Chapter Two Hundred and Sixty-Four: An Invitation to Speak (Patreon)

I was in the middle of setting up the latest trial when my tablet’s speaker interruped. “Incoming call from Kalachakra.”

Sighing, I turned off the Bunsen burner. “Accept.”

The screen filled with the image of the ultra. “Belessar, I hope this is not a bad time?”

“Not really. I’m in between experiments, so to speak.”

“How are those going?”

“Well, Experiment #213 turned some very expensive glassware into molten goo, so I’m going for a more controlled burn on Experiment #214.”

“Ah. I do trust no-one was injured?”

“Only my budget. How can I help you, Kalachakra?”

“This has to do with the response to the incursion at Lonavala. There are a couple of findings from the inquiry, which I thought might interest you.”

“There was an inquiry?”

“Technically, it’s still going on. Six Members of Parliament, conducting an investigation into lapses in the defence at Lonavala.”

“... There were no lapses, Kalachakra. We were just outnumbered.”

“What you and I know instinctively might take Indian politicians a few months to understand. Is it any different in the United States?”

I thought back on my encounters with the American political and military establishments. “You do have a point. What were the findings?”

“They have ordered a military inquiry into the conduct of the officers on the ground, jointly with the Stratospheric Guard. Lieutenant-General Vohra will be appearing before a panel of senior officers, who will evaluate his performance.”

“That’s unfair. He did the best he could.”

“I suppose the military judges will make that determination. In any case, that’s not the only recommendation. They also asked why so few Indian ultras showed up at Lonavala.”

“Weren’t there traffic jams?”

“Several, and by the time we got helicopters organized, the battle was over. However, that’s only a part of it.” Kalachakra paused. “Roughly one in ten thousand humans is an ultra. Mumbai has a population of twenty-five million, and Pune another seven million - both cities are less than an hour’s drive from Lonavala. They should have three thousand two hundred ultras between them.”

That was quite a number. “How many ultras volunteered for the defence of Lonavala?”

“Less than three hundred. Both cities combined.” Kalachakra paused. “There are a total of four hundred and ninety SURGE pagers issued to ultras in these cities.”

“That’s a fraction of the ultra population.”

“Which is why the government is pushing a registration drive. They’ve planned a conference to invite all the eligible ultras in the city - both cities - to meet, talk to veterans of other defences, and inspire them to sign up.”

“I’m assuming they’ve done this before, and it didn’t really drive registrations?”

“Yes, but a couple of things have changed. The reasons ultras stayed away from registering with SURGE boil down to two - either they’re villains who don’t trust the government, or they believe they won’t survive the fight, and since someone else is doing the fighting anyway, they may as well stay safe at home.”

I frowned. “Does Mumbai have a lot of supervillains? I hadn’t heard of there being hundreds.”

“Publicly, only about a dozen, and they mostly maintain a low profile. It’s believed that the low registrations are primarily out of fear.”

“I won’t say there’s nothing to fear, but what’s changed? Why does the committee think it’ll work this time?”

“Two reasons. First, they’re dedicating the conference to Agni and her unique heroism.”

I flinched internally. “She wouldn’t have liked that.”

“Nonetheless, they think it’ll inspire a number of ultras - especially women - to register. For cultural reasons, there is a far lower registration rate amongst women ultras in India than for men. If using Agni’s name and reputation gets them to sign up, get the training they need….”

“I still don’t think it’s a great idea.”

“I’m afraid the decision has been made at a far higher level than the two of us.”

“Government?”

“I have it on good authority that Prime Minister Narayanswamy himself is pushing this.”

I sucked in a breath. Could I really object to the leader of Agni’s home country using her name in a recruitment ad? 

Probably not. It wasn’t my country anyway. 

“Fine. I’m not really comfortable with it, but you do you.”

“Actually, there was another request - specifically from the same source. They’d like you to speak at the conference.”

I drew in a sharp breath. “You want me to speak at a conference … that misuses Agni’s name.”

“Actually, I want you to talk to people about what alien battles are really like. Very few people actually understand what it’s like.”

“That can’t be right. There are video recordings of every battle ever fought, a hundred documentaries, and probably a thousand movies a year.”

“Those don’t describe the real thing. You know that.”

“How would my talking help?”

“Belessar. You are aware of how people see you?”

“As an ultrahuman, of course. That doesn’t make me special.”

“Ahem. Most of the ultras we spoke to consider you invincible.”

I snorted, holding back laughter. “Hardly. I’ve nearly been killed half a dozen times.”

“But you survived. You have faced every single enemy that has come at you, across half a dozen battles, and lived to tell. Some of whom were the size of a small city.”

“That was just one battleship.”

“Just one battleship, he says. Belessar, most of the ultrahumans in Mumbai will show up just to meet you. Talk to you. Touch your feet, take your blessings, whatever it takes.”

“You might be overstating my importance. There are plenty of people who hate me.”

“Take it from someone familiar with the Indian ultra scene. There are far more who’d willingly worship the ground you walk upon.”

“... and that’s supposed to reassure me?”

“Belessar, it is a request. We think that your presence alone would ensure at least six hundred ultras showing up, just for the opportunity to see you in person. Possibly more. Once they’re there - once they’ve declared themselves ultras - the government can make a pitch to them.” Kalachakra paused. “Also, while it’s entirely up to you, we were hoping you’d offer healing the malady to those who volunteer to register with SURGE for future battles.”

