Cassidy:

  Nothing ever goes the way Mira’s stories did! I’m so bad at everything!

  Despite her best efforts, Cassidy just didn’t seem cut out for the hero life. She’d grown up one of a dozen kids saved by Dame Clarke, and every one of them had turned out better than she had. Several of them ran a chain of fitness centers all around the lower city, and they became pillars of their local communities. A few of her siblings ended up as new heroes, walking in Mira’s footsteps.

  It had finally become her time. Cassidy was finally old enough to go out and do her own thing. And it had been one bust after another. She wasn’t weak, but somehow nobody ever ended up happy with her. She just didn’t get people.

  Mira understood. She was a great old lady. She knew just what it was like to never be understood by others. That, and they shared in the same social bad luck. They only ever seemed to run into the most dramatic and bizarre characters around.

  Speaking of…

  “Stars, kid. Tell your do-gooder nosy friends to leave me alone.” The blonde woman said, huffing as she turned back towards the stairs.

  “I’m sorry,” Cassidy whimpered, nearly in tears after messing up again.

  “Thanks for that.”

  Cassidy turned towards the lowlife she’d kicked in the cheek. “Thanks? Why thank me?”

  “Well,” he paused, searching for the right words, “I somehow feel like if you hadn’t interrupted, I was about to be dragged into something terrifying.”

  Then another man approached, dressed in the same greens and greys Mira always wore, which became the sacred colors of their family.

  “You understand me?” The old guy spoke in Mira’s secret code lingo!

  Cassidy gaped at the old man. “Who. Are. You?!”

  The aging guy took two steps back, slapping a hand over his eyes.

  She tilted her head. “Something wrong?”

  “Uh. You just bounced around a lot, and those clothes aren’t covering much.”

  Cassidy looked down. She didn’t really get it. And she said so. “Is something wrong about that?”

  The lowlife said something then, but Cassidy didn’t really catch it before the guy made himself scarce.

  “Yes. A lady like you shouldn’t be goin’ around exposing herself to everyone like that.”

  “But these are the sacred colors of justice. I couldn’t possibly wear something else.”

  The old guy paused, frowning. Then he shook his head. “I guess that’s a topic for later. Who taught you English, kid?”

  Cassidy bounced in place, one hand on her hip, the other in a hero salute. “None other than Mira herself! It’s the hero code language. How’d you learn it, old man?”

  “Oh, call me Barclay. Miranda taught you? She’s an old friend. Could you bring me to her?”

  Cassidy’s smile dimmed. “Sorry. She doesn’t like visitors.”

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “What if I told you she and I were comrades when we were really young, and that we haven’t seen each other in decades? Do you think she’d wanna meet an old friend from that far back?”

  She paused, thinking about that. The old guy was wearing hero colors. “I’ll trust you. My name is Cassidy. I can take you to meet her.”

  “Thanks a million, kid.” The old guy cheered up visibly, his lopsided grin really suiting his messy beard and greying hair.

  With that, she led the way into the jungle of pipes and sheet metal that separated the scrap style homes of the bursting population of the undercity. Humans in Hallitheen just didn’t have much to do. Food was abundant, but hobbies and games were luxuries most didn’t have the space for. So there was a shocking number of kids born every year, which only made the population issue worse.

  Somehow, Barclay really knew what he was doing, because none of the kids managed to lift his shiny stuff from his belt or any of the pouches on his vest. He moved deceptively fast, and nobody got anything by him.

  They made great time, not having to chase down any rambunctious urchins. Cassidy was impressed when they made it in just a few hours.

  Finally, they emerged from a trapdoor into a home built into the gaps between production facilities.

  “Mira, I’m back!” Cassidy called. “There’s someone here to see you. Said he was an old friend.”

  There was no response, but that wasn’t odd. The sound of rustling cloth and bare feet on metal still reached them from the back.

  A soft coughing came before the words did. “Cass, what have I told you about bringing… Oh.”

  An older woman emerged, her wrinkles and burn scars showing her age far more than her still vivid hair did. She was halted in the doorway, standing at over two meters tall with shockingly broad shoulders and rigid posture. Dame Clarke’s eyes were wide with surprise.

  “You’re looking… a little worse for wear, Clarke.” Barclay said, a wry smile on his face.

  “You’ve gotten a bit old, too. Is it only you?”

  Cassidy looked back and forth between them, then stepped aside to watch a no-doubt tearful reunion.

  “Nah, I ditched the lieutenant back in the upper city. I’m sure he’s tracking me by now, though.”

  “How well did he age?” Mira asked, looking thoughtful.

  Barclay laughed as he threw his hands wide. “That boot-licker’s back to being a teenager! Got himself cloned and everything. Lucky bastard. Captain’s in the same boat. She’s a little wet behind the ears still, but she’s growing back into those shoes.”

  Mira swayed in the doorway, then promptly flopped onto her bum, staring at the ceiling.

  “You’re sure? Not their kids or something? It’s really Vilke and Marielle?”

  Barclay stepped aside and leaned into the wall. “Sure as I can be. Marielle recognized me right away. How long have you been out of your pod, Clarke?”

  “Thirty years, give or take. I think I missed a few days here and there.”

  “What the hell. An’ I thought I was old.”

  Miranda glared at him. “I’m not! Well, can’t say that, really. I am old. Counting space? It’s been centuries since I was born. Lived experience? I’m only pushing sixty now.”

  “We heard you might be around here. Marielle sent Vilke and I to find you. To invite you back with us.”

  Cassidy tensed. Is Mira leaving us?

  Miranda shook her head, though. “I don’t know. I’m not in fighting shape anymore. These random coughing fits and old injuries? I think my excitement days are behind me.”

  Then Miranda looked over at Cassidy. “I’ve got a half dozen orphans to keep raising. But what about you, Cass? Do you want to go on an adventure? Do you want to meet THE Major Kishibe from my old stories?”

  “I’m vetoing that unless she puts on proper clothes, Clarke.” Barclay grumbled in warning.

  “Fuck off, Barclay. Let a girl show off,” Miranda waved him away. “Never taught one of my kids to be shy.”

  “Taught them to be exhibitionists, clearly.”

  Miranda backhanded the old man halfheartedly. “I heard that. I’m not hard of hearing yet.”

  “I said it at perfectly normal volume.”

  All the while, Cassidy stood in shocked silence. Major Kishibe is real? And I can meet her? After all her failures trying to find her own way, it sounded like a dream come true. More than that, it was an offer to meet figures of legend.

  “Don’t get too excited, kid.” Barclay settled a hand on her shoulder, looking up into her eyes sharply. “Meeting your heroes is always different from what you’d expect. Nobody measures up to the stories you hear from others.”

  “That doesn’t sound like how I remember the Major.” Miranda argued back. “Does that woman ever fail to deliver?”

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