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One year and six months ago.
Jimmy is the one who asks for the meeting, soon after A.I.M. is rebranded as Avengers Idea Mechanics. His request is granted, and at the given date and time he arrives at the top floor of one of Da Costa International’s fancier office buildings. The far wall is made entirely of glass; the chair behind the desk is turned toward the sunlight.
There’s a contented sigh. The chair turns. “James Woo, right? A pleasure to meet you. I’m Roberto Da Costa.”
All the intel agrees that Mr. Da Costa is attractive. In person, he is beautiful. The sun shines on his curls like a blessing. His dark brown eyes seem to take in everything and judge nothing.
His voice is so warm and inviting that Jimmy almost misses what he says next: “Allow me to apologize for everything Wolverine has ever done to you and yours. I don’t mind if M-11 wants to blast him some more, though.”
Jimmy smiles. This could be fun.
*
One year and two months ago.
After that first meeting, one thing is clear: Jimmy is not going to call him Bob. Not that there was much danger of that in the first place; nobody calls Roberto “Bob.” They call him Bobby, or Berto, or Beto. Jimmy hears each of these nicknames because Roberto always seems to be on the phone right before their meetings. Someone else might feel guilty about eavesdropping, but Jimmy gets the feeling that he’s meant to overhear.
“Oh, hey, Sam, my next meeting’s here. Jimmy, meet Sam Guthrie: my best friend, leader of X-Force, the unstoppable Cannonball!”
From the other side of a holographic call, Sam waves hello. He looks the same as his Avengers file shows, which is to be expected considering the file is relatively recent. He’s got a bright smile.
“Nice to meet ya. Sorry I can’t stay longer. Call me when you need me, Bobby – goodbye now!”
Other callers include Dani Moonstar (“The fearless leader of the New Mutants”), Dr. Toni Ho (“Leader of our science wing. She’s brilliant”), and a redheaded woman introduced as Nina Da Costa.
“She’s my mother,” Bobby says.
“A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Da Costa.” He gives her his most charming smile. “Your son is an amazing man.”
*
Eleven months ago.
They’re in the penthouse of a luxury hotel owned by the Atlas Foundation. It’s not Jimmy’s usual choice when he wants to impress someone, but he figures Roberto appreciates nice things.
Roberto sits across from him and makes himself comfortable. He hums appreciatively. It seems Jimmy figured correctly.
They talk about synchronicity.
It’s one of the tricky things about doing what they do: what should be mere coincidence almost never actually is. Certain phrases get repeated like motifs in a symphony, building to a crescendo and then crashing, and it’s usually a disaster for everyone involved.
(“Magic is made of symbols. It reveals its presence in them,” Venus said once, when they were in the middle of a storm in the Pacific Ocean. “Words are symbolic. There’s power in them.”
Namora nodded at that, teased “So that’s why you use lyrics all the time?” and jumped off the ship to fight the monster causing the waves.)
Things are calm right now, but the coincidences are building. The king in black. The empire. The war of the realms. Atlas has a lot to prepare for.
Another coincidence: Jimmy runs a school for gifted youngsters. His friend has some loud opinions about that.
“Look, as someone who went to one of those schools and survived the experience, I have to give you advice.”
“Of course. I’d be happy to hear it.”
Roberto sticks up his index finger. “First, never treat any of your kids like you’re concerned they’re going to turn evil. No matter who their parents are or what circumstances they came from. Seriously, it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy. Second, trauma is going to make those kids trust each other more than they trust any adults. They’ll look to the older kids for leadership. You have to support those kids the most. Third…”
Jimmy has had moments of temporal shock before, that surprise that comes from seeing how different things are now than they were when he was young. It’s not often he’s surprised by how different things are now than they were when someone else was young.
He’s not an expert on mutant history, but he’s read enough to be familiar with it. The New Mutants were Charles Xavier’s second class, right after the original X-Men. When Roberto was a teenager, the school was basically a mutant Red Room. The headmasters after Xavier attempted reforms several times, but trauma never quite left.
