Retroactivity Page 8

  “That doesn’t even make any sense.” Asclepius hastily rose from the couch as Keystone started to get up. “Fine, fine, a shirt. You just don’t want another woman scoping out my body.”

  “I don’t want another woman to have to deal with your rampant ego, is what I don’t want.”

  “Solidarity, sister,” said Mimic.

  “You’re not a woman,” Keystone told him. “And before you shift, ‘sometimes’ doesn’t count.”

  “You don’t know!” Mimic protested. “I could secretly have been a woman all along, and just pretended to be a guy beneath it all to avoid the rampant sexism we all face.”

  “Well, have you been?”

  “No.”

  “Then no solidarity from you.”

  “Harsh, mem-sahib. Harsh.”

  “She’s on her way up,” Foresight announced. “Masks if you’re so inclined.”

  “Is she masked?” asked Keystone.

  “Yes, for the first part.”

  “Stop telling me about things that haven’t happened yet! I want to experience life in order!” Keystone stomped off as Asclepius re-entered the room, now clad in a shirt and a hooded cloak.

  “That’s a good look with the jeans,” said Mimic’s voice from somewhere over by the wall. “You look like you half-assed a wizard costume to take your little brother trick-or-treating.”

  “Says the man who’s dressed as a wall.”

  “You’re talking to the air,” said Mimic. “You sound crazy. A crazy wizard. You’re basically like a homeless person now.”

  A knock at the door interrupted the conversation. Keystone, now wearing her slate-grey mask, strode to the door and opened it to reveal a striking figure. At 6’3”, with the crest of her helmet rising another two inches above that, the Golden Ruler practically filled the doorway. She stood at attention, gleaming in golden armor, with her spear planted on the ground next to her.

  Asclepius let out a low whistle, then raised his eyebrows when Keystone shot him a look.

  “What? She's an impressive figure. Draws the eye. That's what Sight was saying yesterday, and you didn't glare at him.”

  “Come in, please,” said Foresight, standing up from his chair. Asclepius rose as well once he realized that he was the only one seated. “Welcome. I'm Foresight, nominally in charge here.”

  “Thank you,” said Golden Ruler, shaking his hand. “Call me Golden.”

  “We can go by real names if you'd like,” offered Keystone.

  Golden shook her head. “I'd rather not just yet.”

  “Please trust that I can conduct basic pleasantries,” Foresight said mildly. A text wave popped up in Keystone’s vision: I've mapped out the ideal path for this conversation. Let it happen. Keystone flushed, and was glad that the mask hid it from everyone else.

  Seated, Golden lounged with a leonine grace. She managed to make her armor look comfortable and flexible, while at the same time giving the illusion of being able to pounce at a moment's notice. Compared to her, Keystone and Asclepius appeared stiff and ill-at-ease. Only Foresight matched her attentive lounging.

  “So where would I fit in?” Golden asked after the initial small talk was done.

  “Front and center,” said Foresight. “You'd be taking over a portion of my role.”

  Indicating each of them in turn, he continued, “We're seer, healer and shield. We need a central figure to draw focus. Right now, that's me in my bright white and gold.”

  “And why don't you want it to keep being you?” asked Golden. Keystone held her breath, afraid that Foresight would admit that he didn't want a new teammate at all.

  Whatever his feelings on an additional teammate, though, Foresight was clearly determined to give this potential new recruit a fair shot in the interview. “I'm not eye-catching enough, and I'm doubling up on roles. Between the two, Keystone was shot in the shoulder earlier in the week, and we'd like to prevent a recurrence of that.”

  Golden’s mask remained impassive, but her voice was filled with curiosity. “Can I see?” She sat forward in her chair before checking herself. “Sorry, is that inappropriate? I've never seen a bullet wound before.”

  “And you won't now, either,” said Asclepius with pride.

  “I'm afraid he's right,” said Keystone, tugging the collar of her shirt wide at one shoulder. “There's not even a scar. You're basically going to have to take our word for it.”

  “And you healed that?” Golden asked, turning toward Asclepius.

