I stand on the rooftop of my apartment building in my costume and look far up into the sky. There’s just a hint of something hovering above the clouds. It’s the kind of thing that, even in plain sight, you wouldn’t see it unless you were looking for it.

The Shatterpack’s Sky Fortress, the ever watchful eye, floating high above St. Mignola.

All right, I tell my powers, this interview is important. If I can get up there and join the team, then I can be more of a help to people. This isn’t about fitting in with the big boys and being a true hero for the first time in my life. This is about helping people.

I suddenly feel light as air as my feet touch off the ground. I thank my powers and take flight up towards the Sky Fortress. I clear the clouds in no time and see the hovering fortress in front of me. It has several round levels to it, almost like several flying saucers stacked on top of each other. The spherical floors of the base, ranging from largest on the bottom to smallest on top, each have a series of (apparently SPEC-proof) windows. Similar to that tower in Seattle, they all slowly spin like some overly complex observation deck.

I’ve never been here before but I’ve been told by other SPECs, like Aftershock, where to go for interviews. Aftershock didn’t make it, which I always thought was weird since he’s one of the rare speedy heroes in the world.

I fly to the very top of the Sky Fortress and land on the top spinning disc. As soon as I land, a small flying sphere pops out of its holding place and hovers in my face.

“Identification, please,” the sphere asks in its robotic voice.

“Uh, The Altruist,” I say, trying to hide that I’m baffled.

“State business, please.” I can’t get over how polite this little thing sounds; Vanderton Robotics technology at its best, folks. Most are programmed to be polite to a tee. Which is funny, considering the original source of the company.

“Um. I have an interview?”

The little machine hovers in my face for a few seconds, holding the moment. It finally speaks after what feels like forever, “You may proceed.” The little sphere disappears into its housing at the top of the Fortress disc before I can even say thanks.

I hear a whirring noise and from the very center of the top disc, a port opens up. I was expecting an elevator, but really, if a SPEC can’t get up here somehow on their own, is there really any worth of them being on the team? But then, only Humanity Man and Susan have any natural flight abilities, so maybe that’s bad reasoning.

My feet leave the metal disc as I fly down into the hole and land into the main room of top disc. I find myself landing on the glistening tile floor in the center of the room. Surrounding the edge of the room is a giant marble desk or bar, depending on your point of view. It surrounds the entire room, except for a single door that probably takes me to the elevator or another part of the disc.

As I spin around to look at my surroundings, I see that I’m not alone.

Like judges at a hearing, members of the Shatterpack sit at their respective chairs behind the surrounding desk. Each of them has their hands folded in front of them and keeping a stern look on their face. The lump in my throat grows to the size of a golf ball.

First, there’s the Armadillo. His brown, scaly hands are folded like the rest. His little ears jut out of cuts in his fedora and it’s not hard to notice the mutant armadillo’s natural hide, even under the brown trenchcoat. He looks to be hunched over, sticking his snout out further, but I think it’s just the hump-like nature of his natural hide. From what Susan has told me, he started as a protégé to Doc Crimson. The Armadillo has since become a private detective of his own. If I get a chance, I’d love to hear his thoughts on the talk of the bomb mentioned by Red Brick last night.

Second, I see Susan, decked out in her Arcana outfit. She looks much like a druid in her white robe and gold crown upon her head. Her hood is hiding most of her face, though. The fact that I can’t look her in the eyes doesn’t help the lump in my throat. Like her mother before her, Susan is the latest in a long line of druidic magicians. There were rumours of her relatives fighting in wars going back to the Bronze Age, but Susan’s never gone into much detail about her family history.

Third, I see the pair of Hightower and Roadblock. They’re separated just as evenly as the rest of the team, but they’re similar fashion sense of a couple of road workers show that they are a duo. Both of their respective trademark yellow hardhats rest on the counter in front of them. Roadblock is a short and portly man while Hightower is a tall, lean man. They look like a superhero, road crew version of Abbott and Costello. I’ve seen them in action, both on TV and on the streets. Hightower can grow to thirty times his size. Roadblock is the epitome of the “immovable object”. Together, they own a small construction company that helps rebuild parts of the city after a major SPEC brawl.

Finally, there’s Humanity Man, in all his blonde glory. Despite sitting behind a circular desk that’s meant to represent equality in the team, he still manages to look like the centerpiece. I swear that the “H” on his chest has grown larger since last time I saw him on the news. It’s probably to counter balance his ego. He’s been in the city for years. Susan tells me that his powers are directly derived from the greater population. In other words, the larger the population that he works in, the greater his power.

I stare directly at Humanity Man, standing at ease like a good military soldier. Those couple of weeks at boot camp from when I was a kid may actually pay off.

“Do you know why you are here?” Humanity Man asks in his strong voice.

“Yes, sir.” I shift and straighten up just a little. “I understand that you might want to recruit me to the Shatterpack.”

“Our sorceress, Arcana, has spoken highly of you, Altruist,” The Armadillo grumbles from my left. I remain staring at Humanity Man, so as not to show any fear. The problem is that he’s staring right back, almost as if he’s sizing me up.

“I’ve worked with her on a few occasions, yes,” I hold my chin up a little bit.

“What do you hope to bring to this team?” Arcana asks me from my right.

“I’m not very powerful but I can help with evacuation of citizens and maybe minions.”

There’s a pause among them. The silence is getting to be unsettling but I try not to say anything. The single spotlight that they have me in the darkness certainly doesn’t help matters. Nor that each of them has a spotlight on themselves.

Finally, Humanity Man speaks up, “What kind of powers do you have, Altruist?”

I think for a minute. What powers do I really have, honestly?

