Abrams had a birthday coming up. A friend of Andre's actually had the birthday. His job was to take Andre to Borders to buy a present. Abrams wasn't too fond of toys; but books, they made a difference. Ever since Andre was a baby, he had read to him to works of Shel Silverstein and had suggested perhaps a copy of "Where the Sidewalk Ends" would be a good present. "That and some manga?" Andre enthusiastically had asked. Upon agreeing they had went to the local Borders. Being effectively his own boss, Abrams could easily take time off for this.
After arriving, Andre took off to the kid's section, seeing some others his age. After making sure Andre knew where he would be, Abrams began looking for the 'manga'; however was soon distracted by a new edition of the physics lectures of Feynman. Physics books in hand, he began looking for this unfamiliar manga Andre always talked about (and his mom sometimes bought for him). He obviously needed help. A tall black man crouching down trying to read covers of comics he was completely unfamiliar with.
A female voice floated from over his shoulder. "Is this your first time?"
"Mhmm, what?" he said a bit surprised. "Oh, no I've been in a bookstore before."
After turning on his heel and looking up, Abrams was greeted by the vision of a memorable young woman. She wore fashionable glasses and a casual business ensemble that included a white sweater over a light blue blouse and a pleated charcoal skirt with a pattern of white flowers of some kind. The little name tag read "Beth" and it made her stand out as an employee. Her hair was modestly piled up and held in place by some semi-mystical feat that only women seemed to be able to accomplish. Taken altogether, Abrams could see that this Beth had attempted to downplay her looks. It was a gesture in futility, of course, as this remarkable girl would stand out in any crowd with anything short of a Hollywood special effects team doing her makeup.
"Looking through manga, I mean," she said. "Is there something I can help you find?"
Abrams stood up respectfully, books in hand replying, "Manga, a yes. For my boy." A stickler for detail, Abrams noted that her glasses served no real purpose other than giving her more of a 'bookish but fashionable' look. It was obvious this girl was always hit on by the outside world. Though attracted to her, he wouldn't be that type of guy. Not here, not now. She could see that he was tall, 6'1 at least, in good shape and fairly handsome. His clothing was casual and nice but his shoes, which Beth noted, gave him away as someone with money. Yet he didn't have that vibe about him. "He has a friend who loves this stuff. Me, I grew up on Silver Surfer. What would an 8 year old read?"
"Hm," Beth considered. "Eight years old. Well, definitely stay away from these here." She pointed out to a long series of manage books. "And these. And these. Oh, and don't even look at these," she noted. "That's for teenagers and has more adult-oriented content and specialized stuff like yaoi and yuri."
She guided his attention to some series that were aimed at a younger crowd. "This stuff is pretty good, though, and a fun read for an eight year old." She pointed out another series that had less romantic notions and focused more on action and adventure. "But a lot of manga are not published in color and I know some American kids prefer lots of color in their books. Do you know what he would like?"
Abrams didn't even have to think about it, "Action. Andre loves action, though to be honest these are for his friend's birthday. So, yeah probably that." He paused for a beat, "What about super heroes? Does the manga have their versions of heroes. People to look up to?"
Beth nodded yes. "Oh yes, they certainly do. Why don't you try this one?" She picked one off the shelf and handed the book to him. As he took it, she said, "It's a shame really."
Abrams responded, "A shame?"
"I mean, it's really great kids can turn to books to find heros and role models. That's a good thing. But it's a shame there just aren't very many real-life heros to look up to, you know?"
Beth shook her head and smiled apologetically. "Sorry. I don't mean to distract you from your shopping with silly prattle about the state of the world we live in. I'm sure your son's friend will enjoy this book."
Abrams was intrigued, "No, it's not silly. I mean there are heroes and there are heroes. For me Dr. King is a hero, Richard Feynman is a hero, the Tuskegee Airmen are heros; but they are long gone. It's up to us to be the role models for our kids, and to point to the ones they should believe in. The trouble is lately there are fewer and fewer to point too. It's all too superficial."
"I suppose so," Beth admitted. "But the trouble is..." she leaned closer and continued in a conspiratorial whisper, "what we read in the paper. You know, about all these special people over the last five or ten years who actually seem to have real powers but yet only use them for self-serving purposes." She leaned away and continued in a normal tone. "It's disheartening, is what it is. If only people with real powers had the courage to use them to help others."
