It was a clear night over San Francisco. Stars shined above Kyle Knight, at work on his rooftop workshop. On the bench in front of him was the Cosmic Converter Belt, a device meant to harness the power of the stars. Kyle’s grandfather, Ted Knight, had been the first to do this with the invention of the Cosmic Rod, and had fought as the Starman.
Late in life, Starman came to have two sons. Before they had come of age, he’d passed on the Cosmic Rod to a hero known as the Star-Spangled Kid. It was this man, Sylvester Pemberton, who had redesigned the rod into a belt. Years after his death, the Cosmic Belt had been found by a young woman, and she now fought with the Cosmic Rod as Starwoman.
A short time ago, Kyle’s sister Wilhelmina had done a very stupid thing. She had taken the Cosmic Belt from their father’s storage and tried to become Starwoman’s sidekick. That she hadn’t lost her life was a miracle. That she’s lost her freedom was a certainty.
The belt, after much convincing, had been given to Kyle for his experiments. It could be said that the only thing Kyle shared with his father was a complete lack of desire to be a superhero. But while Jack Knight was a collected of old things, Kyle preferred to work at building something new, like both his grandfather’s.
Wires connected the Cosmic Converter Belt to various knick-knacks that Kyle had scrambled together. These toys and small appliances required small amounts of energy to operated, were battery operated for the most part. Kyle had removed the batteries, and most of the electrical workings, from each device. The hope was that they would operate solely on the stellar energy focused through the belt.
“All attempts are renewable energy are actually different ways to generate electricity,” Kyle said to himself. “if this works, there will be an actually alternative. Here goes nothing.”
Kyle flipped the switch on the belt. The explosion could be seen from all over the city, and would have killed anyone stupid enough to be standing over the Cosmic Convertor Belt unprotected. Fortunately, Kyle wasn’t stupid. He wore goggles and gloves, and had placed a clear blast shield between the belt and himself.
Most importantly, Kyle was wearing a belt with a tethered rope, which was why he only dangled from the edge of the roof instead of falling to the street. It took some minutes before he could get himself safely situated back on a thankfully solid roof. He blinked spots out of eyes that could still see, thanks to the goggles, and saw the door burst open.
The explosion had awoken Jack Knight, and he’d come to investigate what Kyle had been up to. One wouldn’t know by their looks that the two were father and son. Kyle was taller and broader, with a build that didn’t exactly match his intellect. But while Jack was a tad scrawny, he moved like a man who knew how to fight.
“Kyle, we’ve talked about this!”
“I know, I know.” Kyle staggered to his feet, prepared to give the same argument he’s made four times before. “But I was certain it’d work this time. It’s just a matter of calibrating-”
“No more,” said Jack. “I’m not going to back you up with the fire department again. We made an agreement, and you refused to live up to it.”
“But just think if I’d succeeded! You were always going after Grandpa to refine the technology for-”
“Now I’m starting to think he was right not to.” Jack sighed at the twisted lumps of plastic. “Those action figures had been mint in box.”
“They still are. I bought those online. Please, with some more time I can-”
“That’s the problem, all the free time you’ve had since putting off college. Well, if you want to stay here, that’s done.”
“You can’t mean…”
Jack nodded. “That’s right, son. You’re getting a job.”
Late in life, Starman came to have two sons. Before they had come of age, he’d passed on the Cosmic Rod to a hero known as the Star-Spangled Kid. It was this man, Sylvester Pemberton, who had redesigned the rod into a belt. Years after his death, the Cosmic Belt had been found by a young woman, and she now fought with the Cosmic Rod as Starwoman.
A short time ago, Kyle’s sister Wilhelmina had done a very stupid thing. She had taken the Cosmic Belt from their father’s storage and tried to become Starwoman’s sidekick. That she hadn’t lost her life was a miracle. That she’s lost her freedom was a certainty.
The belt, after much convincing, had been given to Kyle for his experiments. It could be said that the only thing Kyle shared with his father was a complete lack of desire to be a superhero. But while Jack Knight was a collected of old things, Kyle preferred to work at building something new, like both his grandfather’s.
Wires connected the Cosmic Converter Belt to various knick-knacks that Kyle had scrambled together. These toys and small appliances required small amounts of energy to operated, were battery operated for the most part. Kyle had removed the batteries, and most of the electrical workings, from each device. The hope was that they would operate solely on the stellar energy focused through the belt.
“All attempts are renewable energy are actually different ways to generate electricity,” Kyle said to himself. “if this works, there will be an actually alternative. Here goes nothing.”
