Chapter 3 – Somebody Has a Crush

“Hey, Charlie?”

Charlie Peters turned to see Zann Avogadro standing in the hallway next to Kim Yang and Dan Ricardi, Kim’s boyfriend. Charlie swallowed. Zann Avogadro, the prettiest girl in tenth grade, wanted to talk to him. “Oh, uh, hi.”

“That’s not the same shirt you were wearing on the bus,” Kim said.

“Uh, no, my shirt got torn when Rev rescued me, so he took me home so I could get a fresh one,” Charlie said.

“So what’s he like?” Zann asked.

“Oh, well, he’s the best, you know,” Charlie said. “He’s stronger than anybody.”

“He’s not stronger than Invictus,” Dan said.

“He’s way stronger than Invictus,” Charlie said, “plus he can fly.”

“Yeah, but didn’t he seem a little weird to you?” Kim asked.

“Like how?”

“Well, weren’t his pants kind of like, really tight?” Kim asked. “That seems a little creepy.”

“He’s not creepy. He’s really nice,” Charlie said. He turned to Zann. “You know, he was asking about you.”

“Ew,” Kim said. “Perv.”

“He’s not a perv,” Charlie said.

“Um, grown man interested in fifteen-year-olds?” Kim said. “Definitely a perv.”

“He’s not like that,” Charlie said, feeling his face flush. “He’s not even interested in her that way. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Sounds like somebody has a crush,” Dan said to Kim.

“Yeah. Jealous much?” Kim agreed.

“Screw you guys!” Charlie stomped away, fighting to get his breathing under control. He couldn’t let himself get carried away.

“Charlie?”

He looked back to see Zann hurry up beside him. He turned and kept walking. Zann struggled to keep pace, even though she was an inch taller than he was. “Don’t worry about them,” Zann said. “They’re jerks.”

“What do you want?” Charlie asked, not yet ready to declare a truce. After all, she hadn’t been the one they’d picked on. She was pretty and popular, and her father was a Senator, rich and powerful. She had no idea what it was like for him.

“Well,” Zann said hesitantly, “you’re always studying up on these heroes and stuff, right?”

“Yeah, so?”

Zann thought for a moment, then said, “Well, when we were on the bridge, I saw these cops pull this gun out of a wrecked car that shot exploding bees…”

“A car that shot exploding bees?”

“No, the gun did,” Zann said. “But anyway, one of the cops said something like ‘they’re here already,’ and the other guy didn’t seem too happy about it.”

“Huh…”

“Do you have any idea what they were talking about?”

“Not really,” Charlie said. “I mean, a bee-shooting gun, that sounds like a bad guy, but it’s not one I’ve ever heard of.”

“Yeah.”

“But it’s nothing to worry about. Rev can handle it, whatever it is.”

Zann nodded. “You really like him, huh?”

Charlie’s smile returned. “He’s the best. And pretty soon, everybody in the world will know it.”

“What does that mean?” Zann asked.

“I’m not supposed to talk about it. But it’s going to be really big, trust me.”

“Well, that’s cool, I guess.” Zann turned to leave, but hesitated. “Did he really ask about me?”

“Yeah,” Charlie said. “He saw you get off the bus, and he thinks you’re really pretty.”

“God, how old is he?” Zann asked. “That is kind of weird, you know.”

It’s not weird,” Charlie said. “It’s the truth. You are.”

He didn’t know what to say after that, just stood there staring uncomfortably at her. He sighed with relief when the second bell rang, so he could turn away and head for class. He only let himself look back at Zann’s legs once.

########

There is a stretch of land on the Siberian-Mongolian border between Ulan Ude and Ulan Bator, roughly the size of Israel. It is home to one of the harshest climates on Earth–numbing cold in winter, brutally hot in summer. The people who live there are shriveled and hard, as if chiseled out of the very rock. They are able to withstand any hardship, overcome any challenge.

The boundaries of this remote region are not noted on any map nor is it recognized by any of the world’s countries as a sovereign nation. However, neither the Russians nor the Mongolians nor even the UN dare go there in any official capacity. For the man who rules over this tiny stretch of land, with its harsh landscape and its seemingly indestructible people, is one of the fiercest and most dangerous men on Earth.