  “I did,” he said, preening a bit. “Not so bad at what I do.”

  “He's there for when things go wrong,” Keystone said. “Mostly, they go right.”

  “And we think they'd go more right with you there,” said Foresight. “We'd publicize your ability, talk it up in the news every chance we got. So people would know what they were facing, know that if they hurt you, they'd feel it too. That way, when we walk in, their eyes snap to you, but they hesitate. We take advantage of that pause.”

  “What if they find a way around my ability? Or decide to sacrifice someone to take me out entirely?”

  “If that were going to happen, I'd see it first. We'd stop it from occurring.”

  “Hm,” said Golden. She was quiet for a moment. “So tell me about your fourth member.”

  “There's only—” Asclepius began, but fell silent as Golden turned to stare at him through her mask.

  “A show of trust, is it?” asked Foresight. “Very well. Mimic?”

  “Boss,” said Mimic, appearing where there had previously been only wall. Golden started visibly.

  “Meet Mimic,” said Foresight. “Illusionist, subclass Personal. Can look like anyone, or nothing at all. He's our ace in the hole.”

  “How do you mean?” asked Golden.

  “If people know the team has three members, they're not looking for an invisible fourth,” said Mimic. “I can disable adversaries from behind, masquerade as someone else’s telekinetic augment, even pose as another member of the group if they're off somewhere else.”

  He briefly shifted into Keystone's likeness. “I may not have her shields like this, but they don't know that. So I can bluff. I'm a whole bag of tricks.”

  “Clever,” said Golden. She sat for another long moment, thinking. Finally, she turned again to Asclepius. “And you can heal any damage that occurs?”

  “Like it never even happened,” he confirmed.

  In the first show of hesitation she'd displayed, Golden slowly reached up to remove her mask. “How about this?”

  The left side of her face was perfectly normal, well-formed and conventionally attractive. The right side, however, was marred by horrific scarring stretching from chin to forehead, from nose to ear. The entire room stared, except for Foresight, who simply waited for her to speak.

  “I was attacked by a dog when I was four,” she explained after a moment. “One hundred and forty seven stitches. That was when they discovered my augment, too. The dog’s face was just as torn open as mine was.

  “And poor Dr. Patel,” she continued. “That man sewed me up, feeling every needle puncture in his own face as he did it. My parents said he never flinched, even here.” She tapped the spot next to her eye, where the scarring almost touched the corner.

  “The nurse just stood by with gauze, mopping up his face any time it looked like the blood was about to drip. He wouldn't even take any painkillers. He said it would be too distracting.”

  A brief silence followed before Golden spoke again. “So. Can you fix this?”

  “Oh.” Asclepius shook himself. “I—no. I don’t actually heal. I reset. So I have to learn you first. Once I have the template, I can put things back the way they were, but I can’t fix anything prior.”

  “Ah.” Golden put her mask back on. “Ah, well. It would have been nice.”

  An awkward quiet hung over the room before Foresight said, “It’s good that you have your own place.”

  “Sight!” admonished Keystone. He opened his mouth
to speak, but she overrode him. “I don’t care! Let her say it!”

  To Golden, she said, “Even though Asclepius can’t fix your face, would you like to join our team?”

  “I would,” said Golden, looking slightly confused at the exchange that had just taken place. “And yes, I have my own place. Why?”

  “Foresight, Keystone and I live here,” said Asclepius. “We could make room for you if need be, but if you’re already situated, then there’s no need.”

  “Welcome to the team,” said Keystone. “You’ve just seen everyone on our best behavior. Now be prepared for how we are when we let our guard down.”

  “Slightly ominous,” said Golden, laughing. “So when does that start? For that matter, when do I start?”

  “Immediately,” said Asclepius. He let out a long burp.

  Keystone threw a book at him. He dodged, letting it bounce off of the couch. “What? You warned her.”

  “Seconds ago! You couldn’t even have given her ten more seconds of normalcy!”

  “This is normalcy!”

  Mimic turned to the Golden Ruler. “Yeah, so. It’s pretty much always like this. You’re, what? Mid-20s?”

