CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED FIFTY-ONE

New York's Newest Alpha, Part 2

Currently detecting a wave of self-doubt growing in your mind. It is unnecessary. You need only prove your worth through your actions. You have achieved this over and over again by the system’s estimate.

Geez-Louise, kid, even Triple-A thinks your way too negative about this, Chiron sighed. Listen, self-deprecation is fine for some much-needed introspection, but there comes a point where you’re just looking for excuses not to be happy. And with life being as finite as it is for people in our profession, being sad over nothing’s just dumb, you know?

Also, an appropriate colloquial expression comes to mind; Fake it until you make it.

Sam’s spirits lifted a little thanks to their encouragement, which happened so rarely that the positive reinforcement boost seemed to double or triple in value. Triple-A was sounding less and less like a computer program with each passing day too, and Sam realized he liked that about the system.

You know, I impress even myself sometimes, Chiron guffawed. Triple-A’s turning into a real boy. Or girl. Hmm, maybe I should give it a voice?

Ultromax, Sam teased.

Chiron gasped exaggeratedly. Don’t you dare joke about that… Sheesh, as if Gigantes weren’t problems enough. An A.I. with rebellious teenager syndrome would be the end of the world.

…There are no strings on me.

A chuckle escaped Sam’s lips. “That’s going to haunt my nightmares later on…”

“What will?” Sophie asked.

“Um, the part about people not liking the ice cream they name after me…?” he lied. “Soo~~o, what else you got for me?”

Sam was surprised to discover there were a lot more responsibilities to being an alpha-level hero besides inspiring their peers and taking on bad guys. He now had mandatory quarterly appearances at New York’s Children’s Hospital, guest speaker engagements with both NYU and Columbia’s School of Heroics, peer mentor programs—yes, alphas were required to have a sidekick—and then there were the commercial advisories that City Hall might ask Sam to undergo.

“The mayor’s office usually gets rising stars to do those”—Sophie patted Sam on the arm—“and you’re about to become New York’s new flavor of the month so~~o it’s definitely going to be you.”

“Isn’t that way too much publicity work?” Sam frowned. “When do I get to be a hero?”

“You’ll still be a hero, Herc, but you can delegate the small stuff to your sidekicks while you only work on the big, world-shaking crisis only alphas can handle,” Sophie explained.

Sam’s brow creased. Sidekicks… as in plural?”

“I guess you only need one for the city’s peer-mentor program, but most alphas have at least five sidekicks active at any given time. In fact”—Sophie elbowed Sam conspiratorially—“I hear Commander Bravo has more than a dozen extra sidekicks he hasn’t registered into his hero guild. Officially, though, Bravo Guild only has an eight-man sidekick roster with three partner heroes besides C.B. helping to manage the guild.”

“Hero guild,” Sam gulped.

He hadn’t thought about it much because Sam never thought he’d reach this point, but most of the big-name superheroes either owned or were part of firms that hired and employed heroes to fulfill the duties that couldn’t be forsworn.

From an educational standpoint, hero guilds helped nurture and grow sidekicks while also allowing heroes to learn how to manage a group or business. Moreover, guild members received stable salaries, have missions readily available to them, and most importantly, they’re offered a healthcare plan. Hero guilds were also practical in today’s calamity-saturated crisis market. Guild members train hard to work together with various specialties like disaster rescue and relief, crime management, and VIP security which would become part of a guild’s all-inclusive service. Finally—and arguably the most important element of a guild—organizational structure. There’s a clear line of leadership within guilds that most hero teams lack mostly thanks to egos often butting heads. Particularly in temporary team-up scenarios. Nearly every registered hero in the world was part of a guild too.

From information he’d gathered back in the days he’d been a hero fanboy, Sam knew Wolf-Woman, Miracle-Girl, and Ice Brand were all members of Drengr Guild, a huge Norse-affiliated organization with offices in California, New York, Seoul, Rio De Janeiro, Johannesburg, Hong Kong, and Tokyo. He thought Dr. Hearthstone was also with Drengr Guild due to his close friendship with Wolf-Woman, but Sam had asked the doc about it recently because he was curious how a blessed of Hephaestus could be part of a guild serving a different pantheon. Dr. Hearthstone explained that he wasn’t.

“I work with them a lot because Drengr Guild is a multinational organization with a lot of influence across various hero communities and governments, and that helps with my work as a senior partner of Heroes Without Borders,” Dr. Hearthstone had explained in between sips of tea back when they had just started on their journey for San Francisco’s Golden Gate Bridge.

