Woes of An Engineer

It took every ounce of Fabian Hausser's strength not to tear the newspaper into shreds.

On its cover was none other than a beaming Shockwave--superhero celebrity and Fabian's mortal enemy.

It sounded pathetic for a normal man to assert that a superhero was his worst enemy. It was equivalent to TV show viewers exclaiming that they hated a certain actor just because they could. Divided by a screen, unknown by the other. But it was true. There was no one in the world Fabian would rather see dead than Shockwave.

Shockwave did not know Fabian. He knew Fabian's boss, whom which he killed last week. It was cruel to say, but Fabian was more broken up over the state of his newest machinery that was meant to contain Shockwave than his boss's death. After the superhero was done with it, it was nothing more than hunks of metal and glass. At least Fabian could try and repair it. He couldn't say the same about his boss.

Ignoring the sight of Shockwave's stupid face, Fabian flipped over the newspaper and pulled a pencil from above his ear. The glass hadn't been thick enough. One scream, and Shockwave's powers penetrated it like a knife through butter. He needed to find something stronger, something more stable. Maybe a better activating agent? Oh--maybe something that threw Shockwave's screams right back at him. The superhero would recieve a taste of his own medicine for once.

"Whatcha working on there?"

Fabian flicked down the edge of his newspaper. He hadn't comprehended that the bus stopped and picked up new passengers. The cityscape was rushing by again--there was one less stop until he could get off.

Upon getting on the bus, he tended to tuck himself in the back right corner. That way, nosy people like the man sitting next to him couldn't look at what he was doing. Usually they weren't brave enough to ask verbally. Fabian had mastered the technique of resting bitch face.

"Crossword," he replied gruffly, shielding the equations on the newspaper.

"Ah, it was hard this morning, wasn't it?" the man said, adjusting his glasses. "I couldn't get fifteen-down."

"Right."

Out of biting curiosity, Fabian let his eyes go to the actual crossword in the bottom right corner. Next to number fifteen was the clue: Name of the supervillain defeated by Shockwave last week.

It was impossible he didn't know the answer. It was common knowledge. It was the only thing circulating the news right now. Fabian was expected to believe the man couldn't recall the villain's name? It sounded like he was being baited--but for a reason he couldn't understand.

It would make more sense if the man was from out of the city, but he was dressed like a commuter. Basic slacks, button-down shirt, and tie like every other miserable businessman to roam the street. His fingers were drumming across the tight leather of his briefcase; he occasionally stopped to brush blond hair out of his eyes.

"The answer is Dr. Dubious," Fabian found himself saying.

"Right!" The man's eyes lit up. "I knew it was doctor something. Hey," he tapped the back of Fabian's newspaper, "what do you think about Shockwave?"

"Superheroes are extremely overrated."

"You can't mean that."

"I can." Fabian frowned. "Look around. Don't you see all the damage Shockwave has caused?"

Coincidentally, the bus was driving past the site of a scuffle earlier this week. Some no-name terrorists tried to take out the local police station. The building was split open from the center, like a frozen splash of water. It was safe to say the terrorists weren't capable of such destruction.

"Where do you think our tax dollars are going?"

The man shook his head. "You're forgetting about the villains themselves! How much damage have they caused?"

"Easily not enough as Shockwave."

"What'd the guy ever do to you?"

"Your mighty hero is the reason I don't have a job anymore," Fabian snapped. "He destroyed the company I worked for."

He raised an eyebrow. "You worked for Telecon?"

"What's it to you?" Fabian wasn't going to get into the basics with a stranger, but letting him know how much danger Fabian was capable of would perhaps stop him from asking so many questions.

"How high up were you?"

"That's none of your business. How would you like it if I started asking random things about your job?"

"Go ahead. I have nothing to hide," he said modestly.

Fabian snorted. "Everyone has something to hide."

"That's a very guarded way to look at the world."

"That's what happens when you have to watch your back all the time."

"And you don't think Shockwave has to do that, too?"

"I never said that."

The man ran a hand through his hair again. "Have you ever thought about funneling this hate toward something useful?"

Like killing you in front of everyone on this bus? Fabian thought. Yes, yes I have.

"You're an engineer?" the man continued.

"Of a sort."

"How much did you really like your old boss?"

Fabian side-eyed him.

"Compared to Shockwave."

"Well for one, he didn't put me out of a job," Fabian responded flatly. "Why are you still talking to me?"

The man shrugged. "I might have a job for you, if you're interested."

Fabian scowled and held the newspaper to his chest.

"Except it might be a conflict of interest."

The man reached into his shirt pocket and produced a slim, white businesscard. He flicked it in Fabian's direction. Fabian took it hesitantly.

"Call me if you want in," said the man.

Then he got off the bus.

Fabian didn't dare to glance at the card until they were driving away from the stop.

Harrison Goldman, it read. Head Secretary of Shockwave Inc.

"For the love of god," muttered Fabian.

Despite his misery and annoyance, he found himself slipping the card into his pocket rather than crumbling it up.

He went back to scribbling on his newspaper. First, though, he filled out Dr. Dubious on the crossword.