Shades of Gray - By Jackie Kessler & Caitlin Kittredge Page 0,44
the main room, Garth hears the Brewer kids playing some game or another, even through the closed door. “After a long day of entertaining our guests and replacing the door, I’m ready for some escapism.”
On screen, Gena Mead announces that doctors are reporting a new disorder that’s running rampant in Looptown and its borders. “People are just staring into space, completely unresponsive to the world around them,” Gena says grimly.
Julie snorts. “See, when I think escape, I think piña coladas, not new diseases on our doorstep.” She frowns at the screen. “More Gena Mead? I swear, you’ve got the hots for her …”
“Hey now, you’re the only one for me. Just wanted the news, is all.”
“Oh goody. Then you won’t mind if I make a switch.”
Julie blinks, and Gena’s serious face is replaced with that of Tom Carlin from the News Network’s Spin Room. The pissed-off comedian-turned-commentator is railing about how the Squadron needs to get religion.
Garth runs his fingers through his own auburn mop. At least, he assumes it’s auburn; to him, his hair always looks brighter than it really is, even through his sunglasses. But then, to him, everything looks brighter.
He’s mulling over colors when something Tom Carlin says catches his attention.
“And if you watched today’s Jack Goldwater Show, you probably have your own Get Out of Confession Free card.” Tom’s eyes sparkle with humor. “Nothing like watching so-called holy men slinging mud. Better that than throwing stones, eh?”
The image cut to a clip from Goldwater—the host himself, seated across from a priest, a rabbi, and an imam on a sofa. Sounds like the start of a bad joke, Garth thinks. On the clip, Goldwater asks them if the extrahuman heroes’ going insane is a sign that the End Times are here.
The rabbi, identified in scrolling text below as Rabbi Jonathan Cohn of the Third Temple, says, “Well, Jack, some of the signs of the end of everything include the truth being in short supply, wise people being scarce, and inflation soaring.” He laughs. “If you go by that, the End Times have been approaching since, oh, the early twenty-first century.”
“I think many people are understandably jumping to conclusions,” says the priest. “What’s happening now is certainly upsetting—”
“And dangerous,” adds the imam.
“—but it’s probably more likely to be the work of a supervillain, or even post-traumatic stress disorder, than a sign of Armageddon approaching.”
“What’s happening today is very sad indeed,” says Rabbi Cohn. “But it’s not like these heroes have declared themselves deities.”
“Or Christo,” says the priest.
“Or are trying to take over the world,” adds Goldwater cheerfully. “Oh, wait. Some of them are. Whoops.” The audience finds this quite funny.
“When deeds speak,” the imam says over the laughter, “words are nothing. Whatever the cause, the effect is the same. The Squadron is dangerous.”
The rabbi looks pained. “Something happened,” he agrees, “but I have every faith that Corp-Co is working with the Squadron to fix it.”
“Corp-Co?” Goldwater says. “You mean the same folks who run the superheroes in the first place? The same Corp-Co that’s refusing to issue a statement other than ‘no comment’? That Corp-Co?”
“The very same.”
The imam waves a dismissive hand. “Some things are so broken, they cannot be fixed.”
The rabbi insists, “The Squadron’s not broken—”
“But they are,” the priest says gently. “Something happened to the Squadron. And until it is resolved, we are all in grave danger. This isn’t the End Times,” he says to Goldwater, “but it is a very serious situation.”
The clip ends, and Tom Carlin is shaking his head at the camera. “‘Serious,’ he says. A root canal is serious. What’s happening with the junked-up Squadron is a catastrophe! Corp-Co’s not saying boo about it. Maybe their lawyers have counseled them to slink under a rock while they figure out legally how to make the Squadron’s rampages not stick to them. Meanwhile, some people are talking about doing more than just talking about it.”
Another clip, this one of Frank Wurtham, chairman of the Everyman Society, according to the text. Garth doesn’t need the reminder of who the man is—besides, the text should ID him as “Raving Loon” instead of “Chairman.” But whatever.
“We cannot depend on the authorities to take down these freaks of nature,” Wurtham rants. “We must rise up, every man and woman and child, and we must fight back, with everything we have—”
A crash from the living room.
Over the sound of Wurtham’s monologue, Garth calls