Read Online In Hero Years... I'm Dead Delux Edition by Michael Stackpole - Free Book Online Page B

called in some favors and got you some private treatment.”
    My head sank further back into the pillow. “I’m sure that made sense.”
    “But not to you?” She sighed. “The world’s changed a lot. You know about Grant.”
    “I saw.”
    “Word got out that Graviton was hurt badly. To fight it, Graviton recorded a message–you can see it in the Hall of Fame or find it on YouTube–saying he and L’Angyle had been called to her home dimension to preserve her kingdom. Real white knight stuff. It sold a lot of commemorative plates. Funds her work.”
    “They’ve never returned?”
    “Gravé and Andromeda sometimes relay messages–time moves slower there, the battle continues, another plate comes out. They’ve never come back. Never will. And it’s a good thing.”
    “How is it good that the world lost its greatest heroes?”
    “I could explain it, but you’d never believe.” She grabbed me beneath the armpits and shifted me into a sitting position. I marveled at her strength. It hurt like sin but I didn’t so much as groan. “Open your eyes.”
    I complied, cautiously. Hell, even that hurt.
    She’d left the bed and reached a hand behind the flat panel on the wall. Something beeped. A Murdoch began to glow. She tossed a remote control beside me.
    “Watch. Any channel, doesn’t matter. I recommend BCN and Superbio. Couple others are good. FHC will amuse. Anything else, you’ll have news on the quarters, specials when things are visual, and ticker at the bottom.”
    “Beer and chips, too?”
    Selene folded her arms and glared. “I wasn’t joking when I said you almost died. I’ve got pictures. Over a hundred fifty stitches from glass, serious abrasions from hitting the wall and I lost count of individual bruises from boots, fists and the odd stick. You pissed blood for three days. Doctors thought that was a miracle, since they figured you had about a pint left in you. Grant didn’t see any broken bones. You could have spent an hour in a cement mixer full of bowling balls and come out with less soft-tissue damage. It was touch and go. And for a while, go was the smart bet.”
    I started to speak, but she held up a hand. “No, no posturing. None of this, ‘they haven’t made the bullet yet,’ or ‘I’m too mean to die.’ That macho crap might make Zomboyz wet themselves, but it’s never stopped a bullet or closed a wound.”
    “Selene, old habits die hard.”
    “Old habits will kill you if you don’t let them die. But you’re not going to be one to let them die, are you?” She pointed at the Murdoch. “Watch. Watch and learn. The world you abandoned has changed. Learn it for yourself. This is no place for your old habits.”

    I watched. Hours on end, I watched.
    BCN was the Battle Classics Network. Twenty-four hours a day of footage of hero and villain battles. The morning line-up included a series of “Greatest” battles, then shifted to “First Time” fights. A lot of those had an amateur video quality, showing young heroes who desperately tried to keep the fight in frame. Some had friends shooting the video, and a few intercut footage from nearby security cameras. After that came group battles, vendettas and a feature on up-and-coming heroes. They even had a two hour block that featured villains.
    Superbio provided the stories of the world’s hottest heroes. Exploitative and dwelling on relationships and scandals, it had a compelling formula. They showed just enough for you to like the hero, then fear for him, feel for her and ultimately made them dreamy enough that fans could swoon.
    But before they did that–every twelve minutes–viewers got the chance to buy official logo-wear and other items. The Graviton collector plates did look nice. Might have been the drugs, but I’d have bought.
    Then there was the text-slither at the bottom of the screen. A hero’s name would come across followed by a string of numbers and letters. The teaser promised full details at FHC, which