“Seems a bit unfair to those who have to wait for Aerovascar doses.”

“You never know. You might find another inventor specialized in chemical synthesis there.”

That… was a real possibility. 

Most inventors specialized in a limited range of technology, built around a single theme. Considering that inventors made up almost an eighth of all ultras, the chances of finding a chemical inventor amongst a gathering of five hundred ultrahumans were - not negligible.

“I want to wear suitable armour,” I said. “Nothing that lets me get ambushed easily.”

“You are welcome to wear whatever you choose.”

“I don’t think the Greyhound would fit inside a building.”

“We had in mind a somewhat different venue.”

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The open-air lawns of the Bombay Gymkhana were lush and green, a fitting backdrop to the dozens of tables set up amidst them. Bright white tablecloths and specially designed chairs, flower vases at the centre, and a buffet that spread across nearly thirty different dishes made the scene look like one giant party. 

The clubhouse, located at the centre of the grounds, had an open balcony which was clearly visible from every corner. “That’s where you’ll be speaking from,” Kalachakra explained to me. 

I glanced at the crowd, already hundreds strong. “Are you sure they’re all ultras?”

“Except for the caterers, everyone in there is an ultra or a government official. Relax. We’ve already crossed seven hundred guests.”

As he spoke, a man with giant, bat-like wings descended amidst the crowd, landing next to a sign marked DESIGNATED LANDING AREA.

“Seven hundred and twenty-two,” commented Kalachakra happily, as a uniformed policeman handed the ultra a lanyard with a badge and a gift bag. “And a flyer, at that.”

“What’s in the bags?”

“Oh, you like them? An inspired idea from one of our Ministry contacts. A box of sweets, a free tablet with a video on it explaining the various benefits of serving in a defence action, and a free SURGE pager.”

“Aren’t you guys laying it on a bit thick?”

“With this crowd, there’s no such thing. Besides, if we get one or two ultras like you, it’ll be worth every rupee.”

I snorted. “Nobody handed me a box of sweets when I joined up.”

“If I recall correctly, you were paid about seven hundred thousand dollars for your first battle, were you not?”

… Technically, he wasn’t wrong. 

“Do not worry, Belessar. Most of the ultras here have stayed away from participating in alien defences for one reason only - they remain unsure of whether they will survive. Reassuring them of their safety is, perhaps, the most valuable contribution you can offer to the cause.”

“Battles are hardly safe places, Kalachakra. I’m not going to hide that.”

“Then perhaps you can emphasize that staying away from them does not make you any safer. As the good citizens of Mumbai can attest.”

As Kalachakra wandered away, I turned my attention to the crowd. With Observe running overtime, it was fairly easy for me to get a read on the arriving ultras. 

True to form, virtually everyone I scanned had a power.

NYAYBANDHU

LEVEL 20

CLASS: SAVANT

A DETECTIVE FIT TO RIVAL SHERLOCK HOLMES, NYAYBANDHU CAN INFER THE HISTORY OF ANY ITEM BY EXAMINING IT CLOSELY. THIS MAKES HIM IMMENSELY VALUABLE TO THE HOMICIDE DEPARTMENT OF THE MUMBAI POLICE.

MOHRA

LEVEL 36

CLASS: SUMMONER

ONE OF MUMBAI’S PREMIER HEROES, CAN CREATE CLONED BODIES OF HIMSELF WHICH CAN BE SENT INTO DANGER WHILE THE PRIMARY BODY REMAINS SAFE. LIMITED TO THREE CLONES AT A TIME. 

“Checking out the fresh meat?” A familiar voice rang out behind me.

I smiled. “Unity. They invite you too?”

“The minute they said free booze, I was in. How’re you doing, Belessar?” 

“I’m all right.”

“Missed you at the post-Lonella conference.”

I blinked. “You mean the post Lonavala conference?”

“Yeah, that one. Can never get these weird city names right.”

“They called Hifara, because she was the anchor for the battle. I was in the middle of search and rescue, so I decided to give it a pass.”

“How does someone pass you up for anchor? You killed, like, fifty Carnotaurs.”

I chuckled. “Hifara detonated a nuclear warhead in the heart of the alien camp, and wiped out hundreds of Grizzeloid Stealth Tanks and a ungodly number of Rovers, and a whole lot more Carnotaurs.”

“Yeah, but you came up with the plan.”

“Which her power made possible. Anyway, I don’t mind being classed as a Frontliner; it wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Heh. Selfless as usual. Say, any decent-looking guys around here?”

I raised an eyebrow. “What happened with you and Quantosphere?”

“He’s nice, but a girl likes some variety every now and then. You got any recommendations?”

“It’s not like I know any of them. Maybe you can ask Devilmade.”

“She’s here?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Why, Belessar,” a sultry voice rang out, “it’s almost like you don’t want me.”

Devilmade ‘popped’ into existence, clinging onto my shoulder. “How’ve you been, my big, strong hunk?”

I sighed. “Please remove your hand, Devilmade.”

“Sure, sure. Just saying, it’s been a while since we had a nice, candlelight dinner…”

“We’ve never had dinner. Or lunch. Or any meal together.”

“Oh, pooh. You spoil all the fun.”

