The Law of Averages

Dan's house did not include a basement. There was nothing in the floor plan about a bottom layer, nor did his previous tour include a sojourn into the subterranean depths. Which would neatly explain why there was no convenient set of stairs leading down into the large metal structure hidden beneath the floor. As it was, Dan found himself staring blankly at a patch of wood floor, positioned roughly in the center of the house. The squarish section of wood was positioned beside a wall, directly beneath a power socket. It was about as plain and undecorated as your average floor. Dan's power insisted that this was the thinnest layer between the bottom of the house and the open space below it.

"I don't see anything," Abby noted, kneeling down a few feet away from the supposed opening. Her eyes squinted as she added, "No visible seams. You think there's a secret button?"

Dan's veil dripped through the floor like a leaking pipe, soaking the wood and steel. It spread outwards, flowing along the edges of the entrance, up the wall, down into the earth. The pool of energy within him drained ever lower, pulsing with every new material it pierced. It formed a map, a mental reconstruction of what lay beyond the wall. X-ray vision, except worse in almost every way.

But good enough, as it turned out.

There were an awful lot of wires running from the wall outlet, down into the ground. An awful lot of rubber and copper, stretching across the underside of the floor. Beneath it, attached to the section of floor, a sliding section of metal. Like a trapdoor, opening downwards. All it needed was a trigger, some way of activation. Dan's eyes trailed upwards. The previous owner of the house was a minor electrokinetic, and there was a socket directly above the hidden entrance.

Dan pointed at it. "I'm pretty sure that's your secret button."

"The outlet?" Abby frowned. To her credit, it took only a moment for her to make the connection. "Oh right, because then only he would be able to open it."

They both stared at it for another few moments.

"Well crap. How are we supposed to work this thing?" Abby asked, coming to her feet. She stretched the kinks out of her back, grumbling, "Maybe you should just stick a fork in it."

"Oh, now you wanna open it?" Dan questioned curiously. She'd been all for calling the cops, right up until they had found the actual entrance.

His question seemed to remind her of that fact. Her eyes widened, and she jabbed a finger at him. "No! This is way too dangerous to mess around with ourselves! We should be calling the cops. I just got caught up in the moment is all."

"Uh huh." Dan eyed the wall socket, as he puzzled out a plan. His veil pulled back into him, pooling around his feet. "And how would we explain my knowledge of this thing?"

Abby faltered at that. "We could say... that you tripped the breaker? And— and that opened it automatically when the power went out!"

Dan's veil extended in a single microscopic thread. It crawled through the wooden floor, reaching the sectioned panel that acted as an entrance. "I can think of, like, ten different ways for that lie to get exposed. What if this area has an independent power source? What if the police investigate the breaker and find out nothing actually happened? What if they take a look at the opening mechanism and discover that power loss would have absolutely no impact on it?" These weren't even the largest issues, to Dan. His greatest concern was that, should the secret room prove to be some kind of vigilante lair, the APD would simply seize his house.

Unfortunately, the rational part of his mind was screaming at him to be a responsible interdimensional-immigrant and call the police. Or maybe even the local equivalent of the FBI. Vigilantes were basically considered terrorists, after all. It seemed reasonable.

But he needed a way to explain how he found the lair in the first place. His plan was both straightforward and simple. His veil finished its mission, covering a large section of the trapdoor's sliding frame, leaving the panel above untouched. The entire structure consisted of several pieces attached with heavy bolts. By removing the last section, he hoped to fake a half-completed repair job. He glanced over to Abby.

"I'm just gonna remove one of the supports." He decided aloud. "The trapdoor won't fall by itself, but it should drop as soon as enough weight gets put on it. It's a reasonable thing to overlook, and we can float the idea that our dearly departed vigilante was in the process of replacing it when he was killed."

Her face scrunched into itself. "I don't get it. Then what?"

Dan shrugged. "We'll put a piece of furniture on it. It'll fall in. Then," he paused, sighing, "I'll call Gregoir."

Abby lit up at the sullen admission. She clapped her hands together and bounced slightly on her feet. "That's a great idea! Gregoir probably has some experience with this sort of thing, and you can trust him not to screw you over."

"Intentionally, at least," Dan muttered to himself. He shifted on his feet slightly, feeling out his veil. His plan had plenty of holes as well. The largest of which, was that the previous owner's death had been investigated. He was banking on the general dislike of vigilantes carrying the lie for him. The investigators had clearly half-assed the job, having missed the gigantic underground lair. Additionally, the realtor in charge of selling the property had, by her own admission, set foot on it maybe three times in total. It seemed possible, if unlikely, that the malfunctioning trapdoor could have been missed.

