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Carol Danvers doesn't flinch.
Of course, unlike most people, she doesn't have to be afraid that the taxi careening down Broadway is going to leave her in the hospital if it hits her; between Captain Marvel and a car, there's no contest. Something tells me that her response would have been exactly the same in her years before gaining powers, though. "Hey!" she shouts as the driver blows through a crosswalk. "Watch where you're going!"
"Sorry about that," she adds. "You're from the Midwest, right?"
Blunt aggression paired with courtesy are all part of the Danvers package. The courtesy is genuine, too; she agreed to meet me in Manhattan rather than expecting me to take the ferry out to her new quarters in the Statue of Liberty. She's just as much at home on the city streets as she is in the skies, although even in pinstriped slacks and a casual top, she stands out in the eclectic atmosphere of a downtown coffeeshop. Danvers is, quite simply, a giant—and not just in the literal sense, although she stands at nearly six feet and crackles with energy.
Her story is familiar across the globe; born to a working-class family in Boston, Danvers joined the Air Force right out of high school, finished her degree, and took every dangerous post that came her way. Her dossier reads like something out of a Hollywood thriller—test piloting, intelligence operations, and covert flights over restricted airspace. When the Air Force started to lose her interest, Danvers turned to NASA, writing and editing, costumed heroics, and, finally, to the Avengers. Her long and storied history with the team now positions her rightfully as the poster-woman for the superpowered community, every bit as recognizable as founding members like Tony Stark or Jan Van Dyne.
When I tell her this as we wait for our coffees, she laughs. "You think so?" she says. "I can't lie, I like it when people recognize me, but I don't think that's what the Avengers are about. And look at Natasha or Wanda—plenty of my teammates have been on the front lines longer than I have. Poster-woman isn't a title I want."
For a woman who once hired a PR rep to boost her image, this is a surprising admission. I suggest it's a good place to start our interview—but despite my determination to keep this focused on Danvers, I am as dazzled as anyone else by the casual mentions of her comrades-in-arms.
The Bulletin: You don't think you're one of the team's stars? A lot of people see you as a female answer to Captain America.
Carol Danvers: Wow, I actually—no. No, and I find that characterization offensive. Cap is Cap. While our military backgrounds give us a shared perspective, believe me when I say that I'm not the "female" answer to anyone. I stand on my own two feet.
But you're a feminist?
Yes.
Do you think your gender impacts your role on the Avengers?
Let me think for a second. [She frowns.] No. Well, yes, in that it informs my worldview, but the current incarnation of the team is egalitarian. I like it that way. You aren't wasting any time, are you?
You're taking up a new post with the Avengers, aren't you?
I am. I'm going to be spending a year in space as a—outpost listener, I guess would be a good description. I leave tomorrow, actually! But a friend of mine suggested it might be a good idea to give at least one interview to let the world know where I'm going.
What will your job be?
I can't talk about specifics, unfortunately, but in broadest strokes, I'll be doing what the Avengers have always done—sticking my nose where it doesn't belong and helping out where I'm needed. There was a "help us, Obi-Wan, you're our only hope" moment that made me think this is what I need to be doing right now.
I understand you recently had a traumatic brain injury.
I did. Again, can't talk details, but I've been dealing with some memory loss. It isn't the first time I've had to reframe my sense of self. I'm lucky that I've had so many people who love me around to help me cope. It can be...startling to realize how fragile our identities are.
It's interesting to hear you say that, because publicly you've always come across as someone who is very sure of herself.
You think so? [She laughs.] Between the alias changes, the whole ordeal surrounding the SHRA, the incidental amnesia, the addictive personality...it's a wonder I know my own name.
But despite all of that…
I've never had a problem knowing what I want. My problem—or one of them—is that I don't always want what's good for me. I like to think I'm getting better at weighing the risks versus the rewards as I get older, but… [She shrugs.] Part of me is always going to be that hotshot girl who leaps before she looks.
Let's shift topics for a moment. You didn't gain your powers until you were an adult, correct?
