After the Golden Age

He smiled thinly. “I knew you’d say that. And what if the record does come out? You were a rebellious kid who made a mistake. Most of the people in that courtroom have made mistakes. Any witness the defense calls, Bronson can cross-examine. No matter what they make you say, Bronson can clean it up. I’ll coach him. I made the temporary insanity diagnosis not to keep you out of jail, but because it was true. In rebelling against your parents, you identified with their enemy, and it was totally irrational. You weren’t in your right mind. Here’s the ultimate proof: After that incident, what did you do? Did you get in trouble again? Did you spiral down into a life of crime and mayhem? Did you return to Sito’s clutches? No. You disappeared for four years, and it was the best possible thing you could have done. You came back from college a different person. You were more confident, you could take care of yourself, and you no longer depended on your parents for your identity. You simply aren’t the same person.”

“You can see all that because you’re telepathic.”

He huffed. “Anyone with eyes can see you’re a decent human being.”

“Even Dad?”

“If he ever actually looked at you, he’d see it. But he’s a man who’s very good at seeing what he wants to see.”

Mentis always knew the right thing to say. Didn’t make her any happier about the situation.

“I don’t want my personal history made a spectacle.”

“No. But we all make sacrifices for the cause of justice. This might be yours.”

* * *

Second place. She’d won second place in the 200-meter freestyle. That was in the medals. She’d never done that well, and had never been so proud. It was the pinnacle of her freshman year in high school. Maybe even her whole life. She could actually do something right.

There was a ceremony, and she stood on the podium. The medal hung weighty and solid around her neck. It wasn’t really silver, but some kind of alloy plated silver. It didn’t matter. She held it in her hand. It meant something. It had to mean something. Mom cheered for her from the stands. Dad wasn’t there because he had to work. Mom had apologized for him, and Celia said she understood.

Back home after the meet, Celia found her father in his office and showed him the silver medal. He gave her a tight-lipped smile and ruffled her hair. “Good job. Maybe next time you’ll win.” He turned back to his work without another word.

She had expected something … more. A cheer, a hug. She wanted him to be as happy as she was. But she wasn’t the champion, and anything less wasn’t enough.

Next time. Why bother?

She stayed up past midnight that night watching TV in the living room, lying flat on the sofa. She flipped channels. Two hundred of them on the satellite TV, minus the ones her parents had blocked. She wore her silver medal over her pajamas.

Then, Suzanne’s voice carried from down the hallway, growing closer. “You let them get the better of you. You underestimated them.”

Celia used the remote to quickly shut off the TV and huddled flat on the sofa, hiding in the shadow behind the arm. She hadn’t expected her parents to make an appearance in this part of the house tonight. They were working. Not the day job working, but working working, as she thought of it, when they donned their costumes and saved the city.

“They surprised me more like—”

“They shot at you and you just stood there, man,” said Robbie Denton, aka the Bullet. Captain Olympus was getting dressed down by both of them. Huh.

“Warren, you can’t take chances like that. I know the mission is important, but you can’t … waste yourself on two-bit robberies.”

Warren said, “Robbie was backing me up. At least, you were supposed to be.”

“Hey, the plan had me watching the back exit.”

“And it’s not like I can get hurt—”

Suzanne said, “That’s not the point! There are other ways of getting hurt than getting shot. This … this stranger knows all of our secrets now.”

If the Olympiad was arguing, it meant something had gone wrong. The trio passed by the living room, reaching the open kitchen.

“What are we going to do about him?” Suzanne said, her voice softer now.

Celia wondered who they were talking about.

“I think we should invite him onto the team,” Warren said.

“No, we don’t know anything about him—”

“Not to mention he’s inexperienced,” Robbie added. “He’s just a kid. Heck, does he even shave yet?”

Warren said, “Having him on the team would give him a stake in keeping our secret.”

“But how can we trust him?”

“He helped us, Suzanne. He didn’t have to, he could have let those gunmen surround me. Instead, he just knocked them all out without lifting a finger.”

“That kind of power frightens me,” she said.

What had happened? Someone with powers had discovered their secret identities, obviously, but how? Celia remained perfectly still, listening.