Chapter 156

VIP Service

Alexander glanced down at the lines of powder. “No, thank you.” Then he frowned, curious. “Does that not affect you? Interfere with your powers?”

The Doorman barked a genuine laugh. “Nah, man. At our level’a Constitution, this stuff don’t do shit anymore. Mostly just habit. Scratchin’ an itch, y’know? But it hits just enough to wake me up fast.”

Alexander thought about that for a moment. He genuinely didn’t know, because his own vices didn’t run in that direction.

He took the offered seat and settled into the chair. “I need to discuss VIP services.”

The Doorman leaned back on the couch, relaxed. “Whatcha need?”

“A doorway to New York first. Preferably Brooklyn, but anywhere nearby works.”

“Brooklyn, huh? Used to be somethin’, now it’s all coffee shops and tech bros. But aight, I’ll getcha there.”

Alexander continued. “I’m going to need a bigger doorway for the return trip. And it will need to lead to a warehouse or something on the station. Something spacious. I intend to do some shopping.”

The Doorman grinned. “You bringin’ the shopping carts back with yous?”

Alexander nodded, a touch of enthusiasm creeping in. “Exactly. Lots of shopping carts.”

“Aight, easy. I can arrange everything from this end.”

“I understand it’s a special request,” Alexander said.

The Doorman’s expression shifted, humor draining away. He sat up straighter, leaning forward. His gaze sharpened.

“Favor for a favor, yeah?”

Alexander studied him, noting the change. This was the negotiation. “What would you want in return?”

The Doorman sat there, staring at him. The silence stretched. His expression was calculating.

Alexander held his gaze, wondering what this would cost, whether the convenience was worth whatever came next.

The moment dragged on.

Then the Doorman’s face lit up, intensity breaking into a grin. “Dude, you’re the fucking Machine God.” He leaned back, spreading his arms wide to encompass the room. “Just hook me up with some cool shit nobody else has, yeah? I’m a collector.”

Alexander paused. He’d expected something more demanding. More substantial.

Not tech toys.

“Anything in particular?” he asked cautiously.

“Nah, nah. Just anything Machine God-cool, y’know? Whatever yous think is neat.”

Alexander nodded slowly. “Alright. I’ll think of something, but it might be a bit before I get it to you.”

The Doorman shrugged. “S’all good. I know you’re good for it.”

“You’re the Ten of Spades?” Alexander asked after a few moments.

The Doorman smiled. “Yeah. Got promoted couple’a months back. Officially the fifth member of the Royals.” He paused. “They brought on Titanic, too. Ten of Clubs. You met that guy?”

Alexander shook his head.

“Big motherfucker.” The Doorman leaned in conspiratorially. “Legit scares me, and I ain’t scared’a much. Never seen him hurt nobody neither, but that’s ‘cause nobody’s stupid enough t’ keep bein’ a problem when he shows up.” He leaned back, frowning. “Dunno why he named himself after a boat, though.”

Alexander raised an eyebrow. “Well. Congratulations. It’s good to see the Royals are expanding their membership.” He paused. “I am wondering why you’re a Spade, though. Don’t you work for the Queen of Hearts directly?”

“Yeah, but Hearts handle the people side’a the business. Clubs run operations, if y’know what I mean. Diamonds are about realizin’ the big plans, makin’ shit happen.” He tapped the heavy thumb ring. “Spades? We’re the specialists.”

“Makes sense.”

“Aight then, let’s get yous where you’re goin’.” The Doorman stood and stretched, shoulders popping audibly. “Got the perfect spot in Brooklyn. I’d say grab a slice on the way out, but nothin’s gonna be open. What time is it there? Two, three in the mornin’?”

The Doorman interlaced his fingers and stretched them out, knuckles cracking. He held up his left hand dramatically, focusing. Then snapped his fingers.

A doorway appeared off to the side.

He walked over, turned the knob, and pulled the door open before turning back to Alexander. “VIP service, boss-man. Enjoy the shoppin’.”

Alexander stood. “Thank you.”

He stepped into the doorway, Droney and the other eight drones zipping ahead of him.

In the space between, Alexander drew on his powers. He cycled Electrokinesis into his Core, dispersing it throughout his body before concentrating the majority into his senses. Eyes. Ears. Nose. Proprioception. He didn’t quite understand how the last one worked. Spatial awareness was harder to define, but his Core responded to intent, transmitting power as directed.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Then he was through.

Alexander stopped on the other side, senses sharp. A quick sweep of Technopathy found cameras and motion sensors, and a single thought erased the alerts and shut the security systems down.

He was in a pizzeria, based on the lingering scents of baked dough, tomato sauce, and cheese. The dining area, more specifically. Tables and chairs arranged in neat rows. A counter with a glass display case.

It was dark, but his enhanced vision cut through the shadows easily.

Catching sight of a mirror behind the counter, Alexander rose into the air and floated across, landing in front of it. He leaned in and examined his features.

Lightning danced inside his eyes. Unlike what had occurred during the Solo Combat Challenge, the electricity remained contained within rather than erupting outward.

“Hmm,” Alexander muttered at his own reflection. He tilted his head back. Then turned his head to the side. “Shouldn’t lightning be shooting out of my ears and nose too, then?”

Droney beeped.