Unity chuckled. “Devilmade, wanna go check out the local selection?” 

The teleporter pouted. “I suppose I must, since Belessar doesn’t want to play… You don’t mind, do you, Bel?”

“Not at all, Devilmade.”

Devilmade bowed. I hadn’t imagined a bow could be flirty; unfortunately, her imagination was far superior to mine in this regard. 

The two female ultras decamped, two lionesses in search of prey. I almost pitied the poor Indian ultras who crossed their path.

Almost. Self-preservation comes first, after all. 

A short woman in a purple bodysuit with silver sequins walked up to me. “Belessar?”

SHADOW

LEVEL 5

CLASS: SHIFTER

SKILL: THE HEROINE WITH A THOUSAND FACES

SHADOW CAN TAKE ON THE FEATURES AND BODY SHAPES OF VIRTUALLY ANY WOMAN. SHE WOULD BE A GREAT SPY, IF SHE COULD ONLY ACT.

SERIOUSLY, NEVER ATTEND A DRAMA IF SHE’S PERFORMING.

“Hello, Shadow.”

“Didn’t think you would remember me.”

“We met in London, and you were part of the response team at Lonavala. Of course I remember you.”

“Cool. Kalachakra says you’re giving a speech today.”

“For my sins. I’ll try not to bore too many people.”

“Yeah, I think he means you’re giving it in the next five minutes. He sent me to fetch you.”

“He’s using you as his errand girl?”

“It’s called an internship. But yes, there are errands.”

“... You don’t mind?”

“Hey, Kalachakra is a big-time government thingie. If I do well on the internship, I get a recommendation for… a thingie.”

“You mean a movie role?”

“How did you know about that? Is Nanocloud tracking me?”

“Good heavens, no. It was an educated guess.”

“... Sure, let’s go with that. Anyway, it’s a TV role with a government-backed drama. And technically it wasn’t Kalachakra who suggested it.”

“Who did?”

“Let’s just say a friend in a very high place. Anyway, you doing the speech?”

“Ready as ever.”

“Cool. So you can follow me to the stairs.”

“No need.” With that, I strode on to the lawn. 

“Belessar, stairs are that way!” Shadow sounded annoyed.

“We’re ultras,” I replied. “Which means we can do this.”

And with that, I jumped.

Or should I say, Powerjumped. 

Nanofibre weave is comfortable, and easy to mix with people in. Less intimidating than Boar Armour. And light - the lightest, by weight, of any of my armours.

My increase in vitality, coupled with healthy eating, had raised my weight to a respectable one hundred and ten kilos - a BMI of just over twenty-five, which was supposedly healthy. My carry capacity of a hundred and thirty-two kilos allowed me to tote around an ungodly amount of short-range weapons and ammunition in my inventory, including a HEPAR, nanothorn kukri, and a Hellfire-XII, just in case I needed to one-shot a tank. (All invisible and undetectable to the naked eye, thanks to the weird nature of dimensional pockets in which my Inventory was stored.) All in all, my feet trod the ground with close to two hundred kilos of weight. 

Which meant that my Powerjump carried me fifteen feet into the air for a measly 30 MP, resulting in a gentle landing on the balcony. 

It was also a FANTASTIC way to get everyone’s attention.

With the eyes of more than seven hundred ultras on me, I turned to the microphone. “Good evening. I am Belessar.” 

“Nice jump!” someone called from behind.

“Thank you,” I replied. “It was fun. We spend so much of our time blending into society, going by normal rules, that sometimes we forget what we are truly capable of.” 

With that, I took off my mask. 

A hush fell across the crowd. Doubtless they’d all seen pictures of me without the mask - my face was more recognizable than the President’s, nowadays - but the very act of unmasking made some of them flinch.

“Don’t be afraid,” I said. “I’m not. I used to be, once upon a time; then, well, things changed.”

“We don’t want to unmask!” someone shouted.

“Then don’t,” I replied. “I’m not here to ask you to give up your secret identities. Mine was, as you know, taken from me.”

The crowd fell silent.

“Our masks sometimes hide our inner selves. More often, they serve as a shield between us and our fears. Because let’s face it - this is what we fear, more than anything else.

“Being exposed. Having our private lives - our birth names, our family - plastered all over the internet. Becoming targets for those less principled than us, for blackmail, even exposing our families to the danger that comes with being an ultrahuman.

“And yet, sometimes the ones who discover our secret have secrets of their own. The first person outside my family to discover the secret identity of Belessar was - none other than Agni.”

I paused, remembering that day. “I remember seeing her in our drawing room, flame in hand, while I was struggling to put on my pyjamas. My father talked to her, gave her a cup of tea, and we then talked it over like adults. Well, Dad talked - I mostly glowered. In time, though, we became good friends, and more.

“There was a time when I feared Agni - until I got to know her. Believe it or not, there was a time when I feared going into battle against the aliens. Why did I finally choose to volunteer?

“Because it wasn’t about me. It was about protecting my family, with everything I had. That’s why I went to New York, and that path led me to where I am today.

“At New York, I fought by myself. At Liverpool, my sister came with me. Nanocloud is a lot less powerful than I am - a fact she herself acknowledges - and yet, she wanted to be a part of that battle. Because I was there.

