By Zachary Shields
“What made you want to be a superhero, anyway?”
Leslie Lewis was startled by the question. The stone-faced lady filling out her superhero license application couldn’t really be looking for an answer. What was Leslie supposed to say, that she wanted to use her powers for good?
She swallowed hard. “Um, my mother was a superhero, and I really want to, uh… carry on her legacy.”
That was a safe answer, and it was true.
“Uh-huh. What exactly are your powers?”
Seriously? Couldn’t she read the doctor’s superpower certificate? “Um, well… the technical name is mempathy…”
“And what does mempathy do, again?”
Leslie shifted uncomfortably. “I… I can see memories. Like pictures, or… silent movies?”
That answer usually earned some half-hearted compliments, but Lady Stoneface only adjusted her thick glasses. “But you can’t read their minds.”
“No, ma’am.”
“Or influence their emotions.”
Sigh. “No, ma’am.”
“Can you project your memories onto people? Or make them relive their pasts?”
“No.”
Wrinkles furrowed those granite cheeks. “Do you have any secondary powers?”
It was all Leslie could do not to hang her head. “Just the basics. Enhanced strength, senses…”
“So then why are you here?” Stoneface didn’t wait for an answer before turning back to her screen. Leslie couldn’t blame her skepticism. It wasn’t like her powers gave her an edge over supervillains, like the Human Nuke, Doctor Starfish, or even Crazy Count. As superhumans went, she was barely a Level One.
Unlike you, Mom. Telekinesis, telepathy, flight…why couldn’t you have spared me just a few of your genes?
As the clerk puttered away on the keyboard, a new memory flashed across Leslie’s mind—one that wasn’t hers.
Images on the screen… Pictures of Leslie… Pictures of Mom… Records of her past three applications…
“Ms. Lewis?”
Leslie blinked. “Sorry.”
“Do you have any enhancements?” Stoneface didn’t miss a beat. “Cybernetics? Armored suits? Power gauntlets?”
“No.”
“Martial arts training? Krav Maga, Karate, or Tae Kwon Do?”
“No.”
“Are you a billionaire?”
Excuse me? “Absolutely not.”
The lady jotted down some notes, frowned, then punched some keys. Red light flashed from her desktop screen, and Leslie’s heart sank as she braced herself for the inevitable.
“Your application for an S.E.A. superhero license…” Lady Stoneface paused as if for effect. “…has been denied.”
Leslie blinked back hot tears as she nodded. Stoneface handed her papers back and leaned forward.
“Look here.” She whispered in a tone somewhere between understanding and exasperation. “Do us all a big favor and let this be the last time, okay?”
Leslie bit her lip. Someone, just shoot me already. Please.
She thanked the clerk and started toward the door. All that hard work, and she didn’t even get to take the hero’s test.
***
Leslie had just slipped on pajama pants and a ratty t-shirt for her date night with Jean-Luc Picard when the doorbell rang.
“Nobody’s home!” she snapped, then instantly felt stupid. Whoever it was, they would never go away now. Huffing, she tied her messy hair back in a ponytail as she hurried to the door.
A clean-shaven man with short, brown hair stood outside her apartment. He was dressed entirely in black—suit, tie, and even his starched-collar shirt.
Leslie’s face flushed. She was not dressed for this. “Can I help you?”
The man ventured a small smile. “Actually, Ms. Lewis, I was hoping that I might be of help to you.”
She scowled. “I don’t take salesmen at this hour. Or any hour, really.” She moved to close the door—couldn’t keep Picard waiting.
“Oh, I am not a salesman, I assure you.” The man quickly stopped the door with one hand. “You are Ms. Leslie Lewis, am I correct?”
“Yes?”
“Your mother was Silver Nova, leader of the Powers Society of Heroes?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Yes… So what?”
“You applied for an S.E.A. superhero license on four separate occasions—most recently this afternoon—and you were gently denied each time?”
Leslie clenched her fingers. “That’s none of your business.”
“I assure you, Ms. Lewis, it is nothing to be ashamed of. In fact, that was exactly where I was not five years ago.” The man fished a business card out of his pocket and offered it to her. Still eyeing him, Leslie examined it.
AGENT SMITH JOHNS
Superhuman Enforcement Agency
Superpowered Crimes Unit
The words were followed by a phone number.
“You’re kidding.”
“On the contrary, Ms. Lewis, I could not be more serious.” Smith casually matched her glare. “You see, not every case involving superhumans involves masks and capes. There are certain superpowered crimes that require, what’s the word…a subtler approach.”
Was this guy serious? Leslie crossed her arms. “But…I’m just a mempath. The S.E.A.…”
“…wants your talents, just in a different capacity.” Sympathy glinted in his periwinkle eyes. “I’m a polygrapher—a lie detector. No court will accept my testimony, so people said my powers were absolutely useless…” He grinned. “…before I found my niche. And now, I help others like me to find theirs.”
He nodded to the card. “Keep that—we’ll be talking again soon.”
Leslie shook her head as he turned to leave. It all sounded too good to be true. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”
Smith paused, then turned back, still grinning that stupid grin. “Now that was a lie.”
“I… well, I mean…”
But as she spoke, she glimpsed another memory—another not her own.
The villain seemed so confident, smug even, as Smith asked him question after question. But the polygrapher could hear the truth behind the lie. A faster heartbeat, a twitch of the eye, a dull ache in the back of Smith’s head…
She blinked. Smith smiled. “Give me a call. Don’t wait.” Then he turned and walked away.
Leslie stood frozen for two minutes before she finally went inside. An evening watching Star Trek suddenly seemed far less appealing now.
***
Not three minutes later, Agent Smith Johns received a call from Leslie Lewis. He smiled as he answered. “Welcome to the team.”
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This story was so much fun to write!