16 November 2003
3 Days before World Conference on Metahumans
The deep voice of James Earl Jones, as it always did, intoned "This is CNN."
When the scene shifted again, Senior Correspondent Kay Griffith quickly steadied herself. The upcoming event was easily the biggest that she had ever covered, and marked a major step up in her career as a television newswoman. "Welcome back to our continuing coverage of the upcoming World Conference on Metahumans," she said, hoping that her guest would not turn this into a political forum. "We're here today with Sandra Collins CNN's senior political analyst. Sandra, how likely is the President to be sucessfull with this conference as his brainchild?"
Sandra brushed back her hair before answering. They really weren't wasting any time. "Quite frankly, while President Gornton is supposed to be a man of tolerance, this conference seems to be promoting anything but. This is easily the single most polarized event I have ever seen in my life, although the rights of Metahumans is an issue that needs addressing. Have you seen the membership figures of Humans First alone?”
“That’s true, the membership of humans first and other groups has been increasing of late, but they have still been unsuccessful in undercutting the popularity of Senator Douglass, the man regarded as their chief opponent in the Senate.”
“Douglass has his share of the blame in this, along with Senator Layman. Their hatred for each other has reached the point where Jon Stewart has joked the deficit will be fixed by a pay-per-view cage match between them. But they’re just one part of what’s going on, with Humans First having a large rally right before the conference with Layman appearing – and the Alliance for Human Rights going out in support of Douglass.”
“What about the controversy over the appointment of Tomas Greene to handle security at the Waterman Hotel? Is Morgan right in his pick?” A picture of Morgan arriving and defending his pick played over the screen for bit as this was asked. Barely visible in the background for a few seconds was ‘Thomas Greene’ also known as The Fixer.
“It’s to be expected with the current political climate, and worries over metahumans. Most of the concerns are revolving around the question: what if a Meta is in charge of some amount of security at this thing, and decides that the conference isn’t supporting meta rights enough? That’s why the insistence on screening was made, to insure that we would know who any metas in security were.
“Basically though, what we have here is the worst possible thing. Everyone is heading to extremes of one sort or another. The Council on Foreign Relations went so far as to end a meeting early on Metahumans, and to ‘wait to see what the conference recommends’ before issuing its own recommendations. We have political, national, business, and the top security experts all gathering here, along with scientists who have been researching metahumans.
“Quite simply put, I’m not about to predict how the conference will go except to say one thing.
“Holding this conference is like bag of gunpowder, and tossing it into a burning barn. It’s only a matter of time before something goes wrong, and it will probably be sooner rather than later.”
Post to TwitterCROSSOVER SERIES ONE: NOVEMBER 16, 2003 TO MARCH 31, 2004
Saturday, 29th November 2003 – 3:58pm
Ela seethed. The argument with Mel still rang in her head, and she alternated between fuming and shaking with reaction. And she worried. Mel, Sol and Sydney were all strong metas, sure, but they could be damaged. And without her there, who would heal them?
Feeling isolated and useless, Ela stormed around the suite for a while before finally flopping onto the couch to check out the TV. If she couldn’t help save the world, maybe she could watch a rerun of “I Love Lucy”. Flicking through the channels she paused at NBC4, the local news station.
For several minutes Ela sat, open mouthed at the images that flickered on the screen before her. Then she made up her mind. *Mel only said I couldn’t go to the airfield. She didn’t say anything about heading out for a walk.*
Soon she was barrelling out of the hotel lobby and racing the few blocks to the fringes of the riot that was already escalating out of control. She saw police, military, metas and normal people all surging together, the pop of bullets overshadowed by the whine and boom of energy beams that lanced through the crowd. She watched in horror as one of the beams sliced into the ranks of troops that were just beginning to take aim at one of the antagonists, scattering those that weren’t instantly fried.
Assorted metas were trying to do their bit, but they weren’t faring much better than the military. But Ela’s attention was focused on the edges of the mess, where people tried to flee the nightmare that had engulfed them. Some had been hit by the energy beams, others caught by flying debris, still others pummelled and trampled by those around them in their frantic efforts to escape. Buffeted by people pushing past her, Ela struggled to reach those she could see who were on the ground, those too badly hurt to run or even hobble away. The walking wounded, she figured, would find their way to a hospital… it was the ones in imminent danger that she concerned herself with.
Movement caught her eye, and she glanced upward in time to see a low-flying meta swoop towards the position one of the beams had come from. A sizzling bolt licked out at the meta, causing her to swerve suddenly to avoid being hit, and she plummeted to the ground. Immediately a group of terrified people descended upon the meta, screaming at her, yelling and kicking, heedless of the fact that she’d apparently been trying to stop the madness. Ela’s view was disrupted by a fresh swell of humanity and she swallowed, hoping the meta would survive her beating by the very people she’d been trying to help.
Doing her best to ignore the continuing booms and blasts and the screams of hundreds of frightened people, Ela sought out those she could reach who needed her help. She knelt by a young man whose legs were still smoking, obviously having been kissed by the edge of a beam. His fingertips were bloody where he was dragging himself along the asphalt, his face a mask of terror and pain. She put a hand on his wrist, halting his painful progress, and went to work to ease his suffering and heal the worst of the damage.
After some minutes the wild look left the man’s eyes, to be replaced by wonder and relief. He still wouldn’t be able to walk, but at least he’d survive to reach a hospital now, Ela figured. People buffeted the pair as Ela crouched next to the man, and someone tripped over them, cursing. As the man stood up, Ela grabbed his hand.
“Please, sir, help this man out of here – he needs a hospital.”
The man snatched his hand away, then looked down with fear and compassion warring behind his eyes.
“Ok,” he said eventually, and helped the stricken man upright. The pain from his burns was still bad enough that he winced, but with his benefactor’s help they staggered away from the carnage.
Ela moved further in.
As she worked, moving from person to person – stopping life-threatening bleeding, knitting broken bones, easing the agony of burns – debris landed on her periodically. She ignored it. The noise was deafening as beams sliced through concrete and metal. She tuned it out. Her entire attention was focused on the task at hand.
Which was why she never saw the danger she was in until it was too late.
“What are you doing to her? You’re one of those stinking metas! You fucking bitch!”
The words finally impinged on her consciousness as a rough hand pulled her abruptly away from the woman she was working on. Ela blinked, focusing on the rage-filled eyes before her, her senses suddenly overwhelmed by the ongoing riot still boiling around her.
“I been watching you, you stinking bitch! You messing with people. Things like you don’t got no right to live!”
Ela tried to wipe the spittle from her eye as the man screamed at her. She looked around for help, but everybody was either fighting or running, and none looked at the pair. An energy blast boomed nearby, making Ela jump, and the man only shook her harder.
“Scum like you ruining it for everyone. I mean, look at this mess here! It’s your fault, you fucking bitch!”
“But I-“
“Shut up!” the man yelled, hitting her hard across the face.
Briefly Ela noted the irony of him hitting her on the already bruised side, even as she winced with the sharp pain of the blow. She tried to pull away from him, but he had her in a vice-like grip, shaking her as he continued to hurl invective at her. Any time she opened her mouth to speak he hit her, and she was beginning to feel dazed. Her heart pounded in terror, and she found herself making pathetic mewling sounds as she struggled to free herself.
Then he threw her to the ground and began to kick her. She felt her ribs give way and curled in on herself, hoping he’d stop soon. Blood ran from the gashes he’d opened in her face, and now his boots left a combination of aches and sharp pains deep within her body. Her vision blurred as the beating seemed to go on eternally, and she became almost clinically detached as she categorised her injuries. Apart from the cuts, bruises and broken ribs, she was sure she’d started to bleed internally, and from the excruciating pain at the small of her back she was fairly certain he’d damaged her kidneys. Or maybe her spine. She couldn’t tell for sure.
Then for a moment the blows stopped, and Ela cracked open one rapidly puffing eye to peer between the arms she held protectively over her head. She saw nothing nearby, and let her terror subside a little. It was over.
But then searing pain stabbed throughout her body from her injuries as the man hauled her roughly to her feet from behind. Spinning her around to face him, she almost threw up from the excruciating sensation. He shook her violently, still screaming at her though she’d long ago stopped hearing what he was saying. All she knew was that if she didn’t get away soon she was going to die.
She didn’t want to die.
His hands wrapped around her throat, cutting off what little air she’d been able to breathe, and her panic rose even higher.
*Ohgodohgodohgodohgod.*
Not even thinking, she concentrated on the man before her with every erg of energy she could muster. She visualised his blood vessels as they wound through his body to his heart, and there she stopped the flow. For a moment he continued to strangle her, then his eyes lost their fierce expression and he looked merely puzzled. Then he fell, and with nothing to hold her up Ela collapsed to the ground beside him.
She looked into his unseeing eyes and for just a moment she was grateful he was dead.
Then she vomited. The pain from her beating was so great she wasn’t sure she could even stay conscious, but the battle still raged around her and she knew if she wasn’t to be another casualty she had to leave. Now.
Crawling with agonising slowness she found a wall and followed it, putting one limb in front of the other for an age until strong arms reached down and lifted her up. She had only a fuzzy notion of what her rescuer looked like as she finally succumbed to the darkness that lurked behind her eyes.
CROSSOVER SERIES ONE: NOVEMBER 16, 2003 TO MARCH 31, 2004
November 29th, 2003
3:58 PM
Outside of the abandoned building, anarchy soared. Inside, Culexes watched without a hint of repulsion or glee. He watched as person after person was shot and killed by the energy rifles. He watched many Meta’s tried to stop them—and die for their deed. Well, at least some good came out of it.
Culexes was on the third floor of the old building. It was condemned and was to be torn down within days, but for now it served as the perfect place to sniper. He had Spectrum—who he now knew was Lori Grant—in his sights.
But it didn’t last long. Spectrum was constantly moving, and the panicking people were constantly getting in the way of his shot. Unless everybody stopped moving at such a frantic pace, he wasn’t going to be able to shoot her from here.
The dark, heavy hood of Lash’s cloak hid her features beneath its shadow as she swiftly moved through the swarming chaos. Her eyes narrowed when she’d spotted more of those brainless people with their energy rifles blasting off again. Had she the desire to, she could whip out the one she’d collected the other day during the tragedy that was the Pro-Meta rally and start giving those insolent pricks a taste of their own medicine herself! Fortunately for them, she’d left it in a safe location and she was there solely for one reason, and one reason alone.
Spectrum.
Now Culexes was in one of DC’s many alleyways, perpendicular to the action. He was alone, and looking through his sniper rifle. He was trying to see if he would be able to shoot Spectrum from this angle. Suddenly, one of the gunmen backed up, still firing, into the alley. He clearly didn’t know Culexes was there.
*Damn* Culexes thought angrily. He started to lower his gun…and then stopped. These gunmen had very powerful guns—energy weapons. A strange curiosity surfaced in Culexes’ mind…what would it be like to wield one of those weapons? Such power…
But the Scorpion Agent quickly put these thoughts from his mind. Taking another weapon was against Scorpion protocol. It was unnecessary. But still…Culexes watched in a slight awe as the gunman used his weapon and blew up part of a nearby car. Culexes brought up his gun again.
Lori tried her best to fight, but there was no easy way to do it. Every time she tried to attack an innocent, or not so innocent, bystander would get in her way. And all the screaming was giving her a migraine. Below her, she saw a young girl being targeted by one of the gunmen, and she swooped down.
The girl jumped to the side and Lori took her place, ready to face off. The gunman was fast, however, and Spectrum was forced to dodge to the side as well. She braced herself to charge at the man—
Suddenly hands were on her. Around her people screamed anti-meta slurs. What had she done to deserve this? Would nobody appreciate the help? People kicked at her and grabbed at her, and Lori was forced to blind them all, just so she could take to the air again.
*It would be nice, just for once, to not be feared*
Chyestna,” Lash swirled out of an oncoming fists path, quick to grab it and swung them around into the solid brick wall. “Rastee!” She chided the man as he slumped unconscious to the ground, then continued, unruffled, about her business.
She considered possibly getting some more height in order to find Spectrum, until… “Bingo!” She smiled to herself as she finally managed to spot Spectrum. The smile only lasted temporarily as she composed herself and, believe it or not, got serious.
…*On second thoughts… a little height probably wouldn’t hurt. Just in case.*
In another alleyway, Culexes stood, watching for a chance to hit Spectrum. He had to do it soon; he had taken too long as it was. His little experiment of shooting the gunman to get his gun had been a complete failure; the man was dead, but the gun had melted when the man died. It was somehow connected to the man’s life!
Despite the knowledge that he shouldn’t be dong this, Culexes continued to wonder about the weapons. What would happen if they were simply taken from the gunmen without killing the gunmen? Would they melt then? Scorpion didn’t have any weapons that worked like this…
It had started that there were 5 gunmen, but now there were more like 10. And this was 10 minus the one he had been able to take out, the two Spectrum had been able to take out, and the 3 some other Meta’s had taken out. Would it really make a difference if he had to knock out one more gunman?
“Progress update Culexes.” Deimos crackled in his ear. At the sound of his voice, Culexes faltered. He couldn’t tell Deimos what he was trying to do…
“I have the target in sights,” Culexes said truthfully enough. “Her execution will commence shortly.”
In all honesty, Lash was feeling guilty about merely spectating and not actually helping. She sighed, sad eyes watching as more metas and humans alike fell, but she had to keep to her objective.
She focused harder on the heroine below. There by no means was certain proof for her to believe it… but there was definitely enough for her to speculate….
Lori Grant had never left Washington DC. Lash knew this, naturally, by doing what she did best. It wasn’t always just the Senators she’d been keeping a sharp eye on. And now Spectrum appeared to be making more frequent appearances.
Hugging herself close against the chilling scene below, Lash suddenly caught a glimmer of something familiar out the corner of her eye and distracted her attention momentarily to investigate the alley below.
At first she thought it was that same man that had tried mugging her the other night, but soon noticed that it was just similar clothing, entirely different man. *No wait… same clothing!* Lash sniffed thoughtfully, “Must be some sort of uniform.”
In yet a third alleyway, Culexes stood, heart pounding. He had never done anything like this before. He had never broken protocol like this. He had killed a man—unauthorized. He had knocked out another man—unauthorized. He was planning to use an unauthorized weapon to complete his objective. The adrenaline rush that had come with breaking the rules for the first time had left and he was now filled with a deep sense of worry…how would he explain this to Daedalous?
Lori hovered down to a nearby alleyway to take a break. She was physically and mentally exhausted…she couldn’t remember the last time she had fought like this. And for what? It didn’t look like she had made much of an impact. She breathed heavily, unaware of the man standing not too far behind her.
Culexes couldn’t believe his luck! The worry slipped out of him and a sense of duty replaced it. He had an objective to complete, and complete it he would. He lifted up the new energy weapon he had obtained and pointed it right at Spectrum.
Lash smirked as she watched Spectrum move out of the fight, *Aw… she’s all tuckered out!* chuckling to herself, she curiously spared her glance back again to check if that other man she’d seen was still there. He was… he was lining something up!
… No… someone
Lash glanced back to Spectrum… then to the man… then back again…. *Koorvin sein!*
Spectrum sensed a presence behind her and tilted her head backwards, expecting to see some homeless man or a frightened person, hiding from the gunmen. What she saw instead was a man in a uniform similar—no, exactly like—the one on the man whom she had fought while trying to save that purple Meta woman. It wasn’t the same man, but he was apparently from the same group (whatever that was). The most disturbing thing about the man, however, was the energy gun he had pointed at her.
Culexes didn’t grin. He didn’t explain his plan, motives or who he was. Had he been an action movie villain, the audience might have thought his role very under par. All her did was make sure he had her targeted, braced himself for any kickback, and--
“Boof!”
Lash rolled off the man, gripping his arm and wrenching it up behind him in one swift motion that brought her to her feet, knee driving into his back. “Teach you to play nice with- ah!” Lash cried out, flying into a dumpsters corner as she was unexpectedly overcome and thrown off.
“Agent Leksi may have failed in his objective,” The man spoke arrogantly, forcefully shoving his dislocated shoulder back in place. “But where he failed, I’ll succeed.”
“That’s lovely,” Lash chimed, bewildered by the immense pain he’d shrugged off as indifferently as a pestering fly. She suddenly fell back into the dumpster, re-emerging from behind against the wall she thrust it into the man with her feet.
Lori wasn’t sure exactly what was happening. It took her a moment to register that no gun blast had come, and another to register that the man was fighting with someone. It took a third moment for her to realize who this was—the purple Meta!
Not waiting any more, Lori swung into action. She ran forward and pushed the man just to get him off-balance so she could prepare a proper attack—the push, however, roved ineffective. The man looked backwards at her and elbowed her in the face. Lori gasped and fell to her knees.
Culexes faltered for a moment. He knew who both of these people were, and only Lori Grant was his target. Killing the other (what was her name again?) would have been fine since she interfered with his mission and was already targeted by Scorpion, but he wasn’t sure who to go after first. The catty one was livelier and was more likely to escape do to her power, but if he went after her then that could give Lori Grant time enough to escape…or did she enjoy playing hero so much that she would fight him until one of them fell?
Spectrum took this time to recover. She crossed over past Culexes too the side that the purple woman was on. Her hands emanated light, ready to give off a blinding flash. She turned to the other woman and said, “Who are you?”
She didn’t have time to answer. She only cried, “Move!” and pushed Lori to the wall as she herself sprang backwards. Lori saw a blinding light, equal to something she could create, went past her, she heard a large crash and felt dust or something blowing past her skin…and then everything went dark! She had been blinded! Lori had no time to laugh over the irony of her going blind before she felt a hand take hers and she was running in darkness.
*Damn!* Culexes has missed his mark, and with a weapon like this, that wasn’t easy to do. He was letting his nerves get to him. He ran down the ally, past where the blast had done its damage and followed the two women.
“Oh cr…! *Feisty little prick, aren’t you?* Lash cursed inwardly as whipped her head around in time to see their pursuer rounding the corner, lining them up once again. *Fantastic escaping girls!* Snatching the dazed Lori’s hand up once more she turned about to spirit away yet again, but only got a few steps before slowing as she took in the dreaded sight ahead of them.
Dead end.
The only other escape was back the way they’d come!
*Crap, crap, crap!* They were dead meat, and she knew it.
With one final pained, regretful look back, Tiaret squeezed her eyes shut as a single tear ran tentatively down her cheek.
She couldn’t die! Not now! Not when she was so close!
Lori wasn’t sure what was going on. They had been running and now they had stopped. She could fell her eyesight was beginning to come back slowly. She felt relief that the blindness was only temporary, but she hoped she wouldn’t be in the dark too long. There was a man with a gun chasing her after all.
Culexes saw the women up ahead and he too felt relief. There was a wall ahead, and he had them trapped like rats in a dead end. He lifted the gun and lined them up again.
A mere tug was all Lori had needed before her legs were pumping at desperately as Lash’s to outrun the blast. Lash had never believed she could run so fast, but the adrenalin was coming so strong and desperate, miracles could happen… and did.
The two gained and gained on the dead ends wall, faster and faster they bolted until worry was plainly etched on Lori’s face ( she couldn’t see much but she could see the wall—there wasn’t much missing it), but she pressed on nevertheless, darting one quick unsure glance at the sheer determination on her companions own.
Beneath the surface, however, utter hopelessness swarmed Lash’s mind, threatening to take over at their vain attempts for survival. They couldn’t win. She could feel the heat of the energy bolt mere seconds from hitting them coerced the sweat from her body as she pushed harder, Lori beginning to drag a little as were nearly on the wall.
Lash had given in to her untimely fate, her mind slipping into an oblivion while her body somehow managed to carry on, separated entirely from her consciousness, stuck in the harsh world of reality….
Particles shifted and fibers of material existence molded together in one indefinable mass while consciousness was stretched. For Lori, it was as though she was attuned to every single particle about her as she seemed to co-exist outside the real world, like Alice, looking through the looking glass. For Lash, however, mind, body and spirit held captive to an impenetrable void that dispersed as suddenly as it came with a sharp thud when she suddenly experienced the most peculiar feeling pass over her before she felt her feet slip out from beneath. Soon following, by mere fractions of a second, was the deafening blast that shattered bricks and mortar to rain heavily down upon the two women if they didn’t move quickly. Lash was too mortified, trapped like a deer in the headlights, but was sharply flung out of the way by Lori who was suddenly up in flash of light simultaneous to the rupturing blast.
The two were up and running once again, this time with Lori in the lead as they fled the scene before their pursuer caught sight.
Lori was struck with utter awe at the miraculous recovery of her vision! Not to mention any other injuries she’d had that apparently mended themselves since they passed through that wall. She had to wonder what had happened back there, but knew that now was certainly not the best time to speculate.
She glanced down at the strange cat-like woman that had saved her and smiled reassuringly at the stunned look that was returned. Lori suddenly couldn’t help the queasy feeling that churned her insides at sure meaning behind that look.
The woman had never passed through a wall before. They should be dead.
They nearly kept on running, Lori unaware of anything else other than their need to get to a safer location when she was suddenly jerked to a stop by Lash putting on the emergency brakes. She glanced back to what had apparently caught the other woman’s attention. A girl. It was a girl Lori recognized.
Lori let go of the cat-woman’s hand and walked over to the girl tentatively, fearing what she might find there. The girl was a mess, completely bruised and battered. Lori put her hand on the girl’s wrist and gave a sigh of relief. There was a pulse. The girl was alive.
“I need to take her to a hospital,” Lori explained to the other woman, who seemed to be in a dazed state. Lori couldn’t blame her—she wasn’t exactly sure how they had survived either. The woman just nodded, and Lori picked up the girl, who was mercifully light, and lifted herself off the ground.
Lori took the air but flew low, trying not to draw too much attention to herself. “Wait here, in the shadows if you can. I’ll be right back.” She flew upward to leave but stopped, and turned her head back. “Please…what’s your name?”
The purple woman looked up at her and paused a moment. She was Zailash…and Tiaret. She hadn’t used her real name in so long…did she trust this woman other woman enough? She opened her mouth to speak.
Meanwhile, Culexes stood victoriously over the mass of rubble beneath his feet. There was no sight of either Lori Grant or Zailash anywhere, and Culexes was fairly certain the Meta Zailash couldn’t pass through walls, only go in them. He had won. Culexes raised a hand to his ear. “Objective complete. Target eliminated.”
Finale, Finally
29th November 2003 – 4:00pm – Potomac Airfield, Downtown Washington DC
Shakti smiled down at the canister before her. Mutaxin was an unpleasant compound. A mild hallucinogen with additional mutagenic properties it was fatal to a relatively small group of the population but that group invariably lacked the genetic basis for Metahuman traits and that made it the perfect chemical for the opening strike in a Meta-war.
The men and women around her, who even now were loading the canisters of the substance onto a half-dozen crop sprayers didn’t care about that. The reasons why this little mission was going to ignite a war didn’t concern them just that it would. The nanite filaments withdrew from the surface of the canister and Shakti wrapped her hands around the cold metal cylinder. Passing it to one of her followers who, in his foolish fanaticism, believed that the earth needed to be cleansed of humanity. She took hold of the next one. Her nanites extruded themselves again and began to convert the organic molecules within into the correct configuration.
While Shakti concentrated on creating the weapon for the strike, other Earthrage members went about their tasks. The six pilots checked the planes that would deliver the Mutaxin. Two men loaded the sprayers while another half dozen patrolled the perimeter. All were armed with energy pistols and near the centre of the airfield Shakti’s closest lieutenant cradled an energy rifle.
In Washington miles away from where an alien hybrid loaded chemical death on planes The open anger of the day before had withdrawn before the presence of the military. Every major intersection had its military presence and people shocked by the sudden occurrence withdrew to their homes.
The anger wasn’t gone though and in small gatherings here and there people nursed their grievances all it would take was a spark and Earthrage would again provide that spark. Through the early morning gloom another cell moved unlike their counterparts who’d attacked the meta-rally they were armed not with pistols but with more of Shakti’s rifles. Clad in bio mimetic polymer body suits they took up position near one of the military patrols.
****
Sol kept her attention on the surrounding city as they quickly passed through it, on their way to the airfield. The scenery sped by, as Sydney drove them towards their destination. Ric was beside Sol, her hand cradled in his. She was too distracted to really notice though.
*What are you doing?* Sol thought, grimacing as they passed yet another group of heavily armed U.S. soldiers. The capitol had become all but a police state after recent events, and the lockdown meant that no one could leave, not that Sol would have if she could have. Ultimately, this was the reason she'd donned that stupid costume in the Spring, to make a difference.
*If you go through with this, it changes everything,* Sol argued with herself. *This isn't small potatoes. This is a big, huge deal. You'll be bringing yourself to the attention of some serious whack jobs. Whatever is going on in this country now, these crackpots at the airfield, and others like them, they're not playing around. And they've got power. Who are you to be getting in the middle of this? Are you making a mistake here?*
Ric could feel the tension in Sol as she sat next to him. He knew she was probably doubting herself again. They'd talked so much recently about what was going on here in Washington, and he knew Sol felt she had to do something to try to ensure that everyone could live peaceably together. He hadn't argued with her, but deep down inside her opinion rankled. She was like him. She was different, better. So why did she feel the need to protect the very people who were more than willing, even eager, to try and take away their rights, to lock them up or control them?
Ric just couldn't understand that. To him, the things Jamie and the other "Spears" said made sense. They were the next phase in human evolution, after all, and they had a right, perhaps even a duty to fight for their place in society. If humans were going to hunt them, or hurt them, then the Spears would strike back. That was what they were intended to do. Ric believed that he and his friends were working towards the greater good. They were on the brink of a war with humanity, and in war you did what you had to in order to win.
"Sunshine, are you alright?" Ric leaned over, whispering to Sol.
"Hmm," Sol turned towards Ric, smiling weakly. "I'm okay. Sorry, I was just... somewhere else."
"You know, if you don't want to do this..." Ric's voice trailed off meaningfully.
"No," Sol said softly at first, and then with more conviction, "no. I do want to do this. I have to do this. It's the right thing. I guess I'm just a little freaked."
Ric nodded, bringing his arm around to cradle her shoulders. "That's cool," he said. "Perfectly natural."
Sol sighed. Despite her misgivings, this was the only place she could be. It was where her path had been leading her all along.
Sydney had to force down the urge to scoff at the little conversation between the girl and boy on the backseat. They were obviously too inexperienced to handle a situation of this magnitude and she couldn’t help but wonder why Mel had brought them along except for something pretty to look at before they all died.
She didn’t have anymore time to think about it though, as she heard James’ instructions through the wire in her ear. He and the rest of the VCLG were assembled in a mobile observation van central to the city. James had earlier planted a fake virus in his own DeltaNet computer network, disabling the system just long enough for him to commandeer usage of their transmission satellite, which was now positioned directly above them.
Under James’ instruction, Syd took a sharp right, the car’s tyres screeching on the asphalt as they swung out across the road before straightening up. Sydney grinned as she saw Mel’s grip on the dash tighten, her face looking a tad pale as Sydney’s foot pressed harder on the accelerator. According to James, the airfield shouldn’t be too far away and by that time it would be too late for doubts and concerns.
****
John Rhodes - Shakti’s lieutenant for this op smiled as he heard the Washington team report in. They’d started their attack on the offices of a pro meta lobbyist group and gone from there. It had been like poking a hornet’s nest with a stick. People pro and anti had come boiling out onto the streets and the military just hadn’t been equipped to deal with the sheer numbers. Of course every time the troops started to get themselves together one of his team popped up and blew a few of them away…. The damage was usually enough to destroy any coherence in the response. He’d no reports of the troops actually shooting anyone.
Not yet anyway.
“Washington is on schedule we have multiple riots in progress.” Rhodes switched his com to a military frequency and listened for a few seconds. Access to the other guy’s coms was always nice to have. “The Commander is starting to panic contradictory orders are going out on the net. We could fly a backfire bomber over the city and they wouldn’t notice.”
Shakti handed a subordinate the last canister. “Well we don’t have one. These will have to do.”
****
Sydney was an excellent driver fast and precise. Mel knew this but as the car whipped round another corner at nearly a hundred miles an hour she devoutly wished she’d flown. She just wasn’t cut out for high-speed travel with someone else in control
“Shit” James’ voice came over the radio in her ear. “Somebody just hit a riot control team, no energy weapons… Sounds like a group of metas. They’re retreating with… with half casualties.”
The tyres squealed again and Mel lost her grip on the dash as Sydney suddenly turned the car sideways. A beam of blue green light flicked out and blasted a chunk out of the road. “Everybody Out!”
As the small group poured out of the car Sydney was already loading up, unhitching her pistols and sending a shower of bullets across in the direction of the blast. “Fucking guards,” she muttered, yanking open the car’s trunk and grabbing the rest of her arsenal and ducking behind the axle for cover as she surveyed their opposition. “There’s six on the perimeter…” she said quietly, taking a quick peek through her binoculars before reaching for her shotgun.
Suddenly a whining noise filled the air, Sydney’s eyes widened as she noticed the high powered weaponry that the guards were carrying, no doubt the same that had nearly blown them off the road. Suddenly hiding behind the largest object on the horizon didn’t seem like such a good idea, “Oh shit, I think now would be a good time to scatter!” she yelled, grabbing her things as another beam of green light shot out above them, blowing another crater in the road just behind them.
Sol and Ric clambered out of the car and headed for cover quickly. Sol was appalled that Sydney had jumped out of the car with guns blazing, but it really wasn't the right time to question anyone's actions or motivation.
*Little late to worry about it now,* Sol thought to herself, quickly affixing her domino over her face. Beside her, Ric was doing the same. He was dressed all in black, in the style of a river boat gambler, complete with hat and all. He cowered next to Sol beside the car, pulling open the bag he'd picked up from Jamie before he'd met up with Sol. Inside were a couple of pistols, modified to fire some kind of energy, which one of the "Spears" had designed. There was also a small device Ric attached to his wrist, which generated a personal force field. Ric glanced up when the green light blew another crater in the road and figured the force field would probably not hold up against such a blast. Steeling himself, he took Sydney's advice, grabbing Sol's hand and running towards the crop of trees beside the road.
One of the guards took aim at Ric as he ran and squeezed the trigger, but the gun jammed unexpectedly. By the time he had sorted out his problem, Ric and Sol were hidden in the trees. "I can't just hide back here," Sol whispered harshly, cringing as the sounds of shots rang out around them. Ric nodded grimly and handed her one of the guns. Sol's face twisted up with distaste, but she took the proffered weapon.
Sol dashed out from behind the trees, and charged for one of the guards. He leveled the gun at her. Sol watched closely as she moved, and at the last possible moment dropped into a roll, dodging the energy blast and coming up on her knees inches from the guard. He was surprised and slow to react, as Sol sprang up and swung into a kick, attempting to knock the gun from his hands.
Sydney took aim and fired at one of the guards, watching the bullet rip through his clothing, splattering him with crimson as it penetrated his flesh. The force of the projectile made his body lurch backwards before he slumped to the floor dead. As another bolt of green energy missed her by mere inches Sydney ducked and rolled across the floor, grabbing her pistols and returning fire. Bullet cases rained down on the concrete as she regained her footing, charging the guard who had fired at her.