“Well,” I say after a pause to think, “I can fly—”

“He can fly!” Humanity Man slams the palm of his hands on the desk, showing off a very blatant fake showing of surprise and shock.

“He can fly?” I hear Roadblock shout from behind me.

“He can fly!” Hightower chimes in an answer.

Thankfully, Arcana and The Armadillo decide not to join in the mocking. I can barely hear Arcana mutter under her breath, “Tom, you’re such a jerk.”

I feel like I’m back in Junior High, being laughed at during the lip sync contest. In an attempt to look like The Beatles, I had cut my hair like their bowl cut. I was laughed off the stage.

“And, um,” I start to say, trying to redeem my composer, “I can use other powers, too. I just have to convince them that I’m doing it to help people and not myself.”

Another unnerving silence fills the room.

“Convince whom?” The Armadillo questions in his gruff voice.

“My powers,” I answer, “I have to persuade them that I’m not using them for selfish reasons.”

“Do they ever fail on you?” Hightower asks me from behind.

“Well, er,” I pause and think for a moment. If I’m going to join this team, I have to be completely honest with them. “Yes. If I think a selfish thought like getting a female citizen’s number or a cash reward, then they cut out on me. Even if I really don’t want what I’m thinking.”

“So,” The Armadillo speaks up again, “If you think selfish thoughts, you lose your powers?”

“Only for a second or two, I swear!”

Humanity Man slams his fist down on the marble desk, “A second or two could mean the difference between an alien armada invasion teleporting or not! In a second or two, you could miss catching a bullet or stopping a train from crashing!”

I can’t help but wonder if he’s getting some perverse pleasure out of this. I refuse to take my eyes off of him, though, and give him the gratification of my showing a weakness. I desperately want to look to Susan for any kind of assistance.

“Where did you get these powers, hrm?” The Armadillo asks. He’s the best on the team for digging up dirt, both literally and metaphorically.

I can’t help but give a little shrug. I’ve been dying to use this line ever since I got my powers, “I fell into a vat of radioactive integrity?”

There’s another deep, long silence; this one being the longest. Humanity Man raises an eyebrow at me and seems to refuse to budge. I thought for sure that joke would have gotten a rise out of someone. But the silence just goes on and on, with no end in sight.

And then the entire team cracks up. Even The Armadillo. Even Humanity Man.

“That’s priceless! How long have you wanted to use that line?” Humanity Man says, wiping a tear. I can even hear Susan snickering underneath her hood. The Armadillo is making little grumbled, chuckling noises. I can hear Roadblock and Hightower guffawing behind me.

“Oh man,” Humanity Man chuckles a little more, “Fortress? Lights, please.”

I squint at the darkness suddenly clearing away when all the lights come on. Great, maybe they’ll keep me on for comic relief or something. Well heck, I guess it’s better than nothing.

The Shatterpack climb out of their chairs and come to meet me in the middle of the floor. Hightower, all seven feet of him, towers over me, and pats me on the shoulder. Roadblock, all five-foot-nothing of him, shakes my hand. The Armadillo tips his hat to me and exits through the door. I hear him grumbling something about monitor duty to himself.

Susan surprises me with a hug, breaking character as Arcana, which is usually mysterious, “I knew you’d fit in here, Zach. Good work. And don’t let them shoe-horn you into monitor duty all the time.”

Before she pulls away from the embrace, a number of red lights begin blinking in the main chamber. A loud siren blares into my ears. A mechanical recording, not unlike that of the orb guard that greeted me, comes through several speakers. I notice for a brief second, the alarm makes Susan squeeze me a little tighter. I look over my shoulder and see Humanity Man, noticing a not so discreet look of jealousy.

“Warning. Gravitational control of Sky Fortress has been breached. Fall imminent in…one minute.” The warning then goes on to repeat itself, along with a countdown.

Hightower and Roadblock glance at each other, grab their hard hats and start heading towards the door where The Armadillo had exited. They’re bickering back and forth like an old married couple.

“What do you think it is, this time? Shiro, maybe?” Hightower asks his partner.

“Nah, not his style,” Roadblock answers, “He’s more of the direct approach kind of assassin.”

“Lord Powerhouse?”

“Heck no! He wouldn’t lower himself to a direct assault like this.”

“Say, maybe it’s that new guy the kid fought? He’s into dropping stuff from the sky.”

“Sure, and this time, the kid can put the fortress down right in front of Alaya’s school, so Susan doesn’t have to worry about transport anymore.” Roadblock goes on, but the door whisks shut.

Those two are a couple of real jokers, I swear. Susan’s lip is curled in anger under her hood, but then she calmly sits herself down in the middle of the tiled floor. She crosses her legs into a yoga-like position. Humanity Man looks down at her in near disgust.

“Susan, this is no time to take a rest,” he growls. “We may have to evacuate.”

“And I’m going to do what I can to stop the Fortress from crashing, Tom,” I notice quite a bit of coldness in her voice when she addresses him. “But I need full concentration to do magical telekinesis this big. Holding an object up in the air is tough enough as it is.” She calmly pulls her hood back. Her eyes roll back in unison.

“Kid, get to the communication room. There are signs all over the place. See what you can do to help the team, would you?” Humanity Man barks at me. Without a delay, I back away towards the door as I see Humanity Man reach into one of his belt pouches.

He pulls out what looks to be a gold wedding band. I can’t help but notice a small lump in his glove, on his ring finger, that would indicate he is still wearing his. As the door whizzes to a close, Humanity Man is squatting down in front of his ex-wife.

“Listen, this is probably not the best time to talk about this but…” he begins to say.

And then the door closes. I start heading for the communications room.