Nine months later…
“Help us! Please!” cried the little boy.
“Save us!” said the little girl.
It was hard to hear their small voices over the earthquake. Their tiny frames could barely be seen through the billowing clouds of dust. They were huddled in the corner of the office building, surrounded by piles of rubble. At this rate, the structure wouldn’t stand for long. Nearby windows were breaking from the quake, showering the children in a flurry of sharp shards. They didn’t have much time left. At their distance, I would only have a matter of seconds to come up with a plan of action.
It was clear. My only option was to run…now! After scanning my surroundings I launched forward. My muscles were shredded as I pushed myself as hard as I could. The ground beneath me seemed to sway back and forth, knocking me off balance. None of this could affect me. The children were dead ahead, waiting for me at the end of the massive room.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw some debris plummet to my left. It scraped me as I threw myself away from it. Then, some more debris came crashing down right in front of me. Without stopping, I ducked and slid under the twisted metal beams. My legs were nearly skinned down to the bone, but I pressed on; urged forward by the pitiful cries of the children begging to be rescued.
There was one final obstacle between me and the children. A pit had opened up in the floor, trapping the boy and girl into a corner. If I could make it over this last hurdle, then their rescue would be assured. To do that, I would have to succeed. All of my thoughts were focused on my goal: save the children. My skin was vibrating at the thought of them meeting some terrible fate. The blood in my veins ran cold at the mere idea of failure. I could not fail…I would not fail!
A tingling sensation came over me. This was it. My ultrapowers were manifesting. Ergokinesis; that’s what they called my powers - the ability to manipulate all forms of energy. With enough concentration, I could convert one form of energy into another: thermal into electrical, kinetic into chemical, or solar into radiant. That was how I was able to overcome the Imps nearly nine months ago, and it was how I was going to complete this rescue.
Energy was siphoned into my cells from the environment. My aching muscles were rejuvenated and my speed increased as I approached the chasm. With a loud groan, I swung my arms forward and propelled myself into the air. It was the highest that I had ever jumped. There was an eerie sensation of weightlessness as I soared over the bottomless pit. My head barely brushed the steel beams above.
As I landed on the other side, I fell to one knee, still quivering with energy. The boy and girl were elated to see me. For a moment, terror left their plump little faces and I could see beaming smiles beneath their tears. I couldn’t help but smile too. But, my smile was short-lived. I saw them begin to sink out of view. The floor beneath them was crumbling. It happened so fast that I couldn’t reach them in time. Before they realized what was happening, they were embraced by a black abyss.
A deafening cry of despair left my throat as I dove after them. My chest landed at the lip of the opening, my arm stretched out to grab them. But, it was all in vain. They were gone. My fingers clenched around nothing but wisps of smoke. I was too late. I had failed.
“Not bad,” said a familiar voice, “You almost got ‘em that time.”
I scowled and turned my head. Standing behind me was Johnny Fox, better known as “Minute-Man” one of the three - one of the two - American Allegiant, and my instructor in rescue operations. He stood erect with his arms folded across his chest, completely unfazed by the mayhem all around him. Even though he had a cocky smile on his face, he could see that I was not in the mood for his usual positive attitude.
“Alright,” he said, planting his fists against his hips, “Let’s wrap up the simulation and call it a day.” He clapped his hands and everything froze in an instant. Falling rubble was suspended in the air. Then, everything went black and silent. A dull ambient light turned on, illuminating the now-empty chamber.
We were standing in the Arena, a training facility at Allegiant Headquarters. It was larger than a football field with a towering domed roof. How it worked was a mystery to me, but I reckoned it used holographic projectors and alternating panels to create environments, situations, and obstacles. Whenever I trained in the Arena, it was as if I were in some foreign locale, encountering some harrowing ordeal. Everything about it - how it sounded, how it felt, and how it smelled - seemed real. All of this was meant to harden me into the hero that I was promised to be.
When I agreed to become an Allegiant and relocate to Washington, D.C., I was enrolled in a rigorous nine-month training program. This program would teach me the essential skills needed to be an Allegiant: how to refine my ultrapowers, how to rescue civilians, and how to defend myself in combat situations, among other things. All of this would make me ready for my national debut as the next American Allegiant to follow in the wake of Commander’s untimely death. Of course, that all depended on if I could pass the training program. So far, it wasn’t looking promising.