Kyle flipped the switch on the belt. The explosion could be seen from all over the city, and would have killed anyone stupid enough to be standing over the Cosmic Convertor Belt unprotected. Fortunately, Kyle wasn’t stupid. He wore goggles and gloves, and had placed a clear blast shield between the belt and himself.
Most importantly, Kyle was wearing a belt with a tethered rope, which was why he only dangled from the edge of the roof instead of falling to the street. It took some minutes before he could get himself safely situated back on a thankfully solid roof. He blinked spots out of eyes that could still see, thanks to the goggles, and saw the door burst open.
The explosion had awoken Jack Knight, and he’d come to investigate what Kyle had been up to. One wouldn’t know by their looks that the two were father and son. Kyle was taller and broader, with a build that didn’t exactly match his intellect. But while Jack was a tad scrawny, he moved like a man who knew how to fight.
“Kyle, we’ve talked about this!”
“I know, I know.” Kyle staggered to his feet, prepared to give the same argument he’s made four times before. “But I was certain it’d work this time. It’s just a matter of calibrating-”
“No more,” said Jack. “I’m not going to back you up with the fire department again. We made an agreement, and you refused to live up to it.”
“But just think if I’d succeeded! You were always going after Grandpa to refine the technology for-”
“Now I’m starting to think he was right not to.” Jack sighed at the twisted lumps of plastic. “Those action figures had been mint in box.”
“They still are. I bought those online. Please, with some more time I can-”
“That’s the problem, all the free time you’ve had since putting off college. Well, if you want to stay here, that’s done.”
“You can’t mean…”
Jack nodded. “That’s right, son. You’re getting a job.”
The Science and Technology Advanced Research Laboratories, commonly known as S.T.A.R. Labs, were considered the dream job for all non-mad scientists. From the moment Kyle first visited the San Francisco S.T.A.R. Lab on a school trip, he thought of nothing but working there. Of being worthy of working there. Now he was walking the halls, though under less than ideal circumstances.
“You’ll be here in the Mail Room,” said Director Karen ‘Kitty’ Faulkner. “Everything will have already gone through security screenings, so you won’t have to worry about anything dangerous. You’ll mainly be directing general correspondence to the various departments, and the outgoing correspondence ready for pick-up.”
“Would I be going around with a cart?” Kyle recalled that aspect of the job from old movies.
“No. Each department has interns that will come to you.” Director Faulkner’s look was almost pitying. “I’m sorry, but very few personnel have complete access. And with this position, there’s no point beyond the minimal clearance.”
“I understand.” Kyle’s sure his dad was insistent on that.
Director Faulkner punched her code into a keypad. “I understand this may not seem glamorous, but it’s a vital position. You’ll have daily deadlines, and some of the mail…I’ll let your supervisor explain. Hi Chakquie, this is Kyle. He’ll be joining you in here.”
The older woman looked up from an opened envelope to consider Kyle. “Mmmhmm. He can start with the photos.” She indicated a mail bin that contained regular envelopes that were bulging.
Director Faulkner nodded and gave Kyle a forced smile. “Have fun. Hopefully you haven’t eaten.”
Over an hour later, Kyle withheld a gag for what seemed to be the thousandth time. Tentatively, he opened the next envelope. The photos inside brought a sigh of relief from his lips.
“Oh, thank you. These are all just pictures of snakes.”
“It addressed to Copperhead?” asked Chakquie.
“Uh,” Kyle checked the front of the envelope. “Yeah…how’d you know?”
“He can’t get them.”
It took a moment for Kyle to process, then the urge to gag returned. “You mean…seriously?!”
“Mmmhmmm. Set them aside and write the advisory.”
Kyle hadn’t imagined the mail room at STAR Labs would be anything like this. Unfortunately, he hadn’t considered that the San Francisco Lab specialized in the study of metahumans. That meant it also served as a holding facility for metahuman criminals, who had many of the same rights as regular criminals. That included correspondence.
“What kind of people would want to write to criminals like this, let alone send them photos?”
“Most are family,” Chakquie said. “The rest I don’t want to know. We just frisk, distribute and return.”
Kyle nodded and picked up his letter opener for the next envelope. But his mind couldn’t help but reflect on the sheer waste of it all. So many seemingly-normal people spent so much time and thought on criminals who were locked away from society. They had to know the letters were opened and read by someone other than the recipient. Yet the things they wrote and the photos they sent, Kyle couldn’t begin to understand it.
The next envelope also had contraband. Kyle looked at the growing pile on his desk. The guests (STAR Labs didn’t call them inmates) were given an option to send back anything they couldn’t receive. They had to pay the postage, and Chakquie said most of them wouldn’t, and after 30 days the contraband was destroyed. So Kyle had that to look forward to in a week, she’d said.