  “Twenty-four, yes,” she confirmed.

  “They’re both nineteen. You know how it is, da? You’re probably still young enough to be actively horrified by how you behaved at that age.”

  Golden looked uncertain, and Mimic backtracked. “No?”

  “Not really,” said Golden. “I mean—I just never really had that kind of relationship with anyone.” She gestured at the two, who were now locked in some sort of wrist-twisting strength competition.

  “What, badly concealed flirting?”

  “No! I just meant—is that what that is?” Keystone now had Asclepius in an arm lock, and Asclepius was turning in a circle and attempting to hook a leg behind her knee to knock her off-balance. Foresight smoothly moved an end table a foot to the side just as the two collapsed to the ground, their heads narrowly missing where it had been.

  “Yeah, no question,” said Mimic. “Look at them, fraulein. They’re practically making out in front of us. If we weren’t here, this would end in sex, no question.”

  Although Golden’s face was covered by the mask, a red flush crept out along her neck. Mimic noticed, and his eyebrows rose.

  “Sorry, hadn’t realized that was going to be a line for you. You were pretty unflappable during the interview, so I…” Mimic realized he was starting to ramble. “Forget I said anything.”

  “No, it’s okay,” protested Golden. “I’ve been kind of sheltered, I guess. It’s not a problem. I just didn’t expect you to be so frank about it.”

  “Madame, I am nothing if not adaptable. I will be as you need me to be.”

  “Be any way you like! I need to adjust. I want to, for that matter. I’d like to—” She hesitated, afraid of sounding desperate.

  “—fit in?” Mimic finished for her. “Believe me, that I understand completely. Don’t worry. You’ll do well here.”

  “You’ll see that tonight,” said Foresight, butting into their conversation. “We’re stopping an illegal chop shop at just past eight PM.”

  Golden looked confused. “Why don’t we just go do it now?”

  “That would be breaking and entering,” said Foresight. “Can’t go until we have evidence of a crime. Tonight, we can witness a carjacking on our way to dinner and then follow them back to the shop. That’s within our purview.”

  As Golden started to speak again, Foresight sighed and cut her off. “In order: the woman who gets carjacked is shaken but unharmed. She gets her car back in the end with only minor damage. They can’t lose us; I know where they’re going. Similarly, they won’t see us following them. Yes, we have to follow them to show a connected string of events. Yes, it is absurd to have to do things this way when I am infallible. Yes, I’m always like this.”

  Foresight paused, eyeing Golden, then clapped his hands. “Excellent.” He turned and walked away.

  “Only thing worse than a teenager who thinks he’s always right is one who actually is,” said Mimic.

  “So if he knows the future,” Golden said slowly, looking after Foresight, “does it even matter what I do?”

  “If it’s free will you’re worried about, don’t sweat it,” Mimic told her. “Babushka nadvoe skazala. Foresight knows all of the futures, is all. He’s described the one he wants to see happen. If you don’t like it, you can buck his plans.

  “That said, I’d recommend trying that outside of a combat situation. Lower stakes and all.”

  “I suppose,” said Golden, still looking uncomfortable.

  “You nervous about this? The fight tonight?” asked Mimic.

  “The fight? No,” responded Golden. Her body relaxed as she spoke, shedding the stiffness and hesitancy and slipping back into the casually alert pose she’d adopted during the interview. “I’m good with fights. That’s a situation I understand. I’m looking forward to tonight.”

  “Oh,” said Mimic, “speaking of, you’re going to need to spend a couple of hours with Asclepius before that.”

  “What? Why?” The stiffness immediately returned to her shoulders. She sneaked a look at Asclepius, now sprawled on the couch and staring at the ceiling, presumably on his wave. “What does he need from me?”

  Mimic laughed. “It’s what you need from him. Like he said earlier, he’s got to learn you to restore you. If anything goes wrong tonight, you’re gonna want to have that ready to go.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Golden walked toward the couch. “Asclepius?”

  “What’s up?”

  “What do you need to do to be able to heal me?”

