Louis had so many memories of Galactic Man — all the times he’d needed the Man’s help and gotten it.
That made him feel bad about what he was about to do. Or, at least, that made him feel bad about what he was supposed to do. Distracting a man as powerful as Galactic Man? It was no easy feat.
Louis took slow, deep breaths. He remembered this guy he’d seen take a polygraph. Called himself Parrot. Managed to lie his way through every test they threw at him. That didn’t matter much, of course, since they’d gotten a video recording of him shooting another guy. But they’d put him on the polygraph anyway, to see if they could figure out just how he managed to lie so well.
No one in the precinct ever figured it out.
Louis wished they had; it’d make lying to Galactic Man a little easier.
Sitting on a park bench in Virginia, looking out at the pond, Louis watched a speck fly towards him. At first it could’ve been anything, and Louis wasn’t sure it was Galactic Man. But the speck got bigger and bigger — more and more obviously human. The cape billowed in the wind as his muscular form came into view.
It’d been awhile since he’d seen Galactic Man, but that was to be expected. The man was surely too busy to have a friendly chat. The world had too many problems to be solved.
He strode across the grass, a serious look on his face. White boots and cape complemented the white fabric that covered his torso.
“You said you needed my help?” Galactic Man asked, referring to the brief conversation he’d had with Louis over the phone.
“Yeah,” Louis said, remembering the lines he’d rehearsed, remembering to keep his breathing as normal as possible. “Coyote broke out of jail. You know him better than anyone else, and I figured–”
Galactic Man cut him off. He heard the quickened beat of Louis’s heart, beats which were slower for Louis’s efforts, but not slow enough.
So Galactic Man asked, “Why are you lying to me, Louis?”