Mom, I'm Bulletproof

Chapter 9.2: A Question of Trust

"What if you're not who you say you are? Someone led me down this street, into these men's paths. Someone commanded the Hecklers to try to kill me tonight."

Amy put her hands on her hips. "Someone tricked me recently. Tried to kill me, too."

She pulled a business card out of a small compartment on her belt. She held it out to him.

"Here's a phone number and email where you can reach me," she said. "Go on, take it."

"No."

Amy kept her arm extended, with the business card right in front of him.

"You and I are not only ones," she said. "There are others. If we pooled our resources..."

"No."

"Please," Amy said. "I've already rented a space to have a meeting, and it wasn't cheap. The others are really young or just starting out. We could all benefit from your experience."

"That card could have a tracking device on it. You're trying to find out where I come from."

"Even if I wanted to, who has the budget for things like tracking devices? I'm kind of between jobs right now."

Proscenium looked at her, looked at the card, and then looked back at her.

"July 14, 1 p.m., at the Waltham Holiday Inn just outside Boston," she said. "You're invited."

Proscenium slowly took the card from her, pinching down on it with his metal-clad thumb and forefinger. "This doesn't mean I trust you."

"I get that," she said. "Let me earn your trust."

Proscenium slid the card into a barely visible break in the armor at his wrist. He could feel the card floating inside the armor for a few seconds before it was absorbed into the raw energy constantly burning within.

"Thank you," Amy said. "Me and the others, we could learn a lot from you, I can tell. You're going to be a huge help to the team. I promise you, we're all about helping people."

"I promise nothing," he said.

He then transformed into a cloud and floated up into the sky. He assumed she would follow, but he did not sense her anywhere around him.

He floated over the city as a purple cloud for hours, reforming and then dissipating on several rooftops before he felt certain this U.S. Amy wasn't pursuing him. It was after sunrise by now and he could feel the sun start to start to heat up his metal frame, affecting the raw energy inside it.

He made his way to his theater, flowing through the air vents and reforming backstage into his solid armored form. Curtain waited for him, leaning against a chair with her long muscular legs and bare feet resting on a table.

"Where have you been?" she asked. "Management's already in the building. If someone had come here..."

"You would have known what to do," he said. "The fact that you are lounging as casually as you are says to me you sense no danger of our discovery. We are safe."

"Right as always." She sat up in the chair, pulling her feet under her.

"What have you studied tonight?"

"Bruce Lee's jeet kune do," she said. "Majorly interesting stuff. Ahead of its time. Also, the life of Joan the Arc. She was one hell of a chick."

"Indeed." Proscenium pinched his metal fingers against his wrist. After a moment of concentration, U.S. Amy's business card rematerialized inside of him, and he withdrew it from the armor.

"...combinations of other disciplines and, what's that?" Curtain jumped up from the chair and hurried over to Proscenium.

"I met someone tonight who claims to be an ally. She calls herself U.S. Amy."

Curtain's eyes widened. "I saw her on a TV commercial."

"You are forbidden to watch the television."

"I mean, I read about her commercial as part of current events studies. The important thing is, I had the feeling about her."

Proscenium glared at her. "A feeling or the feeling?"

"The latter."

"Why did you not tell me this sooner?"

"Would you have listened?"

Proscenium didn't answer. Instead, he held out a hand. "Come with me. It's time I showed you something."

Curtain drew a deep breath, looking as if she were about to make another wisecrack. Instead, she quietly placed her small fingers upon his armored palm.

Proscenium waved his other hand through air, fingers waved slightly. Part of the stage floor slid open, revealing darkness underneath.

"That's not one of the trap doors," Curtain said. "We're too far from the main stage."

"This," Proscenium said, "is the Old Pit."

# # # # 

Next: A long night.