It was all such a waste, Kyle thought as he considered the pile.
# # # # #
They observed as Wilhelmina Knight walked out of her high school. She was sullen and hurried, clutching at the bulging backpack on her shoulder. Not at all like the would-be heroine they expected.
“Kid looks a bit like my own sister,” one of the two men said.
“She ever dream of saving the world?” asked they second man. They were sitting in a car parked across the street from the school.
“Sure,” replied the first. “Every time she reads an article about starving kids.”
“Problem is, this one has the pedigree to back up her dreams.” The second man felt at the gun in his jacket. “The makings of another hero, she has. And that’s bad for us.”
“And what, pray tell, is ‘us?’”
The two men jumped and turned. Seated between the two of them, in the back seat, as a thin man dressed all in black. His black top hat almost reached the ceiling, and his chin was propped on top of a cane.
With no immediate answer from the two men, the Shade answered his own question. “Because what I see are two cowards planning to murder a girl. And I would hate to associate with such an unseemly sort of criminal.”
“Get away!” Both men drew their guns. They’d heard stories, but hadn’t believed. It had been years since anybody had bothered the Knights, with good reason.
The guns fired in silence, and the bullets sank deep into the Shade. So deep that they disappeared into the darkness that was his being, while the Shade was no worse the wear. He sighed, black eyes taking his attackers in. And in, and in, as the blackness expanded to fill the whole car.
Faint screams were heard, but they went as unnoticed to passersby as the blackness inside the car. Soon both were gone, and the Shade sat alone in an empty vehicle. Alone, he observed Wilhelmina Knight. She remained unaware of the recent threat to her safety, as the Knights have always been.
The Shade had heard of Starwoman’s recent encounter with a would-be sidekick, and had suspected. Further, he’d suspected that others would suspect, and so had hurried from his Opal. The trip had not been in vain.
That had been the third attempt he’d thwarted in as many weeks.
# # # # #
“So how was work, Kyle?”
Kyle was sitting at the dinner table with his father Jack and step-mother Sadie. His sister, Wilhelmina, had sullenly taken her plate up to her room. Weeks later, she was still upset over the restrictions that had been imposed on her. Kyle had considered bringing in some photos from work, to show her how much worse it could be.
“It’s been interesting,” Kyle said. Previously, he’d left it at that. But that night he decided to elaborate. “Well, apparently this S.T.A.R. Lab also functions as a prison for metahuman criminals.”
“Really? I never thought about it before, but I guess they have to go somewhere.” Jack took a bite of his meal. “Would you know if Grundy was held there?”
“Honey, you know it wouldn’t be your Grundy,” Sadie said.
“You never know,” Jack said. “Cyrus Gold might decide it’s interesting to be soulful and contemplative in prison.”
“Sorry, but that’s not information I can give out,” Kyle said. “Even though it’s accessible to the public. They have a lot of rules like that, for security reasons.”
“Yeah, that makes sense.” After a few more bites, the thought entered Jack’s mind and he made a face. “Wait, do you look at their mail?”
Kyle nodded. Images were returning to his head, and he’d suddenly lost his appetite.
“Ugh. I’m sorry, son.”
“They still have a right to communicate with the outside world,” Sadie said. She worked with inmates all the time, at the paint class she volunteered to teach every week. “Without that, some of them would go mad. It’d be cruel and inhumane to cut off that lifeline.”
“No, I know that, honey,” Jack said. “I was just remembering some of Bobo Bennetti’s stories, and sympathizing with what I imagine Kyle is going through. I hope you’ve been washing your hands.”
“Every chance I get,” Kyle said.
There came a knock at the door, loud and insistent. Jack rose to get it, grumbling about the interruption. Dinner conversation wasn’t often so interesting. But once he’d opened the door, a cry of alarm came out.
Sadie and Kyle rushed to see what was the matter. Lying in the doorway, practically at Jack Knight’s feet, was their old friend Mikaal. The hero of Opal City didn’t appear to have been in a battle, but he was in a bad way. His blue skin was pale and flush, his red hair tangled from sweat, and his features sunken with a form of hunger.
It was not the first time the Knights had seen this Starman in such a state.
“Help me,” whispered Mikaal, pitifully.
# # # # #
“They have him resting comfortably now,” Jack Knight said to his son, outside S.T.A.R. Labs.
It was an old routine. Mikaal would arrive, strung out or in withdrawal, on the Knights’ doorstep. They would get him to S.T.A.R. Labs, the most suitable facility for his alien physiology. After a few days, Mikaal would be recovered enough to be on his way, after Jack refuses the request that is always made. They cycle would usually repeat after a little more than two years.