“What am I doing wrong?” I said through gritted teeth. The image of those poor children falling to their deaths wouldn’t leave my mind. It was burned into my vision every time I closed my eyes. It was frustrating. Truth be told, that wasn’t my first time failing to rescue the civilians…nor the second…nor the third. I had tried dozens of times to pass this test. Each time I would get a bit closer, but always come up short. Fox turned and faced me.
“Well, let’s focus on what you’re doing right,” he said, “You’ve increased your agility, reflexes, stamina, and jumping distance. You’re making great progress! I think that was your highest jump yet!”
“But, it’s not enough,” I said, “I thought I’d get in the zone that time. I could feel it working…at least at first.” As Mr. Fox taught me, some Ultras can control their powers by getting in “the zone”, as he called it; a mental state triggered by specific emotions, memories, or attitudes. The current emotion we were experimenting with was desperation.
“So did I,” said Fox, “But we’ve only just started working with this new emotion. Give it time.”
“I appreciate that, sir,” I began, “But, we don’t have much time left. And I don’t think…I don’t think that-” I stopped myself.
“You don’t think, what?” asked Fox.
“I don’t think I’ll be ready by next week,” I said bowing my head in shame. Fox smiled and patted me on the shoulder.
“Listen, no one is expecting you to perform miracles by next week,” he said “Your debut isn’t about that. It’s about convincing the world that you could perform miracles. That’s all that’s needed right now. Once we show you off at the Ultradome, the renegades will know we mean business, they’ll back down, and all of these riots will stop. As I’ve said, fifty percent of being an Allegiant is…” he paused to let me finish his quote.
“Looking like an Allegiant.”
“Exactly!” he said, “You’d be surprised just how many problems are avoided just by how we look. Speaking of which, your ultra-hero landing back there…A+! Falling to one knee always looks good on TV.”
“But, I am expected to fight the renegades, aren’t I?” I asked.
“Eventually. Yes.” said Fox, “But we’ll get you there. In the meantime, let us veterans handle the bad guys. As long as the public sees you rescuing a few civilians in peril, then that’ll do just fine. You do that and Allegiant TV will handle the rest. Believe me, editing can go a long way.”
His words of encouragement were not helping. I studied the floor, mulling over his words. Fox began to walk away but turned and saw that I was still planted in place.
“Were you wanting to give the simulation another go?” I glanced up and nodded.
“You sure? You don’t need a break?”
“No sir! I’m ready!” I said. One of the first things I mastered after arriving at Allegiant HQ was how to energize myself. By absorbing ambient energy like thermal or electrical I could sustain myself for hours on end without rest or even food. This allowed me to devote most of my time to training. It also explained all of those pesky electrical outages at my family’s bakery.
“Very well then!” said Johnny, flashing a smile. He then disappeared in a burst of gold and blue light. “We’ll start over in just a moment,” said Fox. His voice boomed over me from the observation deck at the apex of the Arena dome. The first time Fox used his time alteration abilities, it startled me. But after nine months, I grew accustomed to him disappearing in the blink of an eye and reappearing somewhere else. “Simulation begins in five…four…three…two…one!”
I clenched my eyes shut and when I opened them, I was surrounded by crumbling walls once more. Faint voices could be heard behind me.
“Help us! Please!” cried the little boy.
“Save us!” said the little girl.
Here we go again.
My next five attempts were just as fruitful as the others. With each run the obstacles were different, forcing me to think on the fly and adapt to new situations. On one attempt, I had to swing across a hole in the floor using a steel I-beam. But as soon as I landed on the other side, the floor caved in beneath me and I fell fifty feet. On another attempt, I had to break through a wall using nothing but my fists. Despite being a simulation, the bricks felt very real when they collided with my knuckles. The children were long dead before I blasted my way through the barrier.
“Again,” said Minute-Man, watching me from on high. The simulation would be reset. Same result. “Again,” he said, his voice sounding more exasperated. “Again. Again. Again.” Each time he said “Again” my heart grew heavier in my chest. It was no use. I would never pass this test!