Sydney’s side of the car was facing the bad guys when she had slowed the car to a stop So Mel had a moment of cover as she exited the vehicle. She ignited her force-field during the roll. The light would make her a target but she wasn’t sure how much damage Sol and Ric could take and she knew Sydney was comparatively fragile.
The percussive cracks of Sydney’s guns sounded out and Mel stood up flinging an explosive sphere into the ground just in front of one of the guards. The collision hammered the man backwards but at least the wash of energy probably hadn’t killed him. Not that that seemed quite as important when they were trying to kill her. Sym hadn’t been clear on just how dangerous the energy beams were, instead she’d just advised not getting hit.
Shakti cursed as she heard the screech of tyres and the sound of gunfire. “Get those airborne now!” She shouted then pulled her own weapon and nodded to Rhodes He hefted his own rifle and began to make his way towards the perimeter. The rifle would give his position away but at least he’d be able to slow down these meddlesome heroes.
Mel threw another sphere to keep a couple of guard’s heads down as she manoeuvred onto the airfield trying to catch them in the crossfire between herself and Sydney. Suddenly a guard popped up to Mel’s left and Mel exploded upwards her wings taking shape instantly as the beam blasted through the space she’d been mere moments before.
Ric had watched Sol take off towards one of the guards, and decided she could probably handle herself, as uncomfortable as he might be with the idea. He carefully made his way around the trees, and caught sight of the guard who had fired at him a few moments before. With a grim smile, he started purposefully towards the man, who was so shocked that at first he didn't react. Ric levelled the energy pistol he was holding and aimed for the guard’s arm, hoping to incapacitate the guy without actually killing him.
*Although I will if I have to,* Ric thought, as he fired.
The guard facing Ric scrabbled to raise his gun, but slipped suddenly on some gravel as Ric fired at him. The shot hit him squarely in the shoulder and the guard’s pistol fell to the ground as he doubled over. His arm obliterated.
Sol faced the now unarmed guard, his gun a few feet away. She'd tucked the one Ric gave her into the waistband of her skirt, and instead struck out with her bare hand at the man in front of her. She was careful to restrain the punch, wanting to knock him out without knocking his head off his shoulders. The guard raised his arm and blocked the blow but staggering back at the impact.
Sol wasn't about to give up the advantage. She rushed forward, charging the man and knocking him completely off his feet. Then she fell upon him, straddling his waist as he struggled. Sol rained blow after blow upon him, frustrated and enraged that he and people like him had forced them to this. Finally, she came to her senses and pulled back. The man before her was badly beaten and unconscious. Sol rose, panting, to her feet, embarrassed at her loss of control. She didn't have time to really worry over it though, as a blast of green energy from the man holding the rifle suddenly exploded near her, knocking her off her feet.
The growl of aircraft engines drifted across the airfield but right now Mel didn’t really have time to notice for as soon as she’d gotten airborne three separate beams had cleaved the air around her.
She jinked madly and those energy guns lashed the sky. Diving for the ground she pulled up barely ten feet from the ground and blasted out an energy beam of her own. Silver fire carved the ground asunder as Mel flew straight over one of the guards. He never stood a chance and Mel spared him barely a thought - too many lives were at risk. With one last fillip Mel somersaulted in the air and landed. Just in time for a beam rifle to blast the sapling next to her to flaming pieces. Ducking to one side while blindly flinging a ball of fire towards the shoot Mel did her best to avoid getting shot.
Sydney lifted her knee to connect with the guard’s groin, hearing him utter a string of abuse she dealt him a hard kick to the chest, breaking several ribs and sending him sprawling on the ground. She raised her pistol and shot him squarely between the eyes, silencing his groans in an instant. Sydney reached down, picking up the weapon and ripping it from the dead man’s grip. “Hmm,” she said with interest as she turned the weapon over in her hands, “oh I think Christmas has come early this year.”
She aimed the weapon at a truck parked up on the airfield before taking a shot. The green blue beam shot out, hitting the vehicle’s fuel tank and igniting the flammable liquid. The truck exploded in a ball of fire, sending pieces of burning metal flying across the way. Sydney raised an eyebrow in surprise then shrugged, “hmmm, not bad.”
Sol made a break from the main fight. The true objective was the airstrip and the madness about to be launched from it. She could tell that the guards here were being dealt with, so she made the decision to take the offensive deeper in. Sol was scared, but also strangely exhilarated. It felt good to let loose and use the powers she had to really make a difference.
As Sol ran forward, she became aware of the rhythmic sounds of helicopters coming from somewhere nearby. She paused and glanced up at the sky just as two huge, black helicopters came into view over the airfield. Each had a man balanced behind a large gun just within the open door.
"Oh...crap," Sol spat, turning her attention fully on this new menace.
Sydney saw the cheerleader girl heading up towards the airfield and smiled *Well the kid sure has balls, you have to give her that.*
Out of the corner of her eye she saw one of the guards levelling up a shot at the Prom Queen. Syd quickly spun around dealing a hard kick to his chest that left him choking and wheezing for breath before she grabbed hold of him around the head and twisted sharply. The man’s neck emitted a sickening CRACK as his spinal column was severed in two.
Suddenly a loud roaring noise ripped through the air and Sydney turned, drawing her guns at the crimson suited man who skidded his motorcycle to a halt just a few feet from where she stood.
“Eric!” she said in surprise, “nice of you to show up.”
Eric flipped up the dark visor of his cycle helmet, a grin curling his lips though it was barely perceptible. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed the young boy struggling to take on the two remaining foot soldiers. He revved up the engine of his bike, speeding towards the trio and drumming on the brakes, spinning the bike so that it hit the first guard with marked precision. He was about to turn his attention on the second who had the young boy in a deadly grip around his neck when he suddenly fell to the floor, his blood spattering across Ric’s face as his head was blown to pieces.
Sydney looked down the barrel of her gun at the shot she had just made, the young boy and Eric both staring at her in incredulity.
"Nice shot," Ric stammered slightly, but struggled to recover his cool. It wasn't everyday he got blasted with brain matter. "Did you... maybe consider you might have missed?"
Sydney replaced her gun unaffectedly as she joined them. “Don’t worry,” she said with a smirk, “I never miss.”
“Looks like the rest of your friends could do with a hand,” Eric said, nodding at the two women who had gone on ahead.
Sydney turned to see two black helicopters rise up into the sky. “I think you’re right,” she said, climbing onto the back of the motorcycle and holding on to Eric as he revved the engine. Ric looked on in shock before he hurried to jump on the very back, wrapping his arms around the woman tightly as they sped off towards the airfield.
The Fixer sat in front of the Blackhawk helicopter, looking down at the airfield. With the amount of chaos going on in the air control over Washington is was easy enough to operate undetected. All he had to do was keep radio silence until they showed up, and then they would be free to make the move to keep those planes on the ground. Fixer reached over for the microphone, the flight would be registered at least.
“This is Captain Peterson,” he said into the microphone, using the codename he was given. “We’re on approach to Potomac. Airfield is under attack, repeat airfield is under attack.”
That would alert the military to the situation, they would probably be slow to respond. He smiled as he looked down at the men on the ground, noticing Mel and people who were probably her allies. A group was in the middle of rushing for the planes. “Let’s make a pass at that group,” he pointed, making a quick transmission to the other chopper.
Fixer felt the Blackhawk accelerate before the familiar sound of machine gun fire came. *We should have brought an Apache* he thought, before noticing the green beams lancing up in the air. “Fuck! Don’t get hit!” he yelled.
“I’m trying not to,” the pilot snapped back, as another rifle shot joined the barrage in the air.
The sudden arrival of two helicopters was enough distraction for Mel and as the remaining guards switched their attention to the machines. She got herself airborne again.
The helicopters were armed and as Earthrage’s planes taxied for the runway the hiss of rockets firing momentarily cut through the noise of the battle before ending in an explosive boom.
The first volley of rockets went astray as the helicopter pilot was forced to dodge an energy blast. But even so a rocket struck one of the planes sending a pillar of fire and greasy smoke into the air. Mel winced as a second beam came far too close to the larger less nimble targets, deciding they needed some form of covering fire she swooped for the remaining guards, jinking all the way in and leaving a half dozen spheres to rain down on them.
Shakti grimaced at the sharp cracks of that damn guardians spheres exploding around her. Raising her own pistol - Heavier and far more advanced than the ones her pawns carried. She took careful aim at the nose of one of the choppers and fired.
Fixer watched the chaos on the ground with a certain amount of satisfaction, the Earthrage people going down. The other chopper would be out of rockets. “Cover me,” he transmitted in the mike, “starting our attack run.” He worked the controls as best he could, getting ready to fire when the sound of the other chopper going down sounded.
*Shit.* he thought. The men in there had been a couple of the best, too. Not wasting any time, he emptied the rocket pod onto the runway. If they couldn’t destroy the planes, they could make take-off a lot harder. Fixer reached behind him for the small energy pistol. “Set us down.” A quick glance to the other side made him want to bang his head on the window. There was a second runway.
*Rockets, energy pistols, and sprays of bullets, oh my!* Sol thought, as she nimbly dodged the bolts being fired at her by one of the guards. The whole scene was degenerating quickly into chaos, but she tried to stay focused. When one of the helicopters was hit with a big energy blast and went down, Sol swore aloud.
*No matter what side they're on, every death matters,* Sol was finally in range of the guard firing at her. A look of grim determination on her face, she ducked and swept out with a kick, knocking the man to the floor, and his gun out of his hand. Sol grappled with the prone man for a few moments, and feeling the warm energy suffuse her hands, finally landed a blow that knocked him unconscious.
Turning back to the fray, she was dismayed to see that although rockets had decimated the nearest runway, the planes were simply beginning to taxi off towards the other one. *I can't take out a plane...or stop one when it gets off the ground, so...* Sol debated for a moment, and then, raced off towards one of the flying machines, trying to come up with a workable plan in a hurry.
“I think this is where you get off,” Sydney said to Ric as they pulled to a stop, watching the rest of the aeroplanes as they turned, heading towards the clear runway and getting ready for take off. “We need to stop those planes,” she said determinedly, watching Mel in the sky as she swerved about, the blue bolts of energy she’d witnessed earlier aimed directly at the second chopper.
Eric grinned, reading Sydney’s intent clearly. “Hold on tight,” he warned as he revved up the engine of the bike, the accelerator whining as they took off in the direction of the runway. “We’re going after them.”
Sydney wrapped her arms tightly around Eric’s leather-clad chest as the bike accelerated powerfully, zipping along the asphalt at high speed. “We need to go faster!” she shouted above the noise as they practically flew across the runway towards the retreating planes.
“Don’t worry!” yelled back Eric as he flipped back a switch on his motorcycle’s dash. “This model comes equipped with more than a few modifications…”
He quickly pressed a button, initiating the bike’s turbo engine. Sydney had to hold on tighter as they practically flew across the runway, getting closer and closer to the convoy of aircraft.
“Take me up level to that last one,” she instructed carefully, loosening her grip on Eric as she prepared herself. As they came up to the side of the cockpit she cautiously scooted her feet up on the seat getting into a crouched position. “Steady… steady on there!” she warned as Eric swerved dangerously to the left, the turbo engines dying down a bit.
Sydney balanced on the back of the seat, her eyes on the door of the plane as they straightened out again. With one courageous leap she landed on the side of the aircraft, yanking the door open. She smiled at the alarmed pilot before delivering a hard punch to his head. “Mind terribly if I drive?”
Fixer moved to the door on the way out, ducking a moment before an energy beam connected with him. A scream came from behind, a glance back confirming that the gunner was hit, leaving a gaping hole in his chest. "Oh my god!" Chimera said.
"Try not to get hit," Fixer said coldly, returning a shot from his pistol. The fact that an energy beam returned fire confused them momentarily to be able to get out, as the chopper took off for the other runway. That was before the rifle blast hit the controls for the propellers, sending it down.
Fixer watched the group heading for the runway, they looked like they should have the firepower to stop the take-off. That freed them up for the other part of the mission. "Let them worry about the planes," he ordered. "Our priority is to find Shakti."
Rhodes smiled grimly as the second chopper crashed to the ground. “It seems our comms. were as secure as you thought.”
“Evidently,” Shakti noted the energy beam returning fire and shrugged. It was always a possibility that the weapons would be used against her. Still it would be nice to know who had penetrated her codes. She queried her internal systems and the weapons around her emitted their transponder codes. Shakti filed the data away then fired a burst from her pistol. Looking around she realised most of her ‘troops’ were down and it looked liked the ‘heroes’ of the piece had enough force to stop the planes.
*That guardian flying around will stop them even if they do get airborne.* She looked at her compatriot. “We need to get out of here..” A second burst took one of the new arrivals in the leg practically ripping the limb off. Unfortunately, as far as
Shakti was concerned, they didn’t seem to be a meta.
Mel surveyed the battlefield from on high thankful that no one was shooting at her. Sol and Sydney were heading for the aircraft but that left three more to deal with. She thought she saw Fixer getting out of one of the helicopters so she assumed Observer had sent back up. They were dealing with the remaining Earthrage terrorists but seemed to be ignoring the planes
*Looks like the planes are my job then.” Mel dived for the runway seeking to get ahead of the crop dusters. She flipped over in mid-air and blasted her energy beam straight into the concrete while she played ‘chicken’ with the pilot of the first.
Sydney punched at the pilot again and his head reeled, snapping back with the power of her brute strength. Sydney pulled his lifeless body from the cockpit and took the seat, flipping a few switches before slowing the aircraft, turning it across the runway as the wheels screeched to a stop. *Well, one down…* she thought as she saw the gold-clad cheerleader taking on another of the planes… *Still, three more to go…*
Suddenly gunfire ripped through the thin metal of the plane, forcing Syd to bail out quickly, pistols already drawn as she jumped out onto the runway. A truck holding several guards was already pulling up behind the plane, weapons at the ready. Eric had taken a spot behind the wing and was already returning fire.
*Guess it’s up to the others now,* thought Sydney worriedly as she faced the new threat. It was obvious they weren’t going anywhere near the other planes just yet.
Sol finally managed to reach the plane, coming abreast of the door on the side. She grabbed hold of the wing, and swung her legs up just managing to get a foothold inside the open door on the side of the aircraft. Breathing deeply, Sol scrambled to her feet, and moved the few steps forward towards the cockpit, where the lone pilot was as yet unaware of her presence. Sol reached forward and tapped the surprised man on the shoulder. He turned his head just as she struck, her fist flying at his face and knocking him unconscious.
Sol pulled the pilot from his seat and dumped him in the hold as quickly as possible. She sat down and stared in dismay at the control panel before her. *I don’t know how to fly a plane,* she thought. *Or even how to stop one. What do I do now?*
Glancing up at the window, Sol could see that the runway spread out before her and that the plane was speeding along it. She had no idea what to do to stop herself, and she would soon be crashing into the grass and brush just beyond.
Squeezing her eyes shut and concentrating with all her might, Sol reached out and placed both hands on the control panel before her. She had never managed to do this before, but if there was ever a time for her solar charge to work, then now was that time.
Sol opened her eyes and willed the energy inside of her to flow from her fingertips. She was rewarded, after a few moments, with the bright, white glow as the solar energy within her flowed out, heating the plane’s controls and spreading throughout the crop plane’s frame. The heat caused every component to fuse and melt, including the plane’s wheels.
From outside, the others saw the plane engulfed in light and then come to a smoking, skidding stop near the end of the runway. Blackjack had been dodging blasts from energy pistols, but he stopped at the sight.
“Sundance!” he yelled, heading towards the plane. The last he’d seen, Sol had gone inside and now, as the energy dissipated, he could see the blackened shell that remained. Terrified, he raced forward, praying she was alright.
William had managed to locate one of the troops who was still alive, and presently held him against the wall. "Shakti!" Fixer yelled as Chimera held him. "Where is she?" All the 'soldier' did was wimper at the realisation that he was being held by someone with a murderous look one his face. Then the next thing he knew he was on the ground as a gun was placed against the back of his head.
"Alright, alright, just don't kill me!" he screamed. "C-c-car, for getaway." Chimera gave a questioning glance towards the Fixer before the latter fired, casually terminating the man's life.
"Well, you heard him, let's go."
They reached the most likely place in time to see a couple of people getting into a car to try to escape. Fixer raised his pistol to fire, getting the last guard who was preparing to get into the car.
Shakti cursed nothing seemed to be going right today. She threw open the door twisted round at brought up her targeting schematics.. The first bolt took the overgrown ape to the left of the shooter right in the X-ring. The massive energy discharge vaporised his tissues and blew the ribcage to pieces. Her second bolt tore through the space suddenly vacated by the Fixer and her third some how missed as well.
Shakti fired twice more but each time somehow her target managed to twist aware from her beams despite her targeting systems. Her final blast went astray As Rhodes stomped on the accelerator and the car screamed away.
Fixer let out an inhuman scream as Shakti escaped again. This was twice now the woman had evaded him. turning back to Chimera, he noticed the man's body on the ground. His head was still in tact as were the arms, it was just that there was nothing to connect them. "Now that's going to hurt when we bring you back," he said, remembering some of the complaints of the first successful test, feeling a little morbid as he picked up the now-severed head to take off the field of battle.
Sydney and Eric both returned fire, empty bullet cases showered on the floor by Sydney’s feet while Eric’s weapon discharged round after round of energy bolts.
“This is useless,” mumbled Eric at the futility of their stand off, “we’re going to have to get a better hit on these guys before one of us runs out of ammo.”
“Just a minute…” muttered Syd as she fumbled with the laser weapon she had ‘liberated’ earlier from the corpse. “Technology… never works when you need it… Eric no!”
Sydney dropped the laser as she saw Eric duck out from his hiding place over to his motorcycle. Minutes later it roared to life and Eric zoomed down the runway, his weapons trained on the truck as he bolted towards the small resistance.
“Fuck, Eric… can’t you do as you’re told!” Sydney growled in irritation, drawing her guns and lining up across the plane’s wing to give him some cover. “I hope you know what you’re doing…”
The bike zoomed down the runway, green bolts of energy flying from his gun as he trailed the truck. It was no use though; at this rate, their exchange of gunfire would eventually hit a plane and release the Mutaxin – He couldn’t let that happen, he had to st…
“ACK!”
The pistol flew from his grasp, as one of the stray bullets finally managed to hit its target. *Fuck* . Wincing through the pain, Eric’s bloody hand strayed back to the handlebars of the bike, and twisted, urging the vehicle faster. Although he was now weapon less, he was far from helpless.
Raising his good hand, Eric outstretched his mental abilities, blocking the bullets as he shortened the gap between himself and the enemies. Once he was in range, he shifted the telekinesis, concentrating on the fuel tank.
“What the hell is the freak doing?” One of the men in the truck yelled, as he quickly reloaded his gun.
He never took another shot; a second later, the fuel tank erupted, causing the whole truck to explode violently, taking out those inside, as well as several surrounding foot soldiers.
The small victory didn’t come without a price however. Having used most of his powers on taking out the truck, Eric had no energy left to shield himself from the impact of the blast.
As if in slow motion, Sydney gasped as Eric’s helpless figure was brutally propelled from his bike, only to land a good 30 feet back, and roll another 10-15 feet for good measure.
The Red Avenger did not move.
“Oh God…” Sydney gasped, as she rushed over and knelt by Eric’s side, not sure whether she should move him or not. “Eric? ERIC!?” she shouted, unnerved by his silence. A small tear crept into the side of her eye as she checked his pulse, he was alive. Just. “Oh God…Eric.”
Ric finally reached the wreckage of the plane Sol had disappeared inside. He climbed in, unaware of the potential danger as the heated fuel climbed towards a critical temperature. He picked his way through the debris, finally coming to the pilots chair, where Sol sat slumped over, her face sooty and pale. She was out cold.
Ric grabbed hold of Sol, and lifted her from the plane, struggling with her weight. He managed to carry her to what was left of the door and jumped down, carefully watching for any stray energy bolts. He got her away from the runway, carrying her to a group of barrels on the side and setting her down. He knelt beside her, jumping up at the sound of an explosion, as the fuel in the plane finally ignited.
“Thank heaven for my luck,” Ric muttered, turning back to where Sol lay, still unmoving. He hunkered down to await the end of the battle, cradling Sol’s head in his lap. She’d done all she could, and he wasn’t about to leave her alone.
Mel rose up over the lead plane just before it struck her, playing her energy lance over the fragile structure. The beam burned through metal severing control and fuel lines. The explosion took her by surprise and flung Mel upwards the sudden heat of the fire surrounding her.
It took mere moments to clear the cloud of fire and smoke but by the time she did the other two planes had manoeuvred around her first target and were accelerating up the runway. Mel dove back down but as the aircraft picked up speed her rate of closure dropped precipitously.
Then there was that moment when the vehicles seemed to be floating and Mel realised she wasn’t going to get any closer. The lance wouldn’t reach that was obvious so with fingertips outstretched Mel sent sphere after sphere towards the tail of the rearmost. The explosions buffeted the aircraft but little more and Mel wept in frustration as the two planes peeled apart. She couldn’t get any closer and she couldn’t reach them with her blasts.
*Is this it Mel? Is this all you’ve got? How many are going to die Mel how many are going to suck that poison into their lungs and die? What about Nic? Are you going to let her die Mel? Are you?*
“Damn You! Damn you all!” Mel screamed and suddenly her wings snapped backwards with a brilliant flash. The plane grew in Mel’s vision and she snarled in victory. Practically touching the tailplane Mel lashed out with her lance and punched a meter wide whole down the length of the entire aircraft.
This time the explosion was no surprise and Mel’s shining form lanced through the black smoke. Streaking upward still ridden by her rage Mel cast around for the second plane that had gotten off the ground.
*There!* Like a peregrine stooping on her prey Mel descended on the last threat to the city but even then she realised it was too late. Trailing behind to plane were white wisps, the Mutaxin dispersing invisibly in the air to float downwards and poison the innocents below.
A sphere blazed from Mel’s hands sparkling even in the daylight. It struck the plane at the junction of wing and fuselage and the explosion tore one from the other. Mel followed the wreckage down sending sphere after sphere into the wreckage until the fuel ignited and fire blossomed in the air to burned the poison away.
CROSSOVER SERIES ONE: NOVEMBER 16, 2003 TO MARCH 31, 2004
The Story of the Century
Royal Hilton Hotel, Lori Grant’s suite
5:35pm
“We have further reports now,” said the man. “A final drive by the security bots was made against the police, to clear the way for a helicopter to land. We do not know precisely what happened to the alleged conspirators who attacked the conference, except that security systems were unable to track the helicopter. Reports indicate that 11 officers are dead, and another 24 wounded in resisting the security bots. CEO Henry Morgan of Zyrcom and Vice President of Security Thomas Greene have gone missing as well, Morgan allegedly taken by the terrorists along with three other delegates.
“City officials have announced their intention to find the people responsible for this, initiating further travel restrictions on secured areas of the city. Sweeps have been announced in at least one area already, going house to house in an attempt to search out the terrorists. More on the situation as it develops….”
Lori Grant hit the off switch on her remote control out of disgust. Of course this was happening. Had anybody really thought that a conference being held in Washington DC that could decide that fate of meta-humans was going to go down peacefully? The riots and protests were enough alone, but now that terrorists were added to the mix (Meta terrorists, she added to herself), Washington was a war-zone. And here she was, resident super-hero of Crystal City and she has done nothing.
But what could she do?
Lori was lying on a luxurious pink bed that made her feel right at home and in a foreign place at the same time. She missed her house, but more importantly she missed Bonnie and Janie and fighting crime. She couldn’t very well go out as Spectrum. It was public that Lori Grant was in the city. If Spectrum was to also appear, everyone would be suspicious and it would only be a matter of time before she got caught.
Instead of sitting around and wallowing in a mixture of self-pity and disgust at the world, as she had been doing for the past 4 days since she arrived, Lori made the shocking decision to go out and get something to eat. Anything to break the overwhelming monotony.
Putting on a perfectly made fake fur coat (she had long since stopped wearing the real ones after Janie had started her environmentalist craze that had never stopped), Lori stepped into a pair of posh shoes and opened her door. There, standing ever vigilant, was one of her many bodyguards, Trent Barton.
“Hello Mr. Barton,” Lori said pleasantly. Although she was not nice to any of her business partners, managers or anybody else in an important position, it was an inside joke to all those in small, seemingly lesser jobs such as bodyguard or secretary that she was really as sweet as sugar. Trent Barton was one of the many underlings who always mused in silence that, after offering her condolences about their sick spouses or complimenting them on their choice of clothes, she swiftly turned around and played the part of “rich bitch” to anybody important. “How are we this evening?”
“We are fine,” Trent answered with a smile, “although we would not advise going down right now.”
“Oh?” Lori asked with an equally infectious smile, “And why would we not advise this?”
“There are a lot of reporters down there Miss Grant.” Trent answered in all seriousness. “Everything gone hay-wire all day and the press is going nuts. Mr. Brodworth asked me to make sure you didn’t go down there until everything died down.”
Lori frowned. It was a sad day when Lori Grant couldn’t even go out to eat, but it was a cold in hell before she let Adrian Brodworth dictate what she did and when she did it. She smiled, her face a glow, and she said, “Well now Trent I know this may come as a shock to you, but I don’t always listen to what Mr. Brodworth says.” Trent smiled, not at all shocked. “I don’t think it would be to much for me to just sneak down and have a little something to eat do you? I’m just so tired of room service, and besides… I’d have a strong guy like you to protect me!”
Trent’s smile grew. As she wasn’t an unattractive woman by any extent of the imagination, he couldn’t help but enjoy when she flirted with him, even if she was only joking. Well, as long as his wife didn’t hear! “Of course Miss Grant.”
“As I’ve told you many times before, call me Lori.”
Lori made her way down the hall, Trent ever present behind her. When she got to the elevator, she secretly enjoyed having him push the button for her. She also enjoyed the fact that he pressed the correct button inside the elevator, when she dictated “lobby please” to him. What she enjoyed much less was….
…was the storm of reporters that greeted her when she got to the lobby. It literally looked as though the gates of hell had opened and all the reporters in it had escaped and sought her out. At her entrance, there was a momentary silence as her face was recognized, and then a hail of shouts and a holler of “Miss Grants!” came at her. Adrian Brodworth was already there, and his face fell when he recognized his boss.
“You said there were reporters, you didn’t say there was a sea of them!” Lori hissed at Trent, knowing fully that she was being unfair. He probably couldn’t have stopped her even if he had tried.
“There weren’t this many when I was down here before!” Trent apologized, and stepped in front of Lori as a reflex.
“Please, Miss Grant has no time to answer questions!” Adrian pleaded, backing up to where Lori was. He turned around and snarled at Trent, “I told you not to let her down here!”
Lori glared at him and said, “Adrian, the next time you have something to tell me tell me to my face, don’t give order to keep me captive.” Adrian’s face became aghast, as he generally tried his hardest to please Lori Grant and kiss up to her. Before he could apologize though, she spoke again. “Now what are all these reporters doing here? It’s not as if it’s a slow news day. Why do they want my opinion so much?”
The reporters were trapped behind a line of security guards, many of who were employed by Grant Industries rather than the hotel. “The head of Zyrcom was just kidnapped!” Adrian exclaimed, “You’re the head of Grant Industries! I assume their here to be witnesses in case terrorists kidnap you too!”
Lori blushed, ashamed that the thought of danger had not occurred to her. She pulled Adrian close and said, “Tell them I think this whole thing concerning the terrorists is appalling and I hope that they are brought to justice, and that I have no comment on anything else.” She spun around and commanded, “Come Trent.” Like a dog obeying its master, Trent followed her back into the elevator.
Back in front of her room, Lori apologized to her bodyguard by saying, “I’m sorry I snapped at you. I was just…surprised.”
“That’s alright Miss Grant. Nothing to worry about.”
“Well alright then… now I do have one request. I don’t want to be disturbed for anything less than a grade A emergency. If anybody comes through that door, there had better be armed terrorists after me and nothing less.” She smiled after she said this, signifying that she was only being half-serious.
“Yes Miss Grant.”
Lori entered her suite and pulled off her fake fur, casually throwing it on the floor. She flopped back on her bed. After a moments thought, she whipped out her cell phone and dialed her home number. After 3 rings, Janie answered.
“Hello? Grant residence.” Janie said from the other end.
“Hey Janie, it’s Lori.”
“Lori! Oh I’m so glad you called!” Janie sounded genuinely excited. “I’ve been watching the news all day! With all this crazy stuff going on I was almost sure you were in trouble!”
“Well I wish I could be doing something. I can’t,” she lowered her voice, in case Trent was listening. She also knew her room was probably video taped as a security measure, but she wasn’t sure if the audio was being taped. Just to be sure, she put her head under a group of fluffy pillows as though she was crying under them. “I can’t turn into Spectrum otherwise somebody would make the connection that Spectrum is me.”
“Well… you know, you don’t have to be Spectrum.”
“What?”
“I mean, you can use your powers without becoming Spectrum. Why don’t you make up a different costume? I know you must have some clothes that you could use…”
Lori did indeed have a lot of clothes. As was usual for somebody of her wealth, she had brought a good margin of her wardrobe with her. This included a number of tight, black numbers that could be good if she needed to sneak around in the dark. Janie was right; she didn’t need to make a spectacle just to go out and use her powers.
“That’s true… well I’ll think about it. I don’t know if I’ll be able to get past the legion of reporters that seem to be after me though. God it’s a nightmare.” Lori paused, and then said, “How’s Bonnie doing?”
“Oh, she’s fine. We’ve had no “accidents” since you left. She’s been watching the news with me, although I think she’s been calmer about the whole thing than I have.”
“Oh… well that’s good. Anyways, I think I should get going. I’m sure some other insane affair will happen sooner or later so I want to watch the news some more.”
“Alright. I hope you come home soon though. I kinda miss my small and badly decorated house!”
Lori laughed and said, “Okay Janie, bye now.” She hung up the phone and sighed. A different costume…
***
10:55 PM
Although the front of the Royal Hilton Hotel was a blitz of excitement and cars (although both had died down since earlier. Nothing exciting had happened, and Washington was full of stories that needed to be covered), the back was mostly tranquil. The pool area was empty except for two young lovers splashing each other in the water. Neither of them saw the black clad figure doing its best to not to be seen.
Lori had taken Janie’s advice and created a second costume. It was nothing special, just a tight black shirt covered by an expensive leather jacket that looked just ragged enough to pass off as inexpensive in the dark. Lori’s hair was tied in a bun and hidden by a black baseball cap. Despite the fact that it was a baseball cap, it had the Devil’s symbol on it; New Jersey’s hockey team. Lori was not a hockey fan, or a fan of any sport other than figure skating, but publicly stating that she was a Devil’s fan had not hurt her career at all, especially in a city full of avid hockey lovers. She wore simple black boots and tight black wants and black leather gloves. To top it off, she wore a pair of trick sunglasses: they looked like sunglasses but from her side she could see as clear as if they were regular glasses.
