Emerson was prepared for a lot of things in life since he posted that video. Most of all was the chance that someone big would decide to have him locked up for his little stunt, regardless of the legality at this point. Not like he could do anything to prevent it, especially if they want to throw money at their little “Omniglue Problem.”

  Since his interview with Mr. White, he’d become more cautious. He started counting the number of people who looked at him on the street whenever he went somewhere, and the number of times someone walks down the same corner he was turning on. He definitely started counting the number of police cars that went by his apartment block, even if that behavior wasn’t particularly surprising for someone in Emerson’s position.

  Was it paranoid? Absolutely, but he was far from the first villain to get grabbed on bogus charges because he looked at someone the wrong way. And Emerson had done far more than give a weird look.

  By the time he reached his home in the evening, he was completely exhausted. It took a solid thirty minutes for him to slowly go through the steps of making dinner-a large bowl of ramen-and then cleaning up when he as done eating it.

  I’m gonna have to get some more food on my next store trip...assuming I can pay rent this month.

  The knock on the door barely registered at first, muddled by his exhausted mind. After a couple seconds, he caught up, and in an instant his paranoia had returned with energy to match. He rushed over to the door, peeking through the slot before speaking. “Who is it? I’m not buying anything, and I’m definitely not going to open the door…”

  Through the door slot, he could see a blonde woman in a red suit, carrying a microphone. Behind her was a bored looking camera man, waiting for action and glancing at his watch. Before Emerson could react, she held the microphone up to the slot.

  “Hello! I’m Diana Pierrot from CCTV News, and I’m here to ask you some questions about your sudden fame! Is it alright if we come in?” Her expression was predatory, sharp in the way all reporters who smell the blood of their next big story are. The camera man, a kindred spirit perhaps, quietly gives Emerson a look from behind her.

  “Say no so I can go home”, his eyes seemed to say.

  These people could be undercover cops. At least a 70% chance for sure.

  Still, he gave them the benefit of the doubt when he responded. “You know what they say about letting random strangers into your house. You could be here to mug me or worse, and if you aren’t, you’re probably pulling an elaborate prank or luring me into a trap for the police.” He really didn’t like the pout that the self proclaimed Diana Pierrot gave him.

  “Aw, don’t be like that. We wanna hear about the good work you’re doing. What motivated you to post your video? Do you have any future plans to continue with them? What do your former associates think of it?” Her eyes were almost shining like a child’s.

  Oh, she is most definitely a cop. Okay Emerson, how are you gonna call her bluff?

  He thought about it for a moment, taking his time as the camera man his slow descent into boredom. From the other side of the door, Emerson’s hidden expression lit up as he had an idea. “You know...if you really are here with the news, you’d want to have given me a heads up wouldn’t you? And who does interviews spur of the moment in the person’s home? Something tells me you’re not officially supposed to be here, are you?”

  The flinch the woman gave told him everything he needed to know. “You don’t have permission to barge in here from your boss right? You could get into a lot of trouble for this. What are we gonna do about this...sticky situation, eh?”That might have been the most pathetic attempt at a glue pun I have ever made, and my early career had some wild contenders.

  He smiles wider when she starts to stutter, before he continued on. He couldn’t have her getting back momentum. “Look, the way I see it there are a few options. Option A is you leave and, if you’re a cop, you come back with a warrant to search the place. This will probably get you in trouble with your boss.”

  “Sir I don’t think that’s necessary. I already told you I’m a reporte-”

  He cut her off, putting on his “Villain holding up a bank” voice as he went. “Option B is I call the police and let them know what’s going on, in which case you definitely get in trouble, whether you’re a cop, a reporter, or anyone else without permission to be here.”

  The camera man chimed in quietly, putting a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “Diana, he’s right, we’re risking a lot at this rate.” At least one of them seemed to have some sense.

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Time to throw them the bone.

  Emerson was fairly certain Diana would do anything to avoid her boss getting angry at her at this point. Of course, she could be playing him like a fiddle, but there wasn’t anything he’d said so far that wasn’t true. If this was an elaborate trap, he hopefully wasn’t doing too bad at subverting it.

  “Option C, and this one is important, is that you go to your boss and tell them that I offered to come on. I do an interview at the news station, and you prove to me that not only are you trustworthy, but that you are a competent employee to your boss. Your choice.”

  There was a long pause, Diana and her camera man looking between each other, before she sighed and nodded. “I’ll...call my boss. Just, don’t tell anyone we were here.” Her expression wilted at Emerson’s quiet chuckle.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it. How does next Monday sound?”

