New Prospects

October 15, 1939

The desert sun mercilessly bore down on Shiera Sanders as she crossed the dunes. She had been naive enough to think that she had grown accustomed to the heat in her time at the dig site. Her current predicament was a vivid rebuttal of that idea. In ordinary circumstances, Shiera would never attempt to walk across the sands during the day. The ordinary was a luxury that she could no longer afford.

Up until two days ago, Shiera was working at an archeological site in the Libyan desert, one that had been identified as the possible tomb of the exiled pharaoh Kha-Ef-Re. She downplayed her optimism prior to her arrival. There were always false leads or mistaken identities in her profession. Sifting through the debris of the past was seldom a cut and dry process. In the months that followed, Shiera felt her enthusiasm return. They were uncovering one of the best preserved tombs she had ever seen, complete with ancient text that indicated they were on the trail of the pharaoh.

She would lay awake outside of her tent, looking up at the ocean of stars above the desert. There was a sense of belonging, here, in the work that she never felt back in America. Shiera enjoyed all of it, even the arduous parts. Eating with her colleagues. Complaining about the food that their cooks, Ibrahaim and Khaleel, claimed they made with extra love, just for her. Discussing the past with Marwaan, a local archeologist, the one that had first started work on the site.

It wasn't all smooth sailing. They had had a few close encounters with bandits, eager to take protection money from the group. Shiera had done her best to negotiate with them, to prove that they weren't an easy mark. There was also grumbling that a woman like her should not be in charge of such an expedition. Other names were suggested. Carter Hall. Dan Garett, who was known to be one of the foremost scholars on Kha-Ef-Re. Shiera shot them all down. She would not have her hard work stolen at the last minute.

The last few weeks were among the most difficult on a logistical level, with great care being taken to carefully unearth entire sections of the buried structure. She could tell that they were close to the critical juncture, the point that would reveal the true value of the entire endeavor. Her team pressed on, working even as storms buffeted their camp. They were close.

Then the Nazis showed up.

The soldiers hadn't even pretended to be interested in a peaceful outcome. Shiera had awoken to the sound of a motor vehicle approaching, swiftly followed by the chatter of machine gun fire, as the Nazis unloaded their weapons on the camp. She had been forced to crawl out on her hands and knees. Shiera recalled seeing Marwaan slumped over on a bench, crimson droplets creating a pattern on the sand below.

So she fled, into the desert. Shiera marched over the rocks and the sand, in the heat, her skin blistering and peeling as she took aching step after step. She marched for all her companions that lay slain at the dig site. There was a debt incurred that Shiera was intent on repaying in full.

She would not die in this desert.

October 19, 1939

"If I had known all I was getting was the silent treatment, I might never have agreed to this," said Ted Knight.

The somber man driving the car paid him no mind, as he had done the entire car ride. Ted sighed, his latest and last attempt in vain, deciding that staring out the window was the only option at this point. He was rewarded with a view of rural Ohio for his troubles.

Ted was in this car because he accepted an invitation from an enthusiastic G-man with an expensive haircut and a propensity for using the term "aces". The man and a pair of silent, flanking associates who could've passed for twins had visited Ted two weeks ago with a proposal. To take a visit to a special lab, one that was working on projects similar to Ted's area of expertise. He dragged his feet in their initial conversation, but his girlfriend Doris told him in no uncertain terms that he was a lazy layabout who needed an excuse like this to get some actual work done.

Ted took offense to her at first, but he couldn't deny that his own studies had stalled out. Attempting to isolate the cosmic radiation he had detected with his observatory was proving trickier than anticipated. There was also the matter of his secret project with the cosmic rod, which failed to coalesce into the miracle of science he was convinced it could be. Ted realized that Doris was right, as she so often was, and called back the man, who introduced himself as King Faraday. Thus, the six hour car ride from Opal City.

The never ending trip reached its ignoble conclusion as they pulled up to a small compound fenced off with razor wire in the otherwise vacant farmlands.

"So long buddy. Don't talk the ear off of your next passenger," said Ted.

He was greeted at the gates by another set of solemn federal agents, who led him into the main building, a hangar of sorts. It was bare save for a few stacks of crates and a set of cargo trucks on the far side. King Faraday awaited him.

"Ted! Glad you could make it."

"I wouldn't want to miss this. Whatever this is," said Ted, gesturing at the almost empty hangar.

"You know the expression 'Don't judge a book by its cover?' Well here's a good example of that," said Faraday.

Ted steadied himself as the patch of floor they were standing on descended. Within moments, they were underneath the hangar, on an elevator rail that opened up into a vast space. There was an array of complex machinery, vehicles and personnel that dwarfed anything he had ever seen.

"I aways love that look," said Faraday.

"What look?"

"The one you've got on your face right now."

Faraday led him on an abbreviated tour of the facility. Every corridor led to new wonders. Novel types of propulsion, communication, automation, protection, detection, and medicine. Ted estimated that the technologies on display in even just this sliver of the complex were over a decade ahead of what anyone could imagine.

"You let that jaw hang any lower and it'll be on the floor," said Faraday.

"Sorry. It's just a shock."

"If it makes you feel better, everyone has a similar reaction. Honestly, I'd be worried if anyone took it too much in stride. Take a look at this."

They passed a window that showed a room with a small, silver disc attached to gargantuan coils of electricity. A pear sat on the disc. A man with neat, red hair operated a panel of flashing bulbs and buttons. Ted watched as the coils glowed, the disc began to vibrate. In a flash of light, the pear was gone.

"What did I just watch?"

"I could tell you. But that requires a different conversation first."

Faraday walked away from the window, beckoning Ted to follow. As he did, Ted saw that the red haired man looked annoyed, hunched over his panel/

Faraday brought him to an office, a space of comparative normalcy. The two sat down.

"This is unbelievable," said Ted.

"Precisely. Just how we like it," Faraday said. "This is where I give you the pitch. Tell you all about how we need your expertise. How a genius like you is otherwise wasted. Maybe lean on you with a few half-concealed threats if you hesitate, warn you that you've seen too much and we'd have to keep a close eye on you if you choose to not take the position. But, I won't insult your intelligence, Ted. You know where this is going."

"You want me to work on a project here. In secret."

Faraday nodded.

"What about Doris? My friends?"

"We're not slave drivers," said Faraday, chuckling. "You get time off. Everyone needs to loosen their tie now and again. As long as they don't also loosen their lips."

"What's the project?"

"Energy. We know all about your studies with cosmic radiation. The papers you've written on the new possibilities afforded to us by recent advances in physics. The powers that be want you to lead a team that would produce new methods of power generation."

"I would lead the team? Me?"

"The one and only."

Ted ran his fingers through his hair. On the one hand, he was brimming with excitement. A part of his mind was already racing through all the possibilities afforded by such a well-funded location. Another part of him was wondering if he should pinch himself to wake up.

"Like I said, I'll be straight with you Ted. The world out there, it's getting pretty hairy. We've got that mustachioed fellow thinking he's going to be the next Caesar in Europe. Asia's going to hell too. Uncle Sam needs all the help he can get. To keep our edge. To stay out of this nonsense. This facility, this organization are all part of an effort to maintain that peace.

I know you keep yourself entertained back in Opal. I've seen those parties you attend. But ask yourself, don't you want to be a part of something that matters?"

Ted squeezed his hands, leaning forwards in his seat. The answer came before it had even fully materialized in his mind.

"I want to- I need to be a part of this."

Faraday gave him a flashy smile and extended his hand.

"Well Ted, welcome to Vanguard."