The Cobalt Czar was tall, over seven feet of burly muscle, shaggy hair, and radioactive power. And he was blue, a deep blue that shaded almost into purple along the veins that bulged under his skin like poisonous vipers. He ruled his small territory absolutely, through strength and terror, but unlike other petty dictators, he had no love of luxury so could not be corrupted by it. It was this last quality which made even the rulers of the greatest nations on Earth tremble at the thought of him, for he could not be bought off nor easily controlled. He could only be stopped by greater strength, and there were few heroes, or even nations, up to the attempt.

But even the mighty Czar deferred to the stranger now standing before him, dressed in a long coat and red boots, a hat pulled low to hide his face in shadow. The Czar paused in his daily workout. He dropped the two boulders he was using as weights–strapped with thick steel cables for handles–to the ground.

“You haven’t come to visit in a long time,” the Czar said in English. “Have you come to fight me again?”

“Do I have a reason to fight you?” The stranger’s voice was a harsh, rasping whisper.

The Czar laughed, a noise that boomed and rolled across the tundra and caused the people in the village down the valley to quake in fear. “You’ve never needed one before.”

“I had reasons that satisfied me,” the stranger said to the Czar’s feet. If he hadn’t known better, the Czar would have thought the stranger was cowed by him. “What they were is none of your concern.”

“Exactly,” the Czar said. “A reason is the weak man’s way, a feeble justification of his wants. You and I, we’re above that now, aren’t we? We take what we want without explanation or apology.”

The stranger’s gaze lifted, revealing the red mask he wore under the hat. Typical American superhero, hiding behind a colorful costume instead of owning his power proudly. But as their eyes met, the Czar was reminded that there was nothing typical about this man. He was the only man in years who had spoken face-to-face with the Czar without even a hint of fear.

“I’m nothing like you,” the stranger said. “I’m a force for good.”

“As you say. What do you want?”

“You had a fight recently,” the stranger said.

The Czar smiled. “Yes, it was a good one. A dinosaur, huge, much bigger than anything I’d heard of before. I expected to see you here, watching that one. It was spectacular.”

“Where did it come from?”

The Czar shrugged. “Where do they ever come from? They attack, and I kill them.”

“Was there anything special about it? Anything you can remember?”

“Oh yes, certainly. It was purple. And it sang.”

The stranger’s eyes narrowed, but he made no other reaction. “Sang what?”

“Some sort of nursery rhyme. In English.”

The stranger sang two lines in his harsh voiceless rasp, and the Czar nodded. “Yes, that was it. Ironic, don’t you think, to sing of being a happy family while trying to devour me whole?”

The stranger said nothing for a few moments. It disturbed the Czar to see this man so lost in thought. A man of his power should never appear at a loss.

“Why do you care anyway?” the Czar asked. “I should think you’d be glad to see me beaten.”

“If I cared to see you beaten, I’d do it myself,” the stranger said. “But the thing you fought, that’s a power that’s been asleep a long time. Why has he come back?”

“Who cares?” the Czar boomed. “I broke his bones and seared his flesh. This ‘power’ you fear so much has been put back to sleep forever.”

The stranger shook his head slowly. “You didn’t touch him. Did he say anything?”

“Who? The dinosaur? No talking, only singing.” The Czar smiled to show uneven yellowed teeth. “And then screaming. I think you could say I touched him.”

“Do you mind showing me the body, then?”

“There is no body,” the Czar admitted. “When I hit him with my blue beams, he burned away to nothing. Totally disintegrated.”

“Really? Not even a scrap left? And you’re not the least bit curious what it was or where it came from?”

“Not really,” the Czar said, hefting his boulders once again. “They come, I kill them. Today, a dinosaur, tomorrow the Chinese, and after that the Russians, or American superheroes, or aliens from space. I crush them all the same.”

He slammed the boulders together, shattering them. Rock fragments pelted the stranger, but he didn’t flinch.

“Keep thinking positive,” the stranger said. “But if something like this happens again, ask him why. He’s warming up, getting the rust off. I need to know the reason.”

“I live to do favors for you,” the Czar said, turning to walk back to his fortress. “Next time you visit, have a real reason.”

But there was no answer, and when the Czar glanced back, the stranger was gone.