Archenemies (Renegades #2)(37)

“So, what do you do here?” asked Nova, once Callum had finished telling her about the fifteenth-century prodigy who had single-handedly defended an entire village from raiding conquerors using nothing but his powers of flora manipulation and a branch taken from a willow tree. (The branch could be found two aisles over.) “Prodigy historian?”

“Might as well be,” he said, chuckling. “But no. I mostly do cataloging, cleaning, researching, sorting, filing … whatever Snapshot needs done.”

“I’d like to help with all of that,” Nova said, working up her enthusiasm. “I’m really fascinated by this stuff and I want to learn as much as I can. Snapshot said I’d start working the checkout counter, but eventually I’d like to do more back here. Cataloging, cleaning … I can do it all.”

“That sounds great,” said Callum, clapping his hands together. “Manning the checkout counter can get tedious. Except, sometimes, a Renegade might not know exactly what they’re looking for, or what weapons are going to suit their specific abilities, and then we get to help them figure out the best options, and that can be really cool, too. You learn a lot about the superheroes we have here.” His eyes shone as he gestured at Nova. “I’m glad you like artifacts, too, because it could seem a little slow down here after being on patrols, and ambushing the Librarian, and fighting the Detonator, and everything you’ve done. This is going to be a much more laid-back experience, though also really fulfilling.”

“That sounds perfect.”

“Cool.” Callum lifted his thumb back toward the reception area. “Let’s get you settled in, and maybe see what sort of stuff Magpie brought us.”

“Wait,” said Nova, scanning the back wall of the vault. “What’s down there?”

“Ah, that’s the restricted collection.”

Nova’s nerves hummed. “Restricted, how?”

“As in, not available to be checked out.” Callum tucked his hands into his pockets. “Want to see?”

Nova spun back to him. “That’s allowed?”

“Oh yeah. We can’t loan this stuff out, but we still have to come back and dust it from time to time. Come on.” He led her into the last aisle.

The shelves were sparser than the rest of the vault. Heart drumming, Nova scanned the objects as Callum started rambling on about the destructive qualities of Fury Fire, and how Dark Matter’s ring could theoretically blow up the moon if put in the wrong hands, and how a prophetic pair of goggles had already caused more trouble than they were worth.

“This is … amazing,” said Nova, and she meant it. “But why isn’t all this under more security? So far I’ve just seen you, and Snapshot, and two locked doors, and”—she gestured at a camera on the ceiling—“a handful of security cameras. Where are the laser barricades? The motion triggers? The armed guards?”

“Please. We’re in Renegade Headquarters.” He spread his arms wide. “Who would try to break in here?”

She gawked at him. “Really? That’s…”

Arrogant, she wanted to say. Asinine. Completely, unrealistically overconfident.

But she reeled in her thoughts just in time. “Uh … right,” she stammered. “That’s right. Renegade HQ.” She laughed awkwardly. “Who would ever try to break in here?”

“And given that the vast majority of objects are available for rent—” Callum shrugged. “There’s no need for the added protection. The folks up in the security center keep a close enough eye on us down here.” He saluted the camera.

“I’m sure they do,” said Nova, meandering away from him. She ran her fingers over the shelves that, frankly, didn’t seem to have been dusted in recent history.

But there was no sign of Ace’s helmet.

Her shoulders drooped.

“Is the restricted section not meeting expectations?”

She spun around. Callum was watching her, holding a pair of antique aviator goggles in one hand. “Prophetic goggles,” he said emphatically. “Come on. How can that be disappointing?”

“Sorry,” said Nova. “I was just…” Inhaling a sharp breath, she confessed, “I heard a rumor that Ace Anarchy’s helmet was in here. I thought it would be cool to see it in person. And not, you know, on the Captain’s pike half a block away.”

“Oh,” said Callum, setting down the goggles. “That’s a replica, actually. The one he carries around at the parade? Total fake. The real one’s down here, but if you weren’t impressed by the goggles, you are going to be really disappointed by the helmet.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll show you.” He breezed past her.

Nova’s eyes widened. It could not be that easy.

Halfway down the aisle, Callum paused in front of a metal cube sitting on a shelf. “Ta-da,” he said, thumping its top. The cube was roughly the size of a small microwave. “I give you Ace Anarchy’s helmet.”

Nova stared, horror and denial creeping into her thoughts. “I don’t understand.”

“Well, after the Battle for Gatlon,” said Callum, leaning his elbow on the shelf as he prepared to go into another history spiel, “the Council tried to destroy the helmet, but were unsuccessful. So to keep it from falling into the wrong hands again, Captain Chromium made an indestructible chromium box to hold the helmet for the rest of time. And here she lies. Protected. Secure. Completely inaccessible.” He patted the cube again. “And I get it. I mean, it caused so much destruction and that kind of power shouldn’t be made available to anyone, you know? But at the same time, the historian in me is a little sad that such an important relic is going to sit here, unable to be seen or studied, forever.”