Chapter 6: Crime Wave
GEMINI
I graduated from college with no discernible powers, sad to say. The only thing remotely resembling superhero ability was my athleticism and uncanny ability to somehow survive all the abilities thrown my way during classes. I did learn plenty about how to take on most rescues, but I failed when it came to rescuing planes. Whatever my abilities later turned out to be (if indeed I wasn't among the few that never acquired powers), super strength wasn't among them.
I coasted along after college, having trouble finding jobs. College was supposed to be a ticket to employment, but it seemed as though it was a sort of currency not valued for anything. While my parents told of how few people went to college, and once they graduated, they were valuable to the work force, the sad fact appeared to be that the standards were much higher for me. Rather than securing a job as a sidekick to some superhero as I was trained to do, or even getting a job at a video store, I would up doing jobs that were lonely and repetitive, such as sweeping floors as a janitor or pulling weeds for older people. Is this what the price of college paid for?
For a little while, I moved out of my home, and was in an apartment. The experience was a bit like a second college, as I learned things about life that I wouldn't have just from being taught. I decided that I didn't like the big city life though, so I moved back home after repeatedly failing to find gainful employment sufficient to keep the apartment. I worked hard at the jobs, but it seemed like I was choosing between food and housing, whereas at home I was fed, clothed, and what money I earned I could keep. So I got back home and noticed that around me, many other people my age were barely managing.
All of this seemed to be a perfect storm for a rise of crime, as though an invisible hand was grooming an entire class of people living on the fringes into a life of lawlessness. I was lucky not to be living on the fringes, I had a mother willing to work hard so that I could keep searching for work. But what about those desperate enough to steal or kill?
THE WORLD
Economic desperation wasn't the only cause of crime. Hate crimes were also at a rise. And not only white on black or anti-LGBT, as is portrayed in new sources, but all sorts of crimes against all sorts of people. Even blacks were killed by other blacks for being too successful. If something as simple as jealousy or intolerance could drive someone to kill, crime had no simple solution. But it was true that greater wrongdoers were in power, and driving an epidemic of villainy.
In some cases, it was for a silly a reason as misunderstanding a book meant to show a path to greater love and forgiveness. A man was sitting on a street corner smoking a joint and drinking hard liquor. "Stinking weede! Public drunkeness! The path to eternal damnation and a hellfire is at hand! Repent or suffer the consequences!" The half-stoned half-drunk man looked up. In front of him was a man dressed as though he was ripped from the pages of a Nathaniel Hawthorne novel, which was probably ironic, as the author spent a good portion of his writing critiquing this sort of judgemental hypocrite. Hawthorne's own ancestors had been involved in the Salem trials after all, and had a great deal of guilt. But the man didn't seem to have gotten the memo. In any case, the man on the street, while not exactly a productive member of society, was hardly the worst sort of scum. He wasn't a dealer of said drugs, he wasn't a human trafficker or pedophile, and he didn't do murder or rape. He was just lacking in purpose. But the man didn't care. As far as he was concerned, he was worthy of damnation.
The street person had just enough sobriety to try to defend his actions, "Like, hey man, I'm not doing anything. Or anything. You know?" But the man shook his head, "You are guilty of sin. And the penalty of sin... is death!" Immediately, his hand gathered heat through some method that defied thermodynamics. There was no fuel, just air burning, and no heat was drawn away from the surrounding area. By the laws of science this was impossible, but as he was fond of quoting the Bible (out of context), "with God all things are possible." He pushed the heat forward like a flamethrower, somehow also not expending the original flame. He doused the flame in his hand simply by closing it, and as the man burned to ash, he caused a heavy rain to fall on the ash so it wouldn't spread to the surrounding area. Fundamentalist was cruel to those who had committed minor crimes and he did nothing to real criminals, but to his credit, he did usually prevent the occurrence of collateral damage.
This crime happened in broad daylight, but no police tried to arrest him. It was pretty clear that he was too powerful for anyone but superheroes. And in any case, this wasn't the only crime going on even in this block. Some guy called the Midnight Special was throwing a train at store fronts, then robbing the place. He'd simply load the train up with more merchandise, and pick it up to throw at another store. Where were the superheroes in all of this? They were overwhelmed. Even though the superheroes were more powerful (they were stronger as a result of dealing with all the wrongdoers), wrongdoers currently outnumbered heroes by about twenty to one. And this didn't include the real wrongdoers, those in power who set up a situation where crime was likely to exist. It used to be that police were effective, but now all the mayors employed cops that weren't physically fit, who were corrupt to the point of villainy themselves (some of them used drugs, while others hurt regular citizens), or weren't even properly armed because poor policy enforced weapons restrictions even to those who were supposed to serve and protect. There were even police who refused to enter during a school shooting, allowing children to be gunned down in cold blood. Superheroes could have made a difference in all of this, if they had help with regular crime. Instead they had to address not only superwrongdoers but even regular wrongdoers and the very people who were supposed to be the heroes.