Alexander glanced up, then looked to the storefront. Two men staggered past the windows, singing in a way only drunk people could.

“They’re harmless, but you’re right.” He stood and made his way to the exit. “Let’s figure out where we are first.”

Alexander unlocked the door’s mechanical lock with Metallokinesis and stepped outside.

The city was alive despite the hour. Traffic moved steadily through the streets. People crossed intersections in groups, voices carrying through the night air. Bright signs marked clubs and bars still operating, their doors open to crowds spilling onto sidewalks.

The drones spread out in different directions, lifting high above street level.

He sensed the data feeding from them, Droney processing it in parallel. “Go wide, but keep them hidden.”

Droney beeped low in acknowledgment.

Alexander locked the pizzeria door, then took flight, quickly rising above the buildings before landing on a nearby rooftop.

Data streamed in from the drones as they spread across the city. Alexander pulled up the mental map Droney had compiled, cross-referencing street names and landmarks until the layout clicked into place.

He located the lawyer’s office first, recalling the address Carmen had provided. It would be closed at this hour, though. He’d need to wait until morning.

Which meant finding a room.

Droney marked hotels on the map, options scattered across the city.

Alexander dismissed most of them immediately. He could afford somewhere that wouldn’t get him murdered in his sleep. And there was no reason not to be comfortable. He settled on an upscale place a few blocks from the lawyer’s office.

But he wasn’t tired yet.

Alexander lifted off the rooftop, accelerating into the night sky. The drones followed, spreading out across the cityscape. He could feel Droney orchestrating them, directing their movements as they zipped down streets at rooftop level. The little drone pushed them hard, trying to position some ahead of Alexander’s flight path.

A smile tugged at Alexander’s mouth. He flew faster.

The drones struggled to keep pace. Alexander sensed something from Droney through their connection. A tinge of what he suspected might be annoyance from the little drone.

He raised an eyebrow at that. Droney was still growing, surprising him with flashes that felt like emotion. He wondered how far it might go. Whether it might develop into full sentience.

The city spread out beneath him. Music thumped from clubs, bass lines vibrating through the air even at this altitude. Crowds gathered on sidewalks outside bars, voices rising in laughter and argument. Steam rose from subway grates. Neon signs reflected off wet pavement where rain had fallen earlier. A taxi laid on its horn somewhere below. Glass shattered in an alley.

Alexander passed over it all, taking in the chaos and energy of a city that never quite slept.

His combined Hyperawareness and enhanced hearing picked up a scream.

Alexander banked immediately, angling toward the sound. He descended rapidly, finding an alley between two buildings. A woman sprawled on the ground, her handbag clutched in the hands of a man with a prosthetic leg who was already turning to run.

Alexander pointed a finger and spun it.

The man’s prosthetic leg jerked sideways. He spun with it, momentum carrying him around before his head cracked against the pavement. Then he rose into the air, hanging upside down as Alexander raised him with Metallokinesis.

Another thought pulled the handbag free. It dropped back into the woman’s lap.

She looked around, startled. But Alexander remained in the darkness above, invisible against the night sky.

The woman grabbed her bag, scrambled to her feet, and ran.

“The fuck? Let me down! Who the fuck are you?” The mugger thrashed in midair, voice rising. “Why you fucking with me?”

Alexander lifted him higher, bringing the man to eye level. Still upside down. He tilted his head, studying the mugger quietly while the man continued shouting.

The mugger swung at him.

Alexander’s cybernetic hand snapped up and caught the fist effortlessly. He leaned forward.

“Hey,” Alexander said. “Where do all the assholes hang out?”

“The fuck you mean?”

Alexander shook his head. “I mean, where does all the nighttime super action happen?”

The mugger stared at him, confused.

Alexander sighed. “Which part of the city can I find some hero-on-villain fights?”

Understanding dawned on the mugger’s face. “The Scar. Everyone knows that’s where the capes throw down.”

“Thank you.”

Alexander stared at him for a long moment.

The mugger shifted uncomfortably in midair. “You, uh… you gonna let me down now, man?”

Alexander considered his options. Killing the man over a mugging was obviously excessive. But letting him go meant he’d likely victimize someone else within the hour.

He groaned, frustrated. This was what happened when you involved yourself in things. You became responsible for what happened afterwards.

His gaze dropped to the street below, where traffic continued its steady flow. An idea formed.

Alexander reached out with Technopathy, seizing control of a parked hovercar. It jerked upward, rising toward them.

“The fuck you doing?” The mugger’s voice pitched higher.

The car pulled up alongside them. Its door opened. Alexander flicked a finger and hurled the mugger inside, then paused. With a twist of Metallokinesis, he removed the prosthetic leg and tossed it over his shoulder into the night.

The door sealed shut.

Alexander provided the car with a list of instructions. It would drive to the nearest police station, breaking the speed limit at every opportunity, running over a few stop signs and mailboxes, ignoring traffic lights. Horn blaring continuously. Hazard lights flashing. Slow down only when other drivers or pedestrians were at risk. Lock all doors and windows. Log a break-in and manual control override and keep the doors locked even after arrival.

The car shot off into the night, eager to comply, and already accelerating toward the first stop sign. The man’s panicked shouting faded as it went.

Alexander didn’t wait around to watch. He turned toward the Scar and took off.

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