“Nanocloud is Support, and always has been. That is the nature of her talent. It doesn’t mean she can’t fight, and her powers make her a massive force multiplier. It does, however, mean that any one of thousands of different alien combatants - a Sarnak, a Raptor, a Lynxian - could ambush her at any time.

“So, when she goes into battle, she does so as part of a team. Support ultras are embedded with those who can shield them, if things go wrong. Either other ultras, or soldiers tasked for their protection.

“Depending on your power, you may be suited to a support or ranged position. A very few of you will be frontliners - which is okay, because truth be told, we have enough frontliners. 

“I won’t lie to you - every role on the battlefield is dangerous. Frontliners have the highest casualties, but so do ranged and support ultras. Unfortunately, so do civilians.” I paused for effect. “As we saw at Tanisport. As you are seeing, right now, in Mumbai.

“Some of you may feel that staying away will keep you safe. I wish that were true. Tanisport was full of people who stayed away from Hierarchy-related activities - school-age children, taxi drivers, office workers, retirees. The Hierarchy bombardment and ground attack didn’t spare anyone. 

“Yet, those of us who had powers that could help, did our best. There were moments where I found myself wishing - and hoping - for people with other powers to show up. Healers. Elementals who could stabilize collapsing buildings. Precogs to tell us where the enemy would strike next, and farcogs to tell us where they were at the moment. Masters, to capture and interrogate enemy prisoners.” I let that sink in. “Savants, who could deduce what the enemy might be planning, or find gaps in their defences. Flyers who could evacuate people from the upper floors of burning buildings, and even Temporals if they could buy us a little bit more time.

“In the end, we succeeded because we worked together, as a team. Most of us survived. And those who sacrificed….” I forced to keep my voice calm. “Those who gave up everything, so that the rest of us may live? We honour them.”

A movement in the crowd caught my eye. Unity and Devilmade were standing together, watching me intently.

“Folks - you all know about Agni, and what she did to preserve my city. She didn’t fight for the money, or for the fame; she did it because of me. She stood by my side because of what we meant to each other. As Nanocloud stands by my side, because she’s my sister.

“It’s not only our loved ones who stand with us on the field. At Tanisport, I stood side by side with Indradhanush, a boy from this city, and I am proud to have served with him. I was by Mahotsukoi’s side when she pushed the Xeranai battleship into the ground, and I am proud to have flown with her. I was with Unity and Devilmade when we broke the enemy lines, and I am proud to have fought alongside them.

“Unity and Devilmade are here tonight, for those of you who want to meet two true heroes in the flesh.” I waved at the two. Unity grinned back, taking a bow, while Devilmade chuckled. 

“Let me also say that the bonds forged in battle go far beyond the battlefield. As I mentioned, I am proud to have fought alongside Unity - and should she ever need my help, she will have it. The same goes for Devilmade. I am proud to call them both my friends, and to offer my aid whenever they need it.”

A smattering of applause. 

“Even after Tanisport, I have continued to serve. To place myself as a shield between the Hierarchy and our people. Not because I’m paid - that’s a very small part of why we fight.

“We fight for the person beside us. We fight, because it is on that battlefield that we find our true friends. We fight, and we keep fighting, because those we stand with today will stand with us tomorrow. 

“I am not going to talk of the honour in protecting your country, or how much money you make even as a support ultra - you all know this. I am not going to tell you it’s safe, because it is not.

“I am here because my friends have stood by me, against the Hierarchy, and we pushed them back. I am here to ask whether you will stand by me, the next time the Hierarchy comes, so that I may stand by you in turn. I am here because every ultra who steps forward to face the Hierarchy, to protect our world from them, is someone I would count as a friend.

“And for those who tell you how dangerous it is? It’s dangerous to jump off a roof, as well.” With that, I took a step forward… and jumped.

Levitation slowed my fall, resulting in me gently floating to the ground, even as I continued to speak.

“We’re ultras. The normal definitions of ‘dangerous’ do not apply.”

With a gentle thud, I landed on the lawn.

“I’m now available for questions,” I quipped. “Normally, we’d ask for a show of hands, but that’s meant for human journalists. You’re ultras. Let’s talk.”

The nearest ultra - a man in a brown costume with a black turban and half-mask - spoke up. “Are you saying you just want to make friends?”

“Don’t we all? I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.”

“Rubaru.”

Observe filled me in on the blanks.

RUBARU

LEVEL 16

CLASS: TEMPORAL

RUBARU GAINED POWERS THREE YEARS AGO AND HAS MOSTLY HELD BACK FROM USING THEM. HE CAN’T QUITE FIGURE OUT THE ANGLE TO MAKE MONEY WITH HIS PARTICULAR SKILL, AT LEAST NOT WITHOUT BREAKING THE LAW. 

SKILL: SLOW TIME

CAN ACCELERATE A PERSON’S PERCEPTION OF EVENTS SIGNIFICANTLY, ALLOWING THEM VASTLY IMPROVED REACTION TIME. HOWEVER, THIS EFFECT DOES NOT STRENGTHEN MUSCLES, SO EXTRA EFFORT IS NEEDED FOR THE PERSON TO ACTUALLY EFFECT CHANGE. FOR EXAMPLE, THE PERSON CAN SEE A SPEEDING BULLET, CAN TRY TO DODGE IT, BUT MAY PULL A BACK MUSCLE DUE TO NOT BEING USED TO THE SPEED AT WHICH THEY HAVE TO REACT.

