Uncertainty
I come home to an empty house. Good. What I'm about to do will work best when I'm alone. I want to keep my costume a surprise. First I shower and change into my pajamas. Then I locate thread and scissors. My old dress is still lying on my bed. I sit on the floor and begin cutting away at the black fabric. I cut out a belly shirt, shorts, and elbow-length gloves. I had to cut the shirt short; I've hit a couple major growth spurts since then. Picking up a spool of blue thread, I sew a design on the shirt while thinking, I never thought I'd ever appreciate those sewing units in Home Ec. Several moments later I twirl in front of a mirror. You did good, Nikki. Wait. It needs something. Duh! Shoes! I search my closet, finding a suitable pair of black ankle boots. Alright, now I'm done. I peel off my creation, pull back on my, hide the sewing materials, and go to sleep.
The next morning those cursed birds wake me up. I do my morning routine and disappear into the bathroom. Dad must be downstairs, waiting for me to drag myself out of the shower. He knows I hate this sort of thing. I'd much rather be in church or something. It takes a lot of convincing, but I manage to get myself out and dressed. Downstairs I twirl for Dad.
"I like it," he complements, leaving to give me time for a quick breakfast.
I prepare a bowl of cereal and flip on the television. Done with the cereal, I take care of the bowl. Yawn! I hate mornings. I switch to the news and pick up the phone to call Miguel. He answers in two rings.
"Hey, what's shakin'? Thought you'd collect that phone call?"
"You know me, Miguel. Honest as Dad. But this has to be fast. We're going to the service in Stamford." We chat about everything, lingering on Stamford. Everything now leads back to the destroyed town. All the while I flip through channels so fast you would need a super-memory to process the programs. Which I have. My eyes glow blue. Suddenly I hear something that makes me pause. I drop off in the middle of a sentence.
"Nikki, what's up? Did you hang up on me?"
"Put on channel 89. There's something you should see."
In the background I hear the remote. I focus on the voiceover. "-strange occurrence in front of the New York City Police Headquarters. The super-villain known as Bullseye demanded the release of several members of the assassins group known as the Hand. He held several officers at gunpoint. It seemed like a lost cause when this came to help." The video fast forwards to a glowing blue figure. It takes out the bad guys one by one. "All officers were saved. They generously shared with us insider's statements and a preliminary draft." A sketch comes on. They must have imagined what she looked like without the glow. She has black hair, ample curves, slender legs, and is wearing some green bodysuit of sorts. "Captain Henderson would like to thank their mysterious savior. 'Whoever you are, wherever you came from, thank you. We owe you one. Police Captain Bob Henderson, at your service!' We all appreciate your actions, mystery woman. With NYN, this is Maria Mermaidico."
I actually made the news! But wait. Dad is going to be so ticked. He's always so protective. There's no way he'll let me be a superhero by myself. No way. My point is proven when Dad and I stand together in the back yard. I create a bubble and float us to Connecticut.
"Where were you last night after the dance?" he demands sternly when we pass the New York border.
"Stuck in traffic," I answer hesitantly. Yep. I was right.
"Why were you in front of the police station?"
He got me. "Taking out the bad guys."
"You know I told you not to do that."
"Come on, Dad! You train me, you give me morals, and you expect me not to follow in your footsteps?"
"Eventually, yes. I would love that. But you're not ready. Not without me there. You know what happened after that triathlon!"
"That was a triathlon, Dad! Not day-to-day life."
"I don't care. This isn't something you can quit whenever you want. If you're in it, you're in it for life."
"My point exactly. Why won't you let me do it, Dad? Why?"
"Because…because…because I'm scared you're going to get hurt."
"I can take care of myself! I'm not a baby! I can help you! This Registration act can't be good!"
"How'd you find out about that?"
"I'm not dumb! You're gonna have to register; everybody will! If not, you'll get arrested!"
"You're still not doing this, Nikki."
"What would Mom say?"
I hit a nerve. He mumbles something unintelligible as he turns his head.
I give him some time to simmer down. I almost never bring up Mom anymore. "Dad?" I ask a few minutes later.
"Yes," he whispers so softly I can barely hear it.