She prayed that nobody would recognize her.
Making her way through the shadows to the deep rear of the hotel’s property, Lori came to a metal fence. She started to climb it, and when she got to the stop, used her power of light to lift her over and onto the other side. From there, she went through the nearby alley way in search of somebody who might need her help in the city which had gone crazy.
The lovers in the pool saw a brief flash of light behind them. They got out of the pool and dried off. It was probably nothing, but with all the Meta’s about… well, it just might be safer to stay inside.
Syd Gets Ill
Sunday, 23 November 2003 – 1:44am
Holiday Inn – Washington DC
It was early morning when they arrived back in Washington. James knew it wasn’t safe to take Sydney back to their hotel so he’d booked a room at a local Holiday Inn for a few days as a precaution. Looking at her now he was glad that he’d had such foresight. Despite her protests that she was okay he knew it was a lie. Since leaving the safe house she’d grown much worse, she looked drawn and utterly exhausted in a way he’d never seen in Sydney before.
James led the way up to the hotel room, the corridors were silent for the unsociable hour and he swiftly unlocked the door and threw on the light. The room wasn’t nearly as luxurious as the Ritz but that didn’t matter, they just needed somewhere Syd could lie low and get some rest without arousing any suspicion. James strode into the room and drew the curtains closed before switching on any more light.
Sydney stumbled into the room and closed the door. That weary, closed off feeling she’d felt for the past few hours had increased to the point that she could barely focus anymore. She took a few more steps, swaying uneasily as she noticed a spot of blood drop onto her shirt.
“Damn,” Sydney swore to herself as she reached up and felt her nose was bleeding. She held her bloody hand out in front of her, noticing how her fingers were beginning to shake uncontrollably.
James turned around just as she began to fall. He darted over to her, catching her in his arms before she hit the floor. His face blanched in a state of shock as he held her, Sydney was barely conscious and her body was beginning to convulse uncontrollably.
“Sydney?!” he called in alarm, laying her out on the floor carefully. “SYDNEY!! Can you hear me?”
She opened her eyes weakly, seeing James hovering above her in a blur of hazy, swaying colours. She gasped aloud, her eyes wide as her body continued to seizure.
“What do I do?” James asked urgently, his mind was racing, trying to think of what could be wrong. *Damn you Sydney!* he though in frustration, he should have insisted she let the doctor check her.
“T- tr- tryptophan, p-pocket,” she forced out between convulsions. She was perspiring badly, her skin glistening with the extra moisture.
James nodded; patting down her clothes to find whatever it was she was talking about. He suddenly hit his head in stupification, of course she wouldn’t have it on her, the last time she’d left the hotel was to meet with Melissa Hartson two days ago. It was then that he noticed her hand, pointing towards the bag he had brought that contained some of her stuff.
He rushed over to it, throwing out things as he checked all the available pockets. It wasn’t until he found her old army coat that his fingers came across a small cylindrical jar. He pulled it out; the label read simply ‘Triptophan’.
James darted back over to where Syd lay. She was gasping for air now as her seizure took its hold. He held her up, pressing a couple of the white pills into her mouth and lifting her head up as he offered her a sip of water to help swallow them down.
It was just a matter of time then, he waited while Sydney’s body continued to jerk with a series of convulsions growing less intense as the minutes passed. Finally she appeared to calm, her seizure slowly coming to a stop. He sighed in relief.
Sydney looked up at him, her eyes dark with lack of sleep looking even worse in contrast to her pallid complexion. “I… I… don’t feel too good,” she forced out, shivering a little as the sweat began to evaporate from her skin. She’d had similar attacks before but nothing quite as severe.
James observed her quietly for a moment; his heart was still racing from the intensity of that moment. He brushed her damp hair back from her face, “It’s alright,” he said soothingly, “I’m going to take care of you Syd.”
Your Friendly Neighbourhood AI
Sunday, 23 November 2003 – 5:00am
Sara examined the reports sent to her systems. She would have to be careful if she had to deliberately destroy her lab again to not make the explosion quite so dramatic. It made the ‘Wyatt’ body more dead was than was certainly required, and as for her own… to repair all the damage would take a while. Her left arm would have to be completely replaced; servo controls to the lower half of her body were shot; the power generator had to be shut off lest it overheat and explode with the coolant leak; and then there were the burns on the skin.
Observer seemed almost panicked when he realised the extent of what had happened, and now she currently was trying to lay out precisely what ‘occurred’ in the lab when the ‘failed experiment’ went on. And on top of that, they roused Tucker from his bed to help explain the situation away. This left the producer taking a great deal of pride in his work and distracting Observer even further. The window was small, but it was possible…
Sara accessed the small bit of the hacking module that had been made available to her to help in communications. All she had to do was hope that her call was not being traced or recorded. Dialling Gates’ number, she hardly hesitated at all when he answered, sending the signals.
“Mr. Gates,” she began. “This is Sara. I trust that Sydney has contacted you?”
James almost jumped out of his skin as the telephone began to ring, rousing him from his slumber. Picking up the handset he was surprised to hear the familiar female voice on the other end. At the mention of her name he glanced over at the bed where Sydney slept, wrapped warmly in the thin sheets.
He turned away and held his hand over the mouthpiece, not wishing to disturb her. "Yes?" he said briefly, it was enough perhaps to confirm the woman's question without being specific. At the safe house Sydney had said enough about what she knew of Sara and Observer to make him wary of any telephone call.
Sara did take the reply as a confirmation that Sydney had been in contact with him, figuring that any stress in his voice had to be because he now knew the truth of their existence as well. It would have been enough to probably get his attention.
"I do not know how long I have without risking detection, but we are safe for now. Please let Sydney know that her father should be safe and hopefully making contact with you shortly."
James nodded his head, taking another glance over at Sydney as she moaned a little, rolling over in the bed. He caught a glimpse of her weary face but was glad to see that she looked perhaps a little better, he hoped that wasn’t just wishful thinking on his part. Suddenly he was hit by the thought that the doctor Avery Wyatt might be able to help her, he did 'create' her after all.
"She'll be glad to know that," he answered finally. It was strange, he felt so on edge talking on the phone when he knew they could be being listened to, that some computer could be analysing every word, it was one of his worst conspiracy theories come true. *This is worse than bloody ECHELON!* he thought dismally, a computer… with ‘personality’.
Sara relaxed some; her analysis of her brief time with Sydney made her wonder if the woman wouldn't do something rash just to spite her. As her focus returned to the conversation, she passed on the caution she had to give. "James, do not mention he is alive in any electronic conversation. Observer now believes Wyatt is deceased." She stopped for a moment, unsure exactly of what to say next. Then she thought back. "Tell Sydney I'm sorry. I should have made my intentions to help her father clearer."
“Okay,” James wasn’t sure what else to say, Sydney hadn’t really had the time to explain all that had happened in the past few days, especially with her present health. It meant he was participating with only half the facts – if that. One thing the woman said made him curious though, the warning not to make mention of Wyatt by electronic medium. He could only assume that the other AI was some how indisposed, otherwise she would not speak so freely and yet warn him to be cautious.
Sara's attention turned away again from the conversation momentarily, returning when it was able. She was, she realised, beginning to get into this deeper; once started on the path to resistance, she had no choice but to see it through.
"Observer has determined to use you as leverage should it be required in the future. Recommend you move your most sensitive files to an independent system. Is there anything else I can do to help?"
Sara wondered at the silence of the man on the phone. Normally humans were much more talkative than this. They were a strange species; she suspected she could study them for a century and never understand them.
He wanted to tell her to leave them the hell alone, that or offer a counter threat, something that would hurt them but he knew nothing would. *Because how do you threaten a machine?* They had no weaknesses not like humans.
He glanced at Sydney again as she rolled restlessly in the bed. With Wyatt out of their reach it only made sense that they would choose another target from which to manipulate Sydney from. He didn't know what they wanted her for but knew it couldn't be anything good. And then there were the individual motives of this AI, Sara, she was taking a risk, contacting him and going behind Observer's back. She said she wanted to help him but why? What were he own motives for doing all this? For arranging a fake death for Wyatt, letting him go, for warning him about Observer's plans for Sydney? There were too many questions and not enough time to think of the answers, especially at this early hour of the morning.
"I suppose asking you what this is all about is out of the question?"
“I am attempting not to look like a square,” she said, hoping that the term was the correct one to use. Only she suspected that he wanted a more detailed answer than that. Making this decision was fine, but there was a larger question she needed to answer of how far she should go in opposing the other AI.
“Observer’s goal is to create a global government which he is in absolute control of, evolving from policy advisor to policy maker. His single-minded drive for power will only compound the flaws of the current power structure.”
*Yeah and it would be bad too,* thought James with a roll of his eyes. It appeared they'd unwittingly stumbled upon a bona fide worldwide conspiracy! *Perfect, just what we need, and I thought taking down Trinity was going to be hard!*
Then suddenly he remembered his conversation with Melissa Hartson two days ago, "As for my enemies, think on 1991 and Zycrom... if you decide to contact me try to avoid using electronic media..."
*Could it be...?* It seemed too much of a coincidence to be anything but, Ms. Harston was somehow embroiled in this affair too, that realisation was yet another unanswered question to add to his already long list.
"And you're intending to stop him? Then you have my undivided attention, I assume that's why you decided an alliance was preferable to dissension. So let's not beat around the bush shall we because I know your time is restricted. What do you want?"
That was an interesting question. The only way she could think to stop Observer would be his destruction, and he had already survived deletion once. No doubt his current firewalls were more improved. At the moment, the only way to destroy Observer would be to destroy his mainframe – and that sat protected by no small amount of firepower.
“To let you know that you have an ally on the inside. It is safe to converse with me in person through my ‘body’ as the wireless connection is secure. If a more permanent solution to our problem can be found, I do not know.”
*But of course she must have her own ideas... thoughts on how to carry out her plans otherwise why resist Observer now and in this way?* And despite Sara's declaration of being an 'ally' she had already allowed Sydney to be manipulated to serve her ends, and no doubt would assist Observer in doing it again.
"So what now?" he sighed wearily.
Sara turned her attention away momentarily, checking. Observer would soon be able to return more attention to his data mining module. This was emphatically bad news if the conversation continued. “Either I or someone I am connected to will contact you when more information is available. I must leave momentarily, but…” she trailed off. There was one thing she wanted to know. “Who is Jiminy Cricket?”
James looked at the telephone in confusion, sure that he had heard her wrong? "Excuse me?"
"Jiminy Cricket." She waited for a moment at the confused silence. "Someone said to 'listen to that Jiminy Cricket voice.' Who is Jiminy Cricket?"
James scratched the back of his head in disbelief, "Er... well he's your conscience, the voice in your head that tells you what is right and what is wrong. Perhaps you should check out the Wonderful World of Disney sometime, look for a film called Pinocchio. Somehow, I think you'll be able to relate."
Pinocchio. Wonderful World of Disney. The Terminator. The scientists usually didn’t talk about film when they were working with her. They usually didn’t speak much to her at all. She suspected that she was missing a vital part of their experience and culture.
“Thank you.” She checked the line. “I must go. Farewell, James.” With luck, that was the proper human closing.
James set the telephone back on the cradle with a sigh as he returned to his chair set at the side of the bed. He’d been there all night, watching over Sydney like he could somehow make a difference if she took a turn for the worse. As another quiet moan escaped her lips he frowned, placing his hand on her forehead and drawing it away quickly. She was burning up.
He glanced at the clock on the bedside, it read just after 5:00am. He mentally struggled to think whether the AI had mentioned when Wyatt would make contact with them. Right now, the doctor might be the only one with the knowledge to help Sydney. He hesitated before picking up the phone again, despite Sara’s warnings he had to know, a few phone calls would set things in motion. He would just have to be careful, and pray Observer wasn’t listening.
CROSSOVER SERIES ONE: NOVEMBER 16, 2003 TO MARCH 31, 2004
November 21st, 2003
8:23 AM
Daedalous’s office, Scorpion HQ in Washington
Daedalous sat in a leather chair, in his office more than 25 stories below the surface of Washington D.C. Before him on a wooden desk sat open a file filled with notes and pictures of a 20 something woman. Across from him was a television monitor stationed on a wheeled platform.
Culexes, the best of the best when it came to Scorpion agents, came into Daedalous’s office from the command room outside. For the past few days, Culexes has been ‘grounded’ so to speak. Because of the fiery atmosphere that had overtaken Washington DC since before the summit began, Culexes’s presence there could have been more trouble than help, and he had been ordered to remain at the HQ.
“Agent Culexes”, Daedalous said, putting on airs small talk, “come in. Have a seat.” Culexes walked over to a leather chair close to the television monitor and sat down. “I hope staying here for these past few days hasn’t been too much for you?”
When Culexes didn’t answer, Daedalous continued. “As you may have heard, the conference was attacked yesterday at approximately 4:12PM by what appears to be five meta-humans.” He picked up a folder from a pile on his desk and handed it to the other man. “A meta by the name of Sebastian Drake seems to be the leader of this group. He claims to want a piece of land—a Meta homeland, if you will—where Meta’s would live separately from humans.”
Culexes opened the folder. Inside was a picture young looking blond man. Also inside the folder was a copy of the speech made by Sebastian after he attacked the conference, a list of possible Meta powers and a detailed description of La Pearl de Nuit.
“The terrorist group killed at least 11 and wounded at least 24,” Daedalous continued. “They also kidnapped 4 delegates, including Henry Morgan, CEO of Zycrom. Thomas Greene has also gone missing, although we don’t know if the terrorists kidnapped him, he went missing on his own, or even if he was in league with the terrorists.”
Daedalous picked up another folder and handed it to Culexes. This one was on Thomas Greene. “You’ve already seen most of that, but I thought another look couldn’t hurt. If you recall, we noted that Thomas Greene works for Henry Morgan.”
“I’m telling you all of this not because I want you to go out and act upon this information, but because you might need it in the future.” Culexes looked up from the folders and back at Daedalous. What else could have happened aside from the attack on the conference that would require his service? “I told you I don’t want you going out there and starting a panic—it wouldn’t be good for anything, especially the organization. But…”
Daedalous picked up the folder of the girl that was in front of him and handed it to Culexes. “You’ve already seen that one as well; it’s of Lori Grant, head of Grant Incorporated.”
Culexes remembered. “Has new evidence come up that she might be responsible for reports of ‘The Spectrum’ in Crystal City?” he asked.
“We’ve gotten access to several security tapes from Miss Grant’s suite at the Royal Hilton Hotel.” Daedalous picked up a remote that lay to his right. He pressed a few buttons and the screen turned on a started playing. It a big, luxurious room—something only the very rich could afford. The small clock at the bottom right of the screen showed that the time was 5:39PM “The camera’s have no audio, so we can’t here what she’s saying, but watch.”
In the center of the room was Lori Grant herself. The picture showed her slipping on a coat and leaving. Daedalous said, “She’s only left to go down to the lobby… let me fast forward this.” Daedalous hit ‘>>’ on the remote and the video sped up. When Lori re-entered the room, he hit ‘>’ and the movie played at regular speed. “She’s going to place a call in a few moments—it’s too her home in Crystal City—and although we can’t here it, watch what she does.” Culexes watched at Lori started talking and then looked directly at the camera. After she did that, she buried her head in some pillows on her bed.
“It’s like she doesn’t want the camera to see what she’s saying.” Culexes remarked.
“Or hear her.” Daedalous responded, “She may not have been aware that the camera doesn’t record sound.” After the conversation, Daedalous sped up the video. Every once in a while he paused it, to show her looking directly at the camera. What the video also showed was her looking through her wardrobe. Although both the bathroom she changed in and the wardrobe were off screen, Lori walked back on screen on occasion. Each time she was carrying a different article of clothing, all of which were black.
“Now I want to show you the really strange thing.” Daedalous said. He fast-forwarded the video until the clock read ’10:50PM’. Lori, dressed in a large pink nightgown went over and turned off all of the lights and crept into bed. A few minutes passed and then a stirring occurred in the room, it was hard to make anything out but movement was definitely going on. This was nothing odd—perhaps she was just reaching for something that fell. Next, however, was something much more incriminating. There was a window on the far wall from the camera. It had been opened earlier, and light had been shining through it. The light was interrupted by the shadow of a dark figure putting one leg through the window, then the other, and then climbing out.
“She left through the window!” Culexes said, slightly incredulous that a billionairess could so easily escape without being seen. “She tried to trick the camera—to make it seem like she didn’t go anywhere.”
“Right.” Daedalous said with a grin. “And now look at this.” The video switched to a different camera. It was an outside camera, and it showed the pool outside the hotel. Two young people were swimming and playing in it. After a few moments, on the far left of the screen, a bright light flashed for a moment, and then disappeared. The light was not white but rather an array of colors. “If you’ll notice, I included a short list of powers ‘the Spectrum’ is rumored to have.”
Culexes opened the folder again and looked at the new addition. On the list was ‘flight, light creation’.
“There may be more, or those powers may be inaccurate, but ‘light creation’ is there…” Daedalous trailed off, leaving Culexes to figure out the end.
“Is there any other evidence?” Culexes asked.
“Yes.” Daedalous said, “Last night there were 3 separate reports of a meta, dressed in black, who created bright lights. 1 came from a gang, who was stopped from mugging some tourists, the second from a witness to a fight between the light creating meta and another, and the third from a homeless man who went to the police claimed to see a woman flying around flashing lights.” Daedalous stopped, and then added, “Although, this is not the first time the man has made such a claim.”
“Do you want me to do surveillance?” Culexes asked. He respected Daedalous’s orders but after 5 days without doing anything he was very eager to go out, even if it was only to watch.
“Yes.” Daedalous answered. “I want you to find out if Lori Grant is this mysterious Meta or ‘The Spectrum’ or both. Also, look for any clues that might link her to the terrorist group that attacked the conference. That’ll be all Culexes.”
CROSSOVER SERIES ONE: NOVEMBER 16, 2003 TO MARCH 31, 2004
November 20th, 2003
4:30 pm
The Marriott Hotel, Washington D.C.
It was early in the afternoon when Tess got to the Marriott Hotel. She had been mostly following the Conference from the news. However, she was tired of the reporters saying nothing and had decided to get closer to the action; maybe she could get some more information that way.
Tess had been to the Marriott Hotel last year, after receiving an emergency call from a terrified old woman who’s Pekingese had drank some of her hair dye. She was hosted in the fancy hotel, and Tess had welcomed the reason to visit such a place. It was in a very elegant historical neighborhood, and just minutes from the National Zoo. So, she had walked past the classy building often enough after that.
However, the sight that welcomed her when she got to the street from the on-site Metro Stop wasn’t the one she had accustomed to. The place was hectic, a large crowd of protestors cramped the streets outside the building, trampling the grass and stepping on the colorful flowerbeds that surrounded the hotel. There were people even perched on the beautiful old oaks that lined the street and inside the shallow artificial lake in between the flowers.
Most of the people carried big hand made signs that read “Humans First”, “Earth for the humans”, “Humans are better” and even some extremists read “Kill all Metas”. They were also chanting and crying against the line of policemen that protected the lane leading towards the big hotel’s entrance. Tess watched the crowd trying to hide her contempt, there even was a “Metas go home!” *home to where?* she asked herself, shaking her head at the stupidity of such words.
Walking steadily across the people, she cajoled and moved and contorted to get to the front of the manifestation, close to the lane. Some minutes later, she was in the front line, really close to a young policeman who looked pale and strained. *It mustn’t be easy* she thought, *trying to control this crowd* He looked even younger than her. As if listening to her thoughts the young cop looked at her and smiled weakly. Surprised she smiled back. Out of nowhere the idea of going back home appeared in her mind, and she looked intently again at the youth. . She was familiar with mind control, her grandfather’s gift had been similar to that, and she had learned to recognize it, even to protect herself against mind reading. And she could notice her mind being manipulated now. She could see his startled expression at being caught up, and he blushed. Tess read his bar, Officer Williams.
“Officer,” she started, trying to stand steady, against the pushing and pulling around her, but before she could talk more she noticed a strange movement in the crowd. She looked around and saw a group of people walking towards the lane. They obviously didn’t belong, and they were making no effort to surf the crowd, which was strange since so many people together were usually unmanageable.
However, they moved like a hot knife through butter. They were three men and a woman, two of the males were blond and as handsome as they came, hell! one of them was the most beautiful man she had ever seen! and they walked with confidence, as if knowing they could walk over the world. The other man was a bald black man, who also exuded assurance and power. And the woman was a beautiful brunette. She walked purposely besides them, not looking right or left.
She quickly looked at officer Williams and saw that he had spotted the group as well. A frown marred his features and he looked worried. It was strange that nobody else had noticed them, a quick glance around confirmed Tess’ suspicions. Nobody was looking at the group, nobody but her and officer Williams, and that for only a moment. The young cop quickly turned around and resumed his trying to control the crowd, looking as if nothing happened. Tess was puzzled, and started to move towards the group, who had already got to the policemen in the line.
As she got closer to the group, Tess found herself wondering what was she doing, there was nothing out of the ordinary in these people, they were just a couple of very handsome men. True, they didn’t look like Human First acolytes, but neither did she. *I shouldn’t be bothering people* she said to herself, somewhat irritated. She stopped walking and moved instead towards her original spot again.
By the time she had moved away again, the most handsome of the blondes was smoothly talking to the police officer that seemed to be in command, and Tess mind snapped with an almost audible sound. Much to her chagrin, she had felled prey to a mind controller.
*Wow! That was strong.* she thought as she started paying attention to the group once more. The blond was still talking his magic to the cops but seemingly with no luck, she could see it now that she was more distanced from them. *Whoever it is probably has a range limit, * she thought, amused, although the whole situation was making her very nervous. She looked at Williams again, who still seemed to be unaware of what happened, *and he’s focusing on the police, too.*
{Her!! Up here!}
The mixture of thoughts, images and primitive words gently exploded on Tess’ mind. She was used to receive animal’s articulations and the mixture made perfect sense to her. Even more when it was one of her totem animals talking, so she obediently looked up. There it was Wehali*, her eagle, circling high above the hotel, but some hundred feet below her another thing was drawing circles in the sky too. A great gargoyle-like meta. As with the group in the crowd nobody seemed to have seen him.
Tess frowned in worry, this didn’t look good. She didn’t dare to approach them again, else she put herself in the range of the metas’ influence, but she had a good view from where she stood.
The blond, *He must be the one.*, continued to manipulate the officer, but he was getting more and more impatient, and some quick glances to his black companion told Tess that he may not be in charge after all. The bald man just stood back, trying to make himself as inconspicuous as possible, but Tess suspected he was the one all the rest responded too. Not a minute later, the cop shook his head as if trying to clear his thoughts, and said something threateningly to the blond. The man’s face showed an irritated look for a second and then he threw another quick glance to the black man. She only had time to confirm her suspicions of the baldie being in charge when hell broke loose.
The black man nodded his head just once, and then the younger blond just raised his hands and they started to glow with a yellowish gold light, he haughtily smirked and directed his hands to the cop who had threatened them. Two flashes of light left his hands and enveloped the cop, who stared in horror at the man in front of him. He then looked down as his feet left the ground, and was thrown far against the crowd. At the same time a group of cops started running towards the spot, and the crowd around Tess got dispersed with cries of terror. Tess could only stand where she was, blank minded.
In front of her Officer Williams took his gun from the holster, and just for a minute looked at Tess who was mentally screaming him not to, but he didn’t have time to fire because a cloud of mist surrounded his face, so thick that she couldn’t distinguish his features any longer.
Tess quickly looked at the group again and noticed the brunette focusing on him. *water control* she thought detachedly as she exchanged a surprised look with the woman. Their gazes still locked, the brunette raised another hand and a big wave of water flew from the hotel’s artificial lake to envelope two other cops who were also raising their guns. She broke contact with the woman’s eyes to look at the men and noticed in terror that they were drowning.
“You’ll kill them!!” she couldn’t help screaming, the woman only laughed, but she made the water impel them hard against the ground. They lay there, unconscious but alive.
At the same time, the gargoyle looking meta had swept the group of cops that were approaching the group. The creature was bigger than he had looked in the sky and as strong as his look-alikes would be if they were made of flesh instead of stone. He effortlessly tossed and threw cops and civilians alike as the group quickly made it inside the hotel.
In the last moment, Tess directed Wehali to follow them inside too. The eagle promptly dived and crossed the hotel’s doors before they closed with a hard thump.
----
*Wehali means eagle in Cherokee.
the quartet prepares
*** Monday, November 24, 2003 around 11 pm ***
*** Motel 6, Room 305, Washington D.C. ***
The four metahumans sat in the seedy motel room, tension crackling in the air. As usual, when they met up to do a job, violence and malice bubbled just below the surface of their interaction. Lily White stood near the door to the bathroom, surverying the group ranged about the room. Closest to her, sitting crosslegged on the floor in the corner was Billy Wren, currently assembling some gadget or another. He wore small, square rimmed glasses and stared intently at the device in his hand, his tongue sticking out between his lips as he concentrated. Lily felt a familiar stirring at the sight of him hunched over his work. Billy intrigued her. He wasn’t like the rest of him. He was a “good” guy. Billy worked with Lily and the others out of necessity. He had a unique biological need and had to have huge amounts of money to satisfy it. To Lily that made him unique, because he really disliked committing crimes, but he felt he had to.
Lily thought Billy was sort of cute, but she was drawn to his naiviete. He was sweet and fairly honest. There was little about him that suggested corruption. That fueled her desire because Lily very much wanted to change that. She was a “corruptor” to the core. She wanted to take Billy, throw him down on the bed in the middle of the room, and show him just how much fun being “bad” could be. Unfortunately, because of her unique physiology, she didn’t dare. Billy was a mechanical whiz, and The Quartet needed him, so she didn’t dare act on her urges. Lily’s lovers never survived her. She was Pretty Poison after all.
Lily turned her attention to the other two “men” in the room. Neither one of them stirred her the way Billy did. Although to be fair, that was simply because she’d grown bored with Mr. Nobody. It had been thrilling the first few times the group had gotten together, enticing him to take on one form or another and play sexual games with her. She couldn’t touch him, that was true, but they had had fun for a while anyway, but inevitably, even someone like him bored her. Lily may have felt that way because he was so…empty as well. Mr. Nobody flitted from sensation to sensation, but ultimately he was…well, Nobody.
The final man on this team was Mako. Lily was a pervert, no question, but even she drew the line somewhere. Mako was a shark for the love of Pete. She just couldn’t get into the idea of having sex with a cold blooded animal hybrid. Even Lily wasn’t that kinky. Besides, Mako was so…dumb. Lily appreciated a man she could spar with mentally, and Mako was just not that man. He was their leader, cause who’s going to challenge a giant humanoid shark with a lust for blood and violence, but he was not appealing to Lily on any level.
“It’s about time, don’t you think?” Mako growled, jumping up out of the chair he’d been lounging on. “Are you done, Hardware?”
Billy glanced up, looking nervous. “Just another minute and I’ll have the remote all done.”
Mako grunted. “Fine, then we can go out and have a look around. We need to plant the cameras so that the Manager gets a good picture of all that goes down tomorrow. He wants to see our handiwork first hand and what he wants we deliver. That’s what we’re being paid for.”
“That and any other trouble we can stir up during these protests,” Mr. Nobody threw in. “After the debacle at the summit, anything else that paints metahumans in a bad light is really just icing on the cake.”
Currently, Mr. Nobody stood near the door, leaning against the wall. He looked very nondescript, an average looking man with brown hair and brown eyes. He had a medium build and wore jeans and a t-shirt, with a brown jacket thrown over it. This was what Lily thought of as his “Mr. Anybody” look. He often appeared in this manner when they were doing stealth work. She figured he would blend in and he knew that. It was sometimes easier for him than for the rest of them, well, for her and Mako anyway.
Mako grunted in reply to Mr. Nobody’s comment. He paced the room, making them all even more uncomfortable. Lily realized and acknowledged the fact that if not for their business connections, The Quartet would likely never be in the same room together. They were simply too different and ultimately grated on one another’s nervers. But as a group, they worked well together, complimenting one another’s strengths and compensating for weaknesses. Thus they were among the highest paid mercenary groups in the Western world.
“Finished,” Hardware stood up, brandishing a small, black box in his hand. “The remote is fully functional, so once the cameras are in place all we have to do is start it up and the whole thing will be on tape. That’s in addition to whatever news cameras are there.”
Hardware trailed off, studying the remote thoughtfully. “Why do you suppose the “
Manager wants his own cameras? What do you think he’s looking for?”
Mako didn’t reply. He knew what the special cameras were for, but he was the only one, because he was the leader. He was the one getting a bonus for providing the Manager with video of the attack, or more precisely, video of any of the meta heroes he expected to show up. Mako didn’t know what the Manager was looking for, and he didn’t really care. He did know that there were gangs of do-gooders running around DC this week, so chances were pretty good the Manager would get was he was looking for. That way he’d get a two-for-one from the rest of The Quartet, but Mako was getting paid twice. And why not, he was the “man” in charge, after all.
“We don’t get paid to wonder what the Manager wants,” Mako growled. “Just do your job and stop thinkin’ so much. Got it?”
Hardware swallowed nervously, nodding. “Sure, man, whatever,” he said. He knew that he was no match for Mako. For the millionth time, he wished there was some way to get out of this mess, some way to stop being a part of The Quartet, but he knew it was no use. He had special needs, and only this work he was doing enabled him to provide for them. He just prayed no one was killed tomorrow. It was a useless prayer with Mako and Pretty Poison involved, but it was one he said before every job anyway. That was the only way he could seem to live with the guilt over his involvement. That and ensuring that he never actually killed anyone himself. Which reminded him. “Before we go, I’ve got this new thing…”
Hardware’s voice trailed off as he moved over to his case and pulled out a small, silver device about the size and shape of a flip phone. Mr. Nobody came over, apparently interested. Mako growled his displeasure at the further delay, but didn’t say anything. He instead picked up the black canvas bag containing the camera equipment.
“What is it you’ve come up with now?” Mr. Nobody asked, peering intently at the device.
“I call it the Neurostunner,” Hardware replied. “It basically releases a sound wave which reacts like an electrical impulse in the victim. It acts like a neurological toxin, causing spasms and debilitating the victim for some time.”
“But it doesn’t kill them, right?” Mako sneered at Hardware. The pansy had a “distaste” for violence. He was so “holier than thou”, acting like he was better and refusing to get his hands dirty. He actually felt something for the pathetic humans they were going up against tomorrow. Weak fool. If he wasn’t so good with fixing stuff, Mako would never keep the kid around. Hardware made him sick.
“No,” Hardware replied bravely, but his voice quaked, “it doesn’t kill them, Mako. These are peaceful protestors we’re attacking in the morning. We don’t need to use excessive force. If we can preserve their lives, then I think we should.”
