Up or down? It was the same question Venessa Jackson had to ask herself every day. Down forty-two flights to the first floor, through the marble and bronze halls of the Sheltner Building main concourse. Past the many exclusive shops, through the high arching double door front entrance, past the red coated doorman and out onto Drucker Street where she was sure to find a cab waiting. Or up twenty-three flights to the Sheltner Building’s sixty-fifth floor and its vaulted glass and iron observation plaza where blue and gold Peregrine Transit dirigibles arrived and departed every fifteen minutes.

Through ornate leaded glass doors Venessa watched black cables serpentine up and down as they governed the ascension of her lift and the descent of its counter balance. A quick glance at the black iron dial atop the doors indicated that Venessa would have to decide soon. Up or down? On most days the decision would be down, but today was different.

Venessa stood alone. Usually there where would be dozens of weary executives encircling her, each crowding for a spot on their only means of escape from the administrative doldrums of conference calls and e-mail correspondences. It was well past her usual departure time of four-thirty. Despite the late hour she was feeling quite satisfied. Closing the Varney-Smuthers contract before Monday’s executive review far outweighed the extra time she’d spent at the office.

A single melodic chime reminded Venessa of the time. She looked to the walnut grandfather clock at the end of the hall, its large hand at XI, its small hand hovering dangerously close to IX. If she didn’t hurry the Fifth Pier Galleria would be closed before she was able to do a bit of celebratory shopping. Up it was. Before the grandfather clock on the forty-second floor struck its ninth harmonic claxon Venessa was airborne.

It had been a long time since Venessa had chosen up. She enjoyed reacquainting herself with the luxuriously upholstered dark wood and blue velvet seats of the air ship. The comforting sway of the PT dirigible and the wondrous Epic City lights below wooed her into a trance-like state as she slid across the downtown skyline. She made a mental note to do this more often. An evening shuttle by dirigible was a treat. The usual commuter rush was gone and window seats were plentiful. Moreover the scenery was breathtaking, assuming you were riding Peregrine or one of the other exclusive air ship transporters who owned high altitude rights over the downtown metropolitan area.

The Fifth Pier Galleria had several of its own air ship docking bays. Venessa was positive that Peregrine would have a private concourse near some of the more chic shops of the mall. No better place to start, she thought. Venessa began a mental stroll through Epic City’s largest bazaar. Her mind’s eye took her to Clowen’s, its latest ensembles proudly displayed upon dynamically posed mannequins of blond wood and brushed steel, each ensemble holding true to the new vertical lace neckpiece and double breasted trends that she loved so much. Her imagination put her into the new clothing, its lush fabrics cascading from her shoulders to the floor. She would have remained there, playfully window-shopping at the edge of her imagination if she had not seen something past the curtained plate glass window off her right shoulder. Smoke.

The Gordon Building was aflame! A quick reference through her mental rolodex was all it took for her to place the Gordon account. Thompson Fields was her company’s rep for that account. All thoughts of an amusing stroll through the Fifth Pier Galleria were dashed and replaced with dread when Venessa realized Thompson could loose his job if he were forced to pay in full against the Gordan insurance claim. Venessa really liked Thompson. He was one of the few people at the office who could carry on an intelligent conversation about something other than premiums and percentages. Without a second thought Venessa sprung into action.

Venessa vaulted from her seat and ran the length of the dirigible cabin to the glass doors of the cockpit. The few other passengers aboard her flight hadn’t notice the smoke billowing from the building below and were upset by her outburst. At the forward end of the passenger’s cabin, through glass doors and past gold trimmed blue velvet portieres she could see the pilot and co-pilot. Gathering herself she grimly rapped upon the doors. The co-pilot immediately met her. A quick exchange later and Venessa had convinced an unconventually considerate Peregrine crew to dash their schedule and dock their dirigible atop a nearby building.

Many of the other passengers disembarked with Venessa upon the Biltmoor Hotel, intrigued by the flames now shooting high into the air from the top ten stories of the forty story Gordon Building. Though the Gordon Building stood half a block away from the Biltmoor Venessa and the other Peregrine commuters could feel the waves of heat shed from its flames. Venessa was immediately on her cell phone calling Thompson. Unfortunately her plan to warn him of the Gordon tragedy was foiled by the droning of a pre-recorded answering device. With nothing else left to do Venessa stood in horror and watched as the flames ravished her friend’s investment.

Venessa’s view from her perch near the hotel’s rooftop swimming pool was perfect. She had clear sight of over half of the Gordon Building from the ground to its antennae strewn apex. She could see the emergency vehicles already on scene and the arrival of several more. Fire vehicles of all shapes and sizes were positioned about the building’s base. Strangely, though, the army they had brought with them were doing nothing to stem the angry flame’s increasing hunger. Not one official had heroically stepped into the building and no last minute survivors were being rescued.