“You’ll pardon me if that seems a bit unrealistic,” Rubaru continued. “In my experience, most people - ultras included - are selfish and self-centred. You have to look after yourself first.”

“Yourself and your family, you mean?”

“Well, naturally.”

“In my case, Rubaru, some of my fellow ultrahumans are family. Whether you count Agni or not, Nanocloud certainly is.”

“It’s rare for two ultrahumans to be related.”

“Not so rare for them to be married, is it? There was a team in London - BARD - where two of the members were married.”

“That part’s true,” added a short woman in a green costume festooned with spikes. “There are more than a hundred known ultra couples worldwide.”

“Not me,” replied Rubaru. “So why should I join up? Apart from the money.”

“Have you ever been in a defence action, Rubaru?” I asked.

“Not so far.”

“Then how do you know you won’t enjoy it?”

Rubaru gaped. “Enjoy? Aren’t these things desperate fights to survive?”

“So is mountain-climbing, but some people do it for fun.”

“Why would I enjoy putting myself in harm’s way?”

“You wouldn’t be at much risk. We’d partner you with a Summoner whose constructs are strong but slow. You accelerate the constructs so that they can think and act fast, and the constructs take down the enemy, while you’re sipping coffee at a safe distance.”

“So, you expect me to bond with this summoner? Build a dedicated friendship?”

“Think of it this way. Your powers synergize, he makes more money and you make more money. The two of you get to collect a decent paycheck for each hour of work, and the more you do, the more money you make. A shared love of money can be a great bonding experience.” 

“Assuming you find this hypothetical summoner who works well with me - why should I subject myself to hours of another person’s inane chatter?”

I grinned. “So if we find a summoner, you’ll give the alien defence a try?”

“Not saying no, but first you find this paragon.”

“That’s easy. When you show up at the assignment tent, ask to be paired with Mayen.” 

“Who?”

“Mayen is a summoner from Ghana. He makes stone golems, but they’re fairly slow-moving - Sarnak and Lynxians can run rings around them, or pick them off from a distance. Get them moving faster, though, and they can hit with the speed of a small locomotive.”

“I speed up thought processes, not inanimate objects.”

“Constructs can think, to about the same degree as animals do. You’ve tested on animals?”

Rubaru nodded slowly. “My cows. They became rather … excitable.”

“I won’t ask. You can contact Mayen, he’ll probably be amenable to a test run to see how you work as a team. In combat, they’ll assign you a non-ultra translator who speaks both Hausa and English or Hindi.”

“Mayen doesn’t jibber-jabber?”

“Mayen does not like to talk any more than necessary. You two will get along just fine. In case you start feeling bored, I suggest carrying a book.”

Leaving the nonplussed ultra thinking - or at least, stroking his beard in thought - I turned to the woman in green spiky faux-mail. “Nice to meet you, Miss…”

“Porcupine.”

“Ah, the spikes detach and attack the enemy?”

“What? No, my brother gave me the name because he thought I was too prickly.”

“Ah. What is your power then, Porcupine?”

“I’m a Herculean. Super strength. I’m not keen on being a frontliner, though.”

“You don’t have to be. We could always use people in support.”

“Yeah, like a Herculean would be in support.”

“Search and rescue is one area; strong people can always help shift broken beams, clear rubble, or just simply carry supplies to the frontline when transportation is not available or overloaded.”

“.... I hadn’t thought of that.”

“You can think through what your power lets you do, and write up a list of tasks you can help with. Submit that to the Stratospheric Guard, they’ll figure out a way to make use of you in any battle.” 

“I’ll do that."

“Out of curiosity, Porcupine’s something of an off-beat name.”

“Like I said, my little brother came up with it. I use it to honour his memory.”

“I’m sorry about your brother. How did he die?”

“We don’t know. He’s been missing for nearly a year, and nobody can find a clue.”

A sense of unease ran through me. “Is it still under investigation?”

“Yes, but… it’s been a year. Look, if you can help find him - or what happened to him - I’ll come to all the alien defences, okay? We’d just like some closure.”

A tiny notification began twinkling in the corner of my interface - one which I ruthlessly quashed down for the moment. “I’ll do what I can.”

“Thank you.” 

“Belessar,” a man in a light grey costume, with tiny suns patterned across it, spoke up. “I am Dawnlight. My power is to bend light into patterns that allow me to create illusions. What exactly can I do in a defence?”

I took a quick look at him.

DAWNLIGHT

LEVEL 22

CLASS: ELEMENTAL / ILLUSIONIST

SKILL: 

PALACE OF ILLUSION: CAN CRAFT LIFELIKE IMAGES OF SPECIFIC SCENES, INDISTINGUISHABLE UNLESS TOUCHED.

“I can think of several options,” I replied. “One is to create specific illusions that conceal the presence of other ultras or soldiers, allowing our troops to ambush the Hierarchy forces. This requires you to be a bit closer to the frontline, but you’ll get paid commensurately more.”

Dawnlight nodded. “That tallies with what I thought. But, I’m not sure what images to make. How do you tell what will fool the enemy?”

“You start out by pairing with a normal military unit, and ask them for ideas on how to best utilize your power.”