Suddenly, the simulation ended. The usual ambient light of the Arena became red. A voice could be heard over the intercom system.
“All emergency personnel report to hangar B. Allegiant 2 is approaching. ETA, one minute.”
“Lonestar,” I said aloud. Immediately I picked myself up and dashed to the door, exiting the Arena. As I rounded the corner, Johnny Fox was already there.
“You seem worried,” he said casually. I continued to rush down the hallway, leaving Fox behind. However, he always appeared ahead of me no matter how fast I ran.
“Lieutenant Lonestar is late today,” I said breathlessly, “It’s becoming a pattern. Each mission is taking longer to complete. It must be getting bad out there.”
“You still don’t seem to understand Will at all,” said Fox, “He’s always on duty. He’s been like that ever since I started. It doesn’t necessarily mean things are getting worse.”
“Still, I’d like to make sure he’s okay,” I said.
We entered the hangar bay just as the ironclad doors slid apart. There was a blinding burst of light followed by the silhouette of Allegiant 2, one of the three small aircraft that transports Allegiant to their assignments. It glided onto the landing pad and was met by a swarm of EMTs and mechanics. Minute-Man and I stood back to make room for them. We could see the outer hull of Allegiant 2 battered and burned. It must’ve been under attack. I gave Johnny a worrisome look. He pretended not to be bothered.
The backdoor of the aircraft lowered into a ramp. The caped figure of Will Washington, a.k.a “Lieutenant Lonestar”, emerged from the exit. His usual heroic posture was gone. Instead, he was limping, his uniform was splattered with mud, his cape was torn in several places, and he was clasping a fresh wound on his right flank. The medical personnel quickly saw to his needs. Will tried to wave them off, but they wouldn’t have it.
“It’s nothing,” he said, “I’m alright.” Fox and I maneuvered through the crowd to speak with Washington.
“What happened out there?” said Fox.
“The renegades,” began Will as a few EMTs bandaged him up, “They’re more trained, more organized…and a lot more dangerous.” He winced as a medic tended to his wound.
“Trained?” asked Fox.
“Their techniques reminded me of Soviet Spetsnaz or PLA special forces,” said Will, “They’re not the thugs we’re used to fighting anymore,” Johnny rolled his eyes.
“ You still thinking the renegades are getting outside help?” said Fox.
“I know they are,” said Will.
“Not everyone shares your confidence,” said Fox as Will dismissed the EMTs.
“Who do you think is helping them?” I asked, “The Russians? The Chinese?”
“Not sure yet,” said Will, “Although, one of the renegades did reference something…someone.”
“And what was that?” asked Johnny.
“Just a single word…’X’,” Will seemed to shudder at the utterance of this word. Fox was less than impressed. There was a moment of silence and then Lieutenant Lonestar turned and faced me. “My apologies for returning late. We should begin your combat training immediately.”
“Now?” said Fox, “You need to take it easy for a while. That wound looks pretty nasty.”
“It’s fine,” said Washington without looking at Fox, “What’s more important is getting her prepared by next week. Are you ready to begin, Ms. Cruz?” I was a bit taken aback. My thoughts were preoccupied with the meaning of “X”.
“Yes sir!”
“Good,” said Will, “Then what are we waiting for?”
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WHAM! I was thrown to the floor. The wind was knocked out of my chest and I was gasping for air. Lieutenant Lonestar marched up to me as I knelt on the ground, trying to recollect myself. With one hand extended, I tried to motion to him to pause so I could catch my breath. He didn’t listen.
“There are no timeouts in this session,” he said before lifting me up with his gravity-manipulation powers. I was held in place by an invisible force and tossed backwards like a ragdoll. “You think the renegades are going to give you a timeout? Now fight back!”
It was hard to concentrate with all the noise around us. The Arena simulation was of a city in chaos. Buildings were set ablaze, shattered glass littered the ground, and helicopters circled overhead, creating whirlwinds with their churning blades. Barricades trapped me and Lonestar in an intersection that acted as our battleground.
Still struggling to take a breath, I lunged at him with all my might. He easily evaded my attack and struck me across the back. I screamed out in pain and then countered by trying to land a kick across his face. Once again, he dodged it and pushed himself back. He stood still, waiting to see what my next move would be. By this point, I was on the verge of fainting. It took all of my strength just to remain standing.
