The Superhero's Son Omnibus Volume 2

Chapter Fifteen-2

Anyway, we went through a large metal detector before we could leave the dock, which, according to one of the guards, was just to make sure we weren't taking anything into the Compound that could be dangerous. The only thing that set off any alarms was the Pokacu canister that Graleex had given us, but Dad assured them that the yellow gas was safe and would not be a problem in here. I wondered why Dad didn't let the government confiscate the canister; probably because he still wanted to examine it.

After that, we took a small cart—which had a trunk large enough to carry our luggage—through the Compound to an elevator on the very back wall. This elevator took us down into a long hallway that had doorways to several different rooms. My parents and I were taken to a door at the very end of the hall, which turned out to be a large suite-like room. It had two bedrooms, a bathroom, a kitchen, and a living room, but none of it was particularly fancy or luxurious. It was mostly plain and boring, but at least there was a bed in my room, which was better than that awful seat I had back on the Spinner.

When we got to the suite, one of the guards told us that Renaissance would be here soon, but until then we should stay in the suite and not venture out without the knowledge of the Commander or anyone else in the Compound. I didn't mind that too much, because I was too exhausted to want to do any exploration (but I planned to do some later, because this place was just too big to leave unexplored), though I noticed Dad didn't seem thrilled that we didn't have as much freedom of movement as we'd like.

When the guards left, Mom said that she was going to go and make lunch for us, since she had discovered that the pantries and fridge in the kitchen were full of food and ingredients to make lunch. I was surprised that Mom was feeling good enough to do that after everything we'd been through, but neither Dad nor I objected to the idea of lunch.

Instead, I went to the room that I was given, without talking to my parents, to take a nap, because like I said, I was really tired and needed to sleep. I was also thinking of taking a shower, although I was too tired to do that just yet.

But just as I lay down on the bed, I heard a sudden beeping noise from my suit-up watch. I looked down at it to see who is calling and saw that it was Malcolm. That was a weird coincidence, because I had been intending to call him later after I took a nap myself, but I decided that I had enough energy to talk with him.

So I tapped the screen of my watch and said, “Hi, Mal. What's up?”

“Kev, are you okay?” said Malcolm. His voice sounded hurried and scared for some reason. “You sound okay, but are you really?”

“Um, yes, mostly,” I said. “Why? Did something bad just happen?”

“Someone on Neo Ranks posted a picture of an alien spaceship flying into space and it looked like it was coming from the Atlantic,” said Malcolm. “I remembered that you were going out into the Atlantic Ocean, so I just called you to see if you had been attacked by aliens or not.”

I blinked. “Well, I sort of was, actually.”

“You were?” said Malcolm. “I knew it! How did it happen? Tell me all the details.”

“Okay, but first, how did you contact me?” I said. “I'm down in the Compound. I'd think that the G-Men would be blocking all communications coming in and out of the place.”

“Well, your voice does sound kind of weird,” said Malcolm. “Like you're underwater, so maybe your connection isn't all that good. But wasn't your watch designed by your dad? He's a tech genius, after all, so I bet he designed it to get through any communication blockades.”

“That's as good a guess as any,” I said. “Anyway, here's what happened after we left Hero Island earlier.”

I gave Malcolm the rundown of what happened, including my meeting with Graleex and fight with Robert. Because I was so tired, I didn't go into any great detail about any of it, though I tried to answer any of Malcolm's questions as best as I could.

Once I finished, Malcolm said, “So you met an actual Pokacu. Man, Kev, I know you're a superhero and all, but I'm actually getting a little jealous at all of the awesome things you've experienced.”

“It wasn't nearly as awesome as it might sound,” I said. “Graleex probably would have killed me and Mom if Robert hadn't attacked.”

“Yeah, I know, but come on,” said Malcolm. “Most people will never get to meet any sort of alien ever. Did you take any pictures, at least?”

“No, I didn't,” I said. “But it doesn't matter. Graleex is gone and probably won't be back for a good long while. Robert, however, might still be a threat, if he survived.”

“Right,” said Malcolm, though he sounded doubtful. “But I doubt even Robert could have survived the assault that you just told me about. Hit by lasers from an alien spaceship and then buried underneath tons of rock and sand at the bottom of the ocean doesn't seem like the kind of thing that anyone could survive, super human or not.”

“I know, but I think he's probably still alive anyway, though I doubt he's going to escape for a while,” I said. “Maybe he'll go back to the hospital for a few weeks or months, like when I punched him through the cafeteria wall.”

“Heh,” said Malcolm. “But seriously, you sure you're okay? I can't believe you actually fought Robert and survived without your powers.”

“I'm fine,” I said. “Just really tired, but now that I'm in the Compound, I won't have to worry about Robert getting here and killing me. I was told the place has great defenses.”

“Does it have robot sharks with lasers mounted on their heads?” said Malcolm excitedly.

“I asked, but they wouldn't say,” I said. “But I think they do. It's what I'd do if I was in charge of designing the defense systems for this base, anyway.”

“If you see any, take some pictures and send them to me right away,” said Malcolm. “'Cause I really want to see them.”

“Sure,” I said. Then I suddenly remembered something. “Oh, yeah. Why didn't you tell me your brother is a superhuman?”

The silence coming from the suit-up watch immediately evaporated whatever good feelings I was experiencing at the moment.

I almost thought Malcolm had hung up before he said, “So you've met James?”