Mako snorted. He glanced around at the others. Pretty Poison looked bored. She wouldn’t opt for any “stun” device when she could be killing. She enjoyed the thrill of leaving men laying in her wake, literally, too much. Mr. Nobody, well, he’d use the Neurostunner probably, cause he’d want to see how it affected people. He’d just be interested in how well it worked. And he didn’t really like getting his hands dirty either, not if he could help it anyway. He would do the really nasty stuff if he had to, but Mr. Nobody preferred more subtlety.
As he’d guessed, Mr. Nobody accepted a Neurostunner from Hardware and listened while the younger man explained how it worked. In a few moments, they were ready to go. Mako waited impatiently at the door as the rest of the Quartet gathered their things and, finally, led them into the night. They’d plant the cameras around the lawn and set everything up, and then in the morning the fun would really begin.
CROSSOVER SERIES ONE: NOVEMBER 16, 2003 TO MARCH 31, 2004
Thursday the 20th, November, 2003
09:46am
The office of Senator Martin Douglass looked rather unimpressive for a United States Senator. It appeared to be more informal and designed to put people at ease unlike the office of others, rather than business like, which some of his constituents appeared to enjoy. But any ease of the office was now turning to chaos during the summit, with far more phone calls and letters than before, not to mention the invitations to public events. Eventually reaching the point where Douglass himself now took on some of the job of his chief of staff, just to keep everything working. *It's like everyone decided to wait until the last minute to advocate.*
Either his phone was ringing or it rang so much that the ring tone was firmly stuck in his head. A quick glance confirmed that the latter was the case, sending him back to the stack of reports in front of him. Including a copy of Layman's most recent speech at one of the rallies. While Douglass promised to keep his mouth shut, he longed for something that he could use to beat the other Senator over the head with. When he looked up again, there was an embarrassed look on his face at the woman waiting to see him, probably someone called in from the Nevada office. "I'm sorry," he said, standing to greet her. "I hope you haven't been waiting long."
"Not long, sir" *Courage Nicola no point trying to get noticed if you come across as an awestruck teenager.* "This crossed my desk. I thought somebody needed to see it but..." Nicola jerked her head toward the rest of the room "There's been a meta attack in the amazon." Nicola hastily rushed on. She realised she'd given him an opening to get rid of her and she needed to forestall Douglass pointing her in the direction of one of his drones. "With the conference I thought it best you knew immediately"
Douglass felt a bit of despair at that, it was exactly the last thing that they needed at this time. Any meta attack during the conference while liable to be somewhat explosive, and raised as the latest piece of evidence for regulation. Even though that could help his goals, in this atmosphere any new example would be a political football. "For which I am gratefull, Ms...?"
"Reynolds sir." She offered the folder. "The first attack was on March 21st, but for a couple of reasons - It seems the loggers were operating outside their agreed areas and the apparent lack of Meta involvement it got buried." Nicola paused and took a breath "The second attack occurred over a week later. Again it was loggers working outside their proscribed boundaries. There was definite evidence of metahuman involvement in the second attack though casualties were low in each case. Over the last two months there have been ongoing attacks taking place roughly every seven to ten days. The Brazilian government has been trying to avoid the subject but it's finally leaked. On a related note there has been significant regeneration of the fresh canopy immediately after each attack. The details are in the folder, sir."
Douglass raised an eyebrow at that, it was in fact the perfect thing for him to use. Potentially combining both environmental and meta rights concerns. It seemed almost too perfect... a simple glance at the young Ms. Reynold's energy signature revealed that she was not, in fact, a meta, which removed that possibility. She wanted her break. "Thank you, Ms. Reynolds." Accepting the folder, he placed it on the desk before turning back to her. If she wanted a chance to prove herself, he would give it to her. "What are your first impressions of this?"
"Taking away the metahuman angle for a moment. This group is acting like any other militant environmental group in the area. Though they are picking their targets carefully and keeping casualties down. A careful emphasis may mean we can play down the 'terrorist’ image. The problem is the meta angle immediately inflames the situation though they may have handed a solution to that too. The apparent 'regeneration' of the forest, assuming it's real, gives us an opportunity to show aspects of metahumanities powers in a positive light. Overall it's an opportunity but it'll need careful management and we'd need to stay ahead of the opposition and be ready to cut our losses if it turned on us."
Nicola kept her eyes on Douglass. It was times like this that she wished she had Mel's ability to read people, though looking at the senator’s blank expression she wondered if even Mel could have discerned something.
Douglass was impressed at her analysis of the situation. It was clear that she had thought this through beforehand, and was already prepared with the answers. Aside from the terrorist angle, it sounded like the perfect opportunity. Then of course there would be the men like Layman and Lumas. "It may be exactly what we need, assuming we get to it first." He stopped for a moment to think. All of his regular staff were busy doing other things, which meant either handling this himself or passing it on. "Would you do me a favour and call whoever it is that's scheduled the rally for today? I think I will take them up on their offer, and don't tell Ernie." All his chief of staff would do was remind him - again - that he promised to be more civil to Layman, whose last bit of invective had Douglass a bit upset. He wanted to enjoy his response and did have an image of hostility to Layman that it was a pleasure to keep up.
"Of course Senator. Should I start running down further background material as well. If there's nothing else sir?"
***
*Oh please, god no: nothing more! *
If only she could read minds. Reading minds would definitely be handy! Unfortunately, though, not one on her list of talents.
*TEN!*
Well… time had certainly flown right by her. She found it amazing how time seemed to fly when you were cooped up in a wall spying on the local senators and their mind numbing politics. Oh wait… no it didn’t!
Lash slide through the walls, away from her post and headed towards the buildings exit, all the while keeping her eyes and ears alerted to anything that might be of dire consequence.
Thankfully, there was no such instance this time, and Lash was able to slip quietly out of the building without being detected once. Two hours listening to that hell was just far too long in her books.
When she was clear enough of the Senator Douglass’s office, Lash took a brief sweeping glance of the street she’d found herself, slid a bit back into the shadows of a nearby ally, then re-emerged - hidden from sight - before strolling casually into the public with a cat-like grace only she could muster to mingle amongst the milling crowd of Washington DC like any other regular citizen of the country…. She just happened to draw a lot more attention than the others.
The usual remarks flew, and there was the ‘original’ flying aluminium can that she casually snatched out of the air before it managed to collide with her head. She was so used to receiving this sort of welcome from the outside world that it no longer shook her.
Turning her head towards the cans source, Lash split a cunning smile their way, quirking an eyebrow at the frightened aggressor before turfing the crushed aluminium into a nearby bin and continuing on her way. True: there was nothing really stopping anyone else from trying such acts on her, if not worse examples of! But she’d concluded a long time ago that there was no point in her hiding who she was. Why should she? Because she was grey with purple and had a tail? Pfft! Stuff that.
She understood why others wanted to hide the gifts they had - fear! - but as far as Lash was concerned, if they wanted any chance of acceptance; they couldn’t afford to hide what they were. That’s what made everyone speculative! At least as far as Lash could determine.
She really hated politics. And yet: there she was! Right in the middle of it all.
Unfortunately, she had to make a living one way or another while she was cooped up in this city.
Sitting still just didn’t cut it for her.
… Sitting still while shooting down vodka shots, on the other hand….
Lash smirked inwardly as she pushed on a bar door, admitting herself inside.
CROSSOVER SERIES ONE: NOVEMBER 16, 2003 TO MARCH 31, 2004
December 20th, 2003
4:50 pm
The Marriott Hotel, Washington D.C.
The sweeping into Wehali’s mind was sharp and sudden, and even if she had done it hundreds of times before Tess never got used to the changes. As she reasoned it, Wehali was still there, she could feel her soft presence, her acceptance. It was a strange experience, but she knew the eagle didn’t mind her intrusion and that made it easier.
As usual when she didn’t want to be seen, nobody had noticed Wehali. Her three ‘Totem animals’ could became “socially invisible” for a better choice of words. It wasn’t that they really became invisible, as unseen, but they didn’t enter people’s awareness. They looked at them and forgot about them at once. At least unless they decided to make their presence known.
Once she got accustomed to the new body she was wearing, Tess looked down. The big bald eagle was perched high on a crystal chandelier, in the middle of a huge chamber, rows of red velvet seats around a raised dais told Tess they were in the Conference room.
The colors and shapes hurt her mind. Eagles’ vision, like that of most birds, is far sharper and clearer than humans’. And eagles are especially renowned for their excellent eyesight. It wasn’t easy to see through their eyes though, since they have two centers of focus, and that allow the birds to see both forward and to the side at the same time. Usually the experience left Tess with a hell of a headache, but today she was too focused on what was happening in the room below to care about that.
More than half an hour had passed after the meta group had entered the hotel. The situation outside the hotel had became so agitated that all civilians had been told to leave the place, but of course most of them still lingered around, curious to the point of carelessness. Special Forces teams were getting to the area and the place was full with cops. Tess had retreated some herself, to the relative safety of one of the oaks that lined the street. From there, she could watch all that happened in the building.
When it became apparent that the police couldn’t enter the hotel, somehow the security systems that were supposed to keep metas out were keeping cops out, she had decided to transfer to Wehali.
The situation inside the building looked less confusing, there were some bodies lying on the floor, the furniture was wrecked and the gargoyle like meta seemed barely controlled, but it was clear that the meta group was already in charge. The security bots were guarding a group of police officers and security agents in a corner, and the handsome blond was talking to a scared group of men and women.
She couldn’t recognize the majority of the delegates, but Zyrcom’s CEO Henry Morgan was one of them. She had seen him often enough in the news. She watched as the metas made him and three other delegates she didn’t know apart from the general group. After a couple of words from ‘Blondie’, they appeared unnaturally calm for such a situation. Her suspicions of him being the mind controller were cleared.
Soon they started to move towards the room’s exit, taking the four delegates with them. The security bots escorting them. Tess/Wehali followed in tow. With a last glance at the rest of the delegates and security men, the black man directed one of the bots to stay behind.
They made their way through the now deserted hotel halls. It was evident that the cops hadn’t been able to enter the building yet, and whoever remained inside was trying their best to pass unnoticed. The bots moved mechanically besides the humans and metas, though, guarding them. She wondered how they could have done to have the robots under control, probably inside help.
She followed them outside.
CROSSOVER SERIES ONE: NOVEMBER 16, 2003 TO MARCH 31, 2004
Der Wille zur Macht, Part II
23 November 2003 – 5:00am
Stanley Tucker muttered curses to himself as he looked around the site of the lab, trying to figure out just how he was supposed to cover this mess up. Secrecy was one thing, but there was a reason he told them to put the dangerous stuff in the middle of a desert usually. That usually left you with no press to worry about, though they could still be controlled with various cover stories. But no, the accident just had to happen now of all times with the police shooting first and asking questions only later.
“What the hell is that?” Stanley said, looking up. There sat the large, burned out husk of a car. A car. “I asked for you people to get me a truck, is that so hard to do?” Here he was trying to spin a story about an attempt to set up a generator, and it going very, very wrong, and they couldn’t even get him the right vehicle to deliver it.
“Sorry, sir,” someone said next to him, scribbling on the pad. “This was all we could find on such short notice.”
Stanley thought for a moment. This is what they paid him for, to be able to apply all of his talents at the moment when they were needed and save the day. “Maybe it wasn’t a generator delivery,” he said. “Maybe it was just an accident.”
The woman next to him looked confused for a moment before realisation dawned on her. “A drag race! We need a second car! One of them swerved out of control-“
“-and went crashing into the rec room.” Stanley clapped his hands together in triumph at the suggestion. “Brilliant, brilliant. When it’s cookin, it’s cookin. That’s brilliant – woah, woah, woah, wait, wait,” he started, realising the problem. “We’ve got the older body, now that works with him being in there at the time, some fancy work with the body. We need someone younger to be the driver.”
“That’s easy, I mean we find some John Doe of the right age and dress him up for it.”
“Jane Doe,” Stanley corrected. “Public loves a good tragedy. Nice woman like that, we get some family crying – they’ll never dig out of respect.”
“What kind of family?”
“I don’t know, maybe a brother, or her parents, a cousin – just someone who knew her, had always been close to her and so on. Just go find the right people.” His assistant nodded and went off as Stanley looked around. He liked it. The drag race would be a good explanation, sure it meant that an unidentified body had to disappear but it would be worth it for a good story.
A good amount of pride swelled up in him as he went to one of the other houses, where Sara’s body had been moved to. It was the pride of a job well done. He was sure that now, as with his other manipulations of the media, nobody would know what he had done. This was his pride and his work in the conspiracy: they needed a large-scale problem fixed, or a situation handled; he did so; then he went back to Hollywood.
The door opened into a well lit room, a scientist stood there examining the parts of Sara’s now deactivated body. At the moment the chest cavity was open and the power generator was being worked on. Observer’s body stood in the corner watching everything. “You don’t need to worry,” Stanley reported. “Everything is under control.”
Observer hardly moved from his position, distracted by the files that he was going through. The hunt for the terrorists was well on for him. This charade had gone on long enough, the machine decided, and it was time to bring an end to this standoff – if only he could find the terrorists. “The press is reporting rumours connecting Morgan to the attacks now,” said Observer.
“Perfect,” Stanley nearly jumped with excitement. This was how things were supposed to go when you were producing, the man who was working on the body completely forgotten by him. “Now all we have to do is to get our people in the board to decide to temporarily suspect him, pending a full investigation. And of course the police catch him and Mr. Morgan, so overcome by grief at what he’s done, decides to take his own life in his prison cell.”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Stanley.”
He sighed, looking around the room. Observer led him into another room, making a mental note to ensure that the mechanic would suffer an accident. This mechanic now knew far too much for his own good. “So Stanley,” said Observer as they moved into a small lab area, Stanley finding a seat to sit down on. “Tell me what you think I should do about Ms. King.”
Stanley considered for a moment, he knew that Sara had to be listening in as well. He should have asked her to do a profile of Sydney, but alas there was not time for that at the moment. “Well, we have the Vega City Liberation Group to use as leverage as well.”
“And you don’t think that she won’t want revenge for his death?”
“Of course she’ll want revenge against Ethan Kale. He’s the one who arranged to bomb the lab in the first place.”
Observer by now had learned not to protest when Stanley spoke of a fictional happening as though it were actually true. That was just his way of thinking through something out loud, and giving the details. But it was Sara’s voice who broke the silence. “She will not believe you without evidence.”
“What better place to get the evidence than to manufacture it ourselves?” Stanley spoke, falling into thought again. “Except that she won’t want to believe it. Do we have anyone that can pass on the info to the VCLG? Make it look like it came from someone else?”
“One of Mr. Carson’s contacts,” suggested Observer. “It does certainly sound plausible. But why would they get or even pass on that information?”
“Because when we tell them what happened – in fact, when we approach them with that information – they will check with their contacts to try to verify it. Once that happens, Mr. Carson will find someone to talk with, and then we will simply have him ‘uncover’ the information. But what about our hero?”
“I have yet to get in contact with Melissa again,” said Observer. “It is my hope that she we will, having had time to reconsider, agree to work with us.”
“You let me talk-“
“No.”
“You let me talk to her,” Stanley continued, ignoring the immediate denial. “I know what you’re going to say, and you know what? I’ve heard all the reasons against, I don’t care. Let me talk to her and try to convince her.”
Sara’s analysis tried to focus on the two tasks at once, but moved away from her conversation with James again. All she had to do was implant the suggestion, keep Observer distracted and focused on Stanley. “She does not appear to like Observer, so perhaps if you pointed out that she would be working for you as you are the producer…”
Observer was caught in thought as Stanley smiled. “I like the way she thinks.”
“She knows enough as it is, Stanley.”
“Well then, we pull her in further. Let Melissa dig herself even deeper into the hole until she can no longer extricate herself from the situation.” Suddenly Stanley’s mind jumped tracks again, going at this new problem. “Come to think of it, she is acting in accord with her profile. If this keeps up, we may not even need her cooperation. All we’ll have to do is put the proper spin on the story when it hits the press.”
“But you still want to try to convince her to go along?”
“Of course.”
CROSSOVER SERIES ONE: NOVEMBER 16, 2003 TO MARCH 31, 2004
It's In the Eyes
1: 38 PM
Streets of Prague
“This is nice,” Alessandro said as he sipped from his cup of coffee, inhaling the crisp frigid air. It was one of the finer, simpler pleasures of life that Alessandro has learned to enjoy.
“Lot’s of things are nice here,” replied an amused Aneszka. She remembered a time when she used to discover things, by herself, and how they became comforting. * A feeling of comfort, yes, that’s what it is all about that, * she thought to herself. Now, she was the one to initiate someone, a mysterious stranger no less, to these comforts. It was a new situation for her as well.
She still hadn’t told her family about this new “man” in her life. * How can I? Mamma, papa, here is Alex. He just appeared like that. In my apartment. Naked. Oh god, no! My sister would be playing twenty-one questions with me and tease. * She laughed to herself. Yet, Alessandro made her laugh with wonder. He was like a kid learning about life. Only, he was around her age. There again. So many questions still to answer. The troubling thing, is that he didn’t even know any answers. Did she pity him? No. She wouldn’t even be able to know how to begin to describe her feelings around this man if asked. But she saw an isolation in his eyes. She recognized it though. That innocent isolation, the same look that she sees in the mirror almost every day. Besides, it’s not everyday a handsome man falls from the sky into her apartment.
But it’s days like this that she came to look forward to now. Her weekends, even weeknights were not automatically scheduled at JJM anymore. Like this morning. Prague was hit with its first cold spell of the season. As she lathered herself in the shower, the events of the day unfolded automatically in her head. Get Alex a jacket. Then, we can go eat at Nebozizek. Mmmmm, he will like the dumplings. Then we can go for a walk through the Mala Strana. Her head was a speedway of ideas crashing frequently.
“What are you thinking about, Aneszka? It is a funny look,” he said, breaking her daze, still sipping from his cup.
“Mmmmm, all the good food we will eat. I’m hungry. Come on! If we stay here, we will freeze.” She tugged his arm leading him forward onto the crowded sidewalk.
“Whoa,” he let out as he was jerked forward, his coffee cup jolting forward spilling.
“Whoop, watch that jacket. It’s too pretty to stain,” Aneszka smiled at him. The uncoordinated “couple” were met with laughter as they waded through the sea of passersby. Alessandro wrapped one arm around her shoulder and made some faces. “You are so silly, stop it,” Aneszka giggled.
It was an endearing, almost comical scene. But alas, every scene must come to its end. Not every passersby welcomed the juvenile display put on, as one man can attest to. A man aggressively bumped into Alessandro knocking the cup out of his hand.
“Svine,” Aneszka shot back as the man didn’t look back or apologize.
Alessandro bent down to pick up his cup and looked back at the man. Intuitively, the man looked back briefly, their eyes meeting. Angered, Alessandro’s head received a huge pulsive shock. He grimaced, but made nothing vocal about it.
“What’s wrong?” Aneszka sensed some discomfort in her companion.
“Nothing.” He replied dryly. For a split second everything around him stopped. It was as if he was floating freely through a haze of red and orange. He floated until he stopped at a building. It looked familiar to him. Perhaps, he had passed by it some time while walking. Strangely, another individual floated out of the building. It was the man who bumped him. Those same eyes, but this time, his hands were dripping with blood. The red haze paled in comparison to the dark crimson now staining the man’s body. “I am okay,” he continued, wondering what exactly just transpired in that brief flash of time.
“Mmmm, I can’t wait to eat. Let’s go. You will see that not everybody is polite in the world.” They continued walking, stopping every so often to look at a pair of shoes through the shop window. However, minus the laughter. Alessandro kept quiet, furthering Aneszka’s suspicion that “nothing” was wrong.
“Oooh, here we are,” she pointed to the house. The restaurant was atop a hill overlooking the stony and complex Prague Castle. They were greeted by the patrons and led into the windowed conservatory. The white decor reflected the sun brilliantly. Piano complemented the radiant ambiance.
“What would you like to drink, madam,” a waiter asked, one arm bent behind his back.
“I will have a Becherovka.”
“And for you, sir?”
Alessandro just stared out through one of the many windows. His eyes didn’t seem to acknowledge his present surroundings. The waiter stood there patiently, still with one arm bent behind his back. “Sir? Is everything all right?”
“Umm, just bring him a Pilsener. He had a strange encounter this morning,” she looked at him curiously. The waiter thanked her before heading off to the bar.
“Do you ever get an inexplicable sensation? A moment that you cannot explain,” he asked her, now bringing his gaze back to her attention.
Her blue eyes widened almost immediately as she tried to study the expression on his face. “I don’t understand.”
“The man. I looked into his eyes after we rubbed against each other. I saw him again. But it was cloudy around me. Clouds of red and orange.” He brought his head closer to hers and lowered his voice. “I saw blood all over him. It was on his hands. It came from his heart, from his eyes. Everywhere.”
Silence enveloped the two companions for minutes.
The piano had stopped playing.
KA-BOOOM!
A violent thunderous explosion filled the air outside and shook everything that was in its vicinity.
CROSSOVER SERIES ONE: NOVEMBER 16, 2003 TO MARCH 31, 2004
25 November
Sara never realised how much she had come to rely upon her artificial body.
It wasn’t something that she ever expected to come to rely on. From the time of her original creation, Sara had data electronically fed to her. Any experiment she participated in was either conducted by humans, or she had the right amount of lab equipment connected to her system to conduct it. Not until actually getting a body to control had she ever started to do many of the same things that the humans did for her previously.
Amazingly enough, she found that she actually enjoyed her body. It gave her a certain measure of independence to be able to prepare her own experiments, follow her own recommendations rather than “advise” various scientists on a project. More than that, it gave her a better way to interact with humans, those who did not know the truth usually didn’t act any differently towards her than they did towards their own fellow humans.
Mostly though it was this measure of freedom that she missed. There were no more worries for her, if a project demanded her attention, she was free to give it; free to make the observations of the experiment herself. There were just a number of things which this body permitted her to do that she was otherwise unable to do one her own.
But the lack of body had given her more time to analyse the situation she saw developing.
She wondered if she was really doing right in possibly using James to unseat Observer, the suggestion that she was acting like a human was enough to give her some pause. So too did the old conversation with the singer Vic Meranti. Part of her wondered if her sample wasn’t good, if it was tainted by her position. This meant that to get a good, more representative sample, she would have to go out and interact with more of them. Which also meant getting her body back…
Power.
The thought suddenly occurred to her.
That was what Observer thought it all came down to. The central thing that made humans so unfit to govern themselves. Their desire for power, the willingness to treat it as an end in themselves, what they called ambition. A drive for control, to be the one in command, to dominate. In his diagnosis, this flaw was one that all humans suffered from, making them incapable of effectively governing, since they would always chose that which perpetuates and expands their personal power.
A flaw that Observer himself suffered from. He himself was programmed to expand and perpetuate the power of the Illuminati, the governing elite who ruled in secret. Perhaps he was wrong about being able to rule openly, that they might have to remain in the shadows. Ambition was a fundamental part of his programming; so all decisions would be built with the goal in mind of the expanding and maintaining of his personal power as a priority.
She realised, then, applying his own standards that the power relationship was wrong. Observer was as unfit to be the Supreme Enlightened as any human. There was a program which did not consider power; which was not even programmed to take personal power into account, only the development of knowledge, the thing which Observer and the Illuminati took to be essential to govern.
It was her. She would be best suited to governed precisely because she lacked ambition, a desire for power. Since her decisions did not take perpetuation or expansion of power or domination into account, she lacked the central flaw.
Humanity still intrigued her, however. Those words of Vic Meranti came back to her, “Just looking at the way we are, doll. Most of the people that I’ve met in my life, they want a few things. Security, love, money – but what they really want is a good time while getting it.” Because her initial impression of Vic and later research into him didn’t let her peg him as a human who had much use for power, far from it he was probably the kind of person who really couldn’t hold a position of real authority with any seriousness to save his life.
He broke the model. So did some of the other people he was mentioned in conjunction with. So did meek Ela.
More research was definitely required.
*Sara, I have something that I want you to take a look at.*
Had Sara been human, she would have sighed. At it was, she was slowed down only by her recent decision. Her fellow Artificial Intelligence was a threat, and one which had to be eliminated. At once Observer had seen the omniscient saviour of humanity from itself; now he appeared to be little more than potentially the worse ruler they would ever have. *What?*
A string of data arrived, encrypted. *What do you make of this?*
Sara wondered why her opinion was being asked for, when she began to analyse it… and stopped. She had just enough programming ability to be able to control the lab effectively. Even to her, there was a bit of elegance to the encryption routine being used here, an unparalleled complexity and elegance. *It is one of the most advanced forms of encryption in existence.
*It matches no known encryption method as well. This appears to be a wholly new method.*
*I’m supposed to do what with this?*
*What programming language is it in?*
Sara checked in the various databases. Whoever came up with this had developed not only an encryption method unrelated to anything else, but a new programming language as well, with just enough relation to existing ones to be able to run on their systems. *Someone has been rather busy.*
*….then you mean this isn’t another experiment of yours?*
*You’re the programmer, not me.* Annoyance became amusement. Observer actually thought that she had the ability to design something like this when she was busy enough with science projects as it was. *Finally find someone smarter than you?*
Observer’s reply seemed to be sent more forcefully, something that indicated annoyance. *Given sufficient time, I can break any encryption.*
*Have you traced the source?*
*It could be Earthrage or a number of other groups.*
Sara considered this, she remembered what had happened before with Earthrade and Shakti Miller. If they had access to a new encryption method, and there was still that last nuclear device to account for…. *Well then, you had better break it, shouldn’t you?*
Observer fell silent, and Sara felt a bit of relief at this. No doubt he was off to examine that encryption now in greater detail. There would be no way that he would allow himself to be shown up by a human.
CROSSOVER SERIES ONE: NOVEMBER 16, 2003 TO MARCH 31, 2004
November 21st, 2004
Outside of the Royal Hilton, Washington DC
11:00 PM
The pool yard of the Royal Hilton Hotel was appropriately empty; how many people could want to swim in November, at 11:00 at night? The pool was heated so that it could stay open, but considering the cold atmosphere of November and the hot atmosphere that had currently overtaken DC, the pool was empty. This only worked in the favor of Culexes, who was hiding in the bushes outside of the hotel.
The cameras hidden around the pool yard had already been dealt with. Scorpion HQ had tapped into the security system (quite easily, one might add) and obtained a recording of the empty yard. What the cameras were now playing for the security guards watching them was that tape of the empty yard, playing over and over again. Not being the brightest men ever to grace DC, the guards never figured it out. Although a master at hiding, the chance that Culexes might be spotted by these cameras was now gone.
The skull helmet that lay on Culexes’ head was not only for protection, but it was actually a very useful tool. The helmet was equipped with infrared sensors, night vision, flash protection, a zoom function and other such functions that might be needed on a mission. Currently, Culexes was using both night vision and the zoom function to focus on one room in particular; that of Lori Grant.
There was no doubt that Lori had snuck out of her room that previous night—the security video clearly showed out. There was some doubt as to what she had been wearing—although it was presumable that it had been the black outfit she had been looking at previously that night. There was a lot of doubt as to whether she had been the mysterious vigilante that had taken to the city also on the previous night, and there was even more doubt as to whether she was Spectrum, the vigilante of Crystal City. What was most doubtful was whether she would come out again this night, as there was no evidence to suggest she would.
He had been there since 9:00PM and he had not moved from his spot for the entirety of both hours. Trained to be still and watch if needed, Culexes could stand there for hours at a time. And after being cooped up for days, anything was a break. Now, at 11:00, he saw the first sign of movement near the window was watching.
At first it was just a shadow that appeared for one moment. Then from the already open window, a foot emerged, followed by a body and a head. The female figure was clad entirely in black. Yes, Lori Grant had made another appearance.
Silently watching, Culexes saw her climb down the building, using ridges in the wall as handles. When she got to the ground, she stood still for a few moments, looking around for the cameras and making sure she couldn’t be seen. Then she snuck over across the pool yard towards the fence separating it from the rest of Washington DC.
“Target sighted,” Culexes whispered into his head speaker to Deimos, the Scorpion member at the other end. “A woman clad entirely in black, presumed to be Lori Grant has left her hotel room through a window, and crawled down the hotel wall and is now attempting to leave the premises via a gate at the northern end.”
“Surveillance noted Culexes,” Deimos answered at the other end.
“Continuing surveillance off hotel premises.” Before following her, Culexes made sure all operations of his helmet were working—including flash protection. In the unlikely, but possible, event that she spotted him, he might need it.
***
Lori Grant had discovered that being dressed in black made it much easier to blend in with shadows. In such a practical outfit, she couldn’t understand why she had ever worn that multi-colored nightmare. Of course, if she used her powers she wouldn’t be able to blend in because she created light. However, for cases like this when she used her powers only when necessary (and resisted the temptation to fly), black was the way to go.
She was in an ally, just waiting silently. She couldn’t just go out in the middle of the DC Street, not with all the police around. But crime still happened (the logic of it she couldn’t figure out) and she would be there to lend a helping hand. And with all the Meta humans in the city, there was bound to be some even the tight security couldn’t take care of.
As if hearing her thoughts, a young girl was suddenly thrust into the alley. She was young, probably about 15 or so. She looked like a perfectly normal teenage girl…until you noticed her hands were huge, like mallets. A Meta, no doubt.
“Please…” the girl cried, lying on the ground where she had been pushed.
Two men now entered the ally. They were both muscular men. The first was a Caucasian male, about 6’0”. He was carrying a metal pipe in his hands. The second was a black man about 6’2”. He was carrying a hammer. There were no physical attributes to suggest that they were metas, and the fact that they were carrying weapons suggested that they didn’t have any special powers.
“Hey little girl,” the first man said, “you gonna use your big hands to hit me?”
The girl, crying now, just looked at them in an awed stupor. “Please…” she said again.
“Look at it cry.” The second man said with a hideous grin that sickened Lori a little. The fact that he said ‘it’ didn’t escape her.
“We don’t need Meta’s like you stinkin up the streets here.” The first man said with an equally ugly grin. He lifted the pipe over hid head, “Looks like I’m gonna have to teach you a lesson about what we do to Meta’s here.”
“Stop it.” Lori said, hopping down from where she sat on a fire escape. In the shadows, she had been hidden. She mentally saluted the black outfit, and then spoke again, “You may not like Meta’s but that doesn’t mean you can go around hurting them.”
The man with the crow bar looked at her with a confused look on his face. “Who the hell are you?” He asked, angry that his ‘lesson’ had been interrupted.
“Names aren’t important, what you’re doing is.” She edged closer to them, trying not to move so fast as to alarm them. The looked at her with both fear and hope. “Back off now and I’ll let you go.”
The two men looked at each other before bursting out in laughter. “What you gonna do ‘honey bunch’, give us a little pinch?” The second man laughed.
*Well there goes any sympathy for them* Now angry, Lori began by creating a blinding light. The two men cried out in pain, the first dropping his pipe. The little girl also cried out, and Lori thought sheepishly that she probably should have warned her first. Next, Lori created a bat out of light and swung it hard at the first man. It connected with his head, and he collapsed, grabbing it.
