52 - Tele-Portal

I felt like I was flying.

The monorail from TU to Mid-Town snaked between, around, and even throughbuildings packed in so tightly they made the canyon-like streets Mom had driven the station wagon through seem open and airy. The train cars seemed to ride on air; I’d hardly felt them accelerate, and buildings flashed by with barely a bump.

<Hey, Understudy. Idea. - Fursona 9:15>

<We’ve been trying to win Episodes. We should focus on our style more - Fursona 9:15>

<That’s a change from ‘win at all costs’ Fursona - Understudy - 9:16>

<Yeah, well, long-term it’s more wins, and bigger ones - Fursona 9:16>

The train started braking. I could barely feel it, but everyone rocked slightly as it began to pull into the station near the Baliman and Croft Financial Building. A few people looked at me funny—I was in full Costume, after all—but most shrugged and ignored the superhero in their midst. They had more important things to do, and as long as I wasn’t panicking or running, no one here cared.

<Uh huh. That’s what I was saying in class - Understudy 9:18>

<So what do you think? - Understudy 9:19>

<We throw a fight and just use styles close to leveling up - Fursona 9:20>

<Oh, and see if the growth outweighs the victory bonus? - Understudy 9:20>

The train stopped, and I joined the crowd exiting. I followed a swarm of men in black suits down a flight of stairs and across the street to the Baliman Building. Tele-Portal hadn’t mentioned whether or not she’d be inside, but she wasn’t waiting by the glass revolving doors, so I pushed my way through them and found an armchair to sit in.

<Could work. At B and C. Waiting for Tele to show. TTYL - Understudy 9:24>

I’d barely tucked my phone away when Tele-Portal pushed through the door, giant portal cannon slung over her shoulder and stilts strapped to her back. She yawned and waved. “Glad you’re here, Understudy. The D-wolvers won’t leave the wall alone, and I’ve been pretty busy, but we’ll do a quick patrol and show you the ropes. Any experience with public relations beyond the normal cheesy lines in Episodes?”

“Yeah.” I told her about speeches with Mayor Albright, especially the most recent one, just before I left.

“So, we’re doing a little of that, a little autograph-signing, and a little schmoozing with the Extras. We’ll head over to Broadway Mall. That’s still in Mid-Town, but it’s more casual, so the Extras will be more interested in chatting.”

“Are we going to portal over?” I asked. If not, I hadn’t equipped any good movement powers. It’d be a long walk.

“Nope.” I tried not to look crestfallen as she continued. “Part of patrolling is being visible, and using a power to skip the sidewalks wouldn’t fit with that.”

"Right. And visibility reassures the public that we’re here.”

“More than that, having heroes walking the street makes the villains second-guess the nastier Episodes.” We pushed through the revolving doors and stepped out onto the busy sidewalk. People in business suits bustled every way, while the more casually dressed seemed to flow mostly in one direction. “If The Equalizer knows I’m around, he’s less likely to start a bank heist Episode. I hard-counter him, and I know today’s his day off Man vs. Nature and that he wanted to hit First Launch Bank, so being nearby helps mitigate that.”

That made sense. Peter…Professor Panic…never started things near me unless his goal was a fight. In our final Episode, he hadn’t even made an appearance at either of the first two battlefields.

Tele-Portal waved to the crowds and said corny lines the whole way to Broadway Mall—“Don’t worry, I’m just a portal away!” and “I love you too, kiddo!” and “My sidekick Understudy and I are here. Everything’s totally safe.” She seemed way more at ease than I did. She’d practiced this for a long time, while I’d mainly tried to stay out of the public eye except for Episodes and speeches. Everyone knew each other in small towns.

We made it to Broadway Mall. It was a wide, sprawling glass and stucco building taking up most of the space between the skyscrapers in front of us. I’d wanted to come here since Mom and Dad dropped me off at Walnut Tower, but it hadn’t worked out. And now, here I was, but I couldn’t really shop.

I couldn’t shop at all. The kids swarmed me as soon as we walked into the food court. Their noisy shouts and the smell of cinnamon buns, pizza, and grease were almost overwhelming.

“Hey, you’re Understudy, right?”

“I saw your season finale against Professor Pancreas!”

“Are you going to fight him again?”

I looked toward Tele-Portal, who grinned at me. “My grandpa taught me to swim by throwing me in Bear Creek Lake until I figured it out. Go swim, Understudy.”

Alright, some teacher she was. I took a deep breath. “Yep, I’m Magical Girl Understudy, here to make sure no villains are messing with you. I’m…not sure I’ll ever fight Professor Panic again.” I didn’t use one of the stupid nicknames I had for Peter; it didn’t seem right anymore. I swallowed.

“I’m here in Tokyexico City, and he’s in a small town still. Neither of us can get to the other, so he’s going to have to get used to fighting Collidus instead.”

“Aww, man. Collidus isn’t as fun as you. All he does is run into stuff and win.”

The girl looked disappointed, and I knelt and put my hand on her shoulder. “I’m still fighting crime, kiddo. I’m just not fighting Professor Panic right now. I haven’t given up on you, and I’m still out there, so don’t give up on me, okay?”

“Okay.” The kid-swarm chatted with me for a while about their favorite Episodes. I had to cringe every time one of them said ‘Panic Prof and the Beastly Boys.’ Why did kids like ‘90s hip-hop so much anyway? And I ended up signing two books—neither about me, superheroes, or anything relevant—and a shirt-sleeve.

When I’d finished, and the kids had left, Tele-Portal raised an eyebrow at me. “How do you think you did?”

“Alright. They all seemed happy at the end.”

“Uh-huh. And did you notice McHammer?”

“Wait, what?” I whipped my head around.

