AnotherArchetype
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138. Moussaka
🕑 Added 2025-04-10 22:02:55 +0000 UTCI was examining the burn mark on my wrist where Azad had gripped me during our ‘training session’.
I then willed the sinew-suit to heal the burn there, and after a moment the darker hue faded back to the same pink which covered the rest of the suit.
A plate filled with cooked vegetables was slid into my field of view. It looked like the vegetables had been taken out of the rubbish bin and put directly onto the plate.
“Here,” said Azad, proudly.
He sat on a stool one over from mine at the kitchen counter, and started eating his plate of vegetables with a fork.
“What is this again?” I said.
“Moussaka,” said Azad, “Baba makes it all the time.”
Azad set his attention on his food. It must’ve tasted great because he devoured every bite.
I took the fork Azad had put on my plate and stabbed a chunk of zucchini. I had removed the sinew-mask from the lower-half of my face so I could eat, but otherwise I was still fully wearing the sinew-suit, skull-cowl and all.
After examining the zucchini chunk again I put it into my mouth.
What appetite I had worked up from the training session vanished.
Azad, still chewing a big cheekful of moussaka, looked at me as if expecting me to share his enthusiasm.
I forced a smile and gave Azad a thumbs up, and just about managed to swallow the mouthful.
Maybe the vegetables were rotten, I thought, but really they had seemed okay-enough to eat before Azad had started cooking.
To get through the rest of the meal without insulting Azad’s kind gesture, I used the medical knowledge node to turn off my taste buds instead. This, really, made the food lack all taste and most of its texture, and still somehow the bad taste seeped through a little.
Maybe I could use the power to make it taste better, I thought, but decided not tasting it was victory enough.
“There’s some more if you want it,” said Azad, who had already cleared his plate.
“Oh no,” I said, after swallowing yet another mouthful, “This is plenty for me. It’s all yours.”
Azad finished his second helping before I finished my first.
“Ah,” he said, sitting back a little and patting his abs.
“Hit the spot?” I said.
“Nah,” said Azad, “Still hungry. We’ve not got much food left.”
“Xandra’ll be back soon,” I said.
“Yeah,” said Azad, “Maybe she’ll bring Big Burger back again.”
“One can only dream,” I said, wistfully.
I noticed the wound I had dealt to Azad’s right temple had completely healed. For a moment I just looked at Azad, framed by the midday glow coming in from the musty kitchen window, and tried to see the old Azad somewhere in the new one.
Azad set his plate down and fixed his attention on me.
“What?” he said.
After a moment’s hesitation, I said, “So...you’re going to stay like this moving forward?”
“Yeah,” said Azad, without missing a beat, “Why would I want to go back?”
“What about when you see your family again?” I said, “You won’t look the same.”
Azad put a hand to his knee and grinned tiredly.
“I won’t be the same when I see them again,” he said, “They already know what I am, when they see what I’ve become, they’re gonna have to get used to it.”
Azad then sat upright and folded his heavy arms, new confidence reaching his handsome face.
“One day they’ll know I’ve become a great hero – the world’s greatest – so they’ll understand.”
That word, Hero, sparked up the same emotional reaction in me it had done before back when I was in the construction site tunnel with Azad and Xandra. I clenched my fists to relieve some of the inner tension I felt.
“About that,” I said, “Last night I did a lot of thinking about the future. I don’t want to get into all of it right now, because there’s so much to go over and I want to wait until Xandra’s here too to run through it all with you both. But, I just want to ask if you’ve considered how important its going to be to have a secret identity?”
Azad cocked his head to the side, studying me just as much as I tried to gauge his reaction.
“I won’t need one,” he said, “Because I’ve got nothing to hide.”
“But you do,” I said, scooting a little off my stool from the intensity with which I spoke, “Your family don’t have super powers. You might be able to protect yourself, but you can’t protect them all of the time. Not from the Peepers and, later down the line, from anyone powered or not, who holds a grudge against you.”
What was left of Azad’s easy-going mood was replaced with a stern look of concentration bordering on hostile. His eyes searched the dirty kitchen floor as he considered what I said.
“Heroes have enemies,” he said, “And enemies always go after the hero’s loved ones.”
“Exactly,” I said, “And trust me, man, the Peepers aren’t above using our loved ones as blackmail. They basically said that was what they’re going to do to anyone that joined up with the PUNCH program. Sure, they tried to make it sound positive, but really anyone who signed up to be a part of that program is always going to be under the Peeper’s control.”
“And,” I said, “That’s just Robert Hoffman, Chellam, and the Pied Piper’s altogether as one dangerous entity to worry about.”
Azad put a hand to his chin and considered everything I said. He then stood up suddenly, and turned his back to me, standing at the kitchen sink with his head lowered. He then turned the tap, which surprisingly released water into the sink, and he took big handfuls of the water and lathered it over his face and hair. Finished, he turned the tap off again.