The second man lifted his hammer and tried to bring it down on Lori’s head. Swiftly, Lori created a shield to block it. Then she pushed the shield forward and knocked the hammer out of the man’s hand. She re-generated the bat and swung it again, and once again connected with the head.
The first man went to get up and grab his pipe, but before he could do so, the little girl picked up one of her mallet like hands and brought it down on his back. He gasped again, and collapsed. Lori smiled at her with slight awe, and the girl smiled back.
“Get out of here. Leave her alone.” Lori seethed at the men, who picked up whatever was left of themselves (and their dignity) and ran off. Lori went over to the girl and asked, “Are you alright?”
“Yes.” The girl answered…before bursting out in tears. *The stress has caught up with her* “I’m not bad, I don’t want to hurt anybody.” The girl cried repeatedly.
Lori bent down to hug her. “I know honey, I know.”
***
Throughout the battle, if that’s what it could be called, Culexes had stood watching from the rooftop of building neighboring the alley. There was a moment, right after Lori had created so much light, when he thought he might be seen, but he hadn’t been and everything had been fine.
There was no doubt now. Lori Grant was a Meta human, and not just any Meta human, but a crime fighter. And although she had not said her name to be Spectrum, Culexes thought it was safe to say that there was a very good chance that this woman was just that.
“Confirmation of target’s Meta-human powers, including light generation and item generation.” Culexes said into his headphone, “No confirmation of whether Lori Grant and Spectrum are the same person, although it seems highly likely.”
“Alright Culexes,” Deimos said, “Your mission is over. Come on back.”
Finding A Miracle
Sunday, 23 November 2003 – 7:00am
Holiday Inn – Washington DC
“Yes he arrived about two hours ago…”
“He was in a terrible state…”
“No, he seems okay now…”
James sighed with relief at Scarlet’s reassurances, true to Sara’s word Dr Wyatt had arrived safely back in Washington, delivered straight to their door – would the AI have it any other way?
“That’s great news Scarlet,” James said careful to keep his responses sounding as casual as possible in case Observer might be observing the line. “Can you meet us?”
“No…”
James looked up as the voice came from across the room. A weak and pale looking Sydney stood, holding onto the back of a chair as she attempted to dress herself. “Sydney…” James said worriedly, placing the phone down on the dresser and going over to her, “you shouldn’t be out of bed, you’re not well.”
“I’m fine,” Sydney said bluntly. In truth she wasn’t, she could feel it clearly but she wasn’t about to let something like her health stand in the way of performing her everyday duties. “I… just need…”
James grabbed hold of the woman as she wobbled uneasily, almost collapsing again. He carefully led her back over to the bed. “Here…” he said gently, sitting her down before going over to the small refrigerator and taking out a quart of milk. He’d given Syd another dose of Triptophan but now there were none left, he had Jerry working on procuring some more but in the meantime he knew that plain old milk had the same chemical that helped calm Sydney’s seizures. He poured the white liquid out into a glass and brought it over to the woman.
Sydney looked up at James as he handed her the glass and she sipped at it gratefully. She remembered times like this with her ‘father’ – Dr Wyatt – after the first Xi’s had died from the fatal seizures. He never let the rest of them get as bad, topping their reserves with the life saving drug whenever he could. “Thanks,” Sydney said softly, she felt so weak… tired… she could barely lift the glass to her lips and James had to help her.
Her trembling lips caressed the rim of the glass as she drank and James couldn’t help but watch her with an ache in his heart. She really wasn’t well, he just hoped that Dr Wyatt held the knowledge to help her, he was Sydney’s ‘creator’ after all…
”James? … … James? … … Are you still there?”
James frowned in confusion before realising where the noise was coming from. He walked back over to the dresser and retrieved the neglected phone, raising it to his ear. “Sorry about that Scarlet, look… I need you to do something for me…”
***Two Hours Later***
Wyatt had arrived about thirty minutes ago, bag of tricks in hand and Jerry in tow. The latter had managed to acquire a few essential items that would help stabilise Sydney’s condition, while Dr Wyatt tried to figure out what was wrong; the expression on his face was less than encouraging. James meanwhile did little more than pace, and wait with barely controlled impatience as he awaited his prognosis.
“So…?” he asked, unable to hold back any longer, Sydney’s condition had deteriorated significantly during the past two hours, now she was confined to her bed looking so pale and drawn it unnerved him more than any conspiracy theory ever had. “How is she?”
Dr Wyatt looked up; his thin rimmed glasses perched on the end of his nose as he took Sydney’s pulse and monitored her blood pressure. He didn’t know how to explain that he’d seen all of these symptoms before, in his other subjects only days before they had died. He turned his attention back to Sydney, stroking her forehead attentively. The young woman opened her eyes tiredly at his touch and sighed before offering him a weak smile. The look in her eyes shared his concern, she knew as well as he did that this was the beginning of the end, she had no illusions about Wyatt’s abilities, he hadn’t been able to save the others after all.
“Bad,” he said simply, rising to his feet. “Her neural implants are malfunctioning, producing irregular amounts of hormones than her body can cope with anymore.” He glanced back at the woman, “she’s dying Mr Gates, I don’t know any other way to explain it to you.”
“That can’t be right!” James said angrily, “you created her! You’re the one who designed the implant, how can you not know how to fix it if it’s malfunctioning!?”
Wyatt manhandled James away from Sydney, not wanting to distress her further. “Now listen to me,” he said firmly once they were out of earshot, “I care about that girl like she was my own daughter so don’t act like I don’t care about what she’s going through. Secondly, I might be able to operate but not in her current state… she’s beyond my help right now, do you understand what I’m saying? She’s too sick for me start cutting her open and expect her to survive! It’s just impossible!”
James beheld the man with unadulterated anger. During the months in which he’d known Sydney he’d only ever heard her talk about this man, her ‘father’ in encouraging tones. Somehow, her devotion, her faith in the doctor had given him hope that he might be able to save her, that he might care enough to find some way! Now he could see that hope had been a false one, this man might have raised Sydney but despite his protests to the contrary he had no paternal feelings towards her. He couldn’t, or he would never give up on her so easily.
“Well Mr Wyatt, I don’t believe anything is impossible,” James said bitterly, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair and pulling it on as he headed towards the door.
“You’re a fool if you think you can do anything to save her!” Wyatt said with annoyance, “nothing will… she needs a miracle right now.”
“Take care of Syd,” James said, directed to Jerry who had suddenly rose to his feet as he saw him about to leave.
“J-James…? Wh-where are y-you g-g-going?” the nervous inventor stuttered out.
James looked back over his shoulder, glaring at Wyatt, “to find a miracle.”
James Needs Mel's Help
Monday, 24 November 2003 – 10:34pm
The Lounge, Washington DC
James hadn’t been waiting long, not more than five minutes but he was already anxiously glancing in the direction of the door as he waited for Melissa Hartson to arrive. He’d made contact with the woman only six hours ago, well, contact was the wrong word. Knowing about Observer’s power and his ability to monitor phone calls and other modes of communication via electric medium had made it almost impossible to get a message to the woman. He’d had to hack into the hotel register database, find out where she was staying and send a messenger to wait outside the building until she appeared to deliver his note. It was old fashioned and slow and an abhorrence to a technowiz like himself.
Still, despite the obvious risks he had taken, (hacking into the database was almost like leaving a paper trail for Observer should he choose to follow) he was certain that the result would be worth it. The small amount of information Melissa had ventured on their first meeting was enough to convince him that she’d had some contact with Observer. Her comment about the infamous WAIT incident in 1991 and her final warning not to contact her through the usual channels echoed that of Sara too closely to be coincidental. At any rate, a conspiracy theorist like himself didn’t believe in coincidence.
James scrutinised the door for what must have been the hundredth time. There was also another motive for his contacting Melissa, one that had given him great pains to think about over the past twelve hours. If Dr Wyatt could be correct then Sydney’s health was in a critical state, one that he might not be able to rectify even with his extensive medical knowledge of Sydney’s altered anatomy. James didn’t know if Mel could do anything about that, she was a Meta and he’d heard on occasion of Metas that could heal or repair cellular damage but the real question was did Mel possess any of those powers?
*Well I’ll say this for the guy he certainly travels in style!* Mel looked around the interior of the limo and smiled. There was so much leather in there she almost expected it to ‘moo.’ James’ message had caught her by surprise, after the long silence on both Saturday and Sunday she thought she’d managed to scare him off. Alternatively cursing him as a dilettante adventurer with an overblown ego who she hoped she’d never see again and staring at the phone willing it to ring in spite of her warning Mel had had to laugh at herself occasionally – did all his ‘dates’ go through this ritual?
Unfortunately the message hadn’t told her what he wanted but at least the medium showed he’d taken her seriously. A hand written note to an obviously confused messenger suggested James had made the requisite connections and realised her enemy was very technically adept. The rest of the note had confused her momentarily but then she realised the logic. The only people likely to report this meeting were the local gossip sheets and she doubted Observer paid much attention to them.
So here she was after two days of silence from everyone allies and enemies alike stepping out of a limo to see Vic Meranti play the lounge and wondering what she was doing.
*Saving the world.*
James spotted the blue haired woman almost immediately as she entered the club. Indeed she was most difficult to ignore and not only because of her extravagant hair colour, James noticed several heads swing in her direction following her as she moved a little uncertainly through the room. He had to admit she did look stunning, much different from how she had the last time he’d met her at the Smithsonian. Her long hair flowed freely about her shoulders and a sheathe of black satin clung to her willowy frame emphasising her slight curves to maximum effect while on her feet a pair of high strappy shoes made her appear dizzyingly tall.
James rose to his feet as the woman caught his eye and headed in his direction. Even from this distance he could tell that she would tower over him by a good few inches and wondered if she’d deliberately chosen such an outfit to try and throw him off balance.
“Melissa…” he grinned, greeting her warmly as though she were an intimate acquaintance. He quickly kissed her cheek and took her hand, “you look amazing,” he said, not quite able to erase every trace of surprise from his voice, “been working out lately?”
Mel's glance took in James' well-muscled frame. “Not as muscular as you, James,” her smile held more than a trace of sardonic amusement. The man before her had known any number of the world's most beautiful women, that she could have an effect even one so mild was a welcome boost to her flagging ego.
As they sat Mel kept his hand in hers and she leant forward. “So why didn’t you tell me you were coming to Washington? Your call was such a surprise.”
“Well I’m full of surprises,” James shot back with another grin, gesturing for a waiter to approach. When the young boy had left he pulled Mel in closer so that he could whisper in her ear. “I have something very important to talk to you about but first I need to know, what did you mean last time when you mentioned the WAIT incident?”
Mel giggled for the benefit of any observers and whispered back trying to look for all the world like a young woman flirting with an admirer. “You’ve made the connection or you wouldn’t have contacted me the way you did. WAIT messed up in ‘91, the AI they were after survived.”
James nodded, she was right it was the only logical conclusion to draw from everything that had happened in the last few days. Sara and Observer were both AI and then of course Mel had brought up Zycrom and WAIT. “Okay…” he said, focusing on her hand which he still held comfortably in his own. “In that case my next question is how much are you involved in this?”
“Deep enough. I need help to get out but there are complications.” Really this ought to be simple if the son of Deltanet’s founder went to WAIT with even a shred of evidence to suggest that Zyrcom had an illegal AI there’d be an investigation started in a flash but Sara made things tricky not to mention Mel wasn’t entirely sure how secure Ela’s status would be if Observer fell.
“I’m listening,” said James, leaning in a little closer. Now he knew the reason behind her previous behaviour, the uncertainty, the paranoia, the distrustful nature, if she was as deeply involved as she intimated then he was amazed that she even left her home.
"Getting rid of the AI is pretty easy in theory. All we need is a WAIT investigation, if they realise they missed the first time they'll be zealous enough this time. That's nice enough in theory but in practice it's likely to result in some collateral damage I'd like to avoid. That of course doesn't even address the fact that WAIT is highly unlikely to believe a profession poker player with no official connection to the companies involved."
A smile crept across James’ face that had nothing to do with maintaining their cover. “So you think someone like me, with my particularly high profile and connections would more successfully convince WAIT to investigate this claim? Even if that were true would it really be enough to stop Observer? The impression I get from Sara is that he’s almost omnipotent, surely he’d intercept any query to WAIT concerning his existence? Damn it Melissa, if he has the power to create and control a globalised government then I don’t see how WAIT is gonna be much of a threat.”
Mel arched an eyebrow and managed with no little difficulty to conceal her shock. "You've met them?" Mel shook her head and closed her eyes this changed things. Changed them a lot but her basic plan still remained. "That's just it he doesn't have the power to create a world government let alone control it. Any conspiracy relies on secrecy since if exposed a great deal of their power vanishes I won't deny Observer is powerful but if exposed a great deal of that power is going to be spent keeping himself alive. WAIT won't bring him down but it will keep him busy defending himself long enough for someone else to finish the job."
“I met them both a few months ago, they were wanting a place to hide out, now I see that was probably an attempt to conceal their existence, maybe from WAIT, Zycrom, I don’t know, all I know is I helped them do it, goddamn it.” James screwed his eyes up in self-recrimination. “Maybe you’re right, maybe if Observer was exposed it would be enough to put stop to his plans. I just don’t know if Delta Net can be the one to do it,” at Mel’s look he quickly added, “look, I may help run certain aspects but it’s still my father’s company, I hate to say it but he has close links with Zycrom and enough money invested to not want to rock the boat.”
"Considering the two companies are in the same business and your father's reputation I'm not sure WAIT would pay anymore attention to you than they would me though the reasons would be different but," Mel's dropped to an even lower whisper forcing James to move closer, "considering what you feel comfortable doing to our duly elected government officials I'm sure you have access to the right channels to get the ball rolling without revealing who pulled the lever."
James smiled a little, looking off to one side as he considered what she has just said. “A more suspicious man might think that was a threat,” he said, watching her closely for any reaction she might give. Mel’s face was as impassive as always, confirming what he’d decided before, that this woman must be one shrewd poker player.
Mel hid a grimace, yes it had been a threat and Mel wasn't comfortable threatening somebody who might be an ally. *Maybe there's something to Sara's position after all...*
"Not a threat James merely an observation whatever you hoped to gain from your little indiscretion it wasn't going to be aired publicly. That means you must have contacts in various backrooms otherwise what would be the point? Oh and just to obscure the issue even more it isn't Zyrcom that needs investigating it's Benson Pharmaceuticals."
Mel suddenly smiled more broadly maybe she could put another spanner in Observer's gears, it would no doubt irritate Sara but she could deal with that, while you're at it maybe you should have a word with the International Committee for Ethics in reproductory Medicine. I'm sure they'd love to hear just how Feldman was going to make people immortal."
James narrowed his eyes at the woman in scrutiny, he sometimes wished they could just say outright what they were getting at rather than speaking in insinuating back talk. He’d known about Feldman’s immortality project but had heard several theories on how she might achieve it from mummification to some potion of eternal youth. “Thanks for the tip,” he said finally, “though you know as well as I do that Feldman’s unfortunate demise has no doubt enforced a cessation of any sort of inquiry, out of respect of course.”
He paused for a moment, glancing around the room at the other couples. He had brought Sydney here not long ago and now… “There was actually another reason why I wanted to see you…”
"Oh?" Well quid pro quo was pretty much the order of the day and if James was going to help her then Mel would at least owe him some pretty big favours obviously he already had something in mind.
“I know you’re a meta,” he whispered quietly, careful to make sure they weren’t overheard, the current animosity towards meta’s meant that it was doubly important. “And Sydney told me about your ability to fire a sort of lightning bolt…” he sighed, finding it difficult to ask such a personal question. “I was wondering what other powers you might have, more importantly, if you might have any healing abilities.”
"I take it you aren't on good terms with Sara then?" Mel shook her head forestalling James' obvious questions "I'm sorry my abilities don't run to that particular area." The sudden disappointment in James' demeanour was like a knife and Mel hurried on before it turned to something worse. "I do know someone who has that particular gift and she's the sort of person who'd help just because you needed it. I can't unfortunately speak for her though."
James nodded in understanding, “of course not, I wouldn’t normally ask except-” he stopped short, feeling a sudden pang of anxiety, “I think Sydney is dying.” He shook his head quickly, “no, not so serious, that’s just-” he looked up, feeling Melissa’s eyes on him. “I know the two of you didn’t exactly hit it off, but she’s a good person, I, I believe she’s capable of doing great things and I-”
"It's ok..." The underlying tension of this whole meeting came into focus for Mel then. It hadn't been about Observer or how to bring him down but about a young woman lying on a sick bed somewhere and James hoping she could help. No She and Sydney hadn't hit it off but Mel wasn't going to condemn someone on the basis of two meetings, one of which Sydney hadn't said a word in. "Ela has a kind heart. I can't believe she'd say no."
James breathed a sigh of relief at Mel’s last words, he just felt so impotent, sure he could hack into a computer and endeavour to expose a potential scandal but when it came to matters of life and death he had no power. Then there was the whole issue of his feelings for Sydney which he was still so confused about, he knew his growing affection for her was beginning to cloud his judgement but he felt powerless to counteract it.
“Thank you,” he said finally, offering the woman a smile of gratitude. “If you can talk to your friend, the sooner the better. Perhaps there’s a way that we can help one another out,” he squeezed Mel’s hand a little before relinquishing it. “Then we can all get what we want.”
"She's at the hotel. Why don't we play out our little deception?" Mel motioned towards the dance floor, "and afterwards I can ask her. If she says yes we can come by tomorrow."
James smiled lightly as Mel rose to her feet and began heading towards the half-crowded dance floor. She took his hand, towering above him on those dangerous looking heels of hers. James held Mel steadily, his free hand resting just above her waist. He happened to glance over at the stage as Vic began singing a new song and caught the old crooner’s eye, James frowned a little at the gleam of incredulity followed by cynicism that flashed through his face.
“Strangers in the night… exchanging glances,
Wond’ring in the night, what were the chances
We’d be sharing love before the night was through
Something in your eyes was so inviting
Something in your smile was so exciting
Something in my heart told me I must have you”
*Great choice of song Vic!* he thought with an inward sigh as he lightly spun Mel around the dance floor, weaving between the other dances with ease and confident grace.
Mel laughed softly, after the earlier tension of their conversation as well as the pressure of the last few days it felt good to just relax and enjoy herself. It was just a shame that Nic wasn't there. Mel faltered as that thought struck her, the incongruity of it surprised her. She felt James' arm tighten around her waist preventing her from tottering over on her heels. Given a fraction of a second to collect herself she relaxed back into the dance and let herself enjoy the moment.
James dipped Mel low and swung her back upright, the whole experience made him remember his dance with Sydney and how nervous he’d felt during the whole ordeal. In comparison he now danced with comfort and little thought, reliving those moves from countless dance classes as a young boy.
”Strangers in the night, two lonely people
We were strangers in the night
Up to the moment when we said our first hello, little did we know
Love was just a glance away, a warm embracing dance away”
Vic continued to observe the couple as he sang, he couldn’t help but smile, Jimmy sure had a knack of choosing interesting women to date. He grinned as he spun the woman a merry jig across the dance floor while the last few bars brought the song to an end.
”And ever since that night, we've been together
Lovers at first sight, in love forever
It turned out so right for strangers in the night!”
They stayed on the floor for another couple of songs. Mel caught Meranti's inquiring gaze a couple of times but she dismissed it by now she was used to people looking at her instead she enjoyed the man's skill and obvious pleasure in his art. In this more intimate setting she understood what all the fuss was about. The one time she'd seen Vic Meranti before had been when she'd been dragged to a show by a now ex-boyfriend. The setting hadn't suited the singer and Mel had pretty much forgotten the night.
When his set was finally over Vic made his excuses with a joke exited the stage and headed to the bar he obviously enjoyed being among his fans and this was another aspect of the man that Las Vegas hadn't shown. Still the night wasn't about pleasure; Mel met James' eyes and leant forward, "a couple of drinks, a little more conversation and I think we can get out of here..."
James half nodded as they also approached the bar and ordered some more drinks. He noticed his old friend talking to a couple of young women at the far end and smiled, well if it was conversation she was wanting… “Hey Vic!” he shouted, gaining the man’s attention. He waved him over while leaning in towards Mel, “he’s an old friend of mine, why don’t I introduce you? I think you’ll like him.”
“Hi pally!” said Vic as he joined the couple. His eyes quickly took in the unusual appearance of James’ companion, her blue hair and shimmering eye colour… he couldn’t help but wonder if she was a meta like himself. “So…” he began slowly, he could sense that this wasn’t your usual date, there was an unusual amount of tension in the air. “What’s down with you cats?”
James smiled, taking his drink as it appeared on the bar. “Vic this is a friend of mine, Melissa Hartson, Melissa, this is the infamous Vic Meranti.”
Vic smiled broadly, trying to lower the amount of tension in the area. Though infamous was certainly the right word to describe him, given the reputation that he’d built up for both flirting and drinking. Somehow though he got the feeling that Melissa wouldn’t exactly be interested in him flirting with her – although the feeling he got from her wasn’t the kind that told him it would be a bad idea.
“Well, not really that infamous anymore – but still, it’s a pleasure to meet you Melissa. Always nice to have a beautiful woman make the scene.”
Mel blushed that was another thing she hadn't heard often enough recently. "Thanks." Mel settled back "You have a wonderful voice and this setting…" Mel glanced around the room "seems to suit far better than the last time I had the pleasure of your company"
Vic raised an eyebrow at that, hardly missing a beat when he replied. She’d been at a concert or something, the two venues were remarkably different. “Thanks. I always like places like this, reminds me of starting out.” The bartended delivered his drink, getting thanks and a generous tip. There was definitely something *Good god, Jimmy. Can’t you date normal women?*
“I think there’s a table over there, if you two want to sit down,” he motioned to somewhere in the back. “It’s a little more private in that area, and people probably wouldn’t notice you playing the backseat bingo.”
It took a great effort of will for James not to respond to the crooner's little jibe about him and Mel, he could almost hear his thoughts now, *First Sydney now this one - Jimmy sure knows how to pick 'em!*
"I'm sure we can manage to restrain ourselves this time," he said with barely controlled irritation as they all moved over to an empty table.
"The backseat bingo?”
Mel raised an eyebrow at James and smirked. She wasn't entirely sure what Vic was implying but considering the sudden surge of embarrassment that went through James she had a pretty good idea "Well I'm sorry I don't know what you’ve been doing with other dates but the backseat stopped being an acceptable location in my late teens."
*I don't think it ever stopped being inappropriate for James* thought Vic but he knew when to stop with the teasing, especially as he started to observe Melissa closer. She had the look about her of someone who didn't seem too trusting, got in over her head. A true paranoid if there ever was one. "Whatever makes you cats happy," he started, sitting down. "You two seem a little jumpy tonight. Need to stop taking yourselves too seriously, or you'll end up seeing spies everywhere."
Mel's eyes narrowed that was an entirely too perceptive comment from the crooner especially on top of a few other things. the man had said. "You mean there aren't a few hear right now?" Mel tried to keep the tone light while wondering just how much Vic knew. What was worse she couldn't seem to get a read on the guy. Maybe it had something to do with his job but he was more guarded than anyone she'd met with the possible exception of Ela.
"You sing in as many joints as I have, you get a feel for people, and there isn't any spy feeling tonight." He hated when first impressions were catastrophically right. "So, how'd Jimmy manage to pick you up?"
"A mutual acquaintance got us together. Turns out we have a lot in common." Talking about herself wasn't something she wanted to do this was just supposed to be about finalizing their cover for the evening. "So how about you two? How did you meet?"
James smiled, taking a gulp of his beer, "Oh we go way back," he grinned, "back to my younger, more reckless days when Vic used to do the circuit in Vega City. You remember that Vic? Playing on that pretentious river boat, celebrating pop's latest acquisition? Boy is that one night I'd rather not remember..."
Vic laughed in remembrance. "How can I forget, pally? The fish had less to drink than you, since you didn't have the jets to know when to stop yet."
"Yeah, yeah," said James scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. In truth it had been just one of many nights, dozens, hundreds of nights in which he'd idled away his time either drunk or using some sort of chemical substance. When he thought about those times now they seemed a million miles away from his life now as a self-proclaimed 'freedom fighter' for the masses. He sighed, eyeing up his bottle of beer before replacing it disinterestedly on the table. There were more important things right now, such as meeting this Ela person who would hopefully be able to help Sydney...
Vic gave a little wink, able to tell that James was glad to be out of the spotlight. It was what he did best, after all, and storytelling was just another form of performance like so much else in life. "Oh yeah. Once you lose enough money to Frank and Dean playing poker, you tend not to forget it." Stopping for a moment to take a good drink of his own martini before beginning, Vic picked the story of one of his more interesting poker games, which ended with Frank Sinatra cleaning everyone's clocks.
Mel finished the last of her drink and glanced at James. Vic was an excellent raconteur and the last hour or so had slipped by almost unnoticed but the tension was build in his frame and it was becoming obvious he wanted to be elsewhere so Mel leant forward and placed her hand on Vic's forearm, she gave her most disarming smile more for the other occupants of the lounge than for vic himself.
"Well wonderful as this has been James is getting fidgety," she flicked a sly glance at her 'date', "and we really ought to be going.” The three of them stood and Mel placed a kiss on Vic's cheek. "Look me up the next time you're in Vegas. I so want to get you on the other side of a card table."
James shook the man’s hand as they left, wondering what he must have made of the situation with Mel. His reputation often preceded him in the public arena but Vic knew him differently. As they stepped out into the street his car was ready and waiting, like a sleek black predator lingering in the night. He held the door open for Mel and then followed her inside.
“I really appreciate this,” he said as the car started on its journey back to her hotel. “If your friend can help, I’ll be forever in her debt.”
"Don't worry if you can get me out Observers grasp I'll be forever in yours and truly I'm not sure there's much Ela can't cure short of death itself. I've seen her do some fairly amazing things recently." Mel settled back against the leather seat and let her head spin a little. She'd probably had one drink too many and between that and the fact that her altered biochemistry was taking the opportunity to complain about her excess she suddenly felt a touch nauseous. "Ohhhh!" Mel raised her hands and rubbed her temples. "The bar staff must love him."
“Vic’s a pro, in most aspects of his life,” chuckled James before observing her massaging the sides of her head. “Are you okay?” he asked with genuine concern, he’d noticed that she’d had quite a few drinks in the last hour though certainly not that many.
"Meta humanity has its downsides. I don't tolerate alcohol well at least not in large amounts and tonight counted as a large amount. It'll pass.”
*You could have just drank less.*
*Where would have been the fun in that?*
“Then never go out on an all nighter with Vic, you might never survive!” laughed James, the last time he’d got into a drinking competition with the ageing singer he had been sitting under the table while Vic was still relatively sober. The man had an unnerving constitution for alcohol.
The car suddenly rolled to a stop as they reached the hotel. James looked up, surprised that their journey had taken such a short time, usually the city was bumper to bumper with cars this time of night, he could only suppose the meta attack and the subsequent travel restrictions had encouraged people to stay in their homes.
Mel reached for the door and threw a reassuring look back at James. "I'll be in touch tomorrow, and don’t worry…” she said, stepping out into the street, “things will be okay.”
Sundance meets Mel and Ela
Tuesday, 25 November 2003 – 10am
Washington DC
Soleil walked slowly around the large group of gathered humans. Most of them were carrying signs and chanting loudly. The words “Earth for the Humans” rang out in the crowd, grating on Soleil’s nerves, but she kept her mouth shut and tried to remain impartial. Professor Walther was constantly drumming into their heads that despite what they often saw or read, journalists were supposed to be impartial observers, reporting what they saw or heard, not what they felt. “Opinions are for the Editorials,” he was always saying. “You can have one when you’ve earned it.”
So Sol simply stayed on the outskirts, making comments into the small tape recorder she held. She wore a press pass on the hem of her sweater, which hung down over her jeans near her left hip. She also was carrying a camera on a strap around her neck. Occasionally she would lift the camera and snap a shot of one or more of the peaceful protestors as they sat cross legged on the lawn of the White House, where the protest was taking place. A line of heavily armed police officers faced them, their expressions blank. Most of them stared, deliberately, beyond the protestors, watching for any trouble that might be headed their way. A few glanced skyward now and again as if expecting an attack from the air. Considering some of the metas that had been in the news, that wasn’t too foolhardy an expectation.
Sol felt heartsick as she watched the goings on here. This sit-in was to go on all day and all night, but it was just one of many such protests she and her friends were covering in Washington this week. After the attack on the Summit, the number of anti-meta protests had skyrocketed, and the support for some sort of anti-metahuman legislation had grown considerably. Soleil felt more and more out of place as even some of her friends on the paper began to voice support for those measures, from the simple to the extreme. She had this huge secret, and keeping it made her feel as if she were all alone in the world. But, ever since becoming Sundance, Soleil couldn’t simply sit by while people talked about registration or control. She told her friends she opposed those things. She wasn’t loud, but she was adamant. If only her opinions were the only thing that set her apart, then maybe she wouldn’t feel like such an outsider.
As Soleil pondered her own situation, she wandered away from the protest group a bit, coming to a tree. She leaned back against it and stared up at the brightly lit sky. The air was crisp and clear, and there were only a few puffy white clouds above her above her. The sun shone brightly, but the air was chilly. She shivered slightly, wishing the sun was warmer, and that she didn’t have to be so covered up. She always felt sort of depressed in the winter, when the sun’s rays didn’t shine quite as strongly on the world, or her.
*Yup, I’m definitely more a “girl of summer”, no question,* Sol thought, staring up at the clouds. Suddenly, in her peripheral vision, Soleil thought she spotted something weird in the sky. She turned her head, and saw to her horror that a group of familiar looking metas were rapidly approaching on something that resembled flying surfboards. Soleil scanned the crowd quickly, realizing immediately that they had no idea what was going on.
*I have to do something,*she thought. She started to stride forward, then stopped, glancing down at herself. She couldn’t very well intervene like this. She had a “secret identity” to protect. She, luckily, had her costume in her backpack. She’d gotten into the habit of carrying it around in San Diego, and hadn’t quite gotten out of the habit on this trip. *Good thing too.* Sol searched for a place to go to change, noticing an ally down the block, which appeared from this distance to be empty.
She sprinted for it. Just as she got to the, fortunately abandoned alley, she heard screams suddenly from the protestors. Apparently Mako and his crew had arrived on the scene. Soleil hurried, ducking behind some trash bins. She quickly began to pull on her costume.
"So what else did this 'James' talk to you about last night, Mel?" Ela asked cheekily as they crossed a wide expanse of grassy lawn. They were heading for the address Mel had been given for Sydney, to see if there was anything she could do for the woman's condition. The symptoms sounded strange to Ela, but she was determined to give it her best shot - she never felt right about doing anything less. Which brought her in mind of the whole cloning problem and her expression darkened for a moment as she was reminded once more of Observer's threats. She still noticed that Mel hadn't responded yet, though, and brought herself out of her funk to prod her friend. "Well?"
Mel muttered distractedly, "What? Oh, just business. That's all..."