He looks at me with a faraway expression. He must be thinking about his friends that died in the line of fire. "Look," I begin, "I'm truly sorry about that…disagreement earlier. But I'm not talking about Bullseye."
Noticing my awkwardness, Dad motions for me to hug him. "Oh, Nikki," he sighs once my arm is around him. "You're as honest as the day is long. But I'm not without blame. It's my fault I am so overprotective over you. I want you to grow, but I don't let you be who you want to be. What kind of father am I? Being a hero is dangerous, but if you think you're ready, you are. Without me present to protect you."
"I am, Dad. I can help you with this registration thing. I heard you're gathering a resistance. Any job that needs to be done, I can do it."
"It's just you're the only family I have left. All my friends from the war are dead, Bucky is an assassin, and your Aunt Sharon is always on classified missions. After you mother died, I realized I can't let you go. If you were to get hurt or… I don't know what I'd do.
"If you really want to help, there is something you can do. Since you're new to this, and therefore unrecognized, you can act as a spy. Join Uncle Tony, register, but all the while reporting back to me. Do not give any indication that you're not really on their side. Act like you're one of them. Pretend that despite you're the only child of Captain America, you couldn't stand my beliefs. That will keep you safe. You with me?"
"Yep." In a whisper, I add, "You're the best father anybody could ask for." He grins. For the rest of the trip, we stay in each other's arms. When we reach the church, I bring us to the ground in the middle of a group of Avengers. Uncle Tony resists pushing these people to register for the time being. We go in and sit in a front pew, in a space held by Falcon. The sermon is beautiful. The minister carries on without pause for the better part of an hour. I glance around to notice Dad glaring at somebody. His gaze is riveted at Uncle Tony. Though there are only a few people here in costume, Dad and I included, I recognize a bunch in their civvies. I wonder why that is.
Outside the church after the sermon we linger. I stand and talk with Peter Parker, but Uncle Tony pulls him aside. He squints a bit at the glow. Dad decided to have me produce a faint glow around my body, not enough to blind you, but enough to hide my features. Before I head to Falcon (very odd to see him without wings) I spot Dad comforting some firemen. This must be really upsetting. I answer some questions. He's been over enough to realize this whole thing makes me want to cry. I hold myself together, though, and last until Dad says it's okay to leave. I drop him off at the Helicarrier before making my way to the Baxter Building. Under the pretense of babysitting Franklin and Valeria, I'm supposed to spy on a meeting held there. I enter to let Mrs. Richards know I'm there. She leaves; I let the kids know we're playing hide-and-seek. I hide in an air vent above the meeting room and listen in.
A discussion starts. They go back and forth, debating the morality of the Registration Act. I hear Franklin complain about my hiding spot, so I exit the duct. Mrs. Richards comes back from the hospital, I leave.
o8o
After dinner Dad stays to watch the evening news, which focuses on the Registration Act, then leaves. "This is the last time I can go outside in costume without getting arrested. At midnight they'll send in enforcements. They can't find me here," he explains. "I'll come back to make sure you're set."
It makes sense. If worse comes to worse, the Resistance will need a safe house. Though this place won't be much good for the big names, since Uncle Tony had it built and knows pretty much everything about it. He might even know everything about us. I really hope Dad didn't tell him what I think he told him. That would not be good. I end up writing in my journal with nothing better to do. Hi again. Wow. Almost every day this week I've talked to you. Double wow: I'm officially fighting in a war. As an actual spy. As in, joining Uncle Tony and reporting his Intel. I'm actually kind of excited. Any who, soon the Act will kick in. I have a feeling it will split the superhero community right down the middle. People like Dad fighting for freedom, people like Uncle Tony fighting for control. I wonder who agrees with this. Anybody who resists has a leader, at least, which is a good thing. Now I'm a spy in some dispute affecting all our lives. The thing is, if anybody finds out I'm a double agent, I'm dead. Any respect for my last name will be thrown out the window. They don't care. Even more importantly, they'll get to Dad. Even worse. This lie has to hold so Dad is protected. Doesn't matter if I make it out unscathed, I'm a nobody in this fight. Dad's the leader in a freaking rebellion. That is way more important than anything I'll ever do.
