Men of Mystery

Metahumans

Cerulean went back to his life for a while fighting crime once more in Central City. As Craig Crent he watched for signs of other people like him and after a few weeks began to doubt there were any. But that was ridiculous. There must be he just had to find them.

The next day, he saw an ad in the Daily Record. It read, "Looking for my 12 noon rendezvous at 12 Main St." This seemed odd. There was no 12 Main St in town. Suddenly Craig realized this was a message from Agent 12. It was time for his monthly report.

Quickly changing into his Cerulean costume, He leaped into the air landing at 1200 Main St. There waiting for him with Agent 12.

"I see you got my message finally," said the man in the dark suit.

"I did. What do you mean finally?" asked the cyan sentinel.

"I've been running ads in the newspapers for a week."

"I see. Sorry about that. I'm not the easiest person to contact."

"No, but now that you are here, but can set this time and place as are standard meeting point."

"All right," said Cerulean.

"So what do you have to report?"

"Nothing really. I'm looking for people to recruit. But I have found anyone yet."

"Keep at it. There must be other metahumans."

"Other what?"

"Metahumans. It's the term we are using for people like you."

"Who is 'we'?"

"Senior officials in the State Department. It's from the philosophy of Nietzsche about the overman or übermensch."

Cerulean folded his arms across his chest. He was not impressed. "Is that it?"

"Yes, unless you have something else to report."

"I don't." He jumped into the air and was gone. He wasn't sure working with the government was a good idea.

*.*.*

Winter came to Central City days later, cold and harsh. Snow blanketed much of the northern United States and Central City was just one of the major metropolitan areas that had to clear it. Some people were happy to see it because it put them in the holiday spirit. And despite the new from Europe about war, Craig found many people in a good mood straight through New Year's Day and weeks into 1939 until news of an earthquake striking Chile came over the newswire.

Instantly Craig thought about traveling to Chile to help rescue anyone left alive, but it would take a week or more. First by train to the west coast and then by ship down to Concepción, the epicenter of the quake. But the time he got there the work would be done. He gnashed his teeth. If he could only fly, but he couldn't and there were no flights to Chile. The final death toll came a week later; 30,000 killed.

The thought of all those people crushed by collapsing buildings, a lack of food and clean water weighted heavily on Craig as winter worsened. The temperature dropped well below zero and snow kept coming down. The only silver lining in all that was the January meeting with Agent 12 was quick and painless. Cerulean had nothing to report; he came and went in under five minutes.

February's weather wasn't much better, although the temperature improved, there was snow everywhere making it hard to travel, even across town and also made the February meeting fast.

"Anything?" asked Agent 12.

Cerulean shook his head. And they went their separate ways.

Valentine's Day made Craig approach Dolores again, but she refused him. "Why would I go out with you when there are men like Cerulean available?"

Craig sighed and returned to his desk crestfallen. He briefly considered telling the paper's star female reporter that he was the man she sought, that he was Cerulean, but he wanted she to care for him as Craig, not the mysterious figure of Cerulean. He shook his head at the irony and went back to work.

The news in March wasn't any better. Hitler invaded Czechoslovakia, dissolving it as a sovereign nation. Again the urge to do something about Germany roared through him but his conversation with the President came back to him and he resumed his search for metahumans.

Fighting in India made the news too as Gandhi struggled to make his homeland free and sovereign nation separate from the British Empire. Craig admired the Indian's conviction and overall the struggle for independence was not unlike the American one over one and fifty years previous. But it wasn't clear whether the largest empire in the world would relent and free India and her people. So Craig waited to see what would happen.

The best news that month was the end of the Spanish Civil War. It would mean no more people would die in that fighting. It was unfortunate that fascists had won, but perhaps they would govern benignly. Cerulean certainly hoped so.

His meeting with Agent 12 was short again in March, although he did have one thing to report. "The crime rate in Granite City has come down," he told the man from the government.

"So?"

"So someone might be secretly bringing criminals to justice. That's how I started."

"Hmmm. All right. I'll check in with the police commissioner there. If there's something to it, you'll have to make contact with whoever is responsible."

"Very good," said Cerulean. He leaped into the air and soared over the nearby buildings.

Agent 12 lit a cigarette and wondered where these metahumans were coming from.