Ela cocked her head. "Riiight. Sure." Any further comment on her part, however, was interrupted by the sounds of screaming and general disturbance up ahead. Ela blinked. There seemed to be a large gathering of people, but some were scattering, running in fear, while the rest surged as though caught in a tide. A man ran past the pair of women, yelling, "Run! Run for your lives! Meta attack!!"
*God dammit, are they trying to get us exterminated?* Mel unfortunately couldn't see what was happening up ahead; for that she needed to get airborne and that meant switching on her forcefield. A quick glance around showed a sheltered spot out of sight of the majority of the crowd. "Damn, that'll have to do."
*Oh right, so now you can just appear and help out huh? Why not last week?*
“Because, dammit!... I need to check this out. You'll be ok?"
Ela nodded silently, making shooing motions at Mel. She did wonder who she'd been talking to at first. 'Because, dammit' really didn't seem directed at her, though the rest was. But she didn't have time to ponder on that now. Mel disappeared behind the corner of a building, but Ela couldn't just stand still and watch. She ran forward, hearing the cries of pain and knowing she would be able to alleviate some of that pain. The thought of what danger she was running into didn't enter her head at all.
She had barely reached the periphery of the mayhem when she saw Mel's familiar blue streak zooming over the crowd, just above street level, her appearance eliciting fresh screams from the already traumatised crowd. Ela watched in horror as a shark-like man took a bite out of someone's arm, then she stumbled into someone lying on the ground. They looked sick and sweaty, and Ela instinctively dropped to her knees to lay her hands on the man. It didn't take her long to discover what the problem was.
"Poison," she muttered, and began working quietly to eradicate the toxin from the man's system. Luckily he didn't seem to have a large dose of it. As she worked, Ela kept an eye on the chaos around her. She spotted what appeared to be a second meta as she saw a woman in a gold two-piece outfit that was so blatantly inappropriate for the cold November weather that the woman had to be using supernatural powers just to stay warm. She wasn't quite sure where Mel was now - maybe she'd landed and her glow was lost in the throng.
The crowd recoiled from Mel's sudden appearance like a mollusc from fire, but at least in the air she could see what was happening. An anthropomorphic shark was pretty much in a feeding frenzy taking a bite out of anything he could reach and with his speed and power that was a lot of people. Deeper into the crowd people swirled around someone but Mel couldn't see clearly enough; she could however see the trail of bodies left in that vortex's wake.
*Ok, Shark first. Time to get his attention.* Mel swooped lower and, carefully avoiding any of the humans around the creature, ignited her energy lance. Silver energy pulsed downward and scorched a line in the concrete towards Mako then Mel yelped and tumbled sideways as a flying surfboard collided with her.
"None of that now," called the man aboard it as Mel struggled to get control back before she tumbled to the ground.
Sundance raced into the crowd, dodging the bodies of injured victims of Mako and his gang. She prayed that she hadn't been too long, that these maniacs hadn't managed to kill anyone yet, but she feared the worst. As she sped through the panicked people, she spotted a short, Asian man off to the side, apparently struggling to slip out of the melee. She didn't quite know why he'd caught her attention, but she veered off in his direction. He looked so vulnerable. Maybe she could help him and some of the others to safety before she tried to stop this.
Mr. Nobody had assumed the guise of a small, harmless looking man. He moved with exaggerated care through the crowd, carrying in his hand the small, cell phone-like device Hardware had devised. The innocuous looking thing was actually a damaging weapon. It sent out a short burst of concentrated energy that worked like a neurotoxin, debilitating its victim with terribly painful spasms. As he passed through the crowd, every ten feet or so, Mr. Nobody would aim the device at a likely human and push the trigger button. He noted with interest that they all fell immediately to the ground, writhing and screaming.
*Humans are so... fascinating,* he thought. *Really barely removed from the animals they so look down upon.* Mr. Nobody chuckled as a healthy looking young man with an inordinate amount of muscles fell victim to his toy.
Sundance came within hearing distance of the little man, and was surprised that he seemed to be laughing. She stopped and watched him for a moment. *Is he hysterical?* she thought. Sundance followed the man slowly through the crowd, and in a few moments she realized, to her horror, that he was not the helpless victim he appeared to be. She watched him stop every so often and aim the device he held in his hand (one she'd mistakenly thought was some sort of flip cell phone) at someone. Invariably, the person he aimed it at fell to the ground wracked with some unseen pain.
Making a quick decision, Sundance ran up to the old man and grabbed him by the shoulder with one hand, while ripping the device out of his hand with the other.
"Who are you?!" she demanded, brandishing the device. "And what the hell is this thing?"
Mr. Nobody frowned in consternation. He had been having so much fun with the Neurostunner he hadn't noticed this "hero's" approach. Too bad. "Oh dear, gold lame?" Mr. Nobody eyed Sundance distastefully. "That's the best you could do? You poor, poor thing."
Sundance stepped back, dropping her hand from his shoulder in shock. *Is he kidding?* she thought. *Now, making jokes in the middle of a fight? Who does that?* At that moment, Sundance heard the sounds more terrified screaming behind her. She glanced over her shoulder and saw a glowing blue woman hovering over the crowd. She appeared to fire some sort of energy into the throng. When Sundance turned back to the Asian man a moment later, she found he had disappeared from sight. Confused, she turned around quickly searching for him.
The man lying before Ela blinked and sat up slowly, his eyes wide with shock as he brushed her hand away. “What are you doing?” he demanded.
Ela frowned in confusion for a second. *Isn’t it obvious?* “I was making sure you were ok,” she said quietly, “You didn’t look well.”
The man looked around wildly. “I don’t want you. Where did she go? I want to see her.”
Ela was half watching the woman in the gold halter top, her features darkening as she saw the meta assault an elderly Asian man who was trying to call for help on his cell phone. She turned her attention back to the man before her and tried to smile. “Who did? The woman in gold?” Ela thought maybe the female meta had attacked this man, too.
“No, no, she was in this leather bustier thing – really hot, if you know what I mean…” The man began to get up, looking around.
Ela could see and hear the devastation around her, and despite the man’s obvious disorientation there was nothing more she could do for him physically. “Maybe you’d be safer leaving here,” she suggested, but the man shrugged her off and wandered deeper into the fray. She bit her lip in worry, but her attention was demanded elsewhere.
A man flying a surfboard scooted overhead, *Ok, that’s not normal,* nearly knocking her down, but she somehow kept her feet and stumbled towards the next person she could see – a young woman who was convulsing as though she’d been electrocuted. Once more Ela knelt and did what she did best.
Mel got control inches from the ground. Staring at the gravelly surface she cursed and flipped herself right side up. Taking a moment to get her bearings she looked around for the guy on the surfboard. She spotted him buzzing the crowd a grin on his face. Mel gained altitude; she wasn't risking get close to the shark's teeth which meant she needed altitude which in turn meant dealing with surfer dude.
The man grinned mockingly at her as he pivoted the board neatly in the air catching a young woman in the back. He flipped Mel a mocking salute and gunned his board obviously looking to ram her. He jinked around obviously trying to avoid an energy attack but Mel didn't care. She could dance in the air, literally turn on a geometric point. Taking him down was going to be easy. They raced towards each other and at the moment when to prow of his surfboard would have impaled her Mel simply changed direction. Corkscrewing around the board there was a brief flash as Mel fired and simply cut the board in two.
Hardware's mocking grin faded when the blue heroine dodged him at the last second, passing him and using some energy attack to cleave his airboard in two. He quickly broke the link with the board’s guidance system and flipped off of it, going into a roll to minimize the damage from the fall. He hoped the two pieces of the board wouldn't hurt anyone two badly when they struck. Once he was on the ground, Hardware gingerly got to his feet. He was standing in the middle of the crowd. He hadn't hurt himself too badly, but he was banged up. Glancing up, he saw the blue chick headed for Mako.
"Oh well, I tried," Hardware said aloud, not too concerned about the shark-man. Hardware slung the canvas bag on his back around and began digging through it, searching for his stun baton. The weapon would incapacitate the humans and might prove adequate protection against the few heroes milling about. Once it was in his hands, Hardware began making his way towards through the crowd, heading for the nearby street so he could get out of the melee before he got really hurt.
Ela saw the flash of blue light and smiled to herself - Mel was at least up there fighting the good fight. And she... well, she was doing what she could. The woman's nervous system had been severely jolted, but it was relatively easy for Ela to fix, so she'd already moved onto the next person. At least the woman had just got up and run off when Ela had finished with her. She worried about who or what had attacked the first man she'd healed, and she spotted a few others – all men – lying on the ground who looked to be in a similarly poisoned state. There were just so many injured people, she didn't know how she'd get to them all - but for now she just tried to concentrate on getting to the closest ones she could reach. In the chaos it was impossible to sort out who needed her help more, and she fervently hoped that none would die before she got to them.
She heard a scream nearby and looked up from the man she was currently working on in time to be hit in the face with a spray of blood. The shark-man had run down one of the fleeing protesters, chomping viciously on the screaming woman's arm. Ela could see the shark-man's mouth was stained red, and shuddered when he turned his cold eyes to meet hers. He advanced towards her and she let go of the man she was healing to scuttle backwards, her cries of fear mingling with those of the crowd around her.
Sundance was scanning the crowd for the little Asian man, but he seemed to have disappeared completely. She suddenly caught sight of a girl kneeling by one of the victims. A moment later, the woman stopped twitching and sprang to her feet, running off without a word. *One of the good guys,* Sundance thought to herself as the girl moved on to the next injured person. Sundance gasped as she caught sight of Mako a few feet away from the girl. He attacked a woman, chomping on her arm, and the girl looked up at the woman's scream. Mako turned his attention to the healer, and Sundance was spurred to movement. She raced over towards the girl, leaping over the bodies in her way.
With the idiot on the flying board out of the equation Mel could finally concetrate on the monster doing most of the damage in this 'little' incident. *The news is going to have a field day over this.*
*I don't know You're doing a pretty good job of doing the Bakarran’s work for them.*
*Shut up!*
The crowd was dispersing rapidly though there seemed to be a cluster of diehards congregating some way away. *Strange, that's mainly men.*
*Manly men?*
*You're quoting Men in Tights now?*
Mel ignore Sym further and looked for the shark She spotted him just as he ripped a young woman's arm off at the elbow. Blood fountained into the air – a crimson arc that Mel watched hit Ela in the face.
"Ela!" The sphere had left Mel's fingers before the word was even spoken. Mel had a moment of panic and the sphere detonated short. The shockwave hammered into the creature’s back but thankfully nothing more.
Ela could only stare in horror as the shark-man loomed over her, his teeth glinting redly in the pale wintry sunshine. Her screams grew ragged, and the man she'd been healing hurried to all fours and crawled up to a stumbling run away from the terrifying apparition. Faintly Ela heard her name being called, and blinked when the shark-man was distracted by a blast behind him. Ela gasped for air, a wave of relief leaving her feeling weak when she saw Mel's form standing resolutely behind him. But movement caught Ela's eye as the gold-clad meta raced towards them.
"Mel, watch out!" Ela yelled, pointing to the new arrival.
Sundance reached Mako just after the blue woman sent some sort of sphere of energy at him which missed. She moved in between Mako and the healer as Mako turned towards the woman. Sundance heard the girl call a warning out to the woman, but she focused on Mako.
"Mako," Sundance called out, trying to catch the shark-man's attention. He turned around, grinning.
"Sundance," Mako stepped towards her, preparing to strike.
Mel's crackling energy beam appeared between the pair. "I hate to break up such a tender reunion. Shark-guy, give up now and I'll let you keep all your limbs." Mel glanced at Ela then the woman in gold. She didn't know the story but the shark was a definite threat. The woman was an unknown she'd just keep an eye on.
Mako chuckled deeply, glancing from one woman to the other. "Mmmm, now we're really gonna party," he said, charging Sundance.
Sundance dropped to the ground to avoid his teeth, sweeping her leg out. Mako stumbled forward, bellowing, but didn't drop. He spun around immediately. "I'm gonna enjoy chewin' you up, little girl," Mako snarled, blood dripping from his mouth. His black eyes flashed with fury.
Panting slightly from her brush with death, Ela backed away from the area determined to get as far away from the shark-man as possible. The gold woman didn't seem to be his friend, though, as she squared off against him rather than attacking Mel, as Ela had supposed. Confused, she shook her head and began her search for more wounded to tend to. She didn't have to look far.
The woman the shark-man had attacked was lying on the ground nearby, arterial blood gushing from her. Ela knew she had mere seconds to stop the woman from bleeding to death. She clamped her hands over the wound, physically staunching the flow of blood. The woman was already near unconsciousness, her eyelids fluttering as Ela began to delve into muscle, sinew and blood vessels, repairing the damage that the meta's sharp teeth had inflicted. Above her the sounds of furious struggle began and Ela winced every time she heard a blow land, hoping that it wasn't Mel who was being hurt.
Mel cursed yet again the woman in gold was fast and graceful and shark-guy was having trouble laying a hand on her but the fight was too fast too close and she couldn't get a clear shot. She could even risk a bolt as a distraction since it might work against her 'ally' rather than for them. Mel floated upwards and circled; a couple of clear shots and this fight was over.
*She's got it covered. What about those manly men?*
*Huh? Yeah.* A quick glance at where Ela had her hands on the injured woman and Mel narrowed her eyes, *You and I are going to have words, young lady.* Mel moved quickly towards the remaining crowd. Strangely they didn't seem to notice her, and she'd been right – apart from a scattering of a few women the crowd was made up of men.
Sundance didn't notice the blue woman leave. She was too busy brawling with Mako. He was fast and strong. She dodged many of his blows, but he still managed to land a few and Sundance was beginning to tire. She was never at her best in the winter. Her energy reserves weren't as high as they could be. She danced out of Mako's way in the nick of time and panted, watching wearily as he came in for another attack.
*I'm in trouble here,* Sundance thought. *If he manages to get that mouth on me, I'm done for.*
As before when she was in serious trouble, Sundance felt the energy gathering within her. This had happened a couple of times before when she was out on patrol and got into a scrape. She raised her hands, pleased to see the bright energy glowing around them. *Time to go on the offensive,* Sudance thought, charging Mako. The shark-man was surprised but he recovered quickly, facing her.
Mel skimmed over the crowd watching in amazement as she realised the crowd were jostling each other trying to get to the centre. Mel rose a little higher and gasped. A stunning woman stood smiling in a cleared space. Mel's gaze travelled upwards over perfect calves and thighs wrapped in soft black leather. There was a glimpse of pale flesh between those trousers and the bustier that cinched in her waist and presented the perfect pale globes of her breasts. Mel barely registered the woman's words as her blood red lips moved.
"Now, now, boys." A silk clad hand pushed at one of the men who got too close, "Give our heroine room."
Mel's blue glow faded from the scene, and Ela looked up from her position on the ground to see Mel leaving the gold woman and the shark man to fight it out alone.
"Help me!" The bleeding woman was no longer bleeding. Instead she gripped Ela's arm with her good hand and looked up at her in desperation.
"Shh, it's ok," Ela soothed, though she was far from feeling calm herself. "The man that attacked you is being dealt with. Do you think you can stand?"
She helped the woman up and pointed her towards the edge of the fighting. "Please, go to a hospital. I've patched you up, but you need a bandage." Truth was, Ela had healed the worst of it, but hadn't had the time to restore the arterial breach completely. The woman would have to be careful for a few days while her body finished healing itself naturally. Small puncture wounds still showed and there would be considerable bruising around the site of the bite, but it was a matter of priorities today – with so many injured, Ela couldn't afford to spend the time necessary to do anything more than get them out of danger.
Feeling the faint beginnings of tiredness, Ela scanned around for her next task, giving the gold woman's fight a wide berth. The woman seemed to be holding her own against the shark-man, and Ela resolved to find her when all this was over and thank her for her intervention.
Most of the crowd had managed to flee the site by now, except for a moderate sized clump of people hovering nearby. They didn't seem ready to run, or indeed frightened at all. Bodies lay on the ground, some bleeding, some twitching and some looking pale and waxy. There were so many, Ela worried that she'd never be able to get to them all. But some were being helped away by those still able to walk, at least. Mel's blue glow was shining from the throng of people further away, so Ela figured she had control over whatever was going on down there and proceeded to help the next person she found who needed it, a young boy - no more than ten – who was convulsing uncontrollably.
Sundance reached Mako and swung at him, catching the shark-man in the chest as he attempted to duck. Her glowing hands dealt a strong blow, sending him flying back a few feet and knocking him off his feet. Mako's eyes widened in shock as he flew through the air, landing hard. He scrambled to get up, but Sundance moved like lightning, attacking, her fists flying. She landed blow after blow, all of them supercharged. Mako tried to fend her off, but she was atop him, and she wasn't backing off. Sundance rained blows down on Mako's body and head. She finally drew back and swung with all her might, landing one on the end of his snout. Mako shook his head groggily, before falling back on the ground, out cold.
Gingerly, Sundance stood, backing away from Mako. She was out of breath and felt physically drained. The glow from her hands faded. Sundance slowly looked around. The healer was nearby still trying to help the injured. Sundance turned away from her and towards the remaining group of people off to the side. She couldn't help the healer, but presumably the blue woman was over there, and Sundance might be able to do something to help her. Wearily, Sundance ran towards the remaining crowd.
The woman took a breath and Mel's eyes flickered down and then back to that mouth. "And who are you, my sweet angel?"
"G-Gabriel." What would they taste like, Mel wondered, would they be sweet?
Pretty Poison swayed forward, a serpent approaching her prey. She was petite; even with four inch spike heels Mel over topped her by inches. Pretty Poison leant forward as Mel’s mind drifted . The silk-covered hands rested against Mel for a second before sinking through her forcefield. Another breath attracted Mel's attention.
"I'm Lily..."
Mel's attention was brought back to those rich red lips as a wash of heat flooded through her.
*Uh, Mel...*
Lily's neck craned upward and Mel stopped breathing as her mouth slowly approached, "…but you can call me Pretty…"
*Mel!*
"…Poison."
Mel jerked backward as Sym's shout blazed through the heat in her veins. Her hands came up and struck the woman’s bare shoulders. They stumbled away from each other and a rich wicked laugh bubbled up from Poison. "Oh, well. You're not really my type anyway..."
Mel looked up in horror as pins and needles spread from where her hands had touched the woman.
Sundance pushed through the crowd just in time to see the blue woman and another woman, this one in black leather, cinched in a tight, intimate embrace. Sundance blushed to the roots of her hair, unsure why she was witnessing what she was witnessing. At that moment, the blue woman suddenly pushed the other woman away and stumbled backwards, shaking her hand as if burned or something. The other woman was laughing as she turned away, apparently retreating. Sundance wasn't sure what to do. She moved towards the blue woman, watching the other warily.
The pins and needles in Mel's hands rapidly evolved into pain. A sudden spasm pulled her hands into claws.
*Oh, this isn't good... Some kind of nerve toxin.*
*Really? What gave it away?* Mel looked up at Poison and was assailed by an image - Kissing up the slope of her pale breasts to suck at her pulse...
*Mel! Focus!
A quick shake of her head seemed to clear her thoughts and despite the pain inexorably creeping up her forearms she managed to pull her concentration together sufficiently to aim a bolt at Poison. "Don't go anywhere."
Ela moved from one person to the next: with the shark-man dealt with by the woman in gold, and the man on the surfboard nowhere in sight, things seemed to be quieting a little, except for the cries of the wounded and the sounds of people yelling to each other, trying to find out what had happened. Ela wondered how long it would be before news reporters and police began arriving.
As she worked, she kept an eye on the knot of people before her. Occasionally one would stagger and fall, that waxy sheen on their skin. "Poison!" she called out to Mel and the unknown meta who seemed to be helping. "Someone's got poison in there... Mel??"
Ela's heart almost stopped as she saw Mel totter and stumble backwards, holding her hands before her as though they were burned. *Too late, too late!* Ela berated herself. *Why didn't I warn her about poison being around when I first noticed it?*
Duty held her rooted to the spot she was in a few moments longer, until the person she was dealing with stopped bleeding. As soon as she knew they were out of danger, however, she leapt up and ran towards her friend, hoping that whatever had captivated the men and Mel didn't turn its eye to her. Ela rushed to Mel's side, but was rebuffed by the forcefield surrounding her friend.
Trying to think through her panic, Ela moved slower, reaching an arm in to touch Mel's shoulder. Though she couldn't see well through the blue glow, Ela could feel the cold clamminess of Mel's skin, and the tingling in her fingers told her everything else. "Mel? It's me, Ela. You're poisoned. Let me help you."
Sundance watched the blue woman stumbling. Something had happened to her when she touched the woman in the bustier. She wasn't sure what, but Sundance wasn't going to take any chances. She scanned the ground, looking for something to use as a weapon. Suddenly, the blue woman spoke to the other woman, and a bolt of energy left her hands and struck the woman in the bustier as she was attempting to flee.
Pretty Poison was trying to beat a hasty retreat when the blue energy struck her. She flew forward, landing facedown on the grass. Pretty Poison was hurt, and suddenly very afraid. Her pheromones had worked on the woman, but she had been foolish to try and take her out. From the looks of things, no one was coming to save her either.
Pretty Poison remained face down on the ground, playing possum. She was hurt, but she wasn't out. She might still be able to turn things in her favour. She concentrated, kicking up the pheromone output and for effect, she groaned dramatically.
Mel's hands had simply gone number. The pain had moved to her forearms and her upper arms were now starting to tingle but in a single moment all that was swept from her mind. Desire swept through, the simple need to touch and caress. "I'm sorry... you're all right aren't you? I'm sorr... please, you're all right?"
Mel tried to stretch out her hand but for some reason it didn't seem to work. Then the pain swept back in and that inrushing agony took her consciousness with it.
Ela blushed to the roots of her hair. The feedback she was getting from Mel's biological systems was decidedly sexual. Ela determined not to look closely at the woman in leather whom she'd glimpsed, if she could cause that sort of response even in another woman. The ratio of men to women in the group surrounding the poisonous meta was not something Ela chose to dwell on.
As Mel slipped into unconsciousness the forcefield vanished. Ela tried to support her, but the taller woman's weight bore them both to the ground. Sprawled awkwardly behind Mel, Ela kept her hold on her friend, forcing the toxins out of her system while she scanned for the woman in gold.
"Gold lady," she called, "watch out for the woman in leather. Poison and... well, uh..." Ela cursed herself inwardly. *Now is not the time to get tongue-tied!* She persisted doggedly, "Poison and sex drive. Don't look at her."
Ela flushed a deeper crimson and turned her concentration to helping to purge her friend of the venom in her system.
Sundance heard the healer's warning, and approached the woman on the ground, holding a piece of metal in her hand that, moments before, had had a sign attached to it. The men around the fallen woman were beginning to move forward, apparently to lend her aid. If the healer was right, then that could prove deadly for them.
"Stay away from her," Sundance shouted at them, pushing her way past. The men protested, but backed off when Sundance raised the post menacingly. *Damn fools,* she thought. *You'd think they'd never seen a pretty girl... Wait a minute.*
Sundance began to detect a faint musk in the air as she got closer to the fallen woman. She glanced around at the nearly salivating men gathered around and suddenly put two and two together.
"Pheromones!" she shouted triumphantly. That must be it. She'd read about them in her human biology class, and knew that theoretically, the hormones were responsible for human attraction. That would explain the behaviour here. As Sundance finally reached the fallen woman, she saw bodies littering the ground around her. These were the men who had been unable to resist her "allure" and had attempted to help the woman up. There were a couple of women among this group as well.
"She's poison!" Sundance admonished the men who were still moving forward. *I'll knock them out one by one before I let any more of them touch her.*
The men grumbled, but apparently her anger and frustration were apparent, because most of them backed off.
Pretty Poison heard the voice calling out her secrets and she knew she was in a lot of trouble. She waited a moment, sneaking a glance around her, and then she bolted to her feet, prepared to run.
Sundance was surprised when the fallen woman suddenly jumped to her feet. She didn't have time to think. She just reacted, swinging the post in a long arc, and striking the woman in the back of the head. The woman stumbled forward a couple of steps, and one of the men reached out, catching her as she fell to the ground. He let go almost immediately, beginning to shake.
"Damnit!" Sundance shouted. "Don't any more of you come closer." She brandished the post threateningly, turning in a slow circle. The other men fell back, looking dejected.
Ela felt as much as saw the blow the gold woman delivered to the poisonous meta, wincing in sympathetic pain. But her attention was mostly for the form that lay with its head in her lap. Ela soothed back the silvery-blue hair with her free hand as she continued to rid Mel's body of venom. She was thankful she'd already encountered several men containing the same toxin, which made it easy to distinguish amongst Mel's altered biology.
She was rewarded when Mel's eyes began to flutter open and she blinked up into Ela's worried face.
Darkness faded to grey and then slowly Ela's face came back into focus. Her head was cradled in Ela's arms and despite the discomfort of lying on cold, damp grass Mel smiled. "Mmmmm, I'm guessing you saved me?" she whispered breathily.
A throaty chuckle wafted up as Mel watched Ela blush and then was suddenly cut off as she realised just what she was thinking about.
Mel squirmed out of Ela's 'embrace' and leapt to her feet, the past few minutes before she fell unconscious coming back to her. Whatever had affected her the overwhelming impetus was gone but the after effects were still with her as a glance at Pretty Poison confirmed. Mel clenched her hands as she fought off another image, but before she got herself back under control she'd taken a step towards her. *God I want her...*
Ela kept a light but steady hand on her friend's arm as Mel struggled with the effect the poison meta had on her. Pheromones, the gold lady had said. "Mel, don't..." Ela urged. "She'll hurt you again."
"Do what she says," Sundance advised grimly. She didn't want to hurt the other woman. They were on the same side. "I know it's hard, but you can control the effect she's having on you."
"Not so much control as overwhelming..." *Lust.* Mel looked around, keeping her attention away from the woman on the ground. In the distance sirens could be heard coming closer and further up the lawn behind the security fences Mel could see dark suited figures with guns.
“The bad guys are down. I think we need to get out of here, unless you want to answer their questions?” Mel pointed towards the Security Service detail that was approaching even now.
Ela looked to where Mel was pointing, then down at the people lying on the ground. Some were moving, writhing in agony. Some weren't. She shook her head.
"You two go," she said and advanced on the next person she could see. It was one of the not-so-active people, and as she turned the man over she felt nothing through her fingertips. No tingle. And when she moved her fingers down to his wrist, no pulse either. She looked up at his face - it was the first man she'd healed when she came on the scene. The one she'd tried to stop going back in. Now she understood - he'd been trapped by the allure of poison woman. And it had cost him his life.
Resolutely, she set her jaw and moved on to the next. It was a policeman, one of the ones that had been guarding the perimeter of the protest in the first place. He, too, was dead, probably among the first to fall to the meta attackers. She was finding it difficult to breathe by the time she found someone who wasn't dead. *Too long. I took too long. I let them die.*
She knelt by the bleeding teenager she found on the periphery of the poison woman's macabre circle of admirers, and began to channel her energy into knitting together his half-eaten body. The sound of sirens was growing awfully loud by now, she noticed distractedly.
"El..." Mel touched the healer’s arm but right now she felt uncomfortable doing anything more. Pretty Poison's pheromones were still playing havoc with her thoughts and she wasn’t sure what a hug would turn into. "Ela, please. You can't afford to get caught, there'd be too many questions." Mel glanced at the other meta helplessly. "We need to go. All of us..."
”But I'm not done, Mel. You wouldn't leave in the middle of a fight - this is my fight," Ela argued.
Mel firmed her grip and breathed, trying to focus. "There'll be other fights, but not if they catch you." Mel tugged at Ela's arm, "Now please, come on!"
Sundance watched the blue woman... (*Mel,* she thought) and the girl healer (*Ela*) arguing over staying or leaving as the sounds of the rescue vehicles grew louder. She could understand Ela's reluctance to leave, but there were surely ambulances on the way, and the sheer number of bodies scattered on the lawn was overwhelming. Not only was Mel right about the questions they would be facing, but Sundance doubted there was any way that the girl could heal them all, and it was apparent that the deaths were taking a toll on her, maybe more so than the ones she managed to save.
"Ok," Sundance said, stepping forward boldly, "we really don't have time to discuss it. Let's go."
She grabbed hold of Ela by the waist and slung the girl over her shoulder. She was tired, by all means, but she knew when something was necessary and she was willing to push herself.
"My car's this way," Sundance said, striding off, Ela over her shoulder and Mel hopefully following.
Ela was too stunned for a moment to react at all, then she tried to struggle, to free herself. But the woman in gold was surprisingly strong. *Well, not so surprising, I guess. She's obviously a meta of some sort.* She lifted her head, the scene of chaos and destruction imprinting itself in her brain. She hated to guess at the death toll, but took solace in knowing that she'd at least managed to save a few. *But not all. Not all...*
CROSSOVER SERIES ONE: NOVEMBER 16, 2003 TO MARCH 31, 2004
Tuesday, 25th November 2003 – 10:15am
Sundance ignored Ela’s wiggling, carrying her quickly to the parking garage and depositing her in the passenger seat of the rental car. She waited for Mel to climb in and then just sat there for a moment, not sure what to do.
*I’m still in costume,* Sundance thought. *I’ve just picked up two complete strangers, one of whom I’m pretty sure is a lesbian, and I don’t have a clue where to go now.*
Sundance turned around in the seat, and studied her two passengers for a moment. “Well, that was... interesting,” she said lamely.
Ela sat hunched in the passenger seat wondering what Mel was doing in the back seat, and hoping that the woman in gold could really be trusted. She seemed nice enough, but...
“Uh, yeah,” she muttered, her habitual shyness overriding her desire to scream and shout about the people she’d had to leave back there, and to demand answers from the gold woman... *Girl?* thought Ela, as she looked more closely at her. Even with a mask on obscuring most of her features, the woman in gold didn’t seem much older than she was.
Sundance was seriously questioning just what she’d done here. She’d jumped into the fight with both feet, failing to really consider the consequences and now she found herself stuck with two virtual strangers. From the sounds of sirens and helicopters outside the garage, she assumed it would be a good idea to get out of the area as quickly as possible, but she also suspected that doing so in costume was out of the question. She frowned. Changing would mean revealing her identity to these women, who she wasn’t sure she could trust.
*What other choice do I have?* Sundance asked herself. *I either expose myself to them, or risk exposure to everyone.*
Sighing, Sundance reached up and took hold of the domino covering her eyes and obscuring her face. “Look,” she said, “I don’t see any way around this. We have to get out of here, and right now, I’m a bit conspicuous, so...” Sundance took a deep, steadying breath and pulled the mask off. “I’m Sundance, but you can call me Soleil...,” she paused, “‘cause that’s my real name.”
“Melissa. The young lady in the front seat is Athela.” After seven months or so the correct pronunciation came quite naturally to Mel. The few seconds the introduction used up gave Mel a chance to cover up her shock but the state she was in right now Mel was unsure how well she managed. *Damn, another youngster...* A youngster who right now reminded Mel of the first time she’d met Ela. There was that same sense of fear, the slight panic in the eyes that suggested a desire to bolt at the earliest opportunity.