In times past, Kyle had guiltily enjoyed these visits, as it was an opportunity to accompany his father into S.T.A.R. Labs. This time he’d had to wait outside the building. He was still curious though, and had to satisfy it somehow.
“Dad, why does Mikaal always come to you when he’s in these benders?”
“Well, Kyle, you should know that some junkies have a habit with their habits. And with everybody in Opal City looking up to him, Mikaal can’t bear for any of them to see him like this.”
Kyle rolled his eyes, and this time was unwilling to accept the protective lie. “Dad, please. The way he’s yelled, I couldn’t help but overhear some of what he asks. He thinks the staff can help him, somehow.”
“Oh, that.” Jack sighed. “You remember the story about how I went into the future, right? About what happened to the Shade?”
“Yeah, that his darkness had become infected and out of control. The power of your Cosmic Staff cures him in the future, and you did it once you returned to the present, so it may never happen.” Kyle understood then, but shook his head. “That shouldn’t work with Mikaal, though. The energy of the staff, it’s the same as sonic crystal embedded in his chest. And it’s never cured addiction before, has it?”
“Yes to the first, no to the second,” Jack said. “Mikaal has no rational reason to think I can help him, but the fact is that in these states he’s not rational. Years ago I was convinced not to give in to him, that to try and fail could do even worse for him. Eventually Mikael sees reason and moves on.”
“Until he relapses.” Kyle looked up at the building. “There has to be some way to help him. Some treatment.”
“Addiction is part of Mikaal's alien biology,” Jack told his son. “As a race they were addicted to combat, and without that they seek other forms of release. It was so much worse, before I’d met him. And with Mikaal being the last of his kind, we just don’t know enough to help him. Not entirely.”
Jack put his arm around Kyle’s shoulder. “Now come on, it’s getting late. You can ask after him tomorrow, when you’re here for work.”
# # # # #
Mikaal Tomas was surprised when S.T.A.R. Labs discharged him. Usually Jack Knight was there to help him out. They would stop somewhere for coffee and argue. Then Jack would invite Mikaal to eat at his house, with his family, and they would argue some more. That Jack wasn’t there as Mikaal was being pushed out of his room in a wheelchair it worried him, and he began to itch.
So when Mikaal was pushed into the lobby, he was relieved to see Kyle Knight. The young man looked well, considering the last time Mikaal had seen him. Tall and well-built, he looked so strong, a typical heroic look that his father lacked. Kyle didn’t look very heroic then, however. He looked guilty.
“Hey Mikaal.” Kyle nodded at the guard, and was allowed to help Mikaal out of the wheelchair. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m well enough,” Mikaal said. “I can, can walk on my own.”
“Okay.” Kyle still held Mikaal, but allowed him to step away from him. Which Mikaal did, shakily at first. But he was soon steady, and Kyle smiled. “Let’s get you some coffee.”
Soon they were seated across from each other at a booth in a nearby coffee shop. Kyle began to make his proposal. “My father told me about your request. To be honest Mikaal, I don’t think the staff could help. The stellar energy doesn’t affect the body in that way, not the way it did the Shade.”
Mikaal began to feel the itch, when Kyle continued. “But I think there might be another way to help you. You remember who my other grandfather was?”
Mikaal nodded. “The Mist. A cruel if pathetic man.”
Kyle made an uncomfortable gesture. “Yes, well, he was also a genius in his own right. It was a device he invented that gave him and his…my mother, their powers. But from what I’ve read that was not its intended use. There were experiments where it’s power was focused on the hull of a ship, or a building foundation, and after a short time the affected material would just fade away. I think if I can isolate those substances in your body and focus the device’s power on just them, that the same thing will happen.”
“A sort of detox.” Mikaal was grasping the concept. “And in this way end my addition to your planet’s chemicals.”
“I really it’s not a perfect fix,” Kyle said quickly. “Addiction is wired into your species. But with a clean slate in this regard, and proper support, you can focus your compulsions on more positive things. What do you say? I can take a blood sample and run some tests tonight.”
“Absolutely not.” Jack was standing over the table, as angry as his son had ever seen him. He’d only heard the end of the conversation. “What the hell were you thinking, Kyle, checking Mikaal out without me there? Mikaal, I’m sorry. I told him the staff cannot be used in this way.”
“And he agrees.” Mikaal briefly described Kyle’s proposal.
That was when Jack Knight got angrier than Kyle had ever seen. “Wait outside while I take with Mikaal alone.”
“Dad, I-”
“Get outside now!” Everybody inside jumped at the exclamation.