“…that’s all I can think of off the top of my head. I’m sure I’ll remember some more later. I’ll have my people send you notes.”
Finishing with his presentation, Roberto leans back. Now, it’s Jimmy who reaches out. He covers Roberto’s hand with his own (that’s another gesture he couldn’t perform in the fifties). Roberto looks up at him in mild confusion but doesn’t pull away.
Jimmy opens his mouth to say – what? “Things are better for superpowered kids now”? “You didn’t deserve what happened to you”? “Professor Xavier is a jerk”?
None of it sounds quite right for the situation.
What he ends up saying is, “I’m glad you survived.”
*
Ten months ago.
Roberto lives in a mansion in Búzios. He calls it a safe house, which is true in the sense that every house is a safe house if nobody is looking for it. He says he doesn’t go down to the beach anymore, but there’s a balcony with more square feet than most New York apartments and he makes full use of it.
He invites Jimmy and Jimmy accepts, even as he senses there’s something different about this meeting. He is not being invited into an office building or a neutral space; this is Roberto’s home. This is… intimate. Like a “let’s talk about our relationship” kind of intimate.
And sure enough, they do talk about their relationship. Sort of.
“I am not a good person,” Roberto confesses in a quiet voice. “I’m self-absorbed. I’m manipulative. I think of heroics as cost and benefit instead of just how to help people. You should know all of that, before you spend too much time with me.”
Interesting, that. For all the cynicism in the modern world, the heroes who grew up in it seem to share a strange idealistic mindset. They believe they should strive for selfless service, and even when they personally don’t follow that ideal, they still believe everyone around them does. How often do the Avengers fight about moral compromise? A lot more than the Agents of Atlas ever did.
It’s probably good for superhero culture that there’s a general idea of What A Hero Should Be Like. Jimmy has his own ideas, though.
He smiles. “Roberto, I run a semi-secret society that was designed for world domination. I’ve declared war on the United States government. I think in terms of cost and benefit, too. If you’re afraid that I’m going to abandon you in horror now that you’ve bared your soul to me, well… I’m not going to. You have my word on that.”
*
Nine months ago.
Roberto says he feels out of the loop. Absently, Jimmy thinks of how lucky Atlas is to have a telepath like Bob Grayson, how easily Bob could loop Roberto into everything the Agents of Atlas are doing now. But this isn’t about the Agents of Atlas. This is something new. Something exciting. Something he and his people and Roberto and his people could discover — together.
From the other side of the holographic call, he raises a glass and asks to be let in.
*
Eight months ago.
Uranian medicine is advanced, even compared to everything Earth’s superhuman community has come up with. Bob is more than willing to attempt to create a treatment for M-Pox.
It’s almost funny. Because of Bob’s help, Jimmy is somewhere around twenty-seven years old. Roberto should be twenty-seven based on his year of birth, but the M-Pox and a life of superheroics have blasted him out of his youth. That can’t be reversed; Bob doesn’t have an image of what he was like before. The most they can hope for is to cure the illness and let him recover the way normal people do.
Jimmy spends a lot of time in Búzios now. He doesn’t sleep in the mansion: he’s been invited to stay overnight, but to do so seems… risky. Atlas has enemies, after all. No, he has a more traditional safe house for sleeping. During the day, he helps with treatment.
“I am so weak, I cannot stand. I feel as though every bone in my body is going to collapse,” Roberto says, grabbing onto him for support. It’s a feigned weakness – no, it is the appearance of feigned weakness. A double negative. He is weak, and he wants assistance, but he cannot allow himself to ask directly.
Jimmy understands. He holds him up, allows him to rest, and asks, “Would you feel better if we sat on the balcony?”
“Yes, I wo—” The answer is cut off by a coughing fit.
*
Seven months and three weeks ago.
