Meta (Book 3): Rise of The Circle (8 page)

As if coming out of a trance, the guy shakes his head gently and looks up at us. A wide smile crosses his face and he rises from his chair to greet us.

"Connor Connelly, I'd like to introduce you to Winston Cliffe. Winston, this is Connor Connelly, also know as Omni." Before my hand is even halfway out of my pocket, Winston has grabbed it and is shaking it enthusiastically.

"Wow, Omni! It's great to know who you are. I mean, it's great to meet you and find out that you're you, that you're Omni I mean. Of course you're Omni; you know you're Omni. I mean that Connor Connelly is Omni, and it's great to meet Connor Connelly, you. It's great to meet you," he says. This is getting confusing really quickly, but I appreciate the enthusiasm and give him a smile right back. There's something about him that I like already.

"Things can get very confusing around here very quickly with real names and alter ego names, as I'm sure you can imagine. For the most part, we like to use real names whenever possible. It helps to keep everyone's feet on the ground, so to speak, and mitigates the chance that someone will use an alter ego name out in the real world during conversation," Michelle explains.

"But what about someone using a real name while someone's, you know, powered up or whatever?" I ask.

"It's less of a concern. If someone overheard another meta calling you 'Connor,' that doesn't give them much to go by as far as finding out who you really are. Someone calling you 'Omni' while out in the real world eating lunch? That's a different story. We also find that you're less likely to use an alter ego name for another meta out in the real world if you’re in the habit of only calling them by their real name when they’re out of costume. It really just comes down to habit, but that habit can be important," Michelle says.

"I read all about how you took down the Controller in Bay View City. Awesome stuff, man. Way to think on your feet," Winston says.

"Thanks. Most of that credit belongs to Midnight and Iris, though. I was just the human punching bag," I say.

"Well, whatever you were, it sounded like it was awesome," Winston says.

"Winston here has a very rare ability that we're still trying to find out more about," Michelle says, changing the subject.

"Yeah, when I first got these things I didn't think they even worked," Winston says, referring to the pair of gleaming metabands wrapped around his wrists.

"So what can you do?" I ask.

"Winston actually has quite a few unique abilities. The particular ability he’s working on now is especially interesting. The closest analog we have for describing it is that he's able to exert control over otherwise seemingly random outcomes," Michelle answers for him.

"Uhh ..." I say, struggling to make sense of what she just told me.

"What Michelle means is that I can basically control luck," Winston says.

"Control luck? What does that mean? How can someone control luck?"

"Take that stack of cards on the table," Winston tells me, motioning to the cards. "Put them in the machine to get them nice and random but don't look at them yet."

I do as he says and cut the deck of cards in half, placing each half on the plastic trays connected to the top of the machine. Once the deck is placed, the machine whirrs into action, quickly shuffling the cards and placing them neatly into the tray at the bottom of the machine in one tight stack.

Winston focuses his attention on the cards then closes his eyes. It's quiet for an uncomfortably long time, and I start to wonder if Winston has fallen asleep. Just then, his eyes snap open.

"Okay. Pick up the cards and look at them," he says.

I pick up the cards, looking at him again before I turn them over and seeing that he's already got that same grin back on his face.

I flip the cards over and start fanning them out on the table. The first card is an ace of spades. The second is a two of spades. The third is a three of spades, and so on.

It's not until I get to the face cards that the pattern breaks, when a king comes before a queen in the deck.

"Dammit, I was close," Winston says, laughing.

"So you're telling me this machine didn't put those cards in order?" I ask, thinking I know the trick.

"Technically, the machine did put the cards in order," Michelle interjects. "But Winston was able to exert enough influence over the randomness of the machine to put the cards into the order
he
wanted them to be in. This might not seem like much more than a simple magic trick, but what you probably didn't notice was
when
Winston rearranged the cards. He didn't focus on them until
after
they were already shuffled by the machine."

"Huh, I get it," I say.

Michelle stares at me, seeing right through me.

"Okay, I don't get it. Can you explain?"

"I've been able to influence situations as they happen since I found these bands, but the real trick is influencing them seemingly after the event has already passed," Winston says.

"Yeah, that's right. How the hell did you rearrange them after the machine had already shuffled them?"

"That's the part that we're still trying to understand," Michelle says. "Winston's abilities don’t seem to be strictly bound by the linear aspects of time."

My eyes go blank again. Winston notices this time and picks up in English where Michelle left off.

"What Michelle is saying is that I'm able to control certain situations that have already occurred as long as the outcome is not yet known. Once you picked up that deck of cards and looked at it, there would have been nothing I could do to change the order the machine placed them in, but as long as the outcome was still unknown and flexible, I could change it. Kinda like Schrödinger's cat."

"The one that plays the piano in Snoopy?" I ask.

"It's
Peanuts
, and no," Michelle corrects me. "Winston's ability is something we're still learning about. Right now he might not be able to do much more with it than what looks like some slight of hand, but we have literally no idea where it could go. Abilities like this are why we started this center and why we're helping metas understand and explore their powers. Who knows what Winston might be capable of with his abilities one day.

“Well, we've interrupted your study session long enough, Winston. Thank you for taking the time to show us what you're working on, though."

"No problem. I needed the break anyway. Don't want to risk working too hard here and painting the walls with my brains," Winston says.

I give a small laugh, but Michelle doesn't. I'm starting to realize that her lack of humor wasn't part of her cover after all.

"Nice to meet you," I say to Winston, who nods and waves before sitting back down at his table. I follow Michelle out of the room and close the door behind us to give Winston back his privacy.

Michelle glances down at her watch.

"Hmm. I didn't realize how late it's gotten. I think we have time to visit one more room today before I'm going to have to leave for a meeting."

"That's fine with me. I'm sure I can get myself into plenty of trouble exploring on my own."

