All posts by Jim Zoetewey

Arc 5.0: A Kind of Small Crow

A Kind of Small Crow: Part 2

25 Comments

I wasn’t worried about the communicators’ encryption. I’d only put them together last spring. It wasn’t as if they were old League technology that everyone had analyzed thirty years ago.

Maybe I should have been worried more. The communicators were based on the roachbots, and Grandpa had designed the first versions of the roachbots in the 1950’s as mobile bugging devices.

I’d updated them substantially over the past year though. Grandpa’s design survived only in the most general terms.

All the details of the current systems were mine.

Of course, the communicators still connected to the League’s old alert system. That might be a vulnerability.

Continue reading A Kind of Small Crow: Part 2 →

Arc 5.0: A Kind of Small Crow

A Kind of Small Crow: Part 1

17 Comments

As always, Jefferson Street was a zoo. It probably had the most fast food restaurants and chain stores of any street in the city. At ten or eleven at night, the traffic became bearable—it wasn’t bumper to bumper anymore.

I brought the van to a stop on the other side of the road from the one with Lakeside Lounge–four lanes worth of cars and semi-trucks away.

We were next to a Subway, a shoe store, and Grand Lake Marina Supplies. That last store took up most of the space. Even though the store had closed, the lights were still on, and I could look in at speed boats, engines, water-skis and other gear.

Continue reading A Kind of Small Crow: Part 1 →

Arc 4.9: What She Asked For

What She Asked For: Part 6

20 Comments

“Huh,” I struggled to come up with some way to deny it. What exactly had we said? Haley had mentioned Storm King. That linked us directly to the Heroes League without question. Plus everyone knew Travis was Haley’s older brother, and she had to have heard him if she heard Haley.

Crap.

Well, maybe I’d gotten lucky and she’d missed that part?

“You’re with the Heroes League?” She said slowly. She stopped walking, and so did I.

I checked around us—again, seeing only the porch lights of the houses around us, the streetlights, and campus directly ahead. If someone were around, I couldn’t see them.

Given the powers of people I knew, that meant nothing. Continue reading What She Asked For: Part 6 →

Arc 4.9: What She Asked For

What She Asked For: Part 5

24 Comments

I answered. “Hey, how’s it going?”

Haley’s voice came over the phone. “He’s moving. He left the house just after you did, but not before we sent in the roachbots.”

The sound of a car’s engine roared in the background, and Haley talked over the noise—but not to me.

“He turned left! Don’t let him go!”

Travis, her older brother said, “I know! Let me drive, dammit.” Continue reading What She Asked For: Part 5 →

Arc 4.9: What She Asked For

What She Asked For: Part 4

13 Comments

Despite my anxiety, I understood how the Nine had failed to find her. The girl in the picture resembled Cassie the way a picture might if, hypothetically speaking, they didn’t have any idea what Cassie looked like, and instead had to resort to gender-flipping an exact clone of her father in Photoshop.

Cassie could thank Dr. Mind, and splices of DNA from unknown (possibly alien) donors for not having a cleft chin, for lighter blond hair than her dad, and other small details that made her not quite the same.

Of course, we were all still wondering what else he’d hidden inside her.

Continue reading What She Asked For: Part 4 →

Arc 4.9: What She Asked For

What She Asked For: Part 3

21 Comments

On Thursday night, Courtney and I walked up to a house near campus. A brown two-story, it had to be around a century old.

The lawn hadn’t been mowed in the last few weeks. The bushes in front of the houses hadn’t been clipped either, and had grown high enough that they partially blocked the windows.

Courtney knocked on the front door, and a college-aged guy opened it. Square jawed with obvious muscles showing through his t-shirt, he fit every stereotype I had about football players.

Of course, I had no reason to believe he actually was a football player, so every part of the stereotype but that.

Courtney smiled uncertainly, and said, “I’m looking for Davis?” Continue reading What She Asked For: Part 3 →

Arc 4.9: What She Asked For

What She Asked For: Part 2

23 Comments

“Really? How?” And also, I should have said, “What? What did you figure out?”

“I don’t think I should talk about it on the phone.” She sounded a little nervous.

“OK,” I said. That seemed a little paranoid, but honestly, given that Isaac said we were all being watched, it wouldn’t surprise me if the FBI were bugging our phones.

Not that she would know that, right?

“Can we meet now?” Continue reading What She Asked For: Part 2 →

Arc 4.9: What She Asked For

What She Asked For: Part 1

20 Comments

There were other people to ask, or so I learned on Sunday night. Haley wasn’t mad exactly, but she wasn’t happy either.

“There’s me, and Marcus, and Kayla too. She’s staff, but she’s still part of the team.”

We were in League HQ, but not the main room. After getting back around seven, I’d gone to the lab to recheck the modifications I’d made to the main Rocket suit over the summer, and then start looking over our power impregnator.

Someday soon, I’d have to modify the spare suits, but not tonight.

Continue reading What She Asked For: Part 1 →

Arc 4.8: Being Watched

Being Watched: Part 6

20 Comments

After we finished talking, Lee said, “The advanced class is coming in soon. I’d have you stay except you’re already going to stick out.”

“I am?”

“You’ve been training with me for years. You’ll stick out. Oh… And by the way, bring the full suit next time. You’ll need the protection.”

“Yeah?”

“Count on it.”

Not long after that, I walked out of the door, finding a group of ten people waiting outside. Continue reading Being Watched: Part 6 →

Arc 4.8: Being Watched

Being Watched: Part 5

18 Comments

He’d never told anyone exactly what he was, but when Lee took a form, it became near impossible to think of him by any name but the one he’d chosen.

Gunther smiled at us, a wide grin full of white teeth.

Picking up a long spear from the pile of weapons in front of him, he said, “Today we’re going to talk about the Greek phalanx—not because I expect you to fight with spears, but because of what it represents.

“The Greeks, and most armies that were any good, fought as a group, not as a bunch of heroes who happened to be on the same side. They had shields that covered themselves and the man next to them.

“Sometimes you’ll be in that situation. Sometimes you’ll be fighting enemies alone. What I intend to teach you is when to fight in formation, when not to, and when to avoid fighting at all. I’m told that other people will talk about loyalty, duty, courage and other values you’ll need to live up to, but let’s be honest, that’s not my field.” Continue reading Being Watched: Part 5 →