With the exception of the many drips of water falling off Azad, as well as his numerous huffs and sighs, silence filled the huge kitchen space.
I remained quiet, giving Azad the room he needed to think things through.
He turned enough to fix an eye on me.
“Then we could just become stronger,” he said, “So strong nobody would ever dare mess with us.”
“One day we might be,” I said, “But when I was at the facility the Peepers showed us that us teenagers are growing in power at an equal level. Sure, we might be using the power differently, but the core potential of what we can do with the power is the same. Look, man, there’s thousands, maybe tens of thousands of teenagers with powers all over the world. Even if the Peepers weren’t a threat, or the police, military, or just paranoid people who are going to hold a grudge against mice, there’s still going to be other powered people to worry about. You know first-hand that there’s teenagers like the Sub-Divisioners out in the world. What happens when we come across some of them? If some psycho with powers decides he wants to fight us, and he can’t beat us, then maybe he’ll go after our families next. I don’t know about you but I’m not willing to take that risk.”
“So what?” said Azad, “Is that why you’re still in your slip-suit?”
As Azad said this I made the sinew-mask return over the lower half of my face.
“Yes,” I said, “My sinew-suit, which is what I call it, though ‘slip-suit’ does sound pretty cool too, is going to be one of the ways I’m going to protect my true identity.”
Azad stifled a mirthless laugh.
“So you’re just gonna stay in your sinew-suit all the time?” he said.
“Pretty much,” I said, “Unless I’m alone and I know nobody is around.”
“That’s crazy,” said Azad.
I started to understand how Xandra had felt when I had used that word – crazy – when talking with her.
I stood up from my stool, finding it easier to do at my taller stature.
“No,” I said, “It’s necessary. I don’t want to have to hide my identity, I don’t want to have to deal with any of this crap. But the Peepers aren’t going to stop coming for me, so I’ve got to find some compromise to use the power but not put my family in harms way more than I already have.”
“There has to be another way,” said Azad.
“There is no other way,” I said, sternly, “We have to get smart.”
We held each other’s gaze for a moment before Azad looked away, as if conceding defeat that I was right and he was wrong.
I sighed.
“Look,” I said, “What is this hero-thing about for you anyway? Why’d you want it so bad?”
Azad had his eyes closed. He rose his head slowly, more water droplets falling away from him; more midday glow framing his head.
“I can’t explain it,” he said, “It’s just something deep inside of me that knows that’s what my destiny is. I am going to be the world’s greatest hero. I want to inspire people, to show them a better world is possible. I want to be the best version of myself, and that best version of me is a hero.”
I listened to every word Azad said and tried to soak it all in, to understand what it was to him that made the idea of becoming a powered hero so enticing.
“And you?” he said, looking at me with a hint of hostility.
It was an overwhelming question. I felt so many things, and had so many conflicting thoughts I hardly knew where to begin answering it. It seemed I was going to be at a loss for words.
“It’s going to be the only way forward,” I said, “Before I knew I had this power I didn’t believe I was anyone special. And the way things have gone since the day I was evacuated from my home has shown me I’m more of a danger to people than some hero that’s going to make the world a better place. There’s going to be other people, better people, with the power, that are going to make a real difference in the world. My goal is just to keep up, to stay true to myself. In short, I’ll need to become a hero to survive.”
“Just survive?” said Azad, as if mildly confused or disgusted by the idea.
“It’s all I’ve been able to do until now,” I said, “I’m no hero. I’m just a survivor. Little better than a powered cockroach, basically.”
Azad shook his head, flinging more droplets everywhere. He put a hand to my shoulder.
“Nah,” he said, “You’re more than a cockroach. You can be a hero, Burgess. I can see you have the potential to be one of the greatest.”
Tears stung my eyes. Before I could make a snide remark or try to belittle what Azad said in some way out of the discomfort I felt at the sentiment he was getting across to me, he gripped my shoulder even harder and shook me a little.
“You’re right, Slip,” he said, “We need to protect our identities. It’s a great idea. I’ll do it too moving forward. I’ll figure out a mask or something. You’re right. But if I’m going to have a secret identity, then you need to do something too.”
“What?” I said.
“Believe in what you believe with everything you’ve got,” said Azad, “Or you’ll fail before you’ve even started.”
I gave a small nod.
“Okay,” I said.
“Okay? Just okay?” said Azad, shaking me by the shoulder some more to the point I couldn’t help but laugh.
“We gonna be heroes or not, Slip?” said Azad, “I wanna hear it.”
“We’re gonna be heroes,” I said.
“Louder,” he said.
“WE’RE GONNA BE HEROES,” I yelled.
“Yeah, we are!” said Azad, “The best! And don’t you forget it.”
He took his hand away and offered it like he had done back in the swimming pool area.
CLANG!
The sound of our bros-handshake filled the kitchen.
Comments
Draeysine
Slip and Clang. I can't wait for Xandra to come back and see the boys broing out
حسين عباس عبد المهدي
Thanks for the chapter