# # # # #
There was no knock before Jack Knight opened the door to his son’s room. That served as a red flag to Kyle to how far he’d gone in his father’s eyes. The other thing he noticed was the box his father carried inside, a large and old thing of metal that didn’t look very heavy.
“Mikaal just left,” Jack said. “This was tougher than the other times, the point that I’m worried where he’s going next. I…I don’t…” Jack set the box down and ran a hand through his hair, flummoxed. “When they told me that you had already left with him, I was actually a little proud. But then I walked in, and I heard you asking Mikaal for a blood sample.”
“Dad, I-”
Jack held his hand out, and Kyle closed his mouth. “The worst thing is, I’m questioning whether you even care about him at all. That this isn’t just you looking for an experiment. And not just any experiment.”
Jack looked down at the old box, with the tubes and dials sticking out of it. “Did you know that the Mist specifically built this to kill people? It was in one of the diaries that Wesley left me. He first saw it used on a rabbit. The thing just…was vaporized.”
“Yeah, it was a demonstration for some military contract.” Kyle had read the diaries. “He also used it to sink a ship and collapse a building. Hits for the mob or something.”
“That was what he used his genius for. This was the kind of man he was. Your grandfather.”
Kyle had no illusions about that. “He shot my other, his own daughter, while I was in her arms. I have never…I still don’t question what I’ve been told about him.” Kyle gestured at the box. “That he lacked imagination doesn’t change the fact that that could be used to eliminate waste. There is so much that can’t be broken down, this could get rid of-”
“That is not what you were proposing to Mikaal,” Jack said quietly. “You suggested using this on a living being. With no knowledge of how it works or even affects a target, you wanted to try it on one of my oldest friends. A man who, let’s be honest, didn’t really have the capacity to say ‘no’. Do you not see what a despicable thing that is.”
“I didn’t mean…” Kyle put his hands to his head. “The idea had just come to me. Obviously I wouldn’t imme-” Kyle leaned his head back and almost laughed. “But no, it wouldn’t be obvious. You’ve been doubting my intentions for a while.”
“No, it isn’t that I doubt your intentions,” Jack said. “But since before you announced this year off, I’ve seen you be nothing but reckless. And it’s the worst kind, very…deliberate. From your experiments with stellar energy to your lack to your lack of concern over Willie-”
“We went over that.”
Jack ignored his son’s protest. “And now this interest in this…weapon. Well, here it is. A lot of the guts have been ripped out, and of course there’s no power source. This, you’re free to look at to your heart’s content.”
Kyle did not expect to hear those words. “I…you’ve pretty much just said I betrayed your trust. Why would you offer…?”
“I’m not offering you anything but a box of junk to waste time on,” Jack said. “Kyle, I know that whatever I say or do, you’ll pursue your ideas. All I ask is that you go slow, take your time to do this right. And for god’s sake, don’t go making promises to drug addicted aliens.”
This time Kyle did laugh. “All right, Dad. That was…it was wrong of me. I’m sorry.”
“Also, you’re not going to your cousin’s birthday party.”
“What? But Dad-”
“No arguments,” said Jack sternly. “This is the consequence of your actions. No trip to Karaltine for you.”
Next Issue: While the Knight family face surprises on an alien world, Kyle’s boss goes on a rampage.
“You’ll be here in the Mail Room,” said Director Karen ‘Kitty’ Faulkner. “Everything will have already gone through security screenings, so you won’t have to worry about anything dangerous. You’ll mainly be directing general correspondence to the various departments, and the outgoing correspondence ready for pick-up.”
“Would I be going around with a cart?” Kyle recalled that aspect of the job from old movies.
“No. Each department has interns that will come to you.” Director Faulkner’s look was almost pitying. “I’m sorry, but very few personnel have complete access. And with this position, there’s no point beyond the minimal clearance.”
“I understand.” Kyle’s sure his dad was insistent on that.
Director Faulkner punched her code into a keypad. “I understand this may not seem glamorous, but it’s a vital position. You’ll have daily deadlines, and some of the mail…I’ll let your supervisor explain. Hi Chakquie, this is Kyle. He’ll be joining you in here.”
The older woman looked up from an opened envelope to consider Kyle. “Mmmhmm. He can start with the photos.” She indicated a mail bin that contained regular envelopes that were bulging.
Director Faulkner nodded and gave Kyle a forced smile. “Have fun. Hopefully you haven’t eaten.”
Over an hour later, Kyle withheld a gag for what seemed to be the thousandth time. Tentatively, he opened the next envelope. The photos inside brought a sigh of relief from his lips.
“Oh, thank you. These are all just pictures of snakes.”