Rubaru snorted. “As if normals could tell us how to use our powers.”

“Do you drive a car, Rubaru?”

“Of course!”

“Do you ever get annoyed by things like traffic jams? Or bad roads?”

“Yes, especially when the city floods. Though that’s been less over the last few years, thanks to Mahaplumber.”

“... who?”

“Mahaplumber,” Dawnlight explained. “Hydrokinetic, controls water, keeps the city from flooding during monsoons.”

“I’d love to meet him, especially with a name like that. Rubaru, have you ever thought about how inefficiently the roads in the city are organised?”

“They are inefficient. What’s your point?”

“Consider that if the road planners listened to your advice, they might make better roads. After all, you’re the one using them.”

“That is certainly true.”

“Now consider that the military is the primary organisation with a history of fighting alien incursions. They have years of training, past lessons learnt, and a whole list of problems that need to be solved which cannot simply be dealt with by applying a bigger bomb. They know what can be handled by existing troops and capabilities and what needs ultrahuman intervention. They also know where the aliens’ weak points are, and at what place a well-timed illusion will completely wreck the alien invasion, rather than being a mild distraction.”

Rubaru looked thoughtful. Dawnlight, however, seemed to pick up the point quickly. “So you’re saying that I can be more effective if I let them tell me what they need.”

“Exactly. At London, instead of sending out nanobots as extended cutting tools, Nanocloud used them to coordinate a city-wide communications net. Less glamorous, but exactly what we needed. At Second Tanisport, human troops made a lot of headway against Raptor thrusts on the ground, but when they ran into challenges they couldn’t face - whether Puppetmaster Citadels or the Walking Fortress - that’s where we, as ultras, stepped in.”

“You mean you stepped in,” another ultra - the one I’d identified earlier as Nyaybandhu - spoke up. “You are the one who plans.”

“You’re partly right, Nyaybandhu. Yes, I do make battle plans, and strategies for fighting the enemy. And yes, I contribute to larger plans as well.” I paused. “But, if you want to be heard, you must first be willing to listen. When soldiers fighting the enemy are willing to listen to me, it’s not because I’m stronger, or faster, or more well-equipped. It’s because I listen, learn, and am willing to improve my ideas with those of others as well.”

“Are you telling me that you follow orders from the soldiers?” asked another ultra in a green cloak. “You are a thousand times as powerful as them, if not more. Why would you bother?”

“Me being a thousand times as powerful as an individual soldier doesn’t matter, because I’m not going to turn that power on him. Not on someone who trusts me.”

“That’s a naive view. True power comes from the potential we have, to destroy what stands in our way.”

“True power doesn’t come from destruction alone,” I replied.

“If that was true, they wouldn’t respect you,” the ultra responded. “They fear you. They fear what you can do, which is why they obey you.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name?” Even as I spoke, I was casting Observe.

“Dandadev.”

Even as the words left the man’s mouth, I could see a steadily widening circle around him.

DANDADEV

CLASS: MASTER

LEVEL: 25

ONE OF MUMBAI’S HIDDEN SUPERVILLAINS, DANDADEV - LITERALLY TRANSLATED, ‘GOD OF PUNISHMENT’ - HAS LONG HIDDEN FROM THE PUBLIC EYE, HIS NAME UTTERED ONLY IN THE SHADOWS. HIS POWER ALLOWS HIM TO DESIGNATE ANY INDIVIDUAL AN ENEMY, AND TO INFLICT EXCRUCIATING PAIN ON THE PERSON. THE LIMITS OF THE PAIN ARE NOT KNOWN, BUT IT IS RELIABLY BELIEVED TO HAVE TRIGGERED CARDIAC ARREST IN MORE THAN ONE TARGET.

A Master. A supervillain. And someone who probably had a body count. No wonder people were making space.

Then again, I’d faced off against a Puppetmaster in his Citadel. 

“I think of power a little differently,” I said. “There are five ways in which a human being can gain power over others. Through coercion, or the power to punish. Through rewards, or the power to grant them. Through legitimacy - we follow some people merely because of the titles they hold, whether those be ‘king’ or ‘prime minister’. Through expertise. And through references.”

Dandadev paused. “I don’t understand.”

“The five forms of power, Dandadev. Coercion tends to breed resentment; you can only use it effectively for a limited time. Rewards are expensive and add up. Legitimacy, well, it’s complicated. Expertise, however?” I waved my hands. “You’re not here today because I threatened you. You’re here because I have defeated aliens in battle, many times, and you want to know how. Because that knowledge, that insight, could help you survive your next battle.” 

With that, I stared Dandadev in the eye. “You didn’t come here to punish me, because you have no reason to. You came here to learn something that might keep you alive. So, what have you learnt?”

“About fighting the aliens?” Dandadev snapped. “Nothing, except vague assertions.”

“Assertions backed, I dare say, with experience. Would you agree?”

Dandadev cocked his head. “There is that. You have an impressive track record.”

“Thank you. Now I understand not all of my assertions will seem convincing at first, so let me come up with an example. You might have seen videos of the Greyhound Armour?”

“The metal robot you operated at London?” Dandadev’s nod was a bit more respectful. “Yes, I believe most people have seen that.”