That's right. I had a run-in with a Kree device while I was stationed at Cape Canaveral.
Does it feel natural to you now, or are there still mornings where you wake up and it seems strange that you can fly?
You're kidding, right?
Or that you can shoot energy beams—
That part can be trippy, I'll admit. Honestly? I don't think about it a lot anymore, but I can tell you that when my powers have changed or been taken away—that's what feels weird. It might be because I've been fundamentally altered on a cellular level or because I inherited some kind of Kree genetic memory during the Psyche-Magnitron incident, or it might be because self-propelled flight is a dream come true—
Actually, going back to your last question—it doesn't ever feel strange to me, but sometimes as a pilot I regret that I won't ever be able to go on the books with certain records. There would always be that doubt that I was somehow manipulating my aircraft, and that isn't fair. Still wouldn't give up the powers, though.
What exactly does your powerset include?
Flight, super strength and durability, the whole package—I can absorb energy, I can fire concussive blasts. Hank tells me they're photon beams, and I believe him because he's a doctor. Molecular manipulation. That's a fun one. I can't do anything large-scale, but I can change my clothes or my hair.
I think we've all wondered about the hair.
Secret Kree technique. [She winks.]
Before we wrap up, we have some reader-submitted questions.
Sure.
Let's see, Ally from Cedar Rapids wants to know what you're reading now and if you're planning on writing any more books.
Not at the moment, although I haven't given up writing entirely. I won't rule another book out, though. Being in space for an extended period has always provided a lot of inspiration. There's so much out there.
What I'm reading—I just picked up Ann Leckie's Ancillary Justice. A lot of SF fans out there will have read that already, but it deserves every award it's won.
Demarco from Joplin recently discovered he has powers, and he'd like to know if you think that will affect his chances of getting into the Air Force Academy.
Absolutely not, Demarco, and if someone tries to tell you otherwise, knock 'em on their ass! I'm kidding. Mostly. There's definitely legal protection out there, though, and the Air Force does not and should not restrict applicants based on post-human ability. Study hard, work hard, and you'll do fine.
Amy from Brooklyn is a police officer who was in the middle of the action when Kree Sentries invaded a few months ago, and she wants to thank you for putting your life on the line—
I have to interrupt—Amy, thank you. We're both here to serve, but what I do is only possible because of you do. I've seen so many different calamities, alien and otherwise, that were only kept under control because a New York cop kept their head. Does she say what precinct she's from?
She does.
Do you mind if I take this?
Go ahead. Can I ask—
You can, buuuuut I'm not going to answer. That's between me, Amy, and Amy's buddies in the Nine-Nine.
Fair enough. Okay, we have two special questions. The first is Jim from Philadelphia, who wants to know what your favorite type of plane is and if it hurts to be so outclassed in terms of air superiority by your boyfriend?
My favorite type of plane...well, Jim from Philadelphia, I've flown a lot of aircraft, both human and non-human and including a lot of cutting-edge prototypes out of Lockheed, Boeing, and Stark, but what I like best is still a single-engine prop.
My boyfriend refuses to accept that no matter how much fancy tech he uses, he's never going to outfly me. He makes up for it in plenty of other ways, though. [She grins.]
Lastly we have Kit from New York, who wants you to know that she's going to miss you and wonders if there's anyone you're going to miss while you're gone.
Oh sweetheart, there are absolutely people I'm going to miss. I'll miss my boyfriend, even if he is delusional, and I'll miss all of my friends and teammates, and I'll miss my helper, Lieutenant Trouble...listen to me, Kit, because this is a hard thing for even an adult to wrap her head around, but I want you to remember it.
Sometimes you're going to find yourself at a crossroads between doing what is easy—what people expect—and what is hard and new and scary. Don't ever shy away from doing what you need to do just because you have to leave something or someone behind. Bet on yourself, and everything else will work itself out. An old friend told me that before she died, and it's still some of the best advice I've ever gotten. Never be afraid to fly. ✷