“What have I told you?!” said Lonestar, “Don’t freeze! You’re an easy target. Keep moving!” He fired concentrated bursts of negative gravity at me. The first slammed into my chest. It felt like a punch, and no matter how many times I received such a blow I never got used to it. The next three bursts were avoided as I forced myself to sprint away. Unfortunately, the fourth made impact and sent me flying through the air and careening against a burned out car.
“Your movements are predictable. You need to change things up!”
“I’m trying!” I said with a raspy voice, “I just need a second to re-energize!”
“When your powers are exhausted the only thing that’ll keep you alive is your physical strength,” said Will pulling me towards him from afar, “And your opponent will push you to your limits,” He threw a punch at me, which I was able to block and counter. He and I exchanged blows as he continued his lecture. “And they will be ruthless, which means you will also have to be ruthless if you want to save yourself and others. You will also have to be quick-witted.”
He snapped his fingers and the simulation changed abruptly. Now, we were standing in the middle of a farm torn apart by a raging storm. A tornado was shredding a barn to splinters a hundred yards away. I was nearly blown off my feet by the ferocity of it all. Flashes of lightning briefly illuminated the dark surroundings. I looked for Lieutenant Lonestar, but he disappeared.
No matter where I turned, I couldn’t find him. This moment of reprieve was enough for me to concentrate and attempt to get in the zone. All of my thoughts were focused on desperation. I must complete this task or else all would be lost, I told myself. A tingling sensation could be felt across my skin. I repeated this mental exercise over and over until my body began to glow. Its light was pale in comparison to the blackened storm swirling around me, but it was enough for me to look for my instructor.
My eyes caught a glimpse of something large flying towards me. I ducked. It was a tractor that had been carried through the air by the intense winds. Or was it the winds? A metal trough soared at my head. I rolled out of the way. Then a truck tumbled towards me. I hopped over it. These were no freak accidents. It was Lonestar alright. He had perched himself in a nearby tree. From his station he was able to hurl objects at me from a distance.
“Found you!” I yelled, ready to land a punch on his jaw. I rocketed myself at him, but my punch collided against nothing but air. I landed hard on the ground. But the ground was no longer mats of sod, but wet concrete. The simulation had changed once again. This time, I was in an abandoned warehouse. It was spacious and deathly quiet. My aura was starting to fade, and I was becoming tired.
“You may be quick-witted,” said Lonestar, descending from the ceiling and alighting on the ground, “But are you ruthless?” He stepped aside. Appearing behind him was an old woman tied to a wooden chair. She seemed so frail and helpless. Her eyes were pleading for me to rescue her. “To save her, you will have to go through me. To do that, you will need to fight to kill.”
“Kill?” I said.
“Don’t worry,” he said, “You won’t be able to, not at your current condition. But in order to save lives, you must be able to take lives.” The very thought sickened me.
“I don’t know if-”
“You are an Allegiant,” began Will, “You are an instrument of the U.S. government. Not only are you given the authority to take life, but you are expected to if the situation calls for it. Now, do everything in your power to drive me back and save the civilian.” He then readied himself for the duel. I tried to muster as much energy as I could, but it wasn’t nearly enough. This fight would be a losing battle. I could already feel it.
With clenched fists and teeth I charged at my opponent. He stood like a stone wall, even as I attacked him with a flurry of punches and kicks. Lonestar’s training had paid off. It was hard to believe that in such a short amount of time that I had become a hardened fighter. However, I was far from Washington’s equal. He countered my every move, all the while chastising me.
“What are you waiting for?” he said, “Use your powers. Drive me back!” By this point, my limbs were like lead. Each punch was weaker than the one before. My concentration was gone and my powers were exhausted. Lonestar could see that I was faltering, but he did not stop. “Don’t give up on me!” he snarled, “Don’t you dare give up yet! Keep going!”
“I - I can’t!” I gasped. My lungs were on fire and it hurt to even breathe. Tears were running down my face. I was sobbing aloud and didn’t even realize it. My mind was melting with a thousand thoughts all at once. “Why can’t I use my powers? Why can’t I get in the zone? What’s wrong with me? I’ll never be ready by next week! What am I doing here?! What am I doing here?! WHAT AM I DOING HERE?!”