  [BREAK]

  It was a short drive to Lighthouse, Commission City’s closest superhuman prison. It needed to be, in order for transported criminals to have as little time to escape as possible. Still, as Emerson walked through the visitation area’s doors and showed his ID, he couldn’t help but get nervous. He’d been a resident here until just a couple months ago, and though he’d rather be as far from this place as possible, he had a promise to uphold.

  Every three weeks, prisoners who behaved well were allowed to get visitors for an hour, with fifteen minutes per group. Thankfully, Emerson’s visit was to someone who was well behaved indeed. He sat down at the chess table, smiling as a massive man with a floating skull for a head settled across from him.

  “Its good to see you again Wood. How’s the outside treating you?” It was the first question Emerson’s former cellmate, the supervillain Skull-Mania, always asked him. He wasn’t allowed to say too much for security reasons, but the guards were fairly lax since the visitation rooms were lined with defense systems. Live ammunition being allowed also helped.

  “John, I’m gonna be real, its about the same as always. Well….” He paused. “Actually, things have gotten crazy this past week. I need some advice.”

  John chuckled, moving his knight piece forward. “I’m not sure why you’d want my advice. You’re the one they let out after all.” They both shared a laugh at that.

  Emerson shook his head, trying to gather his thoughts. “If not for you I would have never cleaned up my act in the first place, we both know that.” He frowned. “I may have done something extreme.”

  Once he was sure he had John’s attention, he continued. “You know how techies hide their best stuff instead of selling it? I got this idea in my head that I was doing the same with my formula and, well, I put everything in the public domain. Its out there now, for anyone to use.”

  There was a long bead of silence before Skull-Mania responded. “Emerson, that’s is extremely generous of you. I’m guessing you included the clean up methods and documentation?” When Emerson nodded, he continued. “Hm... This could be good, though I worry about you getting in trouble. How many people know you did this?”

  He was not ready for his friend’s next words, nearly falling out of his seat when Emerson casually said “About two hundred and thirty million at this point I think? I’m going to be on CCTV’s morning program on Monday to talk about it. Which is... what I wanted advice on.” He played idly with one of his pawns. “I don’t know what to talk about. I should probably play it safe, not get on anyone’s radar, but….”

  “But you could use this chance to push your ideas about sharing tech, and you’re not sure if you should or not.” John frowned, or as close as a floating skull could. “I think, personally, this is a perfect chance for you to go all in.”

  Emerson gave him a concerned look. “And if they decide to throw me back in here?”

  “If they do that after your talk on CCTV, everyone will know why they did it. Its a bad look for the police or whatever hero tries, and few people are stupid enough to act on their feelings knowing that. Besides.” He leans over the table a bit, poking Emerson in the chest, “what you’re feeling right now? That stress? That’s not just fear, its pressure to do the right thing. So own it, and help people understand why they might want to do the same.”

  He laughed, his glowing eyes sparkling with amusement. “The worst they can do is give you a roof over your head and a decent amount of meals in here, which might actually be better than the outside for you if you’re not selling your formula commercially.”

  Emerson couldn’t help but smile. He’d known John would probably say something similar to this, but hearing it himself helped ease his mind. “I see, thanks John, this… this helps a lot.”

  “Don’t mention it.” He halted, considering something. “Unrelated, but I have to ask. Has Carbon Knight given you an angry visit since you put everything online?” Emerson’s face must have betrayed his thoughts when John brought up their shared Heroic enemy, because the man laughed loudly before he could even answer.

  “Of course not! And I hope they never do! The last thing I need is waking up being held upside down in the middle of the night. In fact…” Emerson frowned slightly. “Actually, I haven’t heard or seen anything of them since I got out. Not even a threat of ‘I’m watching you, criminal,’ or the like.”

  Skull-Mania hummed. “That is… actually somewhat concerning. Maybe something happened to them while we’ve been in here.” He shrugged. “Or who knows, maybe they’re biding their time to sneak up on you when you finally relax!”

  Honestly, John thought it was funnier than it actually was, and he chuckled about it even as the guard alerted them that their time was up.

  Emerson stood, giving his friend a smile. “Take care of yourself John, and don’t let any of the other prisoners think you’re getting soft.”

  “The same goes for you. Those reporters are vicious.”

  After he left, Emerson felt lighter than he had in months. On Monday morning, he would be ready to try and change the world.