"That's not completely true. I know of one at least who seems to be doing good. Some people might not think so, but I think the Black Mask is pretty inspirational and proactive. Heard of her?"
"Yes. She's been in the papers like four times already," Beth said. She seemed to be warming to the idea there might be more 'heroic' type people out there than she first was willing to admit. "I haven't seen any pictures of her, although some of the people she's helped have had their pictures in the paper. I guess she doesn't stick around long enough for people to get a shot of her. But on the other hand, so little is known about her yet -- as far as I know -- that she could hardly be identified as a solid role model. I haven't the slightest idea what her motivations would even be.
This did seem a subject Beth was fascinated with. She continued. "Do you think she's the only one out there doing things like that? Helping people using exceptional abilities?"
"No. I'm pretty sure there are others." he said matter-of-factly with some restrained enthusiasm belied by a smile. "But you know, it's got to be hard. The temptation to do wrong. Yet, even by trying a little, she's blazing a path. Even if she fails, is arrested, or shot - not that I want that; she's still begun to set a precedent. A responsibility of power. Like, hmmm, Spiderman. Right? Or like 'The Giving Tree'. If you are fortunate, you share that fortune. Special abilities included."
"Hm. That's a pretty positive way to look at things," Beth replied. "I wonder what other heros might arise."
"I don't know for certain. It may be that they are just normal people during the day. The mask, the anonymity it gives may liberate them, " he replied. "They may have jobs like you or me." he continued after brief pause, "You know, I thought I saw something last week. Could have been a vigilante or hero. Is there a difference?"
"Yeah, a vigilante is what you get called when the police think you're interfering," Beth said with a smile. "What was it you saw?" she asked curiously.
"It was odd. I saw a car racing toward the Highway 70 onramp about a week ago get enveloped in what could only be described as a lightning flash, loose power and roll to a stop. Now, I know that could easily be explained by natural phenomena, but there was no storm that night. In fact, it was completely clear. And for a moment, I witnessed something like a electrical streak or spark in the night sky; but I lost it in the haze of the city."
"Kind of sounds a bit like a UFO thing," Beth said then smiled. "Which is a whole other topic of interest to me."
Abrams smiled, "Interesting. Well, UFOs are just that, unidentified. That doesn't mean they don't have a terrestrial explanation. What's more likely: a person, vehicle or organization using some ability natural or artificial to stop a car being chased by the police; or a spacecraft from another star taking the time and effort to do the same?"
"Hey, if there are really people with super powers, then I have no trouble also believing in aliens. Like Superman or that green Martian guy." Beth grinned brightly.
"Point," conceded Abrams, "You know, if I remember correctly heroes always did better together. Like the Avengers or Justice League or such. Since there are people with abilities, wouldn't be wise if they combined their talents? By the way, they call me Abrams."
"Well that would seem wise," Beth said. "Nice to meet you Abrams. I'm --" she tapped her name tag with a smile. "Well, you know who I am."
"Yes. Thank you for the guidance on this manga. You are quite helpful. I should get back to Andre, he's in the kids' section." said Abrams.
"Have a great day!" Beth said with a wave as he moved away.
That night. With Andre at his mother's, Abrams opened his map of the city. The girl, Beth, was right. There was a hunger for heroes in this place, and only by working together could they truly make a difference. He decided not to wait for more data. Ion must find the Black Mask tonight. For the next two hours he crunched the numbers and looked over the probabilities. He selected the most likely place with the highest level of crime in the city that also had appearances of the Black Mask. If he found her, fine. If not, he would put a dent into criminals' plans enough to get her attention. Either way it looked to be an eventful night.
Beth had decided to veer toward downtown during her restless, homeward bound trip from work and maybe take a look around to see what kind of nightlife Hero City had to offer. She did not notice the small voice in the back of her mind encouraging her to find a reason to go downtown. She had no realization of the subtle manipulation that in fact influenced her every action when she was on these "restless" evening diversions.
Beth exited the underground train station near downtown and headed up to the sparkling clarity of the city lights. She walked deliberately, paying no mind of the young hooligans who were watching her every move. She took no notice of the fact they had signaled to friends and were following her by flitting from shadow to shadow. Beth obliviously proceeded down a street, listlessly stopping at this or that shop window to look at glittering jewelry or dummies dressed in classy night-life clothes.
