Field Trip
“Thor! You still in here?” Steve was contemplating ways to use the shield for sound amplification when the god himself crashed to the atrium floor.
“None of the relics are active,” Thor informed him, absentmindedly shrugging off some rubble. “That eliminates a few who might have been responsible.”
“Then what’s with the-”, Steve indicated the disembodied skeleton hand clinging to the red cape.
“Ah.” Thor shook the fingers free and ground them to dust with his heel. “Those remains were enchanted to attack any of the house of Odin who laid eyes on them. It’s a shame, since I’ve longed to visit your museums, but not at the expense of fellow patrons.”
“Okay.” Steve felt simultaneously out of his depth and relieved that Thor so clearly wasn’t. “Peggy and I got a lead. All those afflicted were born after 1919.”
Thor frowned. “Do you suspect a connection to your first world war? Midgard’s debut as a people capable of waging large-scale war, proving yourselves a serious threat?”
“I doubt it. Have you seen any action overseas?”
The prince shook his head.
“Then it’s probably not a martial strategy. Could be a fringe group, but who’s even been active that long?”
“It may not be an organization,” he said grimly. “In Asgard, it takes only an individual to start a war.” He spoke from considerable experience.
“Any individuals come to mind? The sudden onset, the very specific symptoms, the scale of this thing, sounds an awful lot like magic to me.”
“I agree. I will consult Heimdall as to whether any convicts from Algrim’s prison break remain unaccounted for.”
Steve nodded. “Great. Meet me back at Peggy’s. I want to keep her in the loop, see if she remembers any mysterious hostiles from before the war. Might have been Asgardians before, we, you know-”
“Before our people were properly introduced.” Thor smiled. “May I escort you back to Ms. Carter?”
He gestured to the exit. “I got my bike.”
Thor laughed. “I can carry both of you. Come.”
“Oh, that’s not--” Whatever. Steve followed him out of the lobby and into the overcast street. “You know, I didn’t mean to say your people are necessarily responsible. There are magicians on Earth, right?”
“This is true. But none of your magicians are up to an enchantment of this magnitude.” Thor wrapped his cape around one arm, keeping his armor from scratching the motorcycle’s exterior and deftly nestling its chassis in his elbow. The other arm, carrying Mjolnir, wrapped around Steve’s chest.
“Yeah, no, I meant-” A gust of wind hit his mouth, cutting him off. Steve had traveled with his share of planes faster than this, but he was usually on the inside. Jesus Christ.
“I’m sorry, you were saying?” Thor politely inquired a minute later, as they set down in the hospice parking lot.
“Uh, I. Wow.”
“Are you nauseous?” Thor stepped forward cautiously. “I flew only slightly faster than how I usually carry mortals, in light of your modifications, but I apologize if you are-”
“No you’re good. I mean, I’m good. Just. We’ve got to do that again sometime.”
Thor chuckled with relief. “No doubt the occasion will arise. Give Ms. Carter my regards.”