The female Hero twirled her metal tonfa twice before returning it to the loop on her hip. She held her palms out in a gesture of peace, and I allowed my muscles to relax. Based on her body language, Sparrow didn’t seem interested in attacking me immediately.
“I’m here for you, Macro-Kinetic,” Sparrow said. “Kingfisher saw the video of you arresting those bank robbers, and he wants you to work for him.”
That was the third or fourth time that somebody had mentioned Kingfisher to me. I had only been on this planet for a few hours, and I was already very familiar with that name. I remembered seeing the words “Kingfisher Industries” written on various pieces of technology when I entered the prison. The bomb collars, blast doors, and turrets all carried Kingfisher’s symbol: a small bird with a sharp beak.
“I gotta know. Who’s Kingfisher?” I asked.
Though I couldn’t see most of Sparrow’s face, I could see a concerned look color her expression.
“He has amnesia,” Ryan explained.
Sparrow paused before saying, “Okay, Kingfisher is the leader of this country, though he’s better known as Governor Sebastian Sutton. More significantly, he’s also the only Level 3 Genius, which makes him the smartest man in the world by far.”
In short, Kingfisher made the trap that killed Ganymede and almost killed me. This fact certainly did not fill my heart with goodwill toward Kingfisher. I know this feeling wasn’t rational, but Ganymede died less than five minutes ago, and my breathing still had not stabilized from that brush with death. I didn’t express my anger out loud, since Sparrow spoke of Kingfisher with reverence, and I wanted to prevent any friction between us.
“I understand,” I said, taking a second to focus on my breathing and limit the anger rising in my chest. “Do you have a plan to get out of here?”
You could kill her, you know? She’s weak. It would be so easy.
That voice was really starting to annoy me. Did all superheroes have little psychos in the back of their heads telling them to kill people?
“Of course,” Sparrow said, and I could hear the smile in her voice. “I cleared a path back to the entrance. First, who are you?” She addressed this last question to Ryan.
“I’m Ryan Kovacs,” he said. “I’m not a murderer or a rapist, if that’s what you’re asking. I was arrested for felony drunk driving.”
“Is that all you were…” Sparrow began.
“Can we just go before somebody else winds up dead?” I asked harshly, cutting her off. “If you’re breaking me out, you’re breaking him out. Got it?”
“Someone died?” Sparrow asked, and the authentic concern in her voice quelled my anger somewhat.
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“A prisoner,” Ryan said.
“Does it matter? That just means this prison is operating correctly. Prisoners who break out are supposed to be killed, right?” I said.
“It wasn’t originally that way,” Sparrow said.
The three of us stepped into the elevator, and Sparrow used her tonfa to smash the external control panel before the doors closed. A few seconds of uncomfortable silence passed before I remembered the multitude of questions weighing on my psyche.
“What, exactly, is a Genius?” I asked.
Sparrow paused for a moment, trying to simplify such a complicated topic into just a few words. “A Genius is a type of mutant with heightened intelligence and a greater knowledge of the world. Since mutations manifest at the beginning of puberty, a lifetime of knowledge is forcefully funneled into a ten-or-thirteen-year-old’s head whenever a Genius is born. Many are driven insane by the process. A Level 1 Genius acquires the general knowledge of a particularly educated adult, though a Level 2 Genius - like me - gains perfect knowledge of one particular field.”
I wondered if that was the cause of Doctor Lazarus’s madness. Had he been driven insane by his awakening?
“What about you? What specialized knowledge did you gain?” I asked.
“Electromagnetism,” Sparrow said with a smile, and I knew that she would launch into a multi-hour rant on the subject if I let her.
We reached the top of the elevator shaft, and the doors opened. On the other side of the doors, a team of five men wearing tactical gear and wielding assault rifles stood at the ready. I jumped in surprise, taking an untrained fighting stance.
The soldiers bearing the letters KSF on their chest plates seemed just as surprised as us. A few of the assault rifles were raised to low-ready before one of the men shouted, “Hold fire! They’re with Sparrow.”
An acute sense of fear pressed down on my lungs, and I was breathing like I had just jogged several miles. The voices in my head were telling me that I had to kill them.
It’s a trap! They have spray bottles! If you don’t kill them RIGHT NOW, they’ll kill you!
The little psycho was right. Each of the soldiers carried a small spray gun on his belt, and one of the soldiers held a water rifle that was attached to a large canister on his back. Those canisters were filled with Mandeville Mist, I knew. If they were able to release that mist into the air, I’d have no chance.
“These two men are not a threat to the city,” Sparrow said diplomatically. “You have my word as a Hero.”
“Sir, what are your orders?” asked the man with the water gun.
“Move on. We have bigger problems than two escaped convicts,” the leader of the soldiers said.
We kept walking, unimpeded despite the presence of nearly a dozen armed men. Sparrow’s word carried weight, it seemed. Ryan and I were able to pick up the possessions we had on us when we arrived at the Chateau, though they were contained in clear plastic bags.
“Care to do the honors?” Sparrow asked me when we reached the last security door separating us from the outside world.
With perhaps a bit too much enthusiasm, I smashed the door down. The security door must have been incredibly sturdy, because it managed to stay on its hinges even as it flew open.
I stepped outside into the chilly afternoon air. Even though I had only been incarcerated for a few hours, I felt glad to be free once more. That short deprivation of my freedom was enough for me to appreciate it much more.