It was just after a strange delivery truck labeled McKormic Foundation, led by an escort of police officers and fire officials arrived that Venessa remembered the video recorder she had tucked away in her coat pocket. She had used the recorder to document a car accident two days ago and forgot to return it to her administrator. She pulled the recorder out and brought into focus the disaster and the strange truck as it arrived. Her intent; to document the fire departments lackluster attempt to save the Gordon Building. She hoped her footage would exonerate Thompson of any liability and place the financial responsibility for damages to the Gordon Building squarely upon the state. As for what happened next… Venessa wouldn’t have believed her own eyes if not for the very real existence of the visual recording she personally authored.

Slowly the McKormic Foundation delivery truck came to a stop along side a city vehicle adorned with the Epic City Fire Chief emblem. As soon as the truck halted the double doors to its cargo space sprung open and a giant winged creature burst into the night sky, its black and white wings eerily highlighted with red by the roaring flames above. It… was a he, a man with long black hair and wings… real wings! He circled the truck like a vulture would road kill, awaiting the disembarkation of who or what remained inside.

One at a time they emerged. Second came a young black man wearing a gray sweat suit and a black baseball cap… backward. Other than his association with the winged creature (and the others to come) he was unremarkable. Another, suited in some sort of leather and iron flight gear who moved with incredible speed followed and passed the black man, rushing to the side of the Fire Chief’s auto. Then, finally, someone Venessa recognized stepped from the rear of the truck.
The Incredible Bouncing Boy was known to anyone who had ever perused the pages of The Sanguine News or Event Magazine. He was the stuff of tabloid celebrity. Jacob Eisner’s ability to contort and exaggerate his body had been covered by the Sanguine since his early childhood. It was one of Venessa’s favorite reads, though until that night she never truly believed in his existence. When the last member of the incredible quintet stepped from the rear of the vehicle Venessa swore she felt the vibration caused by his footfall. Despite the reality of Venessa’s sensation the recoil of the McKormic truck upon his disembarkation proved evidence of his incredible mass. It was not until the improbably heavy man had taken a few steps that Venessa realized who he was. Left behind by his tremendous footfalls were unmistakable impressions highlighted by the flames above. Societies Shield was real. Venessa nearly fainted.

With her mouth agape Venessa retained the presence of mind to keep the video recorder pointed at the quintet. There was a quick discussion between a person in a trench coat whom emerged from the Fire Chief’s auto. While the winged man circled above The Incredible Bouncing boy, Society’s Shield and the running pilot were speaking with the Epic City Fire Chief. The black man had busied himself plundering a nearby fire truck for coats and masks. Their preparations concluded the quintet sprang into action. After a quick exchange with the pilot the winged man soared toward the high-rise and began circling the building just below its fire-engulfed upper reaches. His flight was obviously hampered by the tremendous winds created by the inferno and Venessa worried that he’d be violently pulled into the building and break a wing. At the same time The Incredible Bouncing Boy and his backward hat-wearing companion hurried to requisition a nearby fire truck.

After only a few revolutions around the blazing building the winged man came to an awkward hover near a window on the third floor. His huge wings contorted and flayed as he tried to maintain stability. He seemed to be pointing at something inside the building. It was then, with grim determination that Society’s Shield sprang into action. Incredible leg strength launched his massive weight at the building just below the winged man. With an unimaginable crash he impacted the side of the building. Shards of brick, stone and glass along with the body of Society’s Shield rained down upon the sidewalk below scattering emergency crews and sire fighters alike. Venessa was awed. The strength possessed by Society’s Shield was unbelievable. Though he was unable to burst through the building’s superstructure and fell like a small bomb to the ground he seemed undeterred. He rose from the rubble and again launched himself at the building. There was a second thunderous crash and Society’s Shield found himself grounded once more.

Venessa couldn’t conceive of why Society’s Shield would attack the Gordon Building so ruthlessly. But there had to be a reason for not moments after he fell the speedster also launched himself at the building. For a third time the wall sustained considerable damage. The pilot’s incredible velocity had compensated for his normal strength. Venessa thought he’d killed himself by plunging headfirst into the stone wall. He fell like a limp sack of potatoes, but safely into the waiting arms of Society’s Shield instead of upon the hard pavement below. Shaken, but not deterred, the speedster realigned himself to again leap at the building. In a blur the pilot hurled himself skyward. This time, though, he had a new plan and burst through a window to the right of the bird-man. Venessa assumed the attack on the building’s exterior was complete.  Reinforcing her suspicions, Society’s Shield turned and strode heroically through the Gordon Building’s main entrance and into the unknown dangers beyond. As a cheer went up from the gathering crowds Venessa said a silent thank you to the fates for her forgetfulness. Her video recorder would be the answer to Thompson’s prayers.