Freedom Fighter keeps haunting me. Every night is a different day of her life. Mainly military training and education. I learned some new tactics from her. For an eight-year-old she fights well. Too well. She saw more violence in a year than most people do in a lifetime. You know, Uncle Hank told me to write down all my disturbing dreams. Now my life is the disturbing dream, and my dreams are my normal life. Like everything is backwards. Inception. This must be how the big-time heroes feel. Those who fought for years protecting America now have to work for the government just to do what they do best. Enticed with promises of health care benefits and a steady paycheck. Doesn't make sense when so many Americans are out of work. Yes, precious few politicians like Senator Lieber are against it. The majority are with it. If we fail, we're screwed. We get locked up in the Negative Zone until we…
"Rise and shine, trooper!" Dad shouts, waking me from a deep slumber.
What the… I lift my head from the leather bound journal. Why is Dad talking to me like this? I stumble out of bed to do the warm ups. Half-way through the pull-ups using a glittering blue bar, it clicks. This is my last normal morning and Dad wants to keep it that way. Still putting me before anything else. The truth is there, the elephant in my fairly large bedroom. We both know one of us isn't going to make it out alive. And that someone will probably be me. Considering all the heavy hitters are choosing sides. Even if Thor is dead.
Breakfast is simple. Then I change into my costume and stare at a picture of Dad and I fishing. It was taken about a month after my powers came. I was as happy as can be. Shaking myself, I run downstairs to say goodbye to Dad. This is the last time I'll see him in person in who knows how long. He gives me an old scrambler for secret communication. Then I jog to Avengers Tower, struggling to hold back tears. I'm terrified. There are no protesters out front, and a quick scan reveals no one but Jarvis and some maids are inside. Huh. Maybe the Helicarrier… I climb the nearest high rise searching for the massive hunk of metal. Way off in the distance, near the coast. They never make it easy, do they? I leap to a landing pad. Definitely not deserted. Why not show off? It might help. I back up to make it look like I just landed, flipping and cartwheeling through the air. Sure feels impressive. As a grand finale I jump through an automatic window, taking a pane of glass with me. Peeking up from my knee, I spot Maria Hill glaring at me. "Agent Hill," I say. I give a salute.
Still glaring, she demands, "What do you think you're doing? You could have entered through one of Stark's drop-offs without the flare. And who's going to pay for that window?"
"Yes ma'am." I back up a step. "I've come to register, Ms. Hill. A little entertainment doesn't hurt anybody."
"Glad to see you. Right this way." She leads me into a waiting room and hands me a stack of paperwork. "Oh, and FYI, stunts like that are not acceptable. You hear me?"
"Loud and clear." The first page or so of the paperwork is easy.
Name: Nikki Alison Janice Rodgers.
Alias: Rebel
D.O.B.: April 16, 1997
Superhuman Relatives: Captain America, Dazzler.
Powers: Enhanced strength, speed, reflexes, agility, endurance, senses, memory; atom channeling.
Non-Superhuman Abilities: N/A.
Occupation: Ninth grade student.
Place of Residence: Suburbs of New York City.
Affiliations: N/A.
Level of Experience: Seven years of intense training, four months of officially fighting crime with Captain America.
After that, they get harder, like, Why are you a protector/enemy of justice? What describes you? Jeez, these would make the Riddler proud. Once all the questions are answered, Agent Hill comes to collect me.
"So, Miss…" She glances at a paper. "Rodgers. Nice to see another person coming to their senses." Maria leads me to a personal transport pre-programed for Stark Tower. All the while she mutters things about "Daughter of America" and "Betraying Our One True Soldier."
Already inside, I can barely hear her. It flies me to the Tower; I hesitantly make my way inside. Pro-Reg posters hang everywhere. Heroes and, surprisingly, villains, buzz around. The main Intel center isn't hard to find. Inside, there are so many people I admire I begin to hyperventilate. Sentry actually looked at me! So much so Uncle Tony has to yell my name four times until I respond.
"REBEL!"
"Yeah?" I say, blinking a few times. Still not used to being called by a codename. My whole life it's been "Nikki" or if I got in trouble at school its "Rodgers!" Never Rebel. Though me and Dad decided it would be best. It fits. Ms. Hill thinks I'm just a rebellious person, but it has deeper meanings. Plus it sounds cool.