In another town, another crime was going on, though it wasn't as clear who the real criminal was. A man named Jerry Smith had competed to win money on a game show. He had won overall about $3,000 in actual cash, but had won a trip to Bora Bora valued at $30,000 and a cast valued at $50,000 dollars. However, the actual price of the trip even with all expenses was closer to $6,000 and the car was only worth $10,000 at retail. The game show had massively inflated the value to benefit themselves and meanwhile, he was stuck paying taxes far more than his prize winnings could afford. In fact, the prize winnings were the problem. Before he could collect on the prizes, he had to pay taxes, meaning he couldn't even sell them to cover the taxes and pay for a real trip. He was stuck in a bad situation, and it was time to make someone pay. But first, it was time to get money back. But Jerry did have the skills to rob a bank, and knew that a superhero would notice this sort of crime. So he chose the next best thing. He would rob from arcades. After all, it was these games of chance that ruined his life, and unlike a casino, they weren't as strongly enforced. Tilt, as he called himself, had the ability to use limited psychokinesis, so he gamed pinball and skeeball games to win tickets. He only occasionally won jackpots, but it was slightly more often than chance, allowing him to buy things like Game Cube or Playstation 2, then resell it for cash on eBay.
In still another area, a man named Napalm Man had set up a secret base in the jungle. His suit appeared to have missile launchers for hands and one on his helmet, and tire treads were on his shoes. He could also fire canisters of napalm from his hands. This would turn out to be a major inconvenience when he had to do his business, but problems when urinating were probably what drove him to villainy in the first place. In any case, his misguided plan involved jumping around a boss room and throwing bombs within it, truly a crime worthy of a nemesis. Thankfully, he was stopped before he could do any real damage.
NERISSA
My first job out of college was subcontracted by the military. Unlike Gemini, there was no job lag for me. The same was true of Emily. I was able to secure her a position as the hero Craftsman in military production, which later transferred into an engineering career in civilian companies. She constructed planes, jeeps, and even weapons for their use.
The current mission was my trial run as a commanding officer. I had completed my training and shown real potential, and saved the life of a commander. He decided to raise me from the ranks, telling me, "You've done me a good turn. And now I'm going to do you a damned bad one." He wasn't joking. While obeying orders from the military was stressful enough, being responsible for other lives and having to work with military elites was a real nuisance. They expected me to fail on this mission, and it was obvious. But I had pride in my work, so I wasn't about to let down my superiors.
We swam into the jungle in complete stealth. Thanks to my powers, I was able to exit the submarine roughly about two miles from the coast along with Frogman and Sharkgirl, two of the more talented Navy Seals. However, the bulk of our forces had to enter the jungle through a small tributary, which meant a delay in forces, reducing overall combat readiness. The same was true of my need to shed the bottom half of my body because it had turned into seal skin. The three of us, after adapting to land, and checking our guns for water damage. While most modern guns actually can fire underwater due to the presence of oxidizers, the presence of silt, grit, and other crap can ruin the weapon's composition even if an ignition of gunpowder is still possible. We headed to a dry spot that was away from combatants, and tried to radio the others. Setting down the weapons, I let Sharkgirl check them over while I picked up my communicator. We had our frequency set at 396.875 for basic communications, so I called, "This is Navy Seal calling the other Navy Seals." I smirked at the coincidence, wondering the odds of me developing seal transformation powers and joining the exact unit of military that I was now calling. I continued, "My location is 10°02′N 105°47′E, on the outskirts of the town of Can Tho. I am near the coast by the jungle. Where is everyone else?" I listened while they gave their location, and I was just about to order them to meet when I heard a growl nearby. I turned to see an adult tiger staring at me.