“The Greyhound, for me, was a major step up from the Boar Armour, which I used at Liverpool,” I explained. “It was my first suit which was significantly larger than human size. Moving and fighting in the Boar is almost like an extension of unarmed combat - the Greyhound, on the other hand, handles differently. Balance, footwork, firing positions, how to handle recoil - all of it is very different.”

“You seemed to handle it just fine.”

“At London, yes. Because I trained. For several weeks, I virtually lived in the suit. Practiced every type of maneuver possible.”

I could hear a sharp intake of breath. Dandadev focused a steely-eyed gaze on me. “You were preparing for London - before the attack happened?”

“We had warning. Precognitive predictions of an upcoming attack, though not specifics. That gave us time to prepare.”

“The British have a precog who can predict alien attacks?” someone asked from the crowd.

“Not quite. This particular form of precognition is extremely unreliable - in a sense, we got lucky it worked as well as it did.”

“Then why didn’t they predict Lonavala?” asked Dandadev.

“I did mention that the precog is unreliable, Dandadev.” I stared back at the ultra. “And you’ll forgive me for not going into the specifics of another ultra’s powers.”

That drew the man up short. “You are protecting this ultra.”

“From assassination by Gellatoids. I’d think we all agree that’s a worthy cause?”

“I agree with Belessar,” chimed in Porcupine. “God knows, I wouldn’t want to be hunted for my power.”

“Or hunted for being a precog,” another ultra added. “Even unreliable, that person saved a lot of lives.”

“And could potentially save more,” acknowledged Dandadev. “Very well, I will accept your statement about the restrictions of this precog’s powers. You will, I hope, inform us if they detect anything relevant to us?”

I smiled internally - Dandadev was trying to take control of the conversation, demand concessions by simple virtue of stating the obvious. A clever tactic, and one which explained why this Master was so feared. 

I hate smart enemies; I like smart allies, and potential allies.

“That would depend on the precog in question, I’m afraid,” I replied seriously. “You understand that while I know of their existence? They have a right to their privacy, safety, and the pursuit of their own goals.”

“You are being deceptive,” growled Dandadev.

“You are being intentionally obtuse, Dandadev. Tell me, did I say this ultra works for me? Or is beholden to me in any way?”

“... you did not.”

“So why would you think that I have any control over what they do?”

A murmur from the crowd, a sense of agreement. Even Dandadev seemed to sense he’d lost ground. “If you come to know of anything that affects one of us personally….”

“Then I will treat that information responsibly. I am not here to interfere in any conflicts between you and other ultras in Mumbai - that is, quite frankly, not my fight. I am here because this is Agni’s city, and Indradhanush’s home. I am here because as they were my colleagues, friends, and fellow warriors, I believe others may be, too. Does that answer your question?”

“He’s got a point, Dandadev,” Rubaru chimed in. “No sense trying to make him your unwitting informant.”

“But he is still being deceptive,” Dandadev said. “My power confirms it.”

“Of course I’m being deceptive. You’re fishing for the precog’s identity, or at least codename, when they don’t want to give it. I’m protecting that information, as is my duty. Anyone who has a truth-telling power will clearly identify that as evasive or deceptive behaviour.”

Nyaybandhu laughed. “The man has a point, Dandadev. You can’t very well blame him for hiding another’s secrets from you.”

“Indeed,” another ultra chorused, this one a tall man in a feathered suit. “Leave it be, Dandadev.”

“I’m happy to finish answering your original question,” I added in a conciliatory tone. “The one you asked before we got sidetracked.”

Dandadev nodded. “You mean the one about why we should work with normals.”

“As I mentioned, my time preparing for the Battle of London involved a lot of practice with the Greyhound. Developing new fighting and maneuvering techniques, improving my footwork, and considering how I would react to a whole lot of different scenarios. Many of these scenarios were identified for me by a team of Army officers.”

Dandadev scoffed. “A team of normals taught you how to use your suit? The suit you invented?”

“In part. I told them exactly what the suit was capable of, and they came up with the best ideas they had to use it to inflict maximum damage on the enemy. Or to cripple it.”

“... You helped a bunch of strangers figure out how to defeat your suit?” The villain sounded incredulous.

“They figured out every technique they could, yes. Then they developed counters for most of the techniques. The rest, I figured out on my own. Hardening the suit against EM or sonic attacks, a rapid dodging technique, a variant of fire-and-maneuver designed for a single battlesuit… essentially, they created a customized handbook of tactics that I could use. I called these the Armour Katas, because they can be applied to most armoured suits - and I’ve kept working to refine and improve them. As you can see, it’s been quite effective.”

A hush fell upon the crowd, broken by Nyaybandhu. “So you used the normals as … a whetstone, to make you more effective.”

“Like rivals in chess,” added the feathered ultra. “An opposing force to test you.”

“In chess, you get better by playing stronger players,” Dandadev said. “Not weaker.”

“Unless you play with a handicap, or there are a great many other players,” commented Porcupine. “I always played my brother with one less bishop and rook.”

“As advisors, trainers, and testers,” I clarified. “Over time, I have learnt far more from them than they have from me. Not from any single one - but as someone pointed out, for every ultra, there are ten thousand people who lack a power but are no less motivated to fight the Hierarchy.”

“They aren’t the ones risking their lives,” Dandadev said, “except for the soldiers. Which is why you listen to them, I suppose?”