“Is that his real name?” I said, though I said it somewhat hesitantly. “He told me that his codename is Renaissance.”

“Yeah, that's him all right,” said Malcolm. “I didn't know he was at the Compound, though. He always told us that he lives in Washington.”

“Well, he's apparently the Compound's Commander,” I said. “But anyway, I didn't know your brother had powers. Why didn't you tell me that before?”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” said Malcolm. “I was going to tell you before you left, but … well, I just didn't think it was worth mentioning.”

“Why not?” I said. “I remember when I first revealed my identity to you, that you said I was the first neohero you knew. But if your brother is a superhuman, then doesn't that mean I'm actually the second neohero you know?”

“My brother was never a neohero,” said Malcolm. “He went into the military when he turned eighteen and joined the G-Men when his powers manifested. He's never actually put on tights and a mask and gone out into the streets to fight crime or supervillains. So technically, I wasn't lying when I told you that you're the first neohero I've met.”

“Oh,” I said. “But what kind of powers does he have? Can he paint really well?”

“Nope,” said Malcolm. “He's a really bad artist. He can actually come back to life after being killed and can't be killed the same way twice.”

My eyes widened in shock. “Wow. That puts him on Omega Man level power. How did they discover it?”

“Like I said, James was in the military for a while,” said Malcolm, though he didn't sound thrilled at having to talk about his brother. “They sent him to Afghanistan to fight in the war over there and he got killed by a roadside bomb. Everyone thought he was dead; my parents even got a letter from the government informing us about that.”

“But he actually survived?” I said.

“No, he died all right, but his power kicked in and he came back to life,” said Malcolm. “My parents thought it was a miracle and so did my brother. James thinks God brought him back to life because he has a special task for him that he hasn't completed yet.”

“What would that task be?” I said.

“I don't know,” said Malcolm, his tone cynical. “And I don't really care. He's just doing his thing and I'm happy for him and all, but I just don't care.”

I frowned. “It sounds to me like you actually do care. Did you two have a rift or something?”

More silence; in fact, this silence lingered on for longer than the last, which made me think that Malcolm was just not going to answer any more of my questions.

Then he said, “Kind of. My parents still love him and he's still on good terms with the rest of the family, but … well, he's too big.”

“Too big?” I said. “What do you mean? He looked pretty athletic to me.”

“Not big as in 'fat,'” said Malcolm in annoyance. “But big as in he's set the standard for the rest of us. My parents keep harping on about how proud they are of him and how successful he is and how we should try to be like him, but he's the only one of us who has powers, so how are we supposed to be like him?”

“Well, maybe they don't mean—”

“And he doesn't just have powers,” Malcolm continued, as if I had not said anything, “he's got the kind of powers that even most superhumans would die for. Being able to come back from the dead and never die the same way twice? Come on, man. That even puts your powers to shame.”

“It is pretty impressive,” I said. “But—”

“And he's one of Cadmus Smith's most trusted lieutenants and he's in charge of a super secret government facility, too, apparently,” Malcolm said. “I mean, how am I supposed to live up to that? How are any of my siblings supposed to live up to that? Just the thought makes me panic.”

“There's no need to worry,” I said. “I'm sure your parents will understand.”

“Understand? Understand what?” said Malcolm. “Come on, man. You and I both know I'll never live up to the expectations set by my brother. I'm frankly not even sure what I want to do after I graduate. I can't even meet Tara's standards in school and she's not even a superhuman.”

“Mal, can you calm down a little?” I said. “You're kind of freaking me out.”

“I'm freaking myself out, man,” said Malcolm. “You don't understand. My parents are high achievers, which doesn't put them in good standing with others anyway, and they expect us to be the same.”

“What's wrong with being a high achiever?” I said. “Isn't that better than being a lazy good-for-nothing?”

“Yeah, but I didn't expect the standards to be 'become a powerful superhuman and get a high ranking position in a large government agency' high,” said Malcolm. “How are you supposed to meet that?”

“Maybe you shouldn't,” I said. “Maybe you can forge your own path, different from your older brother's.”

“Easy for you to say,” said Malcolm. “You had powers and got made the leader of the Young Neos because what, you weren't brainwashed into some kind of cult? You've got your path already laid out before you.”

“Hey, my life isn't all sunshine and roses right now,” I said in annoyance. “I've lost my powers and am in hiding with my family from a psychotic maniac who wants to kill me. And I still don't have everything figured out anyway.”

“Whatever,” said Malcolm. “Even with all of that, at least you know what you're supposed to do and don't have an older brother to live up to.”

“I'd much rather have an older brother who has set impossibly high standards for me to meet than be in hiding from my archenemy right now,” I said.

“Yeah, right,” said Malcolm. “Anyway, you're breaking up, so I'm just going to hang up now. I hope Robert doesn't kill you.”

Before I could respond to that, I heard a small click and my watch showed that Malcolm had hung up. I lay there on my bed, staring at my watch's screen, before slowly lowering to my side and resting my head on my pillow.

I didn't see why Malcolm was so angry with me. Was he jealous of me or something? It wasn't like my life was perfect and without danger. Maybe he was just annoyed at how I reacted to how inadequate he felt toward his brother. What was I supposed to say? Just pat him on the back and pretend like he didn't have to do anything?

Whatever. I was too tired to think. I just closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep, hoping that I would feel better after I finished my nap.