Book 2: Chapter 21: A People Person (1/2)
Screams tore through the laboratory, reverberating off steel walls and hardened glass. Echo watched from behind a reinforced viewing chamber as a man writhed on a table in sheer agony. The man's arms and legs were chained, given just enough length to clatter as limbs flailed wildly. The collar around the prisoner's neck glowed red hot as its power source began to expend itself. Echo chewed at his lip in frustration.
The door beside him opened, and Gateway entered. He was dressed in business casual, a simple collared shirt and slacks, with comfortable shoes. A far cry from his vigilante outfit, with its royal purple stripes and broad cape. The contrast had always amused Echo; Gateway's eccentricities were more than tolerable given what he'd been through. Echo allowed the man plenty of leeway.
His faithful second stood by silently, both of them watching as the collar ended its torment, and the prisoner's cries subsided to ragged gasps. Echo checked the readouts beside him. The vast array of scanners pointed at the room showed no changes in radiation levels.
”Still nothing?” Gateway inquired.
Echo shook his head solemnly. ”Belief is a stubborn thing.”
”Don't I know it,” Gateway replied wryly. ”Has anyone spoken to him?”
Echo shrugged. ”The standard fare. Our goals were explained. He took it poorly, of course.”
”Yes, well, kidnapping has that effect on a man,” Gateway said.
”It will all be worth it in the end,” Echo countered, and Gateway nodded sadly.
”I know. What are we hoping for from this one?”
Echo checked the scanner once more before answering, ”Mr. Charleston is one of maybe a thousand people across the country with the 'Roofme' upgrade. His voice triggers a chemical reaction in the listener's brain similar to the drug Rohypnol.”
Gateway snorted. ”It is entirely unsurprising to me that such a thing was allowed past our government's vaunted ethics board.”
”Money talks,” Echo agreed.
”So he is a rapist,” Gateway stated. ”Suddenly, I feel like this is karma.”
”In a way. Mr. Charleston was somewhat infamous for kidnapping and ransoming the children of wealthy individuals.”
They both watched as one of the People's lab assistants entered the room. Charleston thrashed wildly, nearly foaming at the mouth, as the man swapped out his collar's power source. The assistant left, and the collar engaged. Charleston returned to screaming.
After a few moments passed, Echo commented, ”I couldn't help but notice the potential of his upgrade. It strikes me as somewhat similar to an old friend's, if different in execution.”
It took a few seconds for Gateway to understand. ”You're trying to find a new Champion?”
The Champion of Chicago: the original founder of the People back when they were a team of like-minded heroes looking to keep their city safe. No one could ever replace him, in Echo's mind. But his power, perhaps, was a different story. Champion's voice, his methods of communication, verbal or not, demanded obedience. People did what he told them to do, and it was a credit to the man's integrity that his use of such a power had never once been condemned, not even by his enemies. A well-intentioned idealist, whose naïve hopes were crushed by cold reality. That was the worst that history could make of him.
Echo doubted that Charleston could ever claim that same moral character.
He shrugged. ”Not exactly. Not this man, at least. But if we can succeed the once, every following success is that much easier.”
”You think Champion would approve of that?” Gateway asked. From any other man, it might have seemed mocking, but Echo knew the question was honest. Gateway was as faithful as they came to the cause. He could afford to be honest.
”No,” Echo decided. ”As far as I can recall, Champion never once used his power unless lives were on the line.”
”Lives are on the line,” Gateway insisted, laying a hand on Echo's shoulder.
The heartfelt defense brought a smile to Echo's lips.
”Champion did not think like that,” he confided. ”He was much more grounded in the here and now. I tried to keep his eyes forward, on the future. My failure cost us all.”
They paused, contemplating the People's grim history, a silence broken only by Eddie Charleston's muffled screams.
”What was he like?” Gateway asked.
”Champion?” Echo considered the question. He consulted his memory of the man. The confidence and glory and sheer charisma of a man whose star burned too bright. The great plans he'd made, the ambitions, murdered in their cradle by an unfeeling society and the cold blade of betrayal.
”Larger than life,” he decided. It was better that the man's flaws were forgotten by time. His blinding naivete, his sheer confidence in the goodness of others, his trusting nature that left him open to all kinds of exploitation. There was no need to dwell on these. His ideals would live on in the next generation of the People, and they would see him as the icon that he should be.
Charleston's screams died down once more, as the collar expended the last of its charge. Gateway watched him moan with a pitiless gaze. ”Should I speak to him?”
”If you'd like,” Echo offered. ”Perhaps share your own story. Living proof might go a long way towards what we are trying to achieve.”
Gateway tapped his chin for a few moments, then vanished in a flash of purple light and a burst of heat. Echo absently waved away the smell of ozone that the man's teleportation always left behind. He turned his eyes towards the makeshift laboratory. Several seconds ticked by, before Gateway flashed into existence beside Charleston. He held a spare battery in his hand, the brief delay having been spent retrieving it.
Charleston moaned at his presence, and attempted to scrabble away. The chains held fast, straining and rattling. Gateway held out his hands, mouth moving, and Echo deactivated the sound dampeners.
”—continue to deny your own potential, Mr. Charleston. This upgrade of yours is nothing more than an artificial lock placed on your soul, by those who would seek to control you. You have the key, Mr. Charleston. You need only use it.”
”Go-o fuck yours-s-self,” Charleston spat back, and phlegm splattered across Gateway's clean shirt.
Gateway sighed, fishing a handkerchief out his pocket and wiping away the spit. Echo caught a flash of discoloration around his subordinate's ear canals. Good, he'd remembered to put in his earbuds. Charleston's upgrade required direct, somewhat prolonged exposure. Electronics disrupted it easily.