"No, no, no, no, no. You're going to be heading back to the surface. We've already accelerated your onboarding process significantly. We'll pick back up tomorrow."

"Seriously? I was just kidding about getting into trouble. I'm not a little kid, you know. I won't do anything stupid," I say, almost having even myself fooled.

"It's not that, Connor. What you have to understand is that this facility, this entire endeavor, it's not just about heroics. It's not just about taking on as much as humanly possible, or metahumanly possible as the case may be. It's about making this, all of this, sustainable. You're still going to have to live your life as normally as possible for this to work."

"I've gone this long without needing any help keeping my identity a secret."

"It's not just about keeping your identity a secret, Connor. It's about keeping you tied to humanity. People who don't keep a foot in that world wind up like ..." She trails off, realizing she shouldn't finish her sentence.

"Like who? Just say it. Like Jones?" I ask.

"Like Midnight."

The statement catches me off guard. I'm well aware that Midnight hasn't always been the best role model to look up to as far as work-slash-life balance is concerned, but everything he's done has been for the greater good. I'm not sure if he's still out there or not, but if he is, I'd bet my life that that hasn't changed.

"Here we are," Michelle says, breaking the awkward silence and bringing me into the last room of the day.

This room is different from the previous ones, which makes me even more curious about what's waiting behind the other closed doors. This room looks more like an old pawnshop or garage than a state-of-the-art metahuman training facility. The walls are lined with shelves containing books, various machine parts, sparring dummies, and about a million other things that I can't even identify. There are random people throughout the room, moving things from shelf to shelf or working on a pile of spare parts at a workbench. It's total sensory overload. Someone could probably spend years in here going through all of this stuff.

"Hey there," says a voice from behind me that startles me out of my daydream.

I turn around to find someone who looks like they have actually spent years doing just that. It's a teenage boy, maybe fourteen, with thick, black-framed glasses that magnify his eyes. Under those eyes are a series of dark, baggy circles that don't look like they belong on the face of someone this young. He's wearing a pair of tight jeans with holes in both knees and a t-shirt that references some movie that I'm not clever enough to get.

"Hey, I'm Connor," I say.

"Oh, I know who you are, Omni. It's great to finally, actually meet you. I'm Trevor," he says. He doesn't actually extend his hand to shake mine, though, and instead just kind of stands awkwardly in front of me, seemingly waiting for me to pick up the loose thread of the conversation. I glance over to Michelle, hoping for her help in navigating this particular social minefield, but she's speaking in hushed tones on her cellphone. Her body language suggests that the call is important and that she's not to be disturbed. Great.

"I thought we weren't supposed to call each other by our alter ego names down here?" I ask, trying to make conversation.

"You're right. Just couldn't help myself this time. You're not going to tell on me, are you?"

Tell on him? Does he think this is a kindergarten?

"No, your secret is safe with me."

"Thanks."

And here's that awkward silence again. Trevor is just staring at me, looking me right in the eye and not breaking contact. I don't think he's even blinking. Michelle's still on the phone. Dammit.

"Soooo, what's all this stuff?" I ask.

"This stuff? It's just a bunch of random stuff."

This is even harder than I thought it would be. I'll take fighting another meta in the sky above a city over thirty more seconds of this conversation if it's going to be this hard.

"I can see that. I meant more like what is this room for?"

Trevor still just stares.

"Like, what do you do in this room?"

"Oh, you mean what are my abilities?" he asks.

"Sure, that's close enough."

"My meta name is Machine. When my bands are powered up, I can absorb and take on the capabilities of nearby machinery."

"Any machine?"

"I'm not entirely sure yet. That's why I'm down here. I'm going through a bunch of various makes and types of machines to find out where my weaknesses and vulnerabilities might lie."

"That's really interesting. Can you show me an example of what you're talking about?" I ask.

A wide smile instantly materializes across his face like he's been waiting for someone to ask him that his entire life.

"Sorry about that," Michelle says suddenly as she interrupts and inserts herself into the conversation. "The person I wanted you to meet is right around the corner here."

"Oh, Trevor here was just going to show me-"

"I'm sorry. We're on a very tight schedule. There will be plenty of time to meet everyone and learn all about them in the coming weeks, though, I'm sure."

Trevor is completely deflated.

"Next time?" I ask him.

His demeanor changes back, and he's all smiles again. I smile back and follow Michelle, who is already speed walking down an aisle of junk shelves. They seem to stretch on forever and are filled with just about everything you could imagine.

"This is our miscellaneous inventory room," Michelle says without turning back to look at me, assuming that I've caught back up with her. "Everything in here is free to use during off-hours and downtime, but it cannot be removed from the facility."

"Okay, but, um, what is it?" I ask.

"It's simply an inventory of, well, I guess just about everything. We've found a lot of newer metas who exhibit ... unusual powers and abilities. I'm sure Trevor explained a little bit about his ability?"

"Yeah. He was just about to show me when you came over."

"You owe me one then. He would have kept you there all day explaining how they work. The truth is, though, we still don't fully understand much about them. That's what this room is for: learning. For that reason, we have it stocked with just about everything you could imagine."

"I've noticed that. This place looks like a Wal-Mart had a baby with a mausoleum."

"Ah, here's who I wanted you to meet," Michelle says a half second before I round the corner.

The narrow shelves piled to the ceiling with crap give way to an expansive open space. The flooring is covered with blue padding like you would find in a gymnasium. The walls, or where I assume the walls would be if I could actually see them, are completely covered floor to ceiling with weapons: swords, maces, nunchucks, shields, knives, throwing stars, baseball bats, and a bunch of other stuff I don't even recognize but have pointy, sharp ends.

"Connor, this is Nathanial Brubeck. Nathanial, this is Connor Connelly," Michelle says.