“Believe me, if your costume burned off. . . who said we’d be looking at your face?” Laughter accompanied her words, as did the hint of a blush. Across the table, a body in orange-and-silver snorted with amusement, while the others around the briefing table smiled.
Carrie tried not to be sullen, but it was very difficult. She crossed her spandex-covered arms more tightly across her violet-and-silver chest. The only good thing about the rest of her night was that she wouldn’t have to see the two lovebirds seated to her left interacting any more.
The door to the briefing room hissed open, giving her a respite from the flirting happening next to her. Sitting up a little more in her seat, showing respect for the silver-and-white uniform that had entered the room, she settled her mind firmly into her working persona.
It was time to stop being Carrie Vinson, part-time pottery artist, and time to start being Foresight, Ascendant superhero -defender of justice, peace and the citizens of Belle View City. Not everyone was born with the genetic potential to become an Ascendant. Not everyone who was born with the genes actually made the transition from normal to super. But whatever it was that turned a normal person into a real, live, spandex-outfitted superhero, she had it.
It also meant she had the responsibility — along with the seven other people in the briefing room — to use her abilities to protect and defend her fellow citizens from any number of extraordinary dangers. Sometimes it was an earthquake or a building fire; sometimes it was a bank robbery or a toxic chemical spill. Sometimes they had to fight a Rescindant: a former fellow Ascendant who had turned evil.
But nowhere in the Ascendant League’s Manual of Conduct did it say she was allowed to wallow in sullen jealousy over the close camaraderie of two of her fellow teammates. Rather the opposite (even if fits of sullen jealousy weren’t mentioned specifically). So she straightened up, pulled her mind into work mode, and gave her boss, Oversight, an attentive look. The fact that her arms were still jealously folded over the purple-and-silver plastron of her superhero suit was immaterial.
“Good afternoon, Ascendants,” their supervisor greeted them. He started separating the stapled printouts stacked in his arms, handing them out to each of the team members. “I hope you all got a good night’s rest, because it’s Friday night, and the weekends are usually busy. League surveillance suggests that Rescindants Dr Mockery and the Pincushion might also be looking forward to this weekend. The Mayor’s Educators’ Ball is tomorrow night. I hope you got your ball gown and tuxedo dry-cleaned this last week, Foresight, Steelhand.”
Carrie groaned. “Not again! We covered the Charity Ball last weekend. Why do we have to do it again?”
Oversight smirked. “Because both of you can do a decent foxtrot. Bomber never learned, Backhand is too big to blend into the crowd and Hindsight is even more touch-sensitive than Steelhand. And, as far as I know, the other ladies never even learned.”
“Actually, that’s not true,” Farshot, a.k.a. Valerie Romano, interjected, her brown eyes flicking flirtatiously towards Steel-hand. “I can do a passable foxtrot, and even a waltz or two.”
“I’ll keep that in mind for the next society ball,” Oversight said. He gestured at the printouts he had passed around. “Let’s focus on tonight’s assignments, shall we? Farshot, Bomber, we need you to focus on the Eastside; rumour has it the Pincushion’s minions have been nosing around the edge of town, somewhere between the industrial sector and the suburbs. It’s an unconfirmed rumour, but it’s all we have to go on right now. Nearsight, we still haven’t found any concrete evidence of a Quad crime syndicate link to the Pearson Shipping Company on our end of things. You’ll have to continue your undercover work a bit longer.
“Backhand . . .” Oversight paused, sighed heavily, and pinned the burly, black-clad Ascendant with a disappointed look. “You’re lucky we’re still short on replacement staff, because I’d put you on probation if I could. Next time you get into a street fight with a Rescindant, don’t throw a car at them. There was a perfectly good - and considerably cheaper -street lamp you could’ve torn off and used. As it is, your wages are being garnished for the cost of the repairs to the citizen’s SUV.”
“Citizen?” Backhand protested, visibly affronted by the word. “He was one of Dr Mockery’s minions! He was trying to get into his car and escape with the isotope last week. Just because I was efficient at ruining his escape method and in thwarting the Doctor from setting off his viral bomb . . . !”
“We have no concrete evidence that he was indeed a minion, so there’s no way for the League to consider him anything but an innocent bystander.” Oversight planted his silver-gloved palms on the table, facing down the younger man. “You have a very bad habit of overusing your super-strength, Backhand.”
Backhand grumbled, folding his arms across his chest.
Oversight swept his gaze over the other young men and women in the briefing room. “The Police Forensics and Public Justice Departments have requested once again that Hindsight visit their evidence lockers to do a scan of all items picked up during the week.”
“Once again, I’m stuck with the most boring, horrific job on the planet. Please tell me they didn’t pick up any bloody murder-scene weapons this week?” Hindsight, team healer and touch-sensitive clairvoyant, muttered ruefully.
“Sorry. The City Morgue has an unidentified piece of human bone they want scanned,” Oversight told him.
“At least you get hazardous duty pay,” Backhand grumbled.
Oversight continued. “Foresight and Steelhand, obviously you’re on Westside patrol. The League also wants you to stop by the ballpark tonight. The Belle View Batters are playing the Star City Novas. Don’t disrupt the game - the Batters have a chance of getting into the division championship. Don’t enter the stands; just do a couple of circuits of the concourses, meet and greet the citizens shortly after the game starts, then get on with your patrol.”
Steelhand’s blue-masked face twisted. “Ugh . . . photo-ops. Do I have to?”
Oversight sighed.
Steelhand wrinkled his lip. “Little kids are always trying to touch my mask. Why can’t Backhand do it? Or Bomber?”
“Because you’re partnered with Foresight, and because the two of you are very photogenic together.”
Carrie heard Valerie’s obvious sigh of disappointment.
Photogenic, sure . . . but not together, Carrie lamented. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Valerie’s silver hand slide under the table to sympathetically squeeze Steelhand’s blue thigh. She was all over him. It made Carrie sick. She sighed heavily. Then a thought occurred to her. “Oversight... uh ... why don’t Farshot and I switch partners?”
“Because you’re still mentoring Steelhand,” her supervisor returned dryly.
?
?But it’s been a month,” she protested. “Surely he’s got the hang of the city by now. At least enough to be switched to a new partner?”
“You don’t want to be my partner any more?” Steelhand peered at her.