"Welcome to Stark Tower. Normally I would give you the tour, but we're busy at the moment. You are now, too. I need you to gather some info from Songbird."
"Right away, Un- Iron Man." I almost called him Uncle Tony! Bad Nikki. It's fine if a few people realize my name is Nikki Rodgers, but if it becomes public knowledge, there goes secrecy. Even most of the Resistance does not know.
Songbird is on the 37 floor. I tap my new high-tech wristwatch and pull up her stats. This watch is pretty cool. I should check it out later. "Uh, Songbird? Ms. Gold? Iron Man needs info about the news?"
Melissa looks me over. "You're the new kid. Huh. I thought you would be younger. Here you go." Handing me a flash drive, she turns back to the computer.
I reenter the elevator. I tap the watch and type in my codename. Being a direct hit, my file is the first on the list. I click it. Coupled with my smiling face is my info in 30 seconds or less format.
Subject: Nikki Rodgers
Aliases: Rebel
Group Affiliation: none
Powers: atom manipulation, heightened senses, faint healing factor, photo-capture memory, boosted strength, speed, reflexes, agility
Power Type: inborn
Current Location: New York, NY
All day its simple tasks like fetching stuff, helping Heather Hawk, the X-Man Energy Drainer, go through medical files. The most exciting thing was going to Iron Man's lab. That was pretty interesting. Taught how Tony Stark becomes Iron Man and some of his inner secrets can only help Dad. When we leave I hook the scrambler to the communicator and tap it. "Hello?"
"Nikki, it hasn't even been a day. What's up?"
"Just took a tour of the famed Stark Lab. He updated his suits, go for the helmet."
"Great. One second-not there, Speed! I'll be there in a minute-I can't talk much longer. What are you doing?"
"Sifting through all the medical files of the people who registered for Miss Hawk."
"Which one?"
"The energy one."
"Oh, good Lord…"
"I know that's a bad thing, one less person for you, but why?"
"Her powers are something we don't want used against us. With one hand she grants energy, with the other, she takes it away. Just imagine how that could turn the tides on a battlefield."
"I get it."
"Keep me posted. I love you."
"Love you to." With that I tap the earpiece and go back to the files.
o8o
Finally on the sixth day I'm allowed to do field work. At first I give some newbies a tour, including some big names like Black Widow, Electro, Permafrost, and Mamba. Their names pop up when I need them: Natasha Romanoff, Max Dillon, Yseult Addie, and Eric Castro. Permafrost seems to like me. Then we watch Spider-Man reveal he's Peter Parker on TV. During the afternoon there's a prisoner transport. Mr. Richards explains the Negative Zone to us just so we know before we leave.
"To put it simply, Project 42 is a containment system based in the Negative Zone designed to hold people who have yet to realize they're on the wrong side. Iron Man, Yellowjacket, and I designed it. Don't worry; this is not meant to be inhumane. Every cell is created for a specific inmate. Each will be released when they agree to register. But some will be locked up for a very long time."
That's all I can understand. Technical jargon isn't my strong suit. From the sound of it, this place does seem rather inhumane. Contradicting everything Mr. Fantastic said. Maybe it's my inexperience talking. The looks on some of the other's faces suggest they don't like it either. Weird. Contemplating about Project 42, I hitch a ride on a police car for the prisoner transport. Sirens blare. Lights flash. Citizens, some booing, some cheering, crowd the streets. People in the upper floors of apartment buildings throw random objects at us. A shield of my doing blocks most of them.
"Rebel!" Uncle Tony calls from the air. "Take the truck! We need more muscle there!"
I obey his command and jump onto the truck. This is Spider-Man's old position, I remember. Everything goes according to plan until Baton pauses. The trucks do too. She yells that she can sense vibrations beneath the pavement. No sooner that she gets that out does Cloak teleport several heroes right in front of the convoy. Dad is among them. The trucks swerve to avoid them. Most topple over. I jump off and do my best to keep the prisoners in. Better keep up appearances. We're still on week one, no sense in blowing our cover.
Penny, the Pink Rose, swoops down and tries to blast her way through my energy reinforcements. "Thy traitor! Do not defend the unjust!"