She was admiring one display in particular when she heard a distant yell. She looked up, suddenly alert and her sinister escort faded into alleys. The yell happened again and identified the source as an alley across the street. Other late-night walkers studiously ignored the desperate plea for help, not wanting to be endangered themselves.
Something came over Beth. She ducked into an alley and a moment later she had donned the silk mask that had become the Black Mask's trademark. A titanic leap sent her all the way across the street and into the alley where she encountered a woman accosted by three young men and held at knifepoint. Her purse was on the ground and its contents littered the pavement, but the men paid it no attention; they were focused entirely on the struggling woman.
The victim was wearing a dark blue business suit and skirt combination. Her suit coat had been torn away and lay in a crumpled heap next to the purse. Her white blouse was torn and pulled down around her shoulders. Her hose now had a run in it and one of her black high heeled shoes were broken. They had her pinned against a pile of broken-down cardboard boxes and it was clear they had intended to take from her something far more important to her than a few baubles or credit cards in her purse.
With an angry snarl, Black Mask descended upon the would-be rapists with a fury. She grabbed one and used him as a human club as she swung at one of his friends. Those two were reduced to a stunned -- for the moment -- pile but the third came at her with a switchblade. He stabbed at her right where her heart should have been. It sunk in to the hilt but the Black Mask was too intent on her task to pay it any attention. She slammed two fists down hard on either side of his neck and heard a snap as his collarbones gave way. The man sunk to his knees with a groan.
The other two struggled to their feet and, noting the protruding handle of the knife and the fact the Black Mask didn't seem to be slowing down, grabbed their broken companion and fled.
Beth's silent watchers did not make an appearance, but stayed well hidden and well away from the Black Mask's view.
When Ion rocketed overhead, he saw the assailants flee and a woman in a black silk mask bend to help a woman who'd fallen. As he approached, he saw the Black Mask, knife still stuck in her chest, help the woman gather her purse and her coat and give her a shoulder to lean on as she limped toward the alley entrance.
Rapidly he summed up the situation. Woman down, assailants leaving, Black Mask helping woman. First thing was first. Ion quickly moved to a point in front of the assailants but above them out of reach. Arm outstretched in glowing energy he said to them in a deep slightly mechanical booming voice, "Stop, drop and surrender or eat lightning! Your choice." The sound was easily heard by any in the immediate area, the Black Mask especially.
They hesitated for a moment like rabbits caught in dazzling headlights. Their instinct for survival took over and they turned to try to dash across the street between two large trucks. Having had them covered, he released the electrical blast that arced between the two fully conscious assailants, avoiding the already wounded one before they even left the sidewalk. The smell of ozone hung in the air as the two men collapsed, their wounded friend falling with them.
The explosion of electrical power had distracted the Black Mask from assisting the woman further than simply verifying she was shaken but all right. The bright flashes from the opposite end of the alley had drawn her attention, though, so concerned there was another attack occurring, she leapt to the top of the nearest building.
There was a quiet whoosh near the place Ion was hovering. When he looked over, he saw the Black Mask balanced on the edge of the building looking down at the men blasted and lying at the base of the alley. The Black Mask raised her face and turned toward him. Moonlight glinted at the forgotten knife whose handle jutted from just above her left breast and it gave her words an even more eerie cast when she spoke in her oddly echoing voice.
"Did you strike those men down?"
"Yes," he said.
"They had already been defeated and were fleeing. What was the purpose of your attack?"
Ion descended, removing plasti-ties from his pack, "I intend to restrain them and summon the police. They assaulted that woman and they should face justice. Odds are, if they would do this, they are likely wanted for something else anyway." He paused, "You are wounded, should I summon a physician?"
The Black Mask looked intrigued and watched as he descended to the alley below. She then stepped off the edge of the building after Ion and dropped to the ground with a strangely ethereal gentleness, as if gravity had only a loose grip upon her body.
Arriving near him at the floor of the alley, she then examined the knife sticking out of her. She gripped the handle firmly and pulled it out, then held it up to examine it under the scant street lighting. "This weapon is not capable of penetrating my defenses. The damage is merely cosmetic."
While Ion secured the prisoners, she closed the blade and tossed the knife into a dumpster. She looked down at her clothes, though, and noted a new hole caused by the knife. "My blouse..."