Suddenly I fell. Surprisingly, Will did not continue his onslaught of strikes. Instead, he simply stood over me and watched silently as I gulped for air. The simulation ended and the Arena returned to its neutral colorless state. Everything was still for a moment. Then Will spoke to me in a calmer tone of voice. Yet, these words cut deeper than any he had said before.
“The American people are in jeopardy, Ms. Cruz. Renegades are ending innocent lives everyday. It may not be easy, but it may be necessary to kill in order to save them. If you are not able to execute the office of an Allegiant, then why are you here?”
With that, he turned and marched out of the Arena.
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The clock face read 2:30 am, yet I was wide awake and sitting on the edge of my bed. My personal quarters at Allegiant HQ were modest, yet sufficient. However, much like the rest of Allegiant HQ, my room was sterile and cold. Surrounding me on the bed were several books with unusual titles. “A History of Ultrapowers Volume 1”, “Boy Scout: A Biography of America’s First Allegiant”, “Daring Deeds: A Guide On Using Ultrapowers for Good” and many others. On most nights I would read through an entire book before the sun came up, but on this night I ignored them and simply stared ahead.
Lieutenant Lonestar’s words haunted me. “Why are you here?” It echoed over and over in my mind. The more I thought about it, the more the answer to this question eluded me. Why was I here? What madness overtook me to agree to giving up my life for this? Why did I abandon my family and our home? My parents…my siblings…I was beginning to forget what their voices sounded like. It had been so long since I last spoke to them over video chat. Communication with them was limited for national security purposes.
In my hand was a wrinkled photograph. It was a picture of me, my parents, and my sisters. It was taken on the Fourth of July from the year prior. We all had a sparkler in our hands and were cramming together as much as possible to fit in the frame. Caroline and Catherine were not even looking at the camera, and my mother’s eyes were nearly shut. It was a funny photograph that always made me smile. But this time, it filled me with sadness. A tear suddenly fell upon the picture. My eyes were stinging with a sharp pain. I clenched them shut and tried to hide myself in a distant memory. Then, I heard something.
“Honey? Can I come in?” My dad’s voice was soft as he slowly crept into the room. I was back in my bedroom in Miami, nearly nine months ago. I was seated on the bed in the middle of the night, surrounded by my college textbooks: “Introduction to Macroeconomics”, “Business for Beginners”, and “A History of American Entrepreneurs”. For the last hour or so, I was staring at them, realizing that very soon I could be giving them up forever. The mere sight of them seemed as fragile as porcelain.
In my left hand was a packet of medical forms. Agent Farmer had taken me to a secured military facility at Miami Airport to be tested. The documents they gave me afterwards featured several confusing graphs and charts. However, Agent Farmer and the government’s suspicions were accurate. The diagnosis at the end of each form read: “Ultra Positive - Class A”.
In my right hand was the photograph of me and my family on the Fourth of July. Much like with the textbooks, the sight of the picture was as delicate as glass. If I merely looked away, all memory of this picture would shatter forever. My father must’ve realized that I had turned my bedroom into a wake; mourning the death of my old familiar life and the death of my future plans.
He stood quietly in the corner for some time, not saying a word out of respect. He knew that his fatherly advice would not be enough for a situation like this. I would have to decide on my own what to do. After a good amount of time, he paced over to the bookshelf and plucked a framed picture off the highest shelf. It was a faded map of Florida, the Keys, and Cuba to the south.
“You know, my grandfather was a baker too,” said my dad, “It wasn’t always easy running a business like that in Cuba. There was constant government corruption and rebellions and civil unrest. Yet, your great grandfather’s business continued on. No matter what was happening in his home country, he could still provide for his family and neighbors and bring them some semblance of comfort…even if it was simple, like baking guava pastries. That was something he knew how to do.”
My father paused for a moment as he placed the picture back on the shelf.
“That is, until Castro took over. At first, our family wanted to wait and see how his new government would manage things. But, once it became clear that Castro’s loyalties lay with the Soviets, my grandfather knew that his bakery would be in the service of a communist regime. He then had to make the hardest decision of his life. He would abandon his home and escape with his family to America.”