“It addressed to Copperhead?” asked Chakquie.
“Uh,” Kyle checked the front of the envelope. “Yeah…how’d you know?”
“He can’t get them.”
It took a moment for Kyle to process, then the urge to gag returned. “You mean…seriously?!”
“Mmmhmmm. Set them aside and write the advisory.”
Kyle hadn’t imagined the mail room at STAR Labs would be anything like this. Unfortunately, he hadn’t considered that the San Francisco Lab specialized in the study of metahumans. That meant it also served as a holding facility for metahuman criminals, who had many of the same rights as regular criminals. That included correspondence.
“What kind of people would want to write to criminals like this, let alone send them photos?”
“Most are family,” Chakquie said. “The rest I don’t want to know. We just frisk, distribute and return.”
Kyle nodded and picked up his letter opener for the next envelope. But his mind couldn’t help but reflect on the sheer waste of it all. So many seemingly-normal people spent so much time and thought on criminals who were locked away from society. They had to know the letters were opened and read by someone other than the recipient. Yet the things they wrote and the photos they sent, Kyle couldn’t begin to understand it.
The next envelope also had contraband. Kyle looked at the growing pile on his desk. The guests (STAR Labs didn’t call them inmates) were given an option to send back anything they couldn’t receive. They had to pay the postage, and Chakquie said most of them wouldn’t, and after 30 days the contraband was destroyed. So Kyle had that to look forward to in a week, she’d said.
It was all such a waste, Kyle thought as he considered the pile.
# # # # #
They observed as Wilhelmina Knight walked out of her high school. She was sullen and hurried, clutching at the bulging backpack on her shoulder. Not at all like the would-be heroine they expected.
“Kid looks a bit like my own sister,” one of the two men said.
“She ever dream of saving the world?” asked they second man. They were sitting in a car parked across the street from the school.
“Sure,” replied the first. “Every time she reads an article about starving kids.”
“Problem is, this one has the pedigree to back up her dreams.” The second man felt at the gun in his jacket. “The makings of another hero, she has. And that’s bad for us.”
“And what, pray tell, is ‘us?’”
The two men jumped and turned. Seated between the two of them, in the back seat, as a thin man dressed all in black. His black top hat almost reached the ceiling, and his chin was propped on top of a cane.
With no immediate answer from the two men, the Shade answered his own question. “Because what I see are two cowards planning to murder a girl. And I would hate to associate with such an unseemly sort of criminal.”
“Get away!” Both men drew their guns. They’d heard stories, but hadn’t believed. It had been years since anybody had bothered the Knights, with good reason.
The guns fired in silence, and the bullets sank deep into the Shade. So deep that they disappeared into the darkness that was his being, while the Shade was no worse the wear. He sighed, black eyes taking his attackers in. And in, and in, as the blackness expanded to fill the whole car.
Faint screams were heard, but they went as unnoticed to passersby as the blackness inside the car. Soon both were gone, and the Shade sat alone in an empty vehicle. Alone, he observed Wilhelmina Knight. She remained unaware of the recent threat to her safety, as the Knights have always been.
The Shade had heard of Starwoman’s recent encounter with a would-be sidekick, and had suspected. Further, he’d suspected that others would suspect, and so had hurried from his Opal. The trip had not been in vain.
That had been the third attempt he’d thwarted in as many weeks.
# # # # #
“So how was work, Kyle?”
Kyle was sitting at the dinner table with his father Jack and step-mother Sadie. His sister, Wilhelmina, had sullenly taken her plate up to her room. Weeks later, she was still upset over the restrictions that had been imposed on her. Kyle had considered bringing in some photos from work, to show her how much worse it could be.
“It’s been interesting,” Kyle said. Previously, he’d left it at that. But that night he decided to elaborate. “Well, apparently this S.T.A.R. Lab also functions as a prison for metahuman criminals.”
“Really? I never thought about it before, but I guess they have to go somewhere.” Jack took a bite of his meal. “Would you know if Grundy was held there?”
“Honey, you know it wouldn’t be your Grundy,” Sadie said.
“You never know,” Jack said. “Cyrus Gold might decide it’s interesting to be soulful and contemplative in prison.”
“Sorry, but that’s not information I can give out,” Kyle said. “Even though it’s accessible to the public. They have a lot of rules like that, for security reasons.”
“Yeah, that makes sense.” After a few more bites, the thought entered Jack’s mind and he made a face. “Wait, do you look at their mail?”
Kyle nodded. Images were returning to his head, and he’d suddenly lost his appetite.
“Ugh. I’m sorry, son.”