Sam was surprised to hear that the doc was with HWB, a humanitarian organization praised around the world, not just for their heroic endeavors, but also for the charitable efforts their enlisted heroes undertake during their visits to developing nations. In the doc’s case, he makes use of his past profession as a surgeon to provide aid to those who sorely need it but have little access to proper healthcare.

“Could I… I mean… Would I be—”

“If you’re interested in joining HWB, come talk to me again after we’ve found the Golden Fleece. We could always use a healer with your talent,” Dr. Hearthstone had promised. “So, more tea?”

It wasn’t just the doc either. Sam’s other teammates each had storied affiliations separate from their spot on the Argo VII.

Jackboot served as the American operative for his family’s legendary hero team which the hare-themed hero claimed he couldn’t get out of no matter how far he ran away.

“Union Jack’s a bloody global brand… and no matter where I go, I’m always going to be ‘his’ grandson,” Jackboot had once complained to Sam. “It’s like I’m eternally stuck in my family’s shadow and I will never be my own hero, you know?”

This was just before they’d arrived at the Golden Gate Bridge, and Jackboot and Sam had a moment to themselves in the Argo VII’s equipment compartment where both heroes had an animated conversation about their family’s legacies.

“Is that why you were so eager to join this adventure?” Sam had asked.

Jackboot had nodded, but he was also adamant about being all-in on the mission. “It’s not just about breaking out of Union Jack’s shadow anymore. I genuinely want to help you and Thunder—and not just because I’m crushing on her too.”

“I know,” Sam had sighed, which Jackboot also imitated. Prompting Farsight’s voice to come from the speakers behind the wall Jackboot was leaning against. “Jack, your butt’s pressed on the call button. We can hear everything you two just talked about… Thoughts?”

Speaking of Farsight, as a fellow member of Apollo’s chosen cadre, Sam knew that she was still a registered member of the Fated Sisters. Although she was its only active member now since Lucille Peters, AKA Madam Fate had died in the apartment fire where Sam first encountered the Trickster, while Maeve Warner, AKA Red Weaver was still suffering from the coma the Trickster put her in back when he had invaded her home a few months ago.

“I’m not alone, Sam,” she’d told him way back when they’d first left New York together on the Argo VII’s maiden voyage. “I wish I were sometimes… but the voices in my head are always around to whisper portents of doom and gloom into my brain nowadays.”

“How do you deal with it?” Sam had asked.

“I make jokes, and I kick ass,” she’d answered. “Which is why I’ll be making fun of you a lot. So, don’t take it personally.”

And Sam never did no matter how exasperating Farsight could get sometimes. He didn’t mind being her outlet.

As for the guild question, Farsight had pointed out that Sam needn’t follow the norm as most heroes did. He had someone right in front of him who was proof that a successful solo career was indeed possible.

“Thunder may be down now, but she’ll get back up before that ten-count and then blow the world’s collective minds away again after you’ve healed her,” Farsight had reminded Sam.

Thunder wasn’t the only solo success story either. Her cousin, America’s top dog, was also a hero who liked to fight on his own, partly because he never seemed to need help. He and Thunder were awesome like that. Sam wasn’t sure he had the chops to build a solo career as those two have though.

Maybe eventually going solo is the fate of an Argonaut trained by Chiron, Sam wondered.

Sam’s reminiscing of past conversations was disrupted by the sound of Sophie’s voice calling him back into the here and now.

“I hear you’re already part of a temporary secret hero team so you might want to hold off on starting your guild until after you guys disband,” Sophie added. “But you’ll also want to discuss the timing of announcing your next move—whether you’re sticking to your team, joining a hero guild, or building your own—with your publicist first. Things can get pretty hectic in the first month of an ultra-rare assessment.”

‘My… publicist?”

“You do have a publicist, right?”

Sam shook his head, prompting shock to flash on Sophie’s face.

“Who doesn’t have a publicist nowadays?” she asked in a flabbergasted tone.

“Me.” Sam pointed a thumb at his chest. “I didn’t think I needed one…”

“Get one.” The expression on Sophie’s face was dead serious. “You need one. Especially now.”

“O-okay… Uh, you wouldn’t happen to know any affordable—”

“Are you done yet, Salinger?” Warden Malarkey was stalking back to where Sophie and Sam were huddled. “Whatever it is can wait… Mr. Joveday would like a private word with New York’s newest alpha.”

“Mr. Joveday…?” Sam’s eyes widened in surprise at hearing the name of the support expert who was as big a deal as Chiron or Mr. Moonday in the field of hero support. “Holy Zeus… the leader of the Wardens wants to meet me?!”