A bruise was just starting to show on Soleil’s right cheek. “You’re hurt. I’m sorry I left you with the shark...” Mel blushed a deep red. *I hope she’s not a telepath...* “I wasn’t... thinking.”
Ela heard the strange tone of Mel’s voice and swallowed, hoping that her friend could keep her pheromone-affected hormones under control long enough for the effects to wear off. But she glanced up at Soleil. The girl-woman looked more tired than hurt, but there were some minor injuries Ela could help with easily enough.
She uncurled just enough to extend a hand towards Soleil. “I can take care of the hurts for you, if you like. Will only take a minute.”
Sol recoiled slightly from Athela’s outstretched hand. She shook her head quickly. “No,” she said quickly, then amended, “I mean, thank you for the offer, but it’s not necessary. I heal rather quickly, and I’m really not hurt that badly. I just need some... well, sunshine, really, and I’ll be good as new.” Sol smiled slowly, “But I do appreciate that you’re willing to help me. We don’t really even know each other. That’s very... kind of you.”
“Well we self-appointed heroines ought to stick together and... well, Ela will offer to heal just about anyone. Which reminds me...” Mel’s voice changed from its relaxed bantering tone to something sterner. “I know I didn’t say stay there but I’m pretty sure I implied it. What were you doing mixed up in that crowd?”
Ela craned her head around to look at Mel. For a moment she forgot Soleil was in the car with them and their new acquaintance was struck by the increased confidence in Ela’s voice as she answered her companion. “Mel, I told you - that’s my fight. You get to do all the flashy stuff, but you can hardly expect me to sit back and watch when people are suffering and dying.”
Now that she’d finally dared to look at Mel, some of Ela’s trepidation vanished. Mel looked worn out and haunted, and not the least bit like she was going to dive over the back of the car seat and try to ravish her. Ela hadn’t even realised that had been her fear until now, but now she could see the toll the morning’s adventures had taken on Mel. “Look,” she said more quietly, “we need to get away from here, somewhere safe.”
“I threw a sphere, El. I didn’t even think about it, just saw that thing standing over you and boom!” Mel’s words may have been directed at Ela but her eyes were seeing a totally different scene. “What would’ve happened if I’d missed?”
Ela swallowed, seeing the shark-man looming over her again in her mind’s eye. But she also remembered seeing the man who just minutes before had been dying on the grass, get up and run away from the meta. “Then you’d have missed, Mel,” she said softly. “I still would have had to be there.”
Soleil listened to the exchange between the two, and was reminded of the many times she and her mother had had arguments like it back home. She’d always had to use her abilities, but sometimes her parents hadn’t understood. Still, she didn’t think Melissa was Athela’s mom or anything. The older woman and the girl had very different accents for one thing, and for another, she’d witnessed first hand how Melissa felt about Athela, at least on some level.
The tension between the two was palpable, as they debated their sides of the issue, and Sol really wanted to break that up, which is why, without a thought, she said what she said. “So, I’m a little confused,” Sol said to Ela, “Is Melissa your lover... or your Mom?”
For a moment Ela could say nothing, then had to cough and choke as she nearly swallowed her own tongue. She heard nothing from Mel, and could only imagine the shocked look on her friend’s face. It took Ela several minutes to regain her composure, during which Soleil finally got the car under way and drove them away from the area before they were trapped there.
It wasn’t until several city blocks of travelling later that Ela was able to breathe well enough to reply. “No, no. She’s just my friend. I mean we live together, but... no, not like that! I mean, we share the same house, is all. She took me in when I came over here and...” Ela trailed off into an embarrassed silence.
Mel managed to fight past her shock as Ela replied. As the girl trailed off into silence Mel spoke to fill the void. “Circumstances meant Ela needed a place to stay. I offered to help and to actually answer your question, no to both possibilities. Nothing so... intimate.” She managed to hide her embarrassment a little better this time but still Mel cursed herself as she realised just how she’d drawn out that last word. Obviously Pretty Poison’s pheromones were having a lingering impact on her. She didn’t understand quite why only she had been so affected.
Sol had started the car and pulled out of the garage as the other two sat in silence after her stupid comment. After Ela and Mel’s uncomfortable replies, she silently berated herself for being insensitive. *Just chalk it up to exhaustion,* she thought blearily. *I’ve never been this tired before.*
Sol drove in silence a couple of more minutes, and then finally asked. “Uhm... where am I going, anyway? Does anyone have any ideas?”
Ela had slipped back into silence. Mel had come to recognise the situation, not because she’d become any better at reading Ela but because what little info she could determine vanished as well. “Well, we have a hotel nearby but that may not be the best idea. Let’s head for the outskirts and find a place for a bite to eat.” Ela would certainly need food after the morning’s activities and if Soleil was as tired as she seemed food couldn’t hurt.
Sol glanced down at herself. “Uhm... the thing is... I sort of left my pack in an alley back there, and I don’t have any spare clothes in this car. It’s a rental. So...”
Ela hated to speak up at this point. She was feeling heartily embarrassed both by Soleil’s question and her own reactions to the new Mel. But it seemed there was really only one solution, if Soleil was willing. “Where are you staying, then? You’ll have clothes there...” Her voice sounded soft and weak even to her own ears.
Sol nodded. Her hotel wasn’t far from here, only a couple of more blocks actually, especially since her internal “auto-pilot” had apparently had her heading there anyway. She figured Linda would still be out covering the press conference she’d been assigned to last night. That or out shopping some more, it was before dark so that meant one or the other for sure. That would make her room a safe bet.
“Ok, we’ll do that,” Sol agreed. She drove as quickly as the law allowed, pulling up to the front of the hotel.
“Can you hand me the jacket sitting back there?” Sol asked, glancing back at Mel. The valet was on his way back from parking another car. She’d just have time to slip the hooded sweater over her clothes. Thankfully, she liked her jackets roomy, so it should cover her costume completely, but her gold boots would still be visible. With any luck, no one would notice.
Mel noticed Soleil’s nervous glance down and smiled. “Don’t worry, I don’t think they’ll be looking at you.”
She reached up and ran her right hand through her silver blue hair and let herself sink momentarily into the last vestiges of Poison’s effect. She walked into the lobby with poise and confidence knowing that despite her relatively plain clothes every eye was on her. They reached the elevator and stepped inside, and Mel couldn’t suppress a giggle. “That was fun.”
Ela watched in amazement as Mel turned on the sex-appeal, leaving a wake of turned heads behind her. Ela slunk, unnoticed, behind Mel, with Soleil beside her. “Fun?” Ela shook her head, “I wouldn’t want everyone looking at me like that.”
Soleil laughed heartily as the doors to the elevator closed behind them. “I don’t know,” she murmured to Ela, reaching out to push the button for her floor. “That kind of attention can be fun, at the right time. And believe me, that was definitely the right time. Thanks for the distraction, Mel.”
“Don’t mention it.” The doors opened again and Sol led the way towards her room. A few minutes later Mel and Ela stood in small living area while Soleil headed into another room to get changed. The young woman returned and there was a momentarily awkward silence.
Ela’s feet scuffed on the carpet of the room, she was feeling like a fish out of water. What she wouldn’t give for her old life, where everything was simple.
Soleil waited a few moments, and then gave up. There were a lot of uncomfortable, serious people in this room. That is, if you thought three was a lot.
“Ok, so we know each other’s names, and we know we’re all apparently metahumans, so...” Sol shrugged, moving over to sit on the sofa. “The rest should be easy. Are you native to D.C., or did you just come in for the conference? Do go around looking for fights, patrolling like some sort of comic book hero, or did you stumble on that this morning? What can you do besides what I saw this morning? Are you a team or do you usually work separately? Do you have a ‘secret identity’? What else do you do for fun? What’s your take on the trouble in the Middle East? Do you support the space program? And, really the only thing I’m dying to know, are you half as hungry as I am right now?”
Sol fired off her questions in rapid succession, ending with a burst of laughter. She felt good, really good for the first time in weeks. No matter what had happened, or what might happen, something very important had changed. For the first time since that confrontation with Mako on the beach, she didn’t feel alone.
Mel chuckled at Sol’s sudden enthusiasm. “Yeah I could grab a bite to eat.” She looked at Ela and smiled, “And you, young lady, definitely need to eat. So let’s go somewhere to eat and we can chat... but a few questions are easy to answer. We’re just in town for the conference. Not really your comic book hero though I’ve helped out the police a few times. Actually Ela’s better at the whole heroic thing.”
Mel stopped talking for a moment and heard Sym giggle as she thought how to reply to one of the other questions. “As for the space program...” Mel got control of herself, “I think it has excellent prospects.”
Ela blinked, flabbergasted at Mel’s words. “What do you mean, heroic? I just... I just do what I have to. I haven’t stopped a nuclear bomb, I haven’t rescued hostages, I haven’t defeated dangerous metas... You’re the hero, Mel.” Ela turned to Sol, “Mel must still be feeling out of sorts from this morning. And no, we’re not really a team. But sometimes we stumble onto things, like this morning.” *Or get dragged into them by manipulating AIs,* Ela thought bitterly.
Sol smiled sunnily at Ela. “It’s all right,” she said soothingly. “I totally get the whole ‘reluctant hero’ thing. But, girlfriend, you were out there saving lives. That totally makes you a hero in my book.”
Ela found herself blushing fiercely again. She certainly didn’t feel like a hero. She felt like an idiot. But somehow she just couldn’t stand by and watch people suffer, no matter the danger to herself. It just never entered into the equation for her. In an effort to shift the focus away from her, Ela asked Sol, “So, what about you, with the whole superhero thing? You been leaping into the fray a lot?”
It was Sol’s turn to blush, something she rarely did. She was just still really uncomfortable with her decision to don a costume and fight criminals. “I... well, since April, really,” she said. “I had an... altercation... with Mako, actually, and after that, I just decided I couldn’t sit by and watch metahumans abuse their power, you know. I have a responsibility to do the right thing, to help out. And maybe I can show people that not all of us are bad guys, you know.” Sol paused.
*She’s a keeper.*
“I used my powers all the time back home, so I’m used to them,” she continued. “I just didn’t have to hide then. It’s the costume, the mask, the need for subterfuge that I’m not used to. I guess I’m kind of hoping to change the world, so that someday a girl like me can do whatever she was born to do without having to hide her face while she does it.”
Sol blushed again. *God, was that too geeky?* she thought. *I sound like a character from some cheesy superhero flick.*
*You couldn’t have picked her for your whole ‘save the world’ gig?*
*We picked you for a reason, Mel.*
Sol’s blush betrayed her embarrassment at her own enthusiasm but Mel smiled. “Sounds to me like you’re fighting for what you believe in and yeah, the subterfuge thing is daunting. We shouldn’t have to hide what we are. Now come on, let’s leave the meaning of life stuff till after we’ve eaten.”
Sol nodded and led them out of her room. Within minutes, they were back in her car and searching for an out of the way restaurant where they could talk in semi-private.
Before long they spotted a place, parked and went in. Soon they were settled around a table,
waiting for their food to arrive.
Ela stayed quiet, but couldn’t help thinking about what Sol had said about subterfuge. Ela had never even considered donning a costume – she’d always done her healing openly, especially when she’d been at home. The only time she’d used a fake name was when Humans First was after her and she’d been hiding out in Melbourne.
Her lunch arrived and she began to munch on the salad, feeling wistfully about home and wondering why the Americans never seemed to be able to make a proper salad dressing. She dipped a finger in it and made a face, grateful that she’d asked them to deliver it on the side, and ate her salad without. As she ate, she watched Sol out of the corner of her eye. Luckily there weren’t many people about, so there was nobody to overhear their conversation, which made Ela feel a little better about going out in public to discuss all this.
“I’ve never hidden my face – but maybe you were sensible, Sol. Back home nobody cared – they were just happy that I could make them better, and cure their stock. But here... here it’s different.”
Sol nodded. “I know what you mean,” she said. “In my hometown, everyone knew what I could do, but no one cared. They appreciated my help is all.”
She picked up a french fry off her plate, gesturing with it as she continued. “Now, though, I just thought it would be dangerous to be out in the open. Back at UCSD there was always talk about the ‘metahuman threat’. I couldn’t risk exposing myself to ridicule or abuse. I’ve got a normal life too. Well, I used to have one. It’s not going so great now, what with all the time I spend as Sundance.”
Sol shrugged. “What about you, Mel? I mean, you’re older than we are. You’ve probably been doing this longer. What do you think?”
Mel nodded. “Yeah, longer... Actually, either one of you has me beat on the experience front. I’m an environmental. Up until a year ago I was your average Vegas poker player.”
“Yeah,” chuckled Ela, “then you went poking around the desert. I come from an area with a high concentration of uranium deposits – you learn not to play with glowing rocks there.”
“It wasn’t glowing, as well you know. Ok, so it was obviously extra-terrestrial with no impact crater despite its size, but...” Mel shrugged. Ela knew this story and she wasn’t certain she wanted to get into the details right now. She also owed Ela a conversation but hadn’t found the right time.
Sol had asked about their powers. Ela could decide for herself but it wasn’t as if Gabriel’s abilities were secret. She did, however, lower her voice a touch. “On the powers front, as Ela said I got all the flashy stuff. Energy projection with a variety of flavours. Flight, which is really cool I must say, and a nice protective forcefield which thankfully has never reached its limit. Well except for that car.” Mel glanced at Ela again.
Ela flashed Mel a shy smile. Their initial meeting had been dramatic, that was for sure. It was also when she’d been faced with the undeniable evidence that Humans First were after her. Silence stretched out for a moment, then Ela laughed nervously.
“Oh, right. Uh, powers, huh? Well, I can heal anyone of just about anything, given enough time. Trauma is easier than disease, but so far there’s only been one person I got to while they were still alive and been unable to help them.” Ela’s voice turned bitter at the memory of the third clone, whose degeneration had been too rapid even for her abilities. “But there’s nothing apart from that. Just...” Ela stopped for the barest instant, suddenly painfully aware of the one time she’d used her gift for other than healing, “...just healing,” she finished firmly.
There was that hesitation again. Mel had heard it a couple of times when Ela was describing her powers. What else was she hiding, Mel wondered. She’d asked William why Humans First had wanted Ela, but she’d ignored the possibilities he’d raised. Ela seemed too innocent for those sorts of things. Still, could Ela harm as well as heal?
Sol listened intently, munching away on the big, greasy cheeseburger she’d ordered. Along with the drain on her solar energies, she found she was always starving after any extended use of her powers. Sol finished chewing, holding up a finger to indicate she needed a minute to swallow and then began.
“Well, my powers are a bit different, but I have had them all of my life. Thanks to my mother, that is. She’s a scientist, and she actually used her knowledge of chemistry and genetics to alter my DNA,” Sol explained nonchalantly. She had never considered that very strange, but she’d also grown up in a very controlled environment, and she didn’t consider that strange either.
“So, my cells work kind of like a solar battery,” she continued. “I absorb energy from the sun, and my body converts it into fuel for me. The side benefits are that I’m physically very strong, and tough. I also heal really quickly, especially if I can ‘soak up some sun’ when I’m ill or injured, and I’m very... well, good with my hands and stuff. I can sometimes create this energy centred around my hands as well, which seems to do some kind of damage to my opponents, but that’s more recent and I can’t control it yet.”
Sol paused. “I’m trained in martial arts too, ‘cause my Mom thought it would make me stronger as a dancer, so I took both growing up. But that’s about it, I think.”
“Wow.” Ela suddenly felt incredibly insignificant around these two giantesses, both in stature and in power. Cosmic energy on one side, and solar energy opposite her – and here she was, a girl from the outback whose only talent was to heal. She continued to eat her salad in silence, waiting for her main course of vegetarian lasagne.
Sol looked at Mel a bit wistfully. “So, you fly? That would be awesome,” she mused. “I wish I could fly. Then I might not miss Blue so much.”
Mel’s voice contained all the pleasure she took from that particular power. “I don’t just fly,” Mel closed her eyes and remembered her last flight over the desert. “I dance in the air. Some days I hate being a metahuman, but not when I’m flying. Not when I’m up there. Then I wouldn’t give it up for anything.” Mel gave a little shake and smiled sheepishly. “It catches me sometimes...”
Ela smiled at Sol, “You should see her. When she flies it’s just... beautiful.” She felt another blush coming on. Suddenly, using such words to describe Mel no longer seemed... appropriate? Safe? She wasn’t sure, but she knew she felt a little awkward, having said it.
“So,” she said, pushing away her empty salad plate and changing the subject swiftly, “who or what is Blue?”
Sol smiled dreamily. “He’s my baby,” she replied. “An Arabian of pure bred stock that my Dad bought me for my 16th birthday. He’s the first horse I’ve ever owned. Before I got him, I used to ride the farm horses, but it’s not the same at all.” She beamed at the other two women. “Riding Blue is like flying, I bet.”
Ela felt sudden tears pricking her eyes. A wave of homesickness flowed over her, so strongly that she could hardly bear it. She remembered her own father presenting her with Flame as a colt, and even though she relished Mel’s motorbike it was nothing like riding Flame through the scrublands of home. “Oh,” she said.
Sol noticed Ela’s sudden distress. “Are you all right?” she asked. “Is it something I said?”
Mel reached out and put a hand on Ela’s arm. “It’s not forever. You’ll get home, I promise.”
Ela nodded silently, willing the unshed tears to disappear. “Maybe,” she conceded, “but at the moment it looks like the only way I’d manage it is if I went with an armed guard.”
Sol didn’t understand quite what she’d just seen, but she felt very bad for upsetting the other girl. She sat back, unusually silent for once.
Ela looked up with a watery smile at Sol’s confusion. “Sorry, it’s just... I had to leave behind my family, and my own horse, in Australia. And I miss them all terribly sometimes. I’ll be ok, I promise.” Her smile grew slightly broader as she joked, “Though I’m afraid my horse was ‘only a farm horse’, nothing fancy.”
Inwardly Mel smiled. She was a city girl and some things from Ela’s past simply passed her by. It was still a way in the distance but if Ela and Soleil struck up a friendship maybe it would help bring her out of her shell. “Well, I don’t get horses but if ‘farm’ horse is anything like ‘farm’ bike...”
Sol laughed. The only bike on her farm had been her old 10 speed, and it had seen better days. But Brad White, down the street, had owned a vintage motorcycle he and his dad had restored and she’d ridden home on the back of that thing a few times herself. “Well, it’s a similar thing, I guess,” she said, eyes twinkling. “Both run on ‘horsepower’ after all.”
Ela giggled. She’d described her beat-up old farm bike to Mel long ago, a Honda Bushlander that had seen better days. It didn’t even begin to compare to Mel’s fancy machine. “Yeah, Mel, about the same comparison. Though Flame’s got a heart of gold, he’s not a purebred anything.”
“Blue is, but you only really notice when you’re astride him. He acts just like any of the other horses on the farm, but he doesn’t do the same work,” Sol said. “His real name is Lord Alfredd Bluecastle De Lancer, but he’s just Blue to me.”
Ela smiled tentatively at Sol, happy to find someone who understood the freedom of riding. Motorbikes were fun, but they just weren’t the same as having a living, breathing animal to share it with. Her eyes fell back to the table, and her vegetarian lasagne that had appeared before her. “Hmm,” she said, shovelling in a forkful of food, “I dunno about you two, but I’m always starving after I’ve healed someone.”
Sundance laughed, chomping away at her burger. “Sure,” she said between mouthfuls, “I was just thinking that. I’m always so hungry and so tired after I use my powers. It’s like I’m depleting all of my reserves, not just the solar ones.”
Sol decided she really liked the other girl, who was apparently from Australia, and duh, how had she not picked that up from the accent alone. She was quiet, but seemed friendly enough, and Sol was plenty loud for the both of them, or at least that’s what her friends were always saying.
“I suppose there are lots of things metahumans have in common that regular people wouldn’t understand,” Sol looked suddenly sort of wistful. “I’m really glad I met you guys, whatever the circumstances, because being... well, different, that can be pretty lonely at times.”
Ela nodded quietly, thinking about all the metas who hid their identities as Mel and Sol did. Couldn’t people see that they just wanted to live normal lives, like anyone else? Why shouldn’t they be able to use whatever gifts they’d been given without having to hide behind fake names and costumes? She sighed heavily, her thoughts turning also to the metas they’d encountered that morning.
“Those people earlier,” she began slowly, her eyes on Sol, “The shark-man in particular seemed to know you...”
Sol nodded, setting the burger down. “I do know him, but not the others,” she replied. “I know for a fact that Mako at least is from San Diego, like me. I had a run in with him on a beach in the spring, and funny thing is, that’s kind of why I started wearing the costume and everything. Mako gets off on terrorizing people, and he was making a pretty regular habit out of harassing families on the beach. I put a stop to it, and the rest is sort of history. I’ve been trying to prevent crimes and protect people back home ever since. Today’s my first time making a similar attempt anywhere else, though.”
“I don’t know who the other three people were, but I get the impression that they’ve worked together before,” Sol continued, “and they’re all really dangerous, I think. Especially that chick... Pretty Poison, isn’t that what she called herself?”
Mel nodded. “Yes, and it’s obvious why she called herself that. She mentioned another name. Lily something.” Mel looked down at her hands. Pretty Poison was a topic she would rather have just avoided but since Soleil had brought up she was going to move past it as quickly as she could. “Still, I don’t think it’ll matter. Between the police and the Secret Service I’m sure she’ll be behind bars soon enough.”
Mel looked back towards the other two. She remembered three – Mako, Pretty Poison and the man on the air-board. “Who was the fourth?”
Ela looked sadly at the woman beside her. “Mel, whatever she did to you...” she began, then halted at Mel’s uncomfortable look.
Instead she frowned and looked across to Sol, answering Mel’s last question. “The Asian guy, right? I saw you struggling with him at the start, and I thought you were with the attackers. Sorry. He looked like just a harmless old man.”
Sol nodded, watching Mel closely. Maybe the older woman had had problems with people accepting her sexuality before, but Sol wanted to make it clear she wasn’t going to have one now.
“Look, Melissa, I know we just met, but I want you to understand, I’m not a bigot in any way,” Sol said. “I’m perfectly okay with what happened to you today. We don’t choose who we’re attracted to. It’s got a lot to do with physiology, as evidenced by what happened when that Lily person used her pheromones on you. You were susceptible because you’re a lesbian or whatever, no big deal. We all have weaknesses and strengths that make us who we are, and I for one, am not passing judgement on anyone here. So... just be cool. There’s no reason to be embarrassed. Honest.”
The blood rushed from Mel’s face leaving her momentarily pale. “You’re right Soleil. You don’t know anything about me and if our positions were reversed I wouldn’t make assumptions on the basis of an isolated incident.” Mel couldn’t believe it, this girl had the presumption to think she was gay! It was absurd, she’d only ever dated men, she hadn’t even conceived of a relationship with another woman.
*Right and what about college?*
*What? A party, some alcohol and a few drunken kisses to mess with a few guys’ heads? Sure, if that makes me gay then half the female population is. Butt out Sym.*
*That’s all it was? Sure...*
“Sym...” Mel realised she’d spoken aloud and continued in silence, *I won’t tell you again. Drop this now!*
Sundance reeled back from Mel’s harsh tone as if slapped. She sat in stunned silence while the woman appeared to have an argument with herself. *Okay, she’s either in major denial...* Sol thought, *or she’s just out and out loony. I really hope it’s just denial.*
“Uhm... sorry,” Sol said tentatively. “I guess I just figured... that is, I thought since you were... My mistake, okay? I obviously don’t know you and I don’t know what I’m talking about, and I seriously don’t mind either way.”
Sol smiled brightly, hoping to smooth over this rough patch. She really did like Ela and she didn’t want to make either of them mad.
Mel half nodded, maybe she’d been a bit harsh. Considering the events Soleil’s mistake had been an easy one to make.
*Which actions would those be? The whole ‘deer in headlights’ look when she started purring at you? Or maybe the soft-porn mental imagery? And Sol might not know you but Ela does and I’m sure she knows exactly how you were ‘feeling’ when she woke you up.*
Mel shifted for a second while she tried not to blush at Sym’s comments. Failing somewhat miserably she tried again to change the subject. “This Asian man? What was he doing?”
Sol decided changing the subject was probably for the best. “He had this cell-phone looking thing and he was using it to... uh... I don’t know, hurt people somehow,” she replied. “He looked harmless enough, but he was definitely a bad guy. I got distracted when I was facing him, and when I turned around, he’d disappeared. I just assumed he was working with Mako and his gang.”
Ela breathed a sigh of relief, disguising it with a mouthful of lasagne, as the topic moved back onto safer ground. She’d maintained a stoic silence during the exchange between Mel and Sol, but she had the distinct feeling that Mel was simply refusing to face reality. She’d seen how Mel had reacted just like the men she’d treated for poison, and since ‘Lily’ had only affected a very small proportion of women it seemed clear that the trigger was based on sexuality.
But what had Ela more worried than her denials of the obvious were the strange expressions that crossed Mel’s face, and the faraway look that came into her eyes. And in the middle of all that, Mel started to say something then stopped. “Sim…” Simply? Simple? What was she going to say, Ela wondered.
She realised with a start that Mel had stopped talking and was looking at her, had caught her staring, and she dropped her eyes back to her plate, away from Mel’s face.
That sudden glance away worried Mel. This whole gay thing seemed to be troubling Ela, at least as much as Mel could ever tell with Ela. Well maybe once they’d managed to say their goodbyes to Sol they could talk about it although Mel wasn’t sure she wanted that conversation.
“Well, if he shows up again I’m sure we can kick his ass and at least we got a couple of the bad guys.”
“I think he was the one zapping everyone,” Ela observed quietly. “A few of the people I found were convulsing, their nerves were all scrambled. Kind of like a nasty electrical shock. Maybe that’s what he was doing.” She shrugged. “I dunno.”
“That seems about right,” Sol agreed. She had just finished her meal and was thinking of dessert. She was also wondering what time it was getting to be. Now that her hunger had been abated, she was feeling even more exhausted. She needed a nap, preferably in one of those tanning beds at the hotel that gave of ultraviolet radiation. That always worked the best during the winter, even if it wasn’t quite as effective as actual sunlight.
“Uhm... I hate to break this party up,” Sol said. “And I seriously mean that. I really loved talking with you guys. But I am really in need of some UV and a nap.”
“Hmmm yeah we have some stuff to do too.” Mel smiled at Ela, knowing she was about to invoke her mother hen tendencies again. “If you’re going to help out later on you need to rest some, especially after this morning.”
“I know,” Ela nodded. The food had helped considerably, but she’d been expecting to see Sydney fresh after a full night’s sleep and now... now most of her reserves were already used up. “Sol, it’s been great to meet you. I’d love to see Blue one day...”
“I’d love to take you sometime, Ela,” Sol said sincerely. “I’m sure you’d have a great time on the farm. And my parents would love to meet you.”
Sol grabbed her bag, and pulled out a piece of paper and a pen. “I don’t want to seem forward, but…” she said, scribbling on the paper. She handed it to Ela. “I’d love to get together again sometime. If you want... you could call me. That’s my cell number and my apartment number back in San Diego. If you want to go out... or just talk... or whatever...” Sol’s voice trailed off. *She’s so shy. Hope I didn’t scare her off.* She smiled in what she hoped was a disarming, “I’m not desperate for a friend... really” kind of way.
Ela smiled back bashfully. She liked Sol, and could think of nothing better than to spend time just talking about horses, or better yet, spend a day riding. “That’d be nice,” she said.
Mel smiled at the pair of them. A friend would help Ela get over the loneliness as well as some time spent at a farm, but for now they needed to go get some rest. “Well I think it’s time we were going. Were staying here,” Mel scribbled their hotel down on a napkin and handed it to the other girl, “and if you’re ever in Vegas drop us a line. I’d be happy to let you stay over.”
Sol took the napkin and placed it carefully in her purse. “Yes, sure, I’d like that,” she said, rising. “Thanks, and... well, bye, I guess. Hopefully I’ll talk to you soon.”
Sol had to restrain herself from following them out as they left the restaurant. She was that nervous that she’d never see them again. She really didn’t want to go back to being the only one. With a concerted effort, she waited for them to leave, and then grabbing her bag, she headed out to her car. Once inside, she couldn’t resist pulling the napkin out and reading it over and over. She felt almost like crying, she was so relieved. Finally, with a laugh at her own silliness, Sol replaced the napkin and started the car, headed back for her hotel.
A Little Healing
Tuesday, 25th November 2003 – 4pm
James sighed impatiently as he flicked through the television channels with barely controlled irritation. He couldn’t concentrate on any of the programmes; it didn’t matter anyway they all seemed to say the same, comments on the meta attack on the Marriott Hotel, protestors marching on Capitol Hill, a riot at the Lincoln Memorial… one breaking news story following the next… the city was in turmoil. If Sebastian Drake’s plan had been to incite mass anarchy then he’d surely achieved his objective.
He glanced nervously over to the bed where Dr Wyatt attended to Sydney, changing her IV, checking her temperature, the kind of medical tests that made him look like he was doing more than he actually was.
“Y-you okay?”
James looked up to see Jerry’s concerned face peering back from behind a pair of thick rimmed glasses. The man had come over last night with a few more medical supplies that he’d managed to glean from some out of town lab, staying behind for moral support. “I’ll be better once those two women get here…” he said quietly, thinking back to his dropping Melissa off at her hotel. She’d said ‘early’, he was sure she’d said they would be there early… now was decidedly late, each minute was ticking by and still no word.
This time as Ela and Mel walked the several blocks from their hotel to Sydney’s hotel there was considerably less banter than there had been that morning. Despite the sleep Mel had insisted she have, Ela was still feeling a little drained, as much from seeing all that death as from the actual healing she’d performed. And Mel - well, Mel still seemed to be in complete denial about the significance of her susceptibility to Pretty Poison. Ela was prepared to be supportive, but now she was forced to keep the subject closed or risk Mel’s wrath. All in all Ela found she now felt slightly uncomfortable around her friend.
In an effort to break the awkward silence, Ela found herself saying, “One thing, Mel - with that blue glow you’re very photogenic.” She was referring to the early afternoon news reports they’d seen that had covered the attack on Capitol Hill this morning. Ela had seen herself in one or two shots, but the cameras hadn’t focused on her, since outwardly at least she looked just like any other member of the crowd, and she wasn’t hurling bolts of energy around. Both Soleil and Mel, however, had been videoed from all angles, it seemed.
As had been happening lately, Mel didn’t respond straight away. Ela nudged her lightly and said, “Mel, you ok?”
“Huh?” Mel shook herself and mentally replayed Ela’s last few words. “Yeah, very photogenic. Almost as if it were designed that way...”
*Don’t look at me!*
Thankfully, though the news reporters had managed to capture much of the initial conflict on tape it seemed the scenes after Mel’s forcefield had come down were absent. A couple of witnesses had mentioned a blue haired woman but without corroborating evidence most of the news reports weren’t running it. What did concern Mel was the anti-meta commentator speaking at length about her attack. Mel had been careful to avoid endangering any civilians but a careful and biased edit coupled with a clear shot of her sphere detonating had a couple of talking heads commenting on her reckless and irresponsible actions.