The change in her voice caught Ion's attention. The eerie echo was gone and the Black Mask was looking at the hole the knife had made in her light blue blouse. He noticed at this time, too, she was wearing a pleated charcoal skirt with white flowers. The ensemble looked oddly familiar to him. The addition of the mysterious-looking black silk mask had thrown him off for a moment, but now with the prisoners secured, he could get a better look at the Black Mask.
He quickly put the clues together. Abrams' memory was nearly flawless. Those were the clothes that Beth the bookstore girl had worn. He quickly said, "Let's get off the street."
The Black Mask pointed out, "We're in an alley," Her voice had changed again, regaining the strange echo, as if two voices were speaking instead of only one. "And I should probably assist the victim in notifying the authorities so that your prisoners may be dealt with as you had intended."
Truth be known, the Mask was a little out of her element here. She had always taken pains to avoid the police and the associated complications. But now with prisoners, her usual routine had to change.
That is odd, Ion thought. Her answer was a bit too razor accurate. Either Beth was a great actor, or there was more to her. "Very well then. I'll send a message to the police. Please take care of the girl and when you are done, meet me there." He pointed to the top of a nearby building. "I'll be waiting for you so we can talk privately."
The Black Mask turned to stride back to the entrance of the alley where the would-be victim was looking back at them curiously. Between her assurances and Ion's call to the police, the woman agreed to wait the couple minutes needed for the police to arrive to take her statement and haul in the captured criminals. She even intended to press charges.
Satisfied, the Mask left before the police arrived and after single, tall leap she covered the four stories to the top of the nearby building where Ion awaited her. She landed lightly on her feet and walked toward Ion. The way she moved and the way she held herself only confirmed Ion's suspicion she was in fact the friendly bookstore salesperson he'd met earlier that day.
"You've built a name for yourself Mask. What you are doing is admirable." Ion said as she approached.
She paused and tilted her head in a question for a moment, then seemed to make an internal decision. She proceeded in that unnatural dual voice. "It is my mission. This culture must be preserved for what is to come. Crime and corruption, if gone unchecked, will ultimately cause society to backslide. Progress will be reversed, civilization could... die..."
Alien as her voice sounded, there was an unmistakable sadness when she considered the prospect of what could happen if bold people were too afraid to step up and do what needed to be done. "Therefore," she continued, "corruption, especially that caused by crime, must be brought under control one step at a time. Civilization must survive."
Ion noted her odd behavior, still not sure if it was an act, a psychosis, or something more. But, that didn't deter him for the moment. Noting that they both had the right idea he responded, "True. If we are seen as heroes to the people, by both our actions and our example we can do our part in reducing crime and corruption. It will likely be hard, but it isn't worth doing if it isn't difficult. I want to help and I see you do as well. Perhaps we could pool out talents and work together, or at least not get in each other's way?" Ion's fairly idealistic view point was capped with the following, "Now is the time they need people like us. When they need heroes."
The Black Mask nodded. "It's wise to pool our talents. I've already joined a team and can extend the offer to you. We maintain contact with one another through the use of temporary cellular telephones purchased by our mundane selves. You can find them with prepaid minutes. They can be easily disposed of in the event they might be traced and equally simple to replace." The Mask gave him Velocity's number. "You may like to call this number when you have a phone of your own and give us with your new number. The number I'm providing you is for Velocity, a hero who is leading the initiative. I'll inform her of your intention to join forces with us."
The Black Mask paused, then said, "I cannot give you my number for now because my..." The Mask paused as if to cut herself off. When she continued it was with a carefully worded statement. "My alter ego has no knowledge she in fact leads a double life. She is aware of Velocity and her team and does assist them, but not of me and this meeting between you and I. She would be greatly disturbed if she were to be confronted with it at this time."
Ion nodded, "That is fair. I'll contact this...Velocity and check out her story. If she and the others are anything like the two of us, goal-wise; I won't see any problem."
He added, "Please let her know I'll be calling. I wouldn't want any misunderstandings. Also, please know that I cannot disclose my true identity. Even should you become aware in the future, please keep it confidential." Note to self, he thought, integrate a place in the suit for the cell phone. Also, note that this girl's psyche may be fragile; but keep it to yourself for now.
The Black Mask nodded.
Ion finished with, "Peace." and took off. He'd call Velocity soon.
Story by Dustin Evermore, Edward Cupps.