Though I want so badly to shout "I'm really on your side! This is just an act!" I instead yell, "You're the one who's wrong, disobeying the government and refusing registration!" That sounds good. This is gonna be so hard. Man, this bites. I'm facing off against the Pink Rose, for crying out loud. She can fly, and make energy blasts, and even mess with freaking molecules. Molecules! She tries that, I'm screwed. Being dropped from hundreds of feet in the air? Yeah, I can handle that. Energy blasts to various body parts? I can deal with that too. But screwing with my body? No way. No frickin' way.
"Thy eyes," she comments as she pulls me up into the air, "suggest reluctance. Is thee fighting unwillingly?"
Should I give it away or not? Risk blowing my cover, revealing I'm a spy, or let every rebel know I'm not in it for the money? "Let's just leave it at this. This is going to hurt me a lot more than it will hurt you."
Peering into my eyes, Penny adds, "Thy eyes are not unfamiliar. Are thee the kin of the Captain America and Dazzler?"
Shoot! I forgot all about that tiny detail. When I use my powers, both Mom's and Dad's, my eyes turn blue, the same shade as my parents. A dead giveaway. Shoot! That was one of the first war lessons I ever learned from Dad. Your eyes give everything away. Forgetting the details can get you killed. "I'm so sorry," I apologize. A head butt and sidekick later, she's plummeting to Earth like a pink comet. The look on her face reminds me of us after Stamford. It's killing me. I catch her with a giant hand. Starliner catches me before I hit the ground. She drops me on Icelist, a member of the Thunderbolts (why the heck is she here?), and she greets me with an icicle. I manage to dodge the pointy end, but the cold material still brushes my skin. Goosebumps shoot up my back.
Once Rachel's taken care of, I move on to trying as hard as I can to stay out of the battle. I'm forced to fight when someone hurls a water bubble at me. Whirling around, I see a tanned teenage girl behind a thick wall of water, shooting blasts at me. I shoot blast after blast to no avail. I move a bit closer. The girl shifts position, and in doing so, reveals her face. My God! It's Lisa! What's she doing here, joining the Capes War Parade? Let someone else deal with it; I refuse to apprehend one of my best friends. Everglade will find her eventually. I dart to an ally. Eventually Dad is thrown in my direction. I catch him.
"Nikki? What on Earth are you doing here?" he asks, taking out somebody with his shield. Red, white, and blue glint in the sharp afternoon sunlight.
"They were low on volunteers, they needed extra power."
"What for?"
"Transport. Ever since Spider-Man defected people have been striking out like crazy."
"Anything new?"
"They're sending prisoners to the Negative Zone. They only leave if they register. Mr. Fantastic, Iron Man, and Yellowjacket helped build it. More and more heroes and villains are signing up every day, but it's still not enough. S.H.I.E.L.D.'s split down the middle. Those who resist call themselves the White Star. They're going to join you. Iron Man is under Maria Hill's control. The president is a bundle of nerves. And the Pink Rose recognized me."
Thank God I gave the summarized version; Translate tries to kick my stomach. The blow lands and I'm sent flying into a car. The window cracks. My head slams into the door handle. Jeez, that hurts like heck. As payback I send her high into the air. That takes care of Sydney von Haarlem. The rest of the time I hardly fight, landing just enough punches to cast away suspicion. By the time the sun sets, the Resistance leaves, taking some rebels with them. I attempt to help with the clean up, my back aching, waiting for the accelerated healing to kick in. Mr. Richards sends me home at about eleven, my youngness awaking his parental instincts. Good thing, too. I'm exhausted.
At home the doors are locked, but the screen door is ajar. My first thought is a break-in until I remember our house is a safe house. The fridge and cabinets are almost empty. Dishes fill the sink. In the living room the TV remote is under a chair. A table lamp is on. I grab an ice cream bar and head upstairs. A package of toothbrushes sits on the sink. Towels cover the floor. Dad's bedroom has obviously been used. The sheets are undone. Pillows and blankets are on the floor. My bedroom door is open. Thankfully all my stuff is in place, just like with Dad's scrapbooks and memorabilia. The only difference is my bed was slept in and someone's costume is on the floor. It looks suspiciously like Sprite's.