“They still have a right to communicate with the outside world,” Sadie said. She worked with inmates all the time, at the paint class she volunteered to teach every week. “Without that, some of them would go mad. It’d be cruel and inhumane to cut off that lifeline.”
“No, I know that, honey,” Jack said. “I was just remembering some of Bobo Bennetti’s stories, and sympathizing with what I imagine Kyle is going through. I hope you’ve been washing your hands.”
“Every chance I get,” Kyle said.
There came a knock at the door, loud and insistent. Jack rose to get it, grumbling about the interruption. Dinner conversation wasn’t often so interesting. But once he’d opened the door, a cry of alarm came out.
Sadie and Kyle rushed to see what was the matter. Lying in the doorway, practically at Jack Knight’s feet, was their old friend Mikaal. The hero of Opal City didn’t appear to have been in a battle, but he was in a bad way. His blue skin was pale and flush, his red hair tangled from sweat, and his features sunken with a form of hunger.
It was not the first time the Knights had seen this Starman in such a state.
“Help me,” whispered Mikaal, pitifully.
# # # # #
“They have him resting comfortably now,” Jack Knight said to his son, outside S.T.A.R. Labs.
It was an old routine. Mikaal would arrive, strung out or in withdrawal, on the Knights’ doorstep. They would get him to S.T.A.R. Labs, the most suitable facility for his alien physiology. After a few days, Mikaal would be recovered enough to be on his way, after Jack refuses the request that is always made. They cycle would usually repeat after a little more than two years.
In times past, Kyle had guiltily enjoyed these visits, as it was an opportunity to accompany his father into S.T.A.R. Labs. This time he’d had to wait outside the building. He was still curious though, and had to satisfy it somehow.
“Dad, why does Mikaal always come to you when he’s in these benders?”
“Well, Kyle, you should know that some junkies have a habit with their habits. And with everybody in Opal City looking up to him, Mikaal can’t bear for any of them to see him like this.”
Kyle rolled his eyes, and this time was unwilling to accept the protective lie. “Dad, please. The way he’s yelled, I couldn’t help but overhear some of what he asks. He thinks the staff can help him, somehow.”
“Oh, that.” Jack sighed. “You remember the story about how I went into the future, right? About what happened to the Shade?”
“Yeah, that his darkness had become infected and out of control. The power of your Cosmic Staff cures him in the future, and you did it once you returned to the present, so it may never happen.” Kyle understood then, but shook his head. “That shouldn’t work with Mikaal, though. The energy of the staff, it’s the same as sonic crystal embedded in his chest. And it’s never cured addiction before, has it?”
“Yes to the first, no to the second,” Jack said. “Mikaal has no rational reason to think I can help him, but the fact is that in these states he’s not rational. Years ago I was convinced not to give in to him, that to try and fail could do even worse for him. Eventually Mikael sees reason and moves on.”
“Until he relapses.” Kyle looked up at the building. “There has to be some way to help him. Some treatment.”
“Addiction is part of Mikaal's alien biology,” Jack told his son. “As a race they were addicted to combat, and without that they seek other forms of release. It was so much worse, before I’d met him. And with Mikaal being the last of his kind, we just don’t know enough to help him. Not entirely.”
Jack put his arm around Kyle’s shoulder. “Now come on, it’s getting late. You can ask after him tomorrow, when you’re here for work.”
# # # # #
Mikaal Tomas was surprised when S.T.A.R. Labs discharged him. Usually Jack Knight was there to help him out. They would stop somewhere for coffee and argue. Then Jack would invite Mikaal to eat at his house, with his family, and they would argue some more. That Jack wasn’t there as Mikaal was being pushed out of his room in a wheelchair it worried him, and he began to itch.
So when Mikaal was pushed into the lobby, he was relieved to see Kyle Knight. The young man looked well, considering the last time Mikaal had seen him. Tall and well-built, he looked so strong, a typical heroic look that his father lacked. Kyle didn’t look very heroic then, however. He looked guilty.
“Hey Mikaal.” Kyle nodded at the guard, and was allowed to help Mikaal out of the wheelchair. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m well enough,” Mikaal said. “I can, can walk on my own.”
“Okay.” Kyle still held Mikaal, but allowed him to step away from him. Which Mikaal did, shakily at first. But he was soon steady, and Kyle smiled. “Let’s get you some coffee.”
Soon they were seated across from each other at a booth in a nearby coffee shop. Kyle began to make his proposal. “My father told me about your request. To be honest Mikaal, I don’t think the staff could help. The stellar energy doesn’t affect the body in that way, not the way it did the Shade.”
Mikaal began to feel the itch, when Kyle continued. “But I think there might be another way to help you. You remember who my other grandfather was?”