  Asclepius sat up languidly. “Close physical contact. Come here.” He patted the couch cushion next to him.

  Golden stood where she was, uncertain. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah, I’m not joking. In fact, it goes faster if you’re naked.”

  Behind him, standing in the hallway, Keystone shook her head no.

  “I don’t know about that,” said Golden.

  “If it’d make you more comfortable, I can get naked, too,” offered Asclepius.

  Keystone shook her head even more emphatically.

  “I don’t think us both being naked in the living room would really make me more comfortable,” said Golden. She wasn’t sure if Keystone was telling her that Asclepius was lying or, given what Mimic had said about their flirting, simply warning her off.

  “What, you want to go to my bedroom?”

  At that, Keystone spoke up. “Schlep, see if you can avoid chasing Golden off on her first day.”

  Asclepius twisted around to face her. “What? It is faster that way. I’m not lying.”

  “Yeah, but you are being creepy. Knock it off.”

  “Fine. Like it makes a difference, anyway,” muttered Asclepius. He patted the cushion next to him again. “Here, sit. This is gonna take at least a couple of hours, so make yourself comfortable.”

  Golden settled herself on the couch, placing her spear on the floor next to it. Asclepius eyed her armor.

  “Seriously, the more of your skin I can touch, the easier this is. If you can lose the armor and the mask at least, I can work with that.”

  Golden glanced up at Keystone, who nodded reassurance. Golden drew off her gauntlets and put them on the floor. She unstrapped her breastplate and set it down as well, which left her clad in a thick t-shirt. Finally, she reached up and removed her mask. She kept this in her hand, though, a talisman against vulnerability.

  If Asclepius was bothered by her ruined face, he did not show it.

  “Okay,” he said. “I’m going to start with hands on your head, at your temples. I’m not going to talk a lot during this process, except to tell you to move. There is going to be a lot of physical contact. I’m going to be fairly zoned out during this, but I can hear you. If there’s something you need to tell me, say it clearly and give me a few seconds to respond. If you need to g
et up for any reason—well, don’t. And take your wave off, please.”

  Golden reached up and unhooked her earpiece, wincing slightly as she drew it out of her ear. She leaned down to tuck it into one of her gauntlets, and placed the mask on top of the pile, too.

  “Okay, I’m ready.”

  “All right.” Asclepius reached forward and made contact. Golden flinched in expectation of a jolt, but the only thing she felt was the touch of his hands. They were firm against her temples, holding her face forward so that she was looking directly into Asclepius’s bluish-grey eyes. His left hand was soft against the harsh ridges of scar tissue on the right side of her face, and his steady gaze was at first uncomfortable.

  After a moment of trying to avoid his eyes, though, Golden realized that he was looking through her, not at her, and let herself relax. His hands traveled one finger at a time, spidering their way slowly across her face, touching each contour. Even with his absent stare, it was a startlingly intimate experience, and Golden found herself blushing again. She was extremely glad she hadn’t agreed to do this naked.

  Around them, Foresight, Keystone and Mimic went about their days. Outside distractions didn’t seem to bother Asclepius, but any time that she shifted too much, Asclepius would furrow his brow slightly and say, “Still.”

  Over the course of hours, his hands slowly traveled down her body, each moving at its own pace but both working in concert. The only words Asclepius said to her, other than reminding her to be still, were other short instructions: turn, stand, sit.

  Though his touch was impersonal, Golden felt that no one had ever taken the time to explore her body so thoroughly. By the time he was holding her feet in his hands, she felt a compelling connection to him, a bond like she’d never felt with anyone else. And, if she was being honest with herself, more than a bit of a crush.

  Asclepius placed her feet on the couch, leaned back and stretched. “Oooooh. Okay. There we go.”

  He looked into Golden’s eyes, present again. “All right, you’re good to go. Anything goes wrong, I can heal you up.”

  “I see what you mean about it not making a difference if I was naked or not,” Golden said softly. “That was…thorough.”

  “Oh yeah,” agreed Asclepius, tapping his head. “I’ve got a complete mental picture of you naked now.”