Military training had afforded me good reflexes, but our weapons were drying, and the other troops were far away. I carry a stainless steel military-issue dagger though, for occasions were bullets run out or things go wrong. This was such a moment, so while I was definitely fighting on the defensive, I was not exactly powerless. So when the tiger lunged at me, I rolled to the side, and tried to draw the knife. The tiger tried to slash left and right with its sharp claws, and while I tucked in my legs for the first hit, the second hit scratched my right leg slightly. I felt weak, and it didn't help that the tiger followed it up by trying to pin me and eat my face. Before it could get too far in that ambition though, I got a good hit in its chest, and a quick hit across the neck. Now it was woozy, and it tried desperately to slash at me. Had it not been wounded, that would be it for me, but its wounds affected its strength, and I only got light scratches before Sharkgirl tested a service pistol, emptying two shots into its left side. After it rolled over, she shot it a third time in the head for good measure. I tore off part of my shirt and used it to make some makeshift bandages. We had a decent healer known as Medic in our group, but I needed to make sure I arrived there alive, so I disregarded modesty and stripped to a bra to bind up the wounds in my leg and chest. Frogman had an extra shirt to lend me, though it was a men's size and hung about me loosely.
I walked for roughly a half hour through snake and spider infested jungle, thankfully managing to stay clear of both while I dealt with a tiger scratch in a leg and two near my chest. It didn't look like I got any damage to internal organs and as far as I could tell, I wasn't infected. But I was weak enough that this trip took nearly an hour and a half, and I had to be supported by the other two. Finally, I arrived at what appeared to be the submarine and a small tent camp built. My order to move to my location was never made, so I instead told them I'd meet them there, and that I was wounded. Medic was prepared for me, and used her powers, kissing my wounds to make them better. While some healers could lay their hands on wounds like Jesus, her kisses were able to clean and sterilize all surface wounds, allowing them to instantly heal. Again, I was thankful that the tiger hadn't injured me internally.
After a brief rest, we consolidated our troops. "Most of you will stay behind and guard the submarine. If we do not return in three days, the base appears to be here," I said pointing at a coast spot on the map, "You are to enter from this point and fire a torpedo here and here." I paused, determining who should stay and go. "If your name ends with L through Z, you follow me," I explained, knowing that about 70% of our troops did not have those sorts of names, "the rest will sneak into the compound on foot." Frogman, Medic, Sharkgirl, and I were joined by 15 other troops while the rest left us.
We made our way down a cliff into a small cave. We found ourselves fired on by some guys with small cannons while also being swarmed by bats. Not wanting rabies, I ordered two of my troops to open fire on the bats (sorry animal rights, but I draw the line at getting a disease) while the others dealt with the cannoneers. Some of these bats made it to safety, and we continued into the cave section, only to find some tunneling devices digging towards us. I had no desire to get ground up into mince, so we pulled out the heavy artillery and blasted the crap out of it until it smashed up. Continuing through the cave, I saw waterfalls emptying from chasms above, through this wasn't the only thing above. Someone had flown a helicopter from above into this section of cave. There also were mines on the ground, as one of the troops was unfortunate enough to discover. I ordered the troops to split up and play to their strengths. Those that could swim would cross the water with me. Those who had sensory abilities or who could disarm bombs would act as minesweepers. And those who had ranged powers or heavy weapons should fire on the choppers. We made it out of the cave only to be attacked by robotic guards. This nemesis had some seriously high tech guarding his compound, I must say. Thankfully, one of my troops could basically do a railgun trick using coins and some kind of electromagnetic power. After this, we made it into the compound, and rushed past some more troops wielding heavy cannons. Our troops dropped down and fired before they could even react though. We climbed to a lower section, and were greeted by rockets fired from a launcher at the other end of the room. They had a nasty tendency to explode into shrapnel, so our troops were down to seven uninjured after this. Medic stayed behind to tend the wounded, moving them to a safe position, then surgically removing the shrapnel before using her healing powers. Much of these wounds looked like they would leave a scar, but she did her best. Another larger robot blocked our path, but the soldier with the EMP powers was among the wounded, so we instead tried to slip past. We made it past grenadiers and what appeared to be some kind of bouncing bomb with more than a little bit of luck and speed (our firearms helped, too).
At last we made it to the mastermind's lair. He shot missiles at us, and launched his canisters of napalm. But the military is well trained, and we quickly turned him into Swiss cheese with a few good rounds from our weapons. The napalm did manage to spill on a few of us though, so Medic had some work on the way back. Anyway, the mission was a success, and I was given more duties. If only all superheroes ran that efficiently. From what I heard, they were a mess right now.