“Precisely. Most of the soldiers I have taken advice from have survived being shot at by Hierarchy forces, without powers to protect them.”

“I concede your point,” Dandadev acknowledged. “You made an objective argument, and there is no disputing your effectiveness. Perhaps it is worth learning something from the normals.”

“That’s what he meant by the power of expertise,” Rubaru muttered suddenly. 

“Excuse me?” Dandadev asked. 

“You listened to him,” Rubaru replied. “Belessar has the wisdom of having survived battles. You want to know what he knows, because that makes you stronger.”

“Knowledge is power,” conceded Dandadev. “That’s what you mean by expertise, is it? That by possessing knowledge, you gain power. But then, why hand it out so freely?”

“Because there is a fifth type of power,” I replied. “Reference power, or the power of relationships.”

“You mean love, affection, and the power of friendship?” 

“No, I mean that when I share my knowledge with another, they feel an obligation to reciprocate. Or, at least, to support me, because in the future I may share more knowledge with them - and enhance their power further. In return, they may offer me something - usually their power, whether it be knowledge, legitimacy, rewards, or coercion.”

“You trade power in the present,” Dandadev said slowly, “for the potential of power in the future. But … it’s an even trade, then. You give knowledge, reducing your power, and the other party gives you an equal favour?”

“No, they give me something of less worth to them than I have traded. It has to be a profit in their eyes.”

Dandadev’s tone was puzzled. “They give you less in return than what you give them? How do you benefit, then?”

“Because what they value their power at, is worth less than what I can make of it.”

“That makes no sense.”

“Fair enough. Let’s consider that from this conversation, you learnt something useful. I’m now going to ask you for something in return. If you think it’s worth less than what you’ve gained, then you give me that.”

“... Very well, ask.”

“I want your phone number, and the right to contact you at any time.”

Dandadev seemed stunned for a second. “Belessar… I appreciate the interest, but I don’t swing that way.”

I chuckled. “Apologies, that’s not what I meant. Amending my original ask, I have no romantic interest in you, and just want to be able to call you up and ask for your advice on how to deal with specific situations.”

“... That’s all?”

“You are furthermore under no obligation to offer a solution, I just want the right to contact you.”

“At any time, you said?” Dandadev seemed to think it over. “What the hell. You have it, although I may refuse to pick up if I’m in the bath. Or with someone.”

“Then I expect you to call back as soon as you’re available. Is that a fair deal?”

“... Sure, why not. Now, how do you intend to benefit from this exchange?”

“Would you agree that for you, it’s a profitable exchange?”

“Yes, and so?”

I grinned. “Then, whenever I have a situation where a Xeranai shipmaster or Archon Fragment needs to have their mind broken, I’ll call you up and ask you if you can come and help. Full Frontliner rates, with one of my armoured suits to protect you, my personal guarantee of safety, and if you succeed in defeating them, you get to keep the suit afterwards.”

Dandadev laughed. 

It started out as a soft laugh, barely more than a chuckle. In seconds, it had grown to a full belly laugh, the type you would expect from a storefront Santa Claus, and then morphed into the reaction of a standup audience when the comic finally lands the punchline. 

It didn’t stop there, the villain kept laughing for a full thirty seconds before the wheezing started. 

Finally, he coughed to a stop. “... Belessar. You are … insane.”

“I’ve been called worse.”

“You traded valuable information for … the right to advertise. You are either truly mad or truly gifted.”

“Does that mean we have a deal?”

“Oh yes,” the man wheezed. “If your offer was serious, you have a deal. I’ll listen to your propositions, and if there’s a chance I can break the enemy’s mind… I may even show up.” 

“That’s all I ask.”

The crowd parted as the still-chuckling villain turned and walked away.

“Well,” the voice of Kalachakra broke the silence. “That’s one volunteer I never thought to see.”

I shrugged. “He seemed sensible.”

“Sensible. The man has a string of deaths attributed to him and terrifies half the Mumbai police.”

“Really? I suppose I’ve become jaded, after dealing with Puppetmasters and Gellatoids.”

“Is it true you fought off an alien mind-controller?” the feather-suited man asked.

“I’m sorry, we haven’t been introduced?”

“Baaz. It means ‘falcon’.”

BAAZ

LEVEL 32

CLASS: SHAPESHIFTER

CAN ASSUME THE FORM OF A GIANT FALCON. IN THIS FORM, HAS THE STRENGTH OF AN ELEPHANT AND THE SPEED OF A PEREGRINE FALCON, REACHING UP TO 300 KPH.

“Glad to meet you, Baaz. We could always use more flyers. And yes, I did have to fight off a Puppetmaster - they’re the alien mind-controllers, and a lot stronger than our average Master.”

“How did you do it?”

I shrugged. “Powers. Unfortunately, not something I can teach.”

“How do you recommend we fight a Puppetmaster, then?”

I shrugged. “Kill the Master. It’s a fairly well-known strategy, after all.”

Baaz’s face contorted, his mask twisting the lines of his face into something barely recognizable as a grin. “Straightforward as always. I’d be happy to join the next battle, although we need to do something about transportation. I can only fly so fast, after all.”

“The government is looking into it,” Kalachakra explained. “We will do our best to ensure that the, er, delays were not impacted. Meanwhile, I believe that there are several inventors who would like to meet Belessar?”