“He went toward Rick’s Sporting Goods just after you signed the T-shirt sleeve. You should probably tail him, huh?” Tele-Portal asked, winking.

“Ye—“ Wait. She wasn’t serious. I pondered for a moment. “Nope. He saw us, right?”

“Right. So he knows we’re here. He parted the crowd like a hot knife through butter, but he wouldn’t start anything right now if he was after something serious. Not when I can bring the whole Triad into an Episode in five seconds. The only way he’d start anything is if he were working for someone else, and McHammer only works for himself—and occasionally, for Lord Destructo, but they split the payoffs 50/50.”

“Alright. So he’s not a threat?”

“We’ll check back at the food court later,” Tele-Portal said. We patrolled past one of the big department stores. I made a mental note to come back to it later; the signs outside screamed about a sale.

A man’s voice interrupted my gaze, and Teleportal and I turned to look at an angry man with an early-teenage son behind him. The kid wouldn’t stop looking at his phone. “Hey, ‘heroes!’ When’s Bridgefield Middle opening? You Triad types leveled it two months ago, and Andrew’s driving me crazy.”

“I’ve got this one,” Tele-Portal whispered, then turned to the man. “Hi, sir. ‘Haze-Matt’s Escape from Almhurst!’ wasn’t the Triad’s fault. We got lucky to herd him into the school building before classes started, but his chemical attack made the building a total loss.”

“Well, when’s it getting finished?”

“Let me check,” Tele-Portal sighed and pulled out a phone. I watched as she typed ‘When is Bridgefield Middle School in Tokyexico construction supposed to be finished?’ into the search bar. Then she sighed again. “Sir, it’s on schedule to re-open for next semester. Rogers Construction pulled out all the stops to get it leveled and rebuilt as quickly as it has, but it needs a couple more months.”

“This is bullshit,” he grumbled. The kid rolled his eyes at me as his dad went off. I rolled mine back at him. Mom got like this sometimes, so I knew how it was.

Tele-Portal let the dad’s tirade roll off her, then smiled. “I know the Triad paid for alternative school arrangements for every kid at Bridgefield Middle and equipment for remote learning as needed. If your current arrangments aren’t working out, TCSD said they accepted transfers in the cases of Episode damage, Man vs. Nature issues, and Power War refugee status. This certainly counts as Episode damage.”

The man tried to argue for a while, but eventually, I spotted McHammer stomping back from the sporting goods store with his giant hammer in one hand and a bag of golf clubs in the other. “Uh, Tele-Portal, should we…”

“Yes. Sorry, sir, but I’ve done all I can for you. We’ve got important superhero work to get back to.” Tele-Portal started walking away, and I followed, leaving the dad sputtering and the teenage phone-starer rolling his eyes again.

We followed McHammer back to the food court, where he got in line at a burger joint. He turned, glared briefly at Tele-Portal and me, then nodded slowly. Tele-Portal nodded back. “He didn’t have to route past us. He could have left us with that angry Extra,” she said.

“Why didn’t he?”

“Professional courtesy. We defended the same stretch of the wall last week, and he’s probably as tired as I am.” She yawned again. “I’d bail him out if he were in the same boat. But he wouldn’t be. Not many Extras approach villains unless they’re looking for henching work.”

My phone buzzed in my pocket, but I ignored it. “Why do you call them Extras? We’re not in an Episode right now.”

“Bad habit. I’ve been doing this for a while, Understudy. After eight or nine years, you realize an Episode could start anytime, so it’s easier to think like one’s always happening.”

“Ah. That doesn’t seem healthy.” My phone buzzed again. A text? An email wouldn’t be this persistent.

“No, probably not. Especially because Extras only get System protection during Episodes. Some heroes forget they’re pretty fragile most of the time. The Triad tries not to, but it’s easy to slip up.” Tele-Portal looked embarrassed. When my phone buzzed for a third time, she cleared her throat. “Why don’t you check up on that?”

<Understudy, TUSSA’s putting out a call to arms against the SSS - Fursona 11:05>

<All hands on deck, set for 1:00 - Fursona 11:07>

<You there? Ikenga said everyone in the email - Fursona 11:08>

“One second,” She nodded and sat at an empty table near the end of the food court. I sat next to her, phone on the table. The email came first, then a response to Fursona.

Subject: Response to the SSS

Attention, TUSSA Members,

Monologue and the SSS have proven their untrustworthiness after their duplicitous actions at the Job Fair. Unfortunately, their ‘antics’ are not over.

Sara-N-Dipity and the UFC Brothers have discovered that Iron Fist and Tearjerker are planning something. They’ve been secretive enough that Sara and her team haven’t been able to find out more.

I am declaring an [Investigative Casting Call] at 1:00 PM at the TUSSA-Cave. All Tokyexico University Student Superhero Association members not currently involved in Man vs. Nature VII should attend for the good of the association.

Ikenga

PrescientPresident, TUSSA

“Looks pretty serious. Do you need to get going?” Tele-Portal asked from next to me. I nodded, but before I could say anything, my phone buzzed again.

<You there? Ikenga said everyone in the email - Fursona 11:08>

<Yeah, one sec. Meet me at 1301 in 45? - Understudy - 11:08>

I shut the screen down and stood up. “Sorry, Tele-Portal. It’s a—“

“College club drama. I get it. I’m exhausted anyways, so I’m going to say hi to McHammer and make sure nothing’s going down today, then I’m going home.”

I nodded. “Email me the next time you’re doing a patrol. We’ll find that Episode and see how we fight together.

She nodded, stood up with a groan, and walked over to McHammer. I didn’t stick around for the conversation; I was already sprinting for the train station back to Tokyexico University. My phone buzzed again on the way.

<Yeah. Noon. Your place. What’s an [Investigative Casting Call]? - Fursona 11:15>

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