The Atlas Foundation’s official M-Pox Treatment is more than infusions and scans. Granted, the infusions and scans are most of it, but Jimmy knows his patient needs to feel connected to the outside world. Roberto found something to put his brilliant mind towards when he noticed the Eternity Mask. He spends his days doing research, as much as it can be called “research” when he’s mostly housebound. As part of Atlas’ M-Pox Treatment, Jimmy keeps him company.
They spend most of their time in comfortable silence, occasionally discussing their research. Sometimes, usually in the late afternoon, those discussions move away from the Eternity Mask and toward their personal histories, their personal lives. The sun paints the sky red, purple, grey, blue. The waves crash on the shore below them. For a while, they are not secret masterminds. For a while, they are only friends.
It’s during one such afternoon when Jimmy finds himself asking, “Why did you send Sam away?”
“I didn’t send him away,” Roberto answers softly, not looking up from his tablet. “I sent him home. To his wife and kid.”
That sounds like a reasonable answer. It’s not the whole story, though. Jimmy knows this because he knows Roberto like he knows himself. They’re masterminds, skilled with secrets and deception. Often, concealing the truth is even fun. But that constant performance makes honesty feel like a vulnerability, even toward people they trust. Jimmy trusts Roberto. He thought Roberto trusted him, too, but at this moment he is having doubts.
Roberto looks up. “Do you know what black lung is?”
It sounds familiar. He can guess. He doesn’t know for sure.
“It’s a disease that coal miners get. Years of breathing in the dust taking a toll, and all that. You cough yourself to death.” He shrugs. “Sam’s dad died from it. I didn’t want him to see me go the same way.”
Something about the way he says it seems so… sad. Like he’s accepted the inevitable.
In another world, maybe they would be preparing for the end. In this world, there are thousands of ways to fight off death. Willpower. Skill. Love. A well-aimed punch at the right cosmic being.
“You’re not going to die of this.”
And as though Death herself is mocking them, Roberto starts to cough.
When he catches his breath, he smiles. “Don’t worry about me. I’m a New Mutant – we don’t stay dead for long.”
*
Six months ago.
Jimmy calls Roberto on his missions. Jimmy calls him “Roberto” on his missions, because they’re both so powerful that it doesn’t really matter if anyone knows Jimmy Woo and Roberto Da Costa are close.
This call is audio-only, but that’s fine. They talk about the Eternity Mask, about what Ken and Namora and the others have found out. The mask is a key. It’s a motif in stories going back centuries. It’s a story in itself, and that gives it power.
He talks through his reasoning, linking the mask’s wearers to superheroes. Why did the Eternity Mask get lost to history when heroes like Captain America were carefully recorded? Was its history purposefully hidden, and if so, why? Prejudice? Magic? Was the Mask hiding itself? And what about the Three X’s?
It’s a mystery that needs to be solved. Jimmy hopes they can do it before Roberto — no. They’ll solve it when they solve it, and there isn’t a time limit because Roberto is not going to die.
*
Five months ago.
“I think I want to go back in the field,” Roberto says.
He’s been making progress in his treatment; Jimmy can’t argue with that. The arguments that do spring to mind have more to do with why. Why him? Why this? He can do so much good from behind the scenes, continuing like he has been. Surely the mutant community needs supporters in finance and industry just as much as it needs superheroes. Besides, the X-Men don’t appreciate him anyway.
But if Roberto wants to go back into the field, nothing can stop him.
So Jimmy says, “You’re well enough that you can do that. If you want.”
“There’s one thing, though. If I can ask you a favor?”
“Of course.”
“If anything happens to me, there are a couple of people that I need you to care for. Protection, financial support, that kind of thing.”
“Oh?” That’s interesting. There are people that Roberto doesn’t trust the X-Men with — but he’ll trust Jimmy with them?
“Old friends. Their names are Chance and Gomi. I’ll send you their addresses. They’re not in the superhero game, so I don’t want to ask the X-Men to take them in, so…”
“I understand. I promise, if anything happens to you, I’ll help them.” He types a note and sends a message to his agents. “But don’t let anything happen to you.”