“Why?” I asked, “Why leave his home? Why leave it all behind?”
“Communism wants to reshape the world in ways that can’t be done,” my father said, “It wants to tear down the old ways of doing things - old customs, old traditions, old beliefs - in order to create a utopia on earth. The problem is, in the eyes of a communist, there isn’t a price too high to pay in order to reach that utopia. My grandfather understood this and knew what was coming next.” My father smirked. “I suppose all villains view themselves as heroes, fighting for some greater good.”
“Old beliefs?” I said quietly to myself.
“Yes,” said my father, “If our family had not left Cuba when we did, it would’ve been much harder to practice our religion in peace. That’s why we came to the United States, where the right to worship God is protected.”
After brushing aside some of my textbooks my dad sat down next to me on the bed.
“America, despite its flaws, is still the land of opportunity. This country’s been good to us. It accepted us when we were in need, it allowed my grandfather to start this bakery, to rebuild our lives, and it’s been our home for the last few generations.” I interjected.
“I’m sorry dad, but…why are you telling me all of this?”
“Because, I want you to understand that you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to be an Allegiant. You have a choice, a choice that many in Cuba couldn’t and can’t make.” My father picked up one of my textbooks and handed it to me. “You can still choose to be a baker…if that’s what you want,” Tears were beginning to well up in his eyes and his voice was shaking as he held back his sorrow. I placed my hand upon his and leaned against his shoulder. It took all of my strength to not cry as well. My dad pulled me into his embrace and cradled me as if I were a little girl again.
As my dad held me, I looked around my room. Adorning the walls were several posters of Allegiant: Minute-Man, Lieutenant Lonestar, Commander, Estrela of Brazil, Cherry Blossom of Japan, and many others. The poster of Commander caught my eye. Above his head was a text that read, “Answer the Call!”. The words of Clint Armstrong could be heard in my head, “Will you step up to the plate? Will you be the next Commander? Will you be a hero?”
“Dad,” I said softly, pulling myself away and cupping my father’s hand between mine, “Listen, I…I think…I think I’ll do it.” His eyes widened as I said this, “I’ll be an Allegiant.” He became flustered and fumbled his words.
“But, you…I thought that-” he stopped and held up my textbook, trying to figure out what to say. I pushed the book away gracefully.
“It’s not that I don’t want that, dad,” I said, trying not to cry, “Because I do, more than anything. But, like you said, this country has been good to us. This is our home, and…it’s in a lot of trouble right now. If there’s anything that I can do to help then I-” I stopped for a moment to recollect myself, “Perhaps it’s time for the Cruz family to give back to this country.”
There was no response from my father. He sat in silence, staring at me with tearful eyes. He wiped his nose and chuckled to himself sarcastically as he turned his head away. He had given up trying to argue. Now, he was trying to process and accept this new reality.
“I’m sorry dad,” I said, reaching out to him, “Are you disappointed?”
“Disappointed?” he said, turning around to face me again. His eyes were still watery. “Why would I be disappointed? My daughter is going to be an Allegiant!” He and I laughed and cried at the same time. He held out his arms and we hugged once more. “I’m really proud of you, sweetie,” he said, squeezing me tighter, “Just…try not to get hurt, okay? Your mother would kill me if you did!”
“Okay, dad!” I said, my voice muffled against his flannel shirt, “I’ll try not to!”
The photograph was still in my hand. I had stopped staring at the blank wall of my quarters and looked down at the picture. The teardrop was resting atop my parents’ faces. I brushed it away and it was as good as new. Now I remembered. This is why I chose to become an Allegiant. It had almost slipped my memory. The last nine months had been a whirlwind of training and studying unlike any in my entire life. But, it was good to pause and remind myself why I endured it all.
I set the picture on my bedside table and smiled. My next rescue training session would begin in five hours. Until then, I had some studying to do. I cracked open my copy of “Daring Deeds” and turned to page one. Surely I could get to page three hundred and fifty before my alarm rang. As for my grand debut at the Ultradome, that worry was a thousand miles away…at least for that brief moment.
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