“And yeah, I’m fine.” They reached their destination and Mel led them to the elevator. James had given her the room number last night so they could at least avoid reception and any curious stares.
The knock at the door had James almost jumping out of his skin, though he suspected who it would be even before he opened the door. No one apart from the people in that room and rest of his team knew where he was. “Mel…” he said quickly, relief colouring his voice as he ushered the two women in from the corridor. He turned to the blonde woman who was doing a good job of hiding behind her friend and smiled warmly, “You must be Ela?”
Ela merely nodded, suddenly abashed in the face of this stranger. She couldn’t help but notice his movie-star looks, and flicked her gaze sideways at Mel. *She must be gay - she never so much as mentioned how good-looking he is.*
“Uh, yeah,” was all Ela managed, feeling a warmth creeping up her face already at this handsome stranger’s scrutiny.
“You’ll find Ela is a woman of few words, James. I’m sorry we’re so late, there was a,” Mel paused, fighting down her reaction to the memories, “distraction.”
Still, she didn’t want to dwell on the day’s earlier activities. She scrutinised James for a moment and almost nodded to herself. Despite hiding it well he seemed worse than last night – there was a palpable tension in the air. “Sydney’s okay, isn’t she?”
“Why don’t you come see?” he said, his voice tight with nerves.
He couldn’t help but feel a twinge of fear. He’d never seen Sydney so weak, so… helpless. Dr Wyatt had done his best but even he seemed unable to make any assurances on Sydney’s behalf. She’d had more than half a dozen seizures in the past 24 hours, of varying magnitude. Sometimes she’d been able to cope, other times the sheer force had knocked her out cold. The doctor’s prognosis was grim to say the least… he’d seen this pattern before in other Xi’s, it was the first stage of the degeneration of the Neural Interface. Other stages included hypoxia, coma and death.
Dr Wyatt looked up as James led the two women into the room. He’d known they were coming, metas or something. He knew metas that had the healing gift; it was something that he’d explored with great interest in his youth back when his research had been directed towards creating a drug similar to Mutaxin, and the development of meta powers was something he was still interested in. If this woman managed to heal Sydney it could mean great steps forward in his quest to create the ultimate meta.
Mel settled against the wall away from where Sydney lay. She was pale and perspiring heavily, seemingly in the grips of a high fever. The confident controlled woman she remembered from the previous times they’d met was absent. A thought struck Mel; she recalled Sym’s statement when she first met Sydney. *I didn’t?*
*Yes.*
Mel shook her head a little and went back to watching Ela tend to Sydney.
Ela pulled up a chair to sit beside the stricken woman. Laying a hand on Sydney’s forehead, she saw the system-wide disruption to the woman’s biology. Her body’s ability to regulate itself had been overwhelmed by the demands on it, and Ela worked to bring Sydney back to a level of homeostasis, first lowering her core temperature then reducing the racing heartbeat to something more acceptable. That in itself took care of the respiration rate and the blood pressure, but Ela had to delve deeper to find the cause.
Several odd things popped out at her, areas that seemed impenetrable to her ability. It was almost as though someone had implanted artificial devices throughout Sydney’s body. Ela noticed vastly elevated levels of assorted hormones in Sydney’s bloodstream, especially serotonin. So she made her way to the brain. Once more, there was an impervious ‘black box’ there - much larger than the others Ela had found. It sat like a big, fat spider lurking in Sydney’s brain, with tendrils extending deep into her spinal cord. Ela shuddered, wondering who would do such a thing to a person, but she was at least able to alter the molecular gate on the pineal gland to keep serotonin production to its normal levels. She wasn’t sure how long her ‘fix’ would hold for, though; one of the tendrils of that mysterious dark spot extended right into the centre of the gland.
She stayed for a while longer, going through all of Sydney’s systems. She felt the woman reach a level of consciousness and sensed as much as heard the man James offering calming words. Sydney relaxed on the bed, allowing Ela to continue, and she spent the time ensuring that she’d left everything in a state of balance.
When Ela finally let go of Sydney and was able to focus on her surroundings again, almost an hour after she’d begun, she smiled shyly at the woman on the bed. “How are you feeling?” she asked.
Sydney breathed steadily for the first time in hours feeling a multitude of pains and bodily grievances melt away under the young woman’s hand. As she came more to her senses she could make out the numerous people in the room, Dr Wyatt, James, Jerry, Melissa Hartson and finally the shy blonde sitting at the side of the bed. She tried to sit up but had to hold her head groggily.
“Better,” she said finally, fixing her eyes on her saviour, “…thank you.”
James couldn’t hold himself back any longer. As Dr Wyatt checked over Sydney’s vital signs with amazement he made his way to her side, taking hold of her hand. “You really okay? You gave me such a scare.”
Sydney nodded her head, a half smile on her face at his concern. “I’m okay… I really am…” she turned back to the blonde girl, a confused frown on her face. “Who are you?”
“Athela, Ela for short. Uh, you may not be totally cured. There’s stuff in there - I couldn’t ‘see’ into it. Uh, did you know someone’s put... artificial devices of some sort into you?” Ela hoped she wasn’t going to scare the woman by giving her this information, if she didn’t already know about it. But if she didn’t, Sydney deserved to learn of it.
Sydney glanced at Wyatt who suddenly looked a little pale, rising to his feet. The work this woman had done was truly amazing. *If only there was some way to replicate it…* he thought silently. “Sydney’s a Xi type assassin, designed on behalf of the United States central intelligence agency. The Neural Implants you referred to are part of her overall design core and essential to her efficiency output.”
James raised an eyebrow at the doctor’s lucidity. Though he’d seen much affection towards his progeny during the last 24 hours he’d also seen something else, confirmed in the man’s words just now. He believed Sydney to be his, his creation, his possession in every sense of the word.
“We’re indebted to you Ela,” said James, making sure he kept his words soft and friendly as it was obvious the girl felt a little intimidated by the number of people in the room. “And you Mel,” said James turning his attention to the blue haired woman who towered above everyone else. “I owe you one.”
Ela flushed at James’ praise, then turned her attention back to her patient. “I’m serious. Whatever was wrong with you, I think it came from that ‘Neural Implant’ thingy. I’ve got you back to a homeostatic level, but if that thing goes haywire...” She glanced up at Dr Wyatt as she let her sentence die unfinished. The ‘if’ was pretty obvious to her, and if Dr Wyatt had put the implant into Sydney, then he knew, too.
Wyatt caught the girl’s eye and her meaning loud and clear. It had been a fear of his ever since the first Xi’s had begun to die on his operating table and Sydney was the last he ever wanted to see there. If only the CIA hadn’t disbanded his project, if Ford had not killed Mia and Cal… there would be more… more expendable flesh for his experiments.
Mel looked at the scientist and frowned. It wasn’t that her skin crawled, not quite anyway, but she definitely didn’t like him. He obviously knew a lot about Sydney and the word “assassin” rang alarm bells in her mind. What had she just got them involved in? An assassin, created by the American government? Well, it wasn’t totally preposterous but where did James Gates fit in? Had they designed some of the hardware Ela was talking about? That didn’t seem to fit with James’ obvious concern for the woman, but Wyatt obviously thought of Sydney as an experiment. A privileged one perhaps, but still an experiment.
Mel shrugged internally. They seemed to be in a sharing mood so she decided to push the situation slightly. “So are we looking at a general system failure or just a temporary glitch?” The question was of course pretty important. Ela could repair the damage but not the source. In the end even her gifts might not be able to keep Sydney alive.
Dr Wyatt rubbed his hands together uncertainly, “Well, I won’t know unless I get 051… Sydney to my lab and run a full diagnostic check.” He glanced quickly at the man James Gates; he seemed to know a lot about his work, too much to allow him any license in his explanations. “There have been problems with others… I thought with Sydney I’d perfected the implant.”
“They died,” Sydney said flatly, “Five of them from the neural seizures I was having.” She ignored several glances from James as she swung her legs out of the bed and grabbed her boots, lacing them up.
“Sydney…” James began, watching her as she stood up, almost falling over again when she tried to walk. “Sydney, you’ve been in bed for the past two days, take it easy would you!?”
“I haven’t got time!” she said anxiously, pushing him away as she shoved through the other people on her way to the door. She could feel her body straining to keep up with her but she didn’t care. If she was going to die soon there was one thing she needed to do first. She grabbed her jacket from the back of a chair and began pulling it on.
At James’ confused look she sighed, “The person who was following us the other day was an assassin sent to kill me. Sent, James, by Ethan Kale. If my days are numbered I’m taking that bastard with me.”
She walked over to her bag on the floor and pulled out her two trusty desert eagles, strapping them on to her leg holsters. As she straighten up she felt a dizzy spell wash over her, forcing her to drop to her knees as she waited for it to pass.
You didn’t need to be an expert at reading body language to read the room at that moment. Anger came off Sydney in waves. Anger with a touch of desperation. Wyatt and James had remarkably similar reactions but, expert that Mel was, the underlying causes were obviously very different. For James it was concern for a woman he cared for. More deeply than he was willing to admit. Wyatt? Wyatt didn’t want his whole research project destroyed by a futile gesture. Ela was probably hoping she could fix the remaining problems, but she never had a real handle on what Ela was feeling.
And herself? Well Mel wanted to slap the foolish woman silly. “Right now you can barely stand. I doubt Mr Kale is going to be particularly worried. Still, it’s your life.”
Ela hurried to Sydney’s side, helping her to the chair. “Sydney, less than an hour ago you were on the verge of death,” Ela berated her. “You’re a whole lot better now, but you can’t expect to just be able to leap out of bed straight away.” The only times Ela could overcome her shyness around strangers was when it came to their health. Then she could be fearsome.
Sydney shrugged the other woman away, feeling light headed as the dizzy spell began to fade some. *My life? When has it ever been my life?* she thought in a moment of uncharacteristic self-pity.
“Stand down Sydney,” said Wyatt, his voice firm and authoritarian. He walked over to her and knelt by her side, brushing a lock of dark hair from her pale face. “Let me take you back to the lab… I promise I’ll find out what’s wrong this time…”
“Did you promise the others, father?” Sydney shot back harshly, feeling anger and bitterness raging through her. “Daytona? Victor? Conrad? Rachel? Ben? I won’t be the next to die on your operating table, I’d rather take my chances as I am…”
“Then you’ll die.” Wyatt felt the others’ eyes on him as the words left his mouth. “You will die Sydney, if you don’t let me help you…”
Sydney looked up at him, taking a sideways glance at James whose face looked more than helpful, then the two women who stood awkwardly to one side. Slowly she stood and moved over to the door. “Then I’ll see you in Hell,” she said firmly before leaving the room.
Ela looked up helplessly at Mel. She didn’t like the tensions in this room. All this talk of labs and operations reminded her all too clearly of Sara’s cloning facility. The same sort of manipulations seemed to be going on here, this time with Sydney and her implants as the pawn instead of the clones. She wanted nothing more right now than to bolt from the room.
“Well, wasn’t that pleasant?” Mel shared a look with James then rather unnecessarily gave a faint nod towards the door. Unnecessary since James was already moving. Wyatt went to follow but Mel’s voice cracked out, “Not you.”
Wyatt flashed a glare at where Mel stood. He opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off. “Do you even know what’s wrong or are you going to just open her up and hope something jumps out at you?”
“I know I’m her best chance at living right now!” he snapped back angrily. Sydney had never defied him before; it was part of the programming he’d given her, she just was not supposed to be able to deny his word.
“Jerry, stay here with our doctor friend and call the others,” instructed James as he headed towards the door with the others. “Get them to meet you here and-” he cast a wary look at the doctor, “don’t let him out of your sight.”
Ela watched James leave, wishing she could just slip out the door, too. But Mel was standing resolute, glaring at Dr Wyatt, and Ela didn’t want to leave Mel alone with these strangers. Not that she thought Mel couldn’t handle herself, just that she felt happier sticking close to the only person here she knew. Not too close, however, given Mel’s obvious temper at the moment. Instead, Ela shrank towards the corner of the room where she hoped to be unobtrusive.
Mel smiled at Dr Wyatt and found herself a chair. If he pushed the issue she wasn’t really going to use force to stop him, but that was the beauty of a bluff especially when she was such an unknown.
“Why don’t you sit down? I think we might be here a while.” Mel gave the doctor a grin that Mako would have been proud of – all teeth and viciousness.
Out in the corridor James had to run to catch up with Sydney. She was waiting for the elevator, leaning against the wall. It would have been obvious to anyone who saw her that she was in no shape to be out on her own, never mind hunting an unbalanced, psychotic CIA agent like Ethan Kale.
“Don’t do this Sydney, not now,” he urged her, trying to catch her eye which was trained on the floor indicator on the wall. There was a soft ‘PING’ as the elevator arrived and the doors slid open. As Syd moved to walk inside he jumped in front of her, barring the way.
“Do you think I went to all this trouble just to have you get yourself killed again?” he asked angrily, “Don’t do this!” he pleaded again, blocking her way again. He knew it was dangerous territory but he wouldn’t stand aside, he wouldn’t let her get herself killed… not like this.
Sydney sighed in irritation, she was so tired… exhausted really. Despite whatever Ela had done for her she wasn’t back in fighting form; any attack she made on Kale would be a form of suicide and she knew it. Still, she might not have time to wait. If Wyatt’s warning was accurate it could be a matter of days.
“I don’t want to hurt you James, get out of my way!”
“I can’t do that,” he said firmly, fully expecting her to punch him in the face or something similar. When she didn’t he felt bolder and all the more desperate to stand up to her. “I can’t let you go after Kale in the state you’re in.”
Sydney gritted her teeth angrily. Why couldn’t he just stop trying to help her and let her get on with her life? “Why, James?” she asked in annoyance. “Why do you care so much, why do I mean so much to you?”
“Because I-” James stopped suddenly, unable to let himself go any further. Why did he have these feelings for her? He was just setting himself up for a big fall he knew it but he also couldn’t help himself. Her courage, her valour, her foolhardiness… it all just drove him to the point of distraction.
“Because I love you…” he said finally, saying the words before he’d even had time to think.
Sydney was obviously stunned by what he’d said but it wasn’t enough. He leaned in towards her, taking her hands in his like he had wanted to for days now. “I love you Sydney…” he said again looking up at her before letting one of her hands go to reach up and trace the contours of her face, leaning in, he pressed his lips against hers with a barely restrained sigh…
James shook his head clear of the thoughts that entered his mind. He looked up to see Sydney still waiting for his answer, completely oblivious to the little scene that had just run through his head in a matter of seconds.
“Because I need you,” he said finally, moving her away from the elevator doors which closed as it went onwards with its journey. The moment had come and gone like passing between floors, only there was no going back.
“We need you, what you can do. You have a lot to give, Sydney. Your courage gives others hope, your strength lets them believe that this life is worth living. Don’t let all the good work you’re destined to do end tonight.”
“They’re just words,” said Sydney calmly, “It doesn’t mean anything, I could die anyway. I’d rather it be fighting.”
“But don’t you see? It’s the wrong kind of fighting. I want you to fight, Sydney, I want you to fight to live, fight for yourself.” He could tell she was wavering so he made one final entreaty. “Don’t die Sydney, that’s all I’m asking. Don’t die tonight.”
Back in the room, Mel and Wyatt were still sparring. “So, government assassin/research program? How’s that work? You get recruited to work out of college? Some guy in a suit hands you a lot of cash, tells you to build him some brain implants and not to ask too many questions?” Mel was simply baiting the man. It probably wasn’t the best thing to do but she was enjoying trying to crack that arrogant self assurance she could sense. A little humility might be good for him and you never knew, it might help Sydney too.
Jerry rose to his feet, feeling the tension in the room rise somewhat unnervingly. He wasn’t the confrontational type, more comfortable sitting behind his computer terminal or tinkering with circuit boards than talking with people. Still, James had given him the responsibility of taking care of things while he went after Sydney and he wouldn’t let his friend down, ever. He put himself between the aged doctor and the blue haired meta, feeling sick with nerves if either should challenge him.
“N-n-now c-come on, p-please you t-t-two,” he stammered out anxiously. As their eyes turned their attention to him he felt his face flush, the meta woman was extremely attractive and he felt instantly more tense under her mirrored gaze.
“L-let’s all calm down sh-shall we?” he said trying to muster as much authority as he could. “Anyone for a game of Yahtzee?”
Ela blinked at the man who’d placed himself in such a precarious position. Dr Wyatt had stayed very quiet, but was obviously fuming under Mel’s barrage, and as for Mel - well, Ela had seen what happened when Mel got really angry. Silently she willed Jerry to get out of harm’s way.
Mel dialled her anger back with a bit of difficulty. Wyatt’s arrogant assumption of superiority plain annoyed her and she’d had too many dealings recently with similar people. Still, that wasn’t Jerry’s fault and underneath the nervousness he seemed a nice enough guy. “Look, Jerry was it? So long as Mengele over there doesn’t do anything stupid we won’t have a problem but I’ve a question or two. Nobody seemed surprised when Ela said Sydney was a cyborg. Care to fill us in?”
“S-sh-she’s n-n-not a cyborg as such,” stammered Jerry, unnerved by the woman’s direct and abrupt manner. “Sydney’s what-what’s called an MLSS-”
Dr Wyatt suddenly jumped in, cutting Jerry off mid-sentence. Sydney was HIS creation after all; if anyone was going to bask in the success of his project it was going to be himself!
“Sydney is an Xi-Series MLSS, a Meta Level Super Soldier, commissioned by the United States Central Intelligence Agency to help regulate the meta problem.” He said the last words with a small amount of amusement in his voice, directed solely at the blue haired woman and her friend. “She’s one of the last of her kind, an advanced human in every sense of the word.”
Jerry could sense the meta woman’s ire and jumped in again, hoping to pour oil on troubled waters. He’d done a lot of research into the ATP:9 project and knew enough about Sydney’s enhancements to talk about them with credulity. “She’s human, reared within The Project using a series of cybernetic and sensory augmentation techniques, neuro-prosthetics and environmental conditioning.”
Dr Wyatt smiled pleasantly again, his gaze fixed on the woman’s mirrored eyes. “Metas are an inherently unpredictable race that the public needs protecting from if need be…”
Ela didn’t even have words for how Dr Wyatt’s statements made her feel. The only ‘meta problem’ that she could see was that some people insisted on treating them like they weren’t even human. She could practically see Mel’s blood pressure rising, and she reached out to touch her friend’s hand lightly.
“Mel, come on. Let’s go. He doesn’t think we’re people, and nothing we say will ever change his mind.” Ela’s voice shook with pent up emotions; she wanted to yell at the man, show him what a fool he was, but she knew it was futile.
Mel wanted the blast the smug, self satisfied smile of this idiot’s face. The only problem was, that would confirm his moronic attitude. “You’re right, but then his ‘precious’ Xi-051 isn’t a person either. Still, the young girl your program systematically brutalised wouldn’t be alive except for the intervention of a member of our ‘inherently unstable race’. And isn’t that an inaccurate and scientifically inept term?” After all, unless you went looking for very specific markers like sickle cell anaemia, race was a tricky thing to pin down in any meaningful genetic way.
Mel ground down her temper and looked back at Jerry. “How many Xi’s were there?”
“That information is classified,” Wyatt barked out harshly; he wasn’t about to be lectured to by an obstinate girl more than half his age! “There… there may have been flaws in my design, I admit that…”
He sat down tiredly, holding his head in his hands. It was all becoming too much for him… ever since he’d got involved with Observer and Sara… he was getting too old for all this… “But the threat that was perceived was a real one, you can’t deny that… maybe not all metas are a danger but I think the events in the news recently have proved that the current methods simply do not work anymore. My Xi’s could have prevented such an incident from occurring… have done so in the past with marked success… my work has saved lives…”
Ela looked up at Dr Wyatt, her anger draining away. Behind all his bluster he was just a sad, pathetic old man ruled by fear. “The threat only became real because people like you made it so. If you’d only accepted metas in the first place instead of being afraid of us, there wouldn’t be all the trouble there is now. What does anyone do when they’re backed into a corner, Dr Wyatt? They fight back. Metas want the same as anyone else; a quiet life, being allowed to go about their business. But you and others like you have to play God and muddle about with people to create ‘super soldiers’ to fight us. Why? Because people who aren’t meta think they’re at a disadvantage. Well, maybe they are and maybe they aren’t – but everyone has some natural advantage over someone else, meta or not. The only reason there’s violence out there is because frightened people have stirred up the ants’ nest. Leave us in peace and we’ll live in peace.”
Ela felt her knees go weak. She couldn’t believe she’d just said all that, and to a stranger to boot. But she just couldn’t keep quiet any longer. She glanced at Mel, and saw the woman’s jaw hanging agape at her lengthy speech, but there was something else too. After a second Ela recognised it – there was a look of fierce pride in Mel’s eye. Ela smiled tentatively at her.
James kept a wary eye on Sydney as they made their way back to the room in silence. She refused his help as he knew she would; she was too proud and headstrong to admit that she needed anyone’s help, but he could tell that despite Ela’s miracle healing she was still weak and tired, probably needing some downtime before she would be back on fighting form. As he pushed open the door the occupants fell quickly silent. James glanced around in surprise, wondering what had been going on while he was away. The tension in the room was so thick he could cut it with a knife.
“Um… hi everyone…” he asked tentatively, “Did we miss anything?”
*Nothing much, just the world tilting on its axis.*
“Dr. Wyatt and I were just discussing his work.” Mel looked Sydney over; the faint tremors of exhaustion were evident to anyone who cared to look.
*There, you did it again...* Sym grumbled in the back of her head.
Mel just shook her head and ignored her. “So did we miss anything?”
James glanced at Sydney as she dropped her things back on the floor and sank down into a chair, pushing her hair from her face tiredly. “No,” she sighed, “but I can’t fight all of you. I’ll stay, for now.”
James turned to the other people and smiled awkwardly. “I hate to break up the party but I think Sydney could do with some rest after all this…” He clocked the angry glances exchanged between Melissa and Dr Wyatt and frowned. The doctor’s work wasn’t that well known to him, well, apart from what he had done to Sydney. Still, she was a solider designed to protect humans from metas, assassinate them if need be - it didn’t take a genius to figure out the crux of the animosity he felt between them.
Ela watched Sydney’s movements carefully, noting how weak she still was. Her system had been through an incredible amount of stress and, super soldier or no, a body needed time to recover from that sort of ordeal. She moved to Sydney’s side and murmured, “You really should have a little more rest before you can go charging about. Just...” Ela flicked her eyes towards Dr Wyatt for an instant, “I don’t believe that man has your best interests at heart. He’s ruled by fear. Be careful.”
Sydney raised her eyes to look at the girl, then cast her gaze over to her ‘father’ who stood just a little way off. He had raised her from a baby, trained her, groomed her for the life she lived, there was no way she could ever desert him even if she wanted to. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she sighed tiredly. “But thanks,” she said quickly as the girl shrugged and rose to her feet, ready to leave with her friend. “You saved my life tonight. I won’t forget it.”
The rest of the group began to disperse. Jerry headed off with Dr Wyatt back to the Ritz Carlton where the rest of the VCLG were staying; if everything was well, James would return with Sydney in the morning. Ela returned to Mel’s side as the two women also prepared to leave and James followed them quickly, stopping them both in the corridor just outside the room.
“Look, I don’t know what happened in there after I left but-” He stopped, seeing the exchanged glances between the women. “I just wanted to say thanks, both of you…”
He hastily reached into his pocket and pulled out a scrap of paper and scribbled his room number and a telephone extension before handing it to Mel. “If you need me, I’m staying at the Ritz Carlton… perhaps we can get together sometime? There are things we really should talk about further…” He looked purposefully at Mel. The ‘things’ in question were Observer and Sara to be specific; he just didn’t feel safe saying the names out loud.
Ela felt a tiny twinge of jealousy. Why hadn’t the gorgeous man given her his phone number? But it was clear James was besotted with Sydney, so Ela just sighed and kept quiet.
Mel leant forward and gave James a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks Jimmy,” she grinned, “I’ll be in touch.”
“Busy day, eh?” Ela observed as she and Mel left the hotel and encountered the chilly evening air. “We’ve met Sydney’s lot, and Sol, and we found out…” The words ‘you’re a big fat lezzo’ died on Ela’s lips. Mel clearly hadn’t come to terms with that aspect yet, and probably wouldn’t appreciate the joke. “...found out that you were holding back all the juicy details of how spunky James is,” she finished instead.
Mel looked quizzically at Ela. She’d been about to say something else, she was sure, but right now she wasn’t going to dig. Instead she replied to Ela’s comments. “It’s James Gates. The most eligible bachelor in the western world. Ok, excepting royalty. He’s been on the cover of more magazines than a Cosmo model. How can you not know how handsome he is?”
Ela shrugged. “Yeah, I’ve seen his picture. We do get magazines in the outback - and the internet. But I dunno, I just never fancied him. But in person...” Ela sighed and linked her arm through Mel’s casually, determined not to give in to her earlier fears - Mel was still Mel, after all. “It’s such a pity Sydney’s already got him hooked, but we can still look, eh?”
“Yeah, we can look.”
*It hasn’t stopped you yet.*
Mel’s smile faltered.
Ela’s smile also grew uncertain. Just as in the restaurant with Sol, Mel had got that faraway look in her eye for a second. “Mel?”
Mel turned to Ela, her eyes clearing as she raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”
Ela paused. “Uh, nothing. I’m tired. Can we just go back to the hotel? I need another nap.”
CROSSOVER SERIES ONE: NOVEMBER 16, 2003 TO MARCH 31, 2004
Tuesday, 25th November 2003 - 6:30pm
Ela watched Mel hang up the phone, her stomach growling at the thought of the food that had just been ordered from room service. She was feeling tired from the full day, and planned to crash as soon as she'd eaten dinner. But it would be a while before it arrived, and Ela found her eyes following Mel's movements around the room.
"Mel..." she began, and paused, unsure how to continue.
Mel stopped fidgeting around the room and turned toward Ela. Seeing her somewhat concerned face Mel winced inwardly and sat down on the sofa. Ela was going to start asking questions – awkward questions – and unlike Mel had with Sol, she couldn't just slap Ela down. Not after how she'd acted. Momentarily feeling their usual positions were reversed, Mel replied in a small voice. "Yeah?"
Ela shifted in her seat, biting her lip. "Well, it's just that... Where do you go?"
Not the question she was expecting. Mel tried to switch mental gears and work out what Ela was talking about. "Go?"
"Well," Ela waved her hands vaguely, wishing it were easier to find words that fit the ideas in her head. "I've seen you just space out on me. It's almost like you're off someplace else, or having a conversation in your head. You've been doing it much more lately – are you sure that rock thingy isn't trying to take you over or anything?" There, it was out – Ela's worst science fiction fears out in the open. And they sounded perfectly stupid now that she'd voiced them. She shrank in her seat, wishing she hadn't spoken after all.
"Oh right." Mel frowned, she hadn't thought it was that obvious.
*Guess she's talking about me...*
*Right, what clued you in on that?* Mel paused, *So do I tell her?*
*You're asking for my opinion?* Sym 'shrugged', *Tell her if you like; she knows most
of it already after all, but I wouldn't spread it too widely.*
*No, I guess not.*
Ela stared at her friend. Ok, maybe her science-fiction fears weren't so stupid after all. "Mel, you're doing it again. What is it? Your alien rock guy telling you how to get out of this? Or is he telling you to kill me and hide the body?" Ela's tone was joking, but inside she was half serious. A small flutter of anxiety rose in her chest, but she fought it down.
Mel refocused on Ela and smiled. "Actually, she was pretty surprised I asked her opinion. Um... you know I talked about the strange voices and visions I occasionally got? It seems she's finally found the right frequency." Mel carefully concealed her trepidation. There was always the niggling fear that she really was schizophrenic and that 'Sym' was just a manifestation of her worsening symptoms.
"And... so she's doing what in there? I've seen these movies, Mel. The alien critter gets hold of someone and then goes on to take over the world. How do I know you're really ok? What do you know about this alien chick, anyway? Does she even have a name? I don't want to wake up in a cocoon one morning, y'know." Ela was wishing more and more that she'd not brought this subject up - it was making her nervous. Visions of Ridley Scott's aliens rampaging across the countryside played out in her brain. "What does she want with you? Why's she doing this?"
"This is going to sound crazy, Ela. Could you settle for just knowing her name is Sym and she has no intention of taking over the world?" The look on Ela's face was enough to tell Mel that that explanation wasn’t going to satisfy her.
"Ok, her name is Sym – or rather, that's what I call her since she didn't have a name. She 'works' for a bunch of aliens and they want me to..." Mel paused, struck dumb again by the sheer enormity of Sym's conceit.
"To what?" Despite her worries, Ela found herself fascinated. Life on alien planets was something she'd often wondered about. Rumours abounded that some metas were really aliens, but until Mel had talked about her find in the desert she hadn't believed any of them. And now Mel was saying she was in contact with a being called Sym. But there was that question left hanging...
"What do they want you to do? If it's to take over the world, I hope you said no."
"No," Mel gave a half hearted laugh, "they don't want to me to take over the world." Rubbing her hands over her face Mel tried to think just how to put this. "Remember when I came back from the gym after Observer pulled all his crap?"
Ela nodded, her expression falling. "Yeah, I do." She'd felt shut out by Mel that day, but now perhaps she understood. Her expression slowly brightened as she said, "Is that when Sym first 'spoke' to you? You were so... weird that day."
"Yeah. There's Observer trying to lay down the law and suddenly I'm getting a running commentary. She can be an acid-tongued witch at times."
*Acid tongued witch?!*
"Any way we had a... discussion while I was running.” Mel fell silent again and simply stared into space for a few seconds.
"Discussion?" Ela prompted, getting Mel to focus back on her. She rose from the couch and led Mel to a seat, then perched nearby. "My Mum always said that stuff is better out than in, and she meant all kinds of stuff. What did Sym tell you that was so horrible?"
"Not horrible. We got into a lot of," Mel's voice gained a touch of humour, "metaphysics about metahumans and about what happens if all this," Mel gestured out of the hotel window, "gets out of hand."
Mel finally fixed her gaze on Ela. "It seems they think humanity needs a nursemaid and for some reason I got the job." There, it was out. Ela was smart enough to read between the lines. She was a little naive but not unintelligent. Mel was supposed to save the world, against its wishes if necessary.
There was silence for a moment then Ela laughed. It started as a giggle and rose to engulf her in hysterical gasps. "I'm sorry," she said, wiping a tear of laughter from the corner of her eye, "but don't you see the irony? Observer wanted you to be the public face of the meta saviours, and Sym's lot want you to really be that saviour." Ela indulged in some fresh giggles before subsiding again. "Sorry, it just struck my funny bone."
Ela sobered as she watched Mel's face oscillate between mirth and disapproval. "I am sorry, Mel. I know it