*
Three months ago.
It’s Ken who tells him Roberto is dead.
It happened during the War of the Realms. He went to meet up with the New Mutants, and he died to protect them.
Jimmy only half-hears the rest of it, how the news traveled from Dani to Scott to Rogue and then to the Avengers. (Three X’s. Synchronicity. Does Sam know?)
If Jimmy hadn’t asked Atlas to come up with a treatment, Roberto would still be in one of his safe houses, too weak to go dying in heroic glory.
No, he would just be dying of M-Pox instead. Is a quick death better than a slow one? Is that how Roberto wanted to die?
Ken says, “I’m sorry.”
“He was a good man. We should…” Jimmy stops himself there, shaking his head. “The Atlas Foundation will do something to honor him.”
He reaches out to Dani to offer his condolences. He visits the addresses Roberto gave him.
Gomi takes the news solemnly. Chance cries.
James cries, too.
For a while, he tries not to think about eternity.
*
Two months ago.
All the parts of mutant culture that Roberto showed him were colorful, bright – acoustikinetic music, superpowered soccer, the argot of the New Mutants. For some reason, Jimmy thought this would extend to mutant funerals, too.
It does not. The funeral is quiet and dark. Everyone is crowded together, everyone is on guard, and all Jimmy can think is Roberto would have hated this.
The Agents of Atlas are here with the former Avengers Idea Mechanics team. They keep looking at each other with questioning glances. Jimmy can guess what they’re thinking. Bobby can’t be dead. He faked his death before, didn’t he? Who’s to say he hasn’t done it again? After all, Dani said there wasn’t a body to bury.
Dani steps forward to give her eulogy. She wipes her face and clears her throat. It becomes clear that as far as the New Mutants are concerned, Roberto’s death was very real.
*
One month ago.
Getting involved openly could backfire, giving the foundation’s past, but Atlas helps the mutant cause where it can. There is a gate to Pan. The agents help mutants travel safely in hostile territory. Jimmy pays attention to what the Krakoans are doing.
There are reports of activity at Da Costa International. Someone claiming to be Roberto signs over a lot of money to the new X Corp and then promptly disappears. It’s probably an imposter, but something prevents Jimmy from intervening. Doubt, maybe. Hope. After all, Roberto has always been loyal to the mutant community. He’s generous, too. If he’s alive, this is exactly the kind of thing he’d do.
If he’s alive.
*
One week ago.
Night Thrasher brought him to the Blue Marvel to continue the investigation. That’s a good thing, probably. Jimmy needs to solve this, for closure, for the partner who brought him into the loop in the first place.
He’s saying something to Adam Brashear when he’s suddenly struck by the memory of Roberto’s smile the day that they first met. The sun, shining on him. The light in his eyes. He had that contagious excitement when it came to scheming. Jimmy loved that about him.
And Roberto loved mysteries and adventures and stories. Chasing clues and finding answers. Secret masterminds having secret meetings in secret bases.
Roberto would have loved this.
*
The future.
The Phoenix comes back to earth and dead mutants suddenly show up alive again. It can’t be a coincidence. Jimmy tries not to get his hopes up for one mutant in particular, but he can’t help it. In this marvelous world they live in, surely anything is possible.
He is invited to the Hellfire Gala. He arrives, alone. He takes in the music, the lights. Everything beautiful, nothing life-changing.
And then he sees him.
There’s no mistaking it. No other mutant has powers that look like that – nobody on earth has powers that look like that, except…
“Roberto!”
People stare, of course. He doesn’t have to be a telepath to sense that he might be making a scene. He doesn’t care. He pushes forward. Roberto is there, and Sam is standing next to him, and they look so happy and alive.
“James!”
Jimmy hugs him. He has so much to say, he’s not sure what should come first. I’m so glad you’re alright. What happened? Where did you go? I missed you.
All the words get caught in his throat. He chokes, laughs, blinks the tears away from his eyes.
What he finally says is, “I’m glad you’re here.”