I lie in bed, alone in a deserted house, staring at Alpha Flight and League of Shadows posters. Nova and Green Lantern Corps pictures. Checkmate and X-Statix action figures. Hush and Venom frames. The quiet lets me notice how hard my heart is beating. Still affected by that stupid hole. Finally the ibuprofen kicks in, and I pass out.
o8o
Attacks on Project 42 and transports occurred frequently over the past few weeks. It seems every time we capture someone new they know about it, and I have no part in telling Dad. Dad must be really getting desperate. His group isn't that big to begin with. The longer the SRA stays in action, the more people are pressured into signing up. More and more show up every day. This means the rebels are losing potential hitters. On the other hand, Uncle Tony is convinced there's a traitor. He's right. Though that means I've been sloppy. Let my guard down enough for others to realize my intentions might not be what I say they are. Any day now he might figure out Rebel is the betrayer. It's already been extremely difficult keeping my identity secret from the population at large. Nikki Rodgers must not be Rebel. No matter how many times I tell myself that, I still mess up. I try to stay out of as many battles as I can. It's hard, since big shots deemed me powerful, perfect for keeping the captured in check. Lucky me. Not to mention my acting skills took a considerable drop when I found out Uncle Tony doubts me. They should have gotten better, but no, they had to get worse. Typical. I'm now on his list of possible traitors. Whoop-de-do.
A little over a week ago we set a trap at an old chemical plant. Dad thought people were trapped, but when they came, we showed up. The battle was fierce. I managed to hold up against U.S.A. (an alien from Kyaia named Cristina Ole with adaptability powers), Eternal (a woman named Aurora Lilgani possessing limited immortality and god-like powers), Daredevil, and Patriot. That surprised me. We even arrested a few. But the worst part came when Uncle Tony called in a clone they made of Thor. It was crazy powerful and…and… I can hardly write these words. It killed Bill Foster. Goliath. Threw its hammer straight through his chest. Gone in a heartbeat. That really struck home for a lot of people. People die in wars and it made this whole thing reveal its true colors. I don't know about the others, but Goliath's…departure was a real eye-opener. We're playing with the big boys now. Honestly, that fact scares the crap out of me.
Today marks the one month anniversary of the Civil War. A month full of fighting, convincing, and pain. Teri signed up a couple of days ago. That's not so bad, since she's fighting with her dad. Out of my other two best friends, Miguel joined Dad. He'll protect him for my sake. But the worse part? Lisa is now a convicted criminal. The water person I saw at the first transport really was her. A young woman wearing a shimmering water-like swimsuit calling herself H2O was spotted robbing a jeweler's tent at a craft fair. Nothing major. The point is Lisa tried-and succeeded. This-this is unbelievable.
"I got that power.
I got that power.
I got that power.
Power power power
And I'm loving every second minute hour bigger better stronger power
And I'm loving every second minute hour bigger better stronger power."
As will. and Justin Bieber's new hit "#Thatpower" closes, Foster the People's latest begins playing.
"Yeah! He found a six-shooter gun in his dad's closet, with the box of fun things.
I don't even know what, but he's coming for you, yeah, he's coming for you!
All the other kids with the pumped up kicks
You better run, better run, outrun my gun.
All the other kids with the pumped up kicks
You better run, better run, faster than my bullet."
There's "Pumped Up Kicks" for ya. I shut the alarm off and lay my journal off to the side. Nobody better find that. It has every piece of info I have told Dad, enough to fill several pages. Dumb idea, now that I think about it. Hurriedly I pull on my costume, throw a sweatshirt overtop, and grab a breakfast bar from the pantry. I rummage through a dresser drawer for the credit card. Only I know how to use it, so Dad mostly uses cash unless I finally agree to go shopping. Anyway, I pocket the card and go to the nearest shopping center. I try to get a variety, since so many different people are coming and going through our kitchen. At the checkout the cashier looks me over, noticing my younger-than-15 face, allowing me to swipe the card nonetheless. Back at home I put everything away. Then I run to Stark Tower. Inside it's chaotic. Machines beeping, people running, papers flying. "What the heck is going on?" I shout over the noise.
Animal Woman pauses and answers, "Tony caught wind of a rebel attack. We're sure they're on the move as we speak."
Before she can scurry away, Uncle Tony yells, "Everybody out! They're here!"