Mikaal nodded. “The Mist. A cruel if pathetic man.”
Kyle made an uncomfortable gesture. “Yes, well, he was also a genius in his own right. It was a device he invented that gave him and his…my mother, their powers. But from what I’ve read that was not its intended use. There were experiments where it’s power was focused on the hull of a ship, or a building foundation, and after a short time the affected material would just fade away. I think if I can isolate those substances in your body and focus the device’s power on just them, that the same thing will happen.”
“A sort of detox.” Mikaal was grasping the concept. “And in this way end my addition to your planet’s chemicals.”
“I really it’s not a perfect fix,” Kyle said quickly. “Addiction is wired into your species. But with a clean slate in this regard, and proper support, you can focus your compulsions on more positive things. What do you say? I can take a blood sample and run some tests tonight.”
“Absolutely not.” Jack was standing over the table, as angry as his son had ever seen him. He’d only heard the end of the conversation. “What the hell were you thinking, Kyle, checking Mikaal out without me there? Mikaal, I’m sorry. I told him the staff cannot be used in this way.”
“And he agrees.” Mikaal briefly described Kyle’s proposal.
That was when Jack Knight got angrier than Kyle had ever seen. “Wait outside while I take with Mikaal alone.”
“Dad, I-”
“Get outside now!” Everybody inside jumped at the exclamation.
# # # # #
There was no knock before Jack Knight opened the door to his son’s room. That served as a red flag to Kyle to how far he’d gone in his father’s eyes. The other thing he noticed was the box his father carried inside, a large and old thing of metal that didn’t look very heavy.
“Mikaal just left,” Jack said. “This was tougher than the other times, the point that I’m worried where he’s going next. I…I don’t…” Jack set the box down and ran a hand through his hair, flummoxed. “When they told me that you had already left with him, I was actually a little proud. But then I walked in, and I heard you asking Mikaal for a blood sample.”
“Dad, I-”
Jack held his hand out, and Kyle closed his mouth. “The worst thing is, I’m questioning whether you even care about him at all. That this isn’t just you looking for an experiment. And not just any experiment.”
Jack looked down at the old box, with the tubes and dials sticking out of it. “Did you know that the Mist specifically built this to kill people? It was in one of the diaries that Wesley left me. He first saw it used on a rabbit. The thing just…was vaporized.”
“Yeah, it was a demonstration for some military contract.” Kyle had read the diaries. “He also used it to sink a ship and collapse a building. Hits for the mob or something.”
“That was what he used his genius for. This was the kind of man he was. Your grandfather.”
Kyle had no illusions about that. “He shot my other, his own daughter, while I was in her arms. I have never…I still don’t question what I’ve been told about him.” Kyle gestured at the box. “That he lacked imagination doesn’t change the fact that that could be used to eliminate waste. There is so much that can’t be broken down, this could get rid of-”
“That is not what you were proposing to Mikaal,” Jack said quietly. “You suggested using this on a living being. With no knowledge of how it works or even affects a target, you wanted to try it on one of my oldest friends. A man who, let’s be honest, didn’t really have the capacity to say ‘no’. Do you not see what a despicable thing that is.”
“I didn’t mean…” Kyle put his hands to his head. “The idea had just come to me. Obviously I wouldn’t imme-” Kyle leaned his head back and almost laughed. “But no, it wouldn’t be obvious. You’ve been doubting my intentions for a while.”
“No, it isn’t that I doubt your intentions,” Jack said. “But since before you announced this year off, I’ve seen you be nothing but reckless. And it’s the worst kind, very…deliberate. From your experiments with stellar energy to your lack to your lack of concern over Willie-”
“We went over that.”
Jack ignored his son’s protest. “And now this interest in this…weapon. Well, here it is. A lot of the guts have been ripped out, and of course there’s no power source. This, you’re free to look at to your heart’s content.”
Kyle did not expect to hear those words. “I…you’ve pretty much just said I betrayed your trust. Why would you offer…?”
“I’m not offering you anything but a box of junk to waste time on,” Jack said. “Kyle, I know that whatever I say or do, you’ll pursue your ideas. All I ask is that you go slow, take your time to do this right. And for god’s sake, don’t go making promises to drug addicted aliens.”
This time Kyle did laugh. “All right, Dad. That was…it was wrong of me. I’m sorry.”
“Also, you’re not going to your cousin’s birthday party.”
“What? But Dad-”
“No arguments,” said Jack sternly. “This is the consequence of your actions. No trip to Karaltine for you.”
Next Issue: While the Knight family face surprises on an alien world, Kyle’s boss goes on a rampage.