks on the other end.

Ah, saved by the masked vigilante.

"Um," I say as I consider lying for a moment before I realize how futile that usually is with him. "I'm at a party."

"Get to the rooftop of the parking garage a block south from your current position."

I should have known that, of course, he knows where I am already. He was asking more about
why
I am where I am. He's not mad at me for having snuck off campus, even though it's super against the rules. The fact that he's passing up an opportunity to yell at me means whatever is going on is serious. And when it's serious, he's not going to tell me anymore than what is absolutely necessary, especially over the phone. And from the sound of it, all that's absolutely necessary for me to know is that I get to that rooftop.

I hit the end call button without saying goodbye, remembering that he never says it anyway and feeling slightly proud that I got to end the call for a change.

It's definitely less than ideal to leave this party when I'm actually having a good time, but I'd be lying to myself if I didn't admit that I'm kinda excited to jump back into action. I have no idea what Midnight is up to, but these types of nights have been few and far between lately. Training is fine and all, and it's nice to be somewhere relatively safe during the day where I don't have to constantly look over my shoulder, waiting for some random attack, but neither is a replacement for a night of cracking bad guy skulls.

Before I slip my phone into my pocket, I feel it buzz again, and I look down to see a new text message, also from an unknown number.

Tell no one. You have 3 minutes.

Pretty safe to assume that one's from Midnight too. I hadn't planned on announcing to the entire party that I was leaving early to go meet up with my vigilante friend for some undisclosed mission, but I didn't think it would be a big problem to mention it to some of the other metas here. When I think about it, I realize that the only reason I feel that way is because I know it would make a few of them jealous. It's not malicious. It just feels good to be enviable once in awhile. It feels good, but maybe it's not
actually
good for me. That's the type of attitude that gets people in trouble, sooner or later.

It's also probably a bad idea since there are at least one or two people here who would want to tag along. They'd flat out insist. I know they would, and even if I said “no,” they'd try to follow anyway. I can't even imagine what the look on Midnight's face would be if I showed up at the agreed upon rendezvous point and just happened to have a couple of friends looking to come along with us.