Excerpt from "Smoked"

Well, we are into a new year, and I thought I'd kick things out with an excerpt from "Smoked: A Kid Sensation Spin-Off Novel."  (My preference would have been to use "A Kid Sensation Companion Novel" as the subtitle, but I've learned the hard way that the term "Companion Novel" is interpreted poorly by Amazon's systems and tends to create problems.) 

Anyway, the excerpt below comes with the usual caveats (no proofing yet, etc.), so it's not the final form.

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I really didn’t want to be bothered, but whoever it was wouldn’t stop ringing the bell. It was if they knew I was inside. (And bearing in mind some of the powers folks in the League had, maybe they did.) Groaning in agitation, I headed to the door and opened it. Much to my surprise, the person on the other side was a girl, but not anyone from the League.

She was statuesque – close to six feet in height – with a flawless caramel complexion, cover girl features, and intricately braided hair that fell past her shoulders. I stared at her for a moment, realizing that I knew her from somewhere but not being able to immediately figure out how. And then it came to me.

“Atalanta, right?” I offered cautiously.

She smiled slightly. “Correct, although I honestly wasn’t sure you’d remember me, Smokescreen.”

“Well, you made quite an impression,” I assured her, and it was true.

Atalanta hailed from a small but wealthy island nation called Argo, where she was a member of a superhero team known as the Argonauts. A short time back, she had participated in an exhibition for teen supers, where she had displayed strength and speed (among other things) that essentially made it clear that she was head and shoulders above most of her peers. We had been formerly introduced around that time by Jim, but I hadn’t given much thought to her since.

Still somewhat surprised to find her at my door, I asked, “So what are you doing here?”

She frowned, and I suddenly realized that my question was not only rather blunt but had probably sounded surly as well considering my mood.

“I’m sorry,” I quickly muttered. “What I meant was, should you be walking around League HQ without an escort?”

It wasn’t an unfair question. The League typically didn’t let visitors – even “friendlies” from another superhero team – wander around the place on their own.

“Oh,” she muttered absentmindedly. “I’ve got guest privileges.”

As she spoke, she reached towards her waist, where I suddenly noticed she was wearing a special visitor’s badge clipped on a belt loop of the jeans she wore.

“As long as I’m wearing this,” she stated, tapping the badge with a finger, “I’m confident no one will suspect me of doing anything of untoward.”

I didn’t immediately respond, but her comment implied that she knew – as I did – that the badge was more than just a hall pass of sorts. In truth, it was also a piece of high-end tech which, among other things, tracked the movements of the wearer. In short, if Atalanta started heading towards an area that was off-limits (or even did something as innocuous as take the badge off), there was likely to be an urgent and immediate response.

“And as for being without an escort,” she went on, “one of the guards actually walked me to your door.”

I gave her a perplexed look. “Really?”

“Yes,” she confirmed with a nod. “I was hoping to speak with you about something.”

“Oh, uh, sure,” I said. “Come on in.”

I moved to the side, allowing Atalanta to step into my quarters. After closing the door behind her, we headed to the living room where I flopped down on the couch and she sat on the loveseat diagonal to me.

“So what can I help you with?” I asked.

Her brow furrowed for a moment. “To be honest, I was actually looking for Kid Sensation. Your friend, Jim, that is.”

I didn’t immediately respond. It was kind of an open secret in the League that Jim was Kid Sensation, but that information really wasn’t in the public domain. Ergo, it wasn’t clear to me how Atalanta had come by her information, but I wasn’t about to confirm it.

“I’m not sure I understand,” I finally said. “Are you looking for Kid Sensation or Jim?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Isn’t that a distinction without a difference? I know that they’re the same person.”

“News to me,” I declared, hoping I sounded sincere.

“In that case, let’s say I’m looking for Jim. No one here could tell me where he is, but I’m told that you’re his best friend. I asked around, eventually found out where you were, and here I am.”

I nodded. “So, you’re hoping that I – as his number one amigo – can tell you where to find him.”

“In essence, yes.”

“Well, I hate to disappoint you, but he’s on assignment. Can’t be reached, and there’s no telling when he’ll be back.”

Atalanta seemed to take a moment to digest this, giving me a few seconds reflect on the actual state of affairs. In truth, Jim was off-planet, having been called back to the homeworld of his alien grandmother, Indigo. More importantly, his grandmother had received a similar summons decades earlier, and had never returned. Likewise, there was a chance that Jim might never set foot on Earth again.

“Hmmm,” Atalanta finally droned. “That’s rather disappointing.”

“Sorry I don’t have anything more to offer,” I stated sincerely. “Is it anything I can help with?”

She gave me a weak smile. “No. It’s kind of you to offer, but in all honesty, I kind of need someone more…”

She trailed off, but I knew where she was going.

“Someone more powerful,” I finished for her, at which point she simply nodded.

I didn’t say anything else. Hers wasn’t an uncommon sentiment, and I had encountered it before. Being friends with someone like Jim basically meant that people automatically saw me as a second banana. It wasn’t anything that Jim did, per se; it was simply the fact that – with his slate of powers – he inherently casts a long shadow that almost anybody would have a tough time stepping out of. It also didn’t help that people typically viewed my talents in an interesting-but-so-what? sort of way. Normally, it didn’t bother me, but given my current disposition it wasn't anything I was in the mood for.

“Sorry I couldn’t be of more help,” I said, coming to my feet.

She rose as well, saying, “Are you sure there’s no way you can reach him?”

It was more than I could bear. I was already dealing with rejection from my girlfriend (I didn’t know how else to view Sarah two-timing me), so getting the brush-off from another female just pushed my temper over the edge.

“Look,” I demanded angrily, “I’ve already told you that Jim’s incommunicado and can’t be reached. More to the point, I’ve tried to be a nice guy and volunteered to help with whatever this problem is that you’re having. Now, if you want to look down your nose at my offer of assistance, that’s fine. But it’s the only overture I can make at the moment, and if that’s not good enough, there’s nothing I can do for you.”

She simply stood there staring at me, looking as if she wanted to say something to assuage my wounded ego. I didn’t give her the chance, instead choosing to march to the door and open it. I then turned to her expectantly. Taking the hint, she quietly walked out, and I practically slammed the door behind her.