Dan shrugged off his uncertainty. Worst case scenario, he would simply plead ignorance. There was no lie here that could be exposed. He placed a piece of furniture down on his floor, and it fell into a secret room. Boom. Easy. It's not like they'd dig up the missing support from beneath his mattress, covered in Dan's fingerprints. The damn thing would be well and truly inaccessible.

With the last of his doubts fading away, Dan willed himself into the void.

"It was good of you to call me, Daniel!" Gregoir boomed, clapping a heavy hand on Dan's back. The man was dressed in his officer blues, with a black Kevlar vest strapped over his chest. Despite his jovial tone, the big blonde's face was serious as it had ever been. "It's a dangerous breed of human that willingly engages in vigilantism these days. There's no telling what manner of dangerous traps might be down there. Never underestimate the devious mindset of the constantly paranoid!"

"Clearly not paranoid enough," Dan couldn't help but point out. "Considering how he died and all."

Gregoir sliced his hand through the air. "Nonsense! No man can be ever vigilant. That he lasted this long in such a dangerous profession speaks volumes about his caution. This will be a challenge of the ages!"

Dan nodded awkwardly, even as Abby gave him a smug look. "Yuh-huh. So what's the plan here? Call for backup? Bring in the bomb squad?"

Their little group had gathered next to the newly revealed trapdoor. Abby had gleefully dropped a grandfather clock, an old antique that had come with the home, onto the the 5'x5' section of wood that acted as an entrance. Its shattered remains sat at the bottom of a three meter drop into what appeared to be a steel-encased cave. The walls were dull, old and worn, but the metal remained untarnished. There were no lights at the bottom; what little they could see was illuminated by spillover from the living room.

Gregoir's gigantic index finger rubbed the underside of his perfectly sculpted chin as he pondered the problem before him. Dan imagined that he was calculating the possibilities, identifying the best way to secure Dan's home, formulating a plan. Surely, Gregoir was on his side. Dan could trust him to solve this problem.

The French Viking finally grunted with satisfaction. "Hm. I think not. This challenge, I shall face myself!" His meaty hand came up, clenching into a fist with a whap of displaced air.

Dan processed this ludicrous statement.

"Exsqueeze me?"

"Yes!" Gregoir cried, as Abby's eye's bulged in shock. "I shall descend into the depths beneath your house and carve a safe path inward! MY FIGHTING SPIRIT SURGES AT THE CHALLENGE!"

In one smooth motion, he ripped off his entire shirt. The Kevlar vest came with it, its straps shredding like spaghetti in the face of Gregoir's enthusiastic might. Bulging muscles were revealed to the world, sculpted like a Greek God, shining with fresh oil.

"Gregoir, buddy, slow down," Dan pleaded, holding both hands in front of the giant. "I think you're being a little rash here!" Especially if Dan could notice it. He was hardly a paragon of moderation, himself. "Isn't this the sort of thing where you call in a specialist?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Daniel, I am a specialist!" Gregoir chided (loudly). "You shouldn't second guess yourself! You were right to call me, instead of the department. As a Natural officer of the APD, I am fully empowered to act in lieu of a SPEAR Team during extraordinary circumstances! By acting now, I can both spare you the trouble of a lengthy investigation, and protect the lives of my fellow officers!"

He'd called Gregoir to get a second opinion on what to do, maybe to have him run interference with the cops, not to have the lunatic run headfirst through a gauntlet of traps!

"What if you set something off down there?" Dan demanded, some anger leaking into his tone. "That would put Abby and me in danger!" He gestured to his girlfriend, who still appeared to be stunned speechless.

"Do not worry, my friend!" Gregoir reassured him patiently, his pecs somehow sparkling in the dim light. "My keen intuition tells me that the late Captain Quantum would not have carelessly endangered civilian lives! I am certain that none of his countermeasures will reach the surface! Wait for me, for I shall return!"

"Your keen intuition can kiss my—" Dan's angry protest was drowned out by a jubilant battle cry. Gregoir swan dived into the opening with a loud whoop, and vanished from sight. The sound of crushed glass and wood quickly filled the silence.

Abby stared blankly at the gaping hole in the floor. "The fuck just happened, Danny?"

The floor stirred slightly, gentle vibrations reaching through the soles of Dan's shoes. An echoing thump emerged from deep within the ground.

"This is what happens when you call the police," Dan pointed out reasonably.

"Calling him was your idea!" Abby shrieked, looking half a second from strangling him. "What are we supposed to do when he gets killed down there!?"

A long, steady whine emerged from the entrance; a siren, a warning. A single, thin trail of smoke floated upwards. Another thump and the floor shook. The wood groaned, but kept its shape.

"I'm sure he'll be fine," Dan offered weakly.