Venessa then heard the notorious beep made of a large vehicle moving in reverse peal above the riotous chaos below. The Incredible Bouncing Boy was directing a fire crew to position their fire truck below the hole caused by the running pilot. With the fire truck in position The Incredible Bouncing Boy and his sidekick, the young black man, clambered on top. Once atop the truck The Incredible Bouncing Boy performed a miraculous feat. His brow creased with resolve, he stretched his limbs to bridge the three-story gap between the open window and the fire truck. He remained extended until his sidekick was able to scramble over his body into the window above. Then, once his friend was safe The Incredible Bouncing Boy contracted his limbs and pulled himself up. The winged man followed them through the window. Unfortunately his gigantic black wings filled the window and obscured any chance of recording what went on inside. Venessa took a moment and lowered the recorder. History, she thought. I’m witnessing history unfold.

“Its arson and there’s hostages still inside!” One of the Peregrine commuters held a small transistor radio to his ear and was relaying what he heard. Venessa realized that the Fire Department hadn’t rushed into the burning Gordon Building out of prudence rather than laxity. Thompson was behind the eightball again. Venessa kept recording though. Her video had become more significant than the simple insurance chronicle for which it was originally intended. For long moments nothing seemed to happen. All members of the incredible quintet were inside the building. Then, suddenly, the winged man burst from the gaping window. In his arms was a swaddled mass issuing streams of choking smoke. His huge wings thrust him through the night sky at incredible speed. Past the emergency crew’s spotlights he flew, disappearing into darkness. Like that, the bird-man was gone. For long moments there was no sign of the others.

Venessa lowered her recorder for the second time to get a better look at the entire scene. The fires atop the Gordon Building had grown in size and now consumed the top twelve floors in a hellish fury. Emergency crews on the ground seemed paralyzed as they awaited the reappearance of the four strange beings valiantly working inside.  Four gleaming red Fire Department dirigibles had arrived and battled the flames from above. The skill of their pilots was apparent as they defied common sense and hovered near the lick of the flames, on the edge of a smoky deluge. The pulsers of their air ships whined in protest as they continuously corrected for dangerously shifting wind currents.

Surreal was the only word Venessa could come up with to describe what was unfolding before her. The intense light shed by the huge flames above seemed to make the city recede. Behind the fire and spotlights there was only blackness, as if the Gordon Building was the only structure within miles. As she inspected the dark skies she spotted something. It was the winged man; unburdened and returning with as much speed as when he left. Quickly Venessa brought her video camera to bear. She was able to focus on the winged man just as he reached the Gordon Building. He circled the building several times as if to survey any changes since his departure. Then having spotted whatever it was he was looking for the winged man he came to a halting mid-air stop. He flapped his wings and increased the distance between himself and an area of the building just above the section damaged by the speedy pilot and Society’s Shield. He hung there in mid air for a moment or two. Then, with a tremendous surge from his wings he sped directly towards the cracked and crumbling façade.

Venessa recorded the image of the bird-man’s impact long before she felt or heard the tremendous crash. One moment the winged man was there, miraculously floating in mid air. The next he was gone, replaced by a plume of dust and debris. Venessa realized that such an impact would have been fatal if not for the collateral damage to the area caused earlier. She was awed by the quintet’s preparation.

Venessa kept her video recorder trained on the gaping hole created by the winged man hoping to see something else, but for naught. As the dust from the impact settled to the ground the hole remained empty. Soon, though, she noticed a stream of wet and frightened hostages escaping from the building’s front entrance. Emergency crews immediately attended to each, supplying blankets, oxygen and medical care where needed. Not long after the last hostage was accounted for four of the five miraculous beings exited the building. With them, bound in the malleable arms of The Incredible Bouncing Boy was a man who could only be described as conscious but catatonic. The whites of his eyes were evident even from Venessa’s vantagepoint and spittle dripped from his open mouth. Quickly he was remanded over to law enforcement authorities on the scene.

Though they appeared victorious and were mobbed by appreciative hostages and news reporters alike, the four refused to revel in their success. Numbly they moved toward the McKormic Foundation delivery truck. Only Society’s Shield made any effort to quell curiosity and had a quick word with fire officials. Soon he too was boarding the truck. Then Venessa noticed the fifth hero leaving the building. It was the young black man. At first glance he appeared injured, burnt by the fires raging within the building. His clothing was all but seared from his body and wisps of smoke trailed behind him. Fire fighters felt similarly and rushed to help as he strolled from the building. He pushed them away roughly, refusing any aid other than a blanket, and strode to join his comrades in their truck.

Once the quintet was together again they secured the rear doors of their McKormic Foundation delivery truck and sped off to whence they came, hounded all the way by an entourage of media vehicles.

Venessa lowered her video recorder slowly, still reeling from the impact of what she had just witnessed. One look around the Biltmoor Hotel rooftop was all she needed to know that she hadn’t imagined things. All of her Peregrine co-passengers stood silent, mouths agape and eyes fixed on the departing delivery truck. Only the chirp of one man’s transistor radio broke the rooftop silence. Eventually her senses returned. As she made her way to the hotel’s poolside lift Venessa Jackson hesitated and scanned the sparkling night horizon. For long moments she absorbed the beautiful city around her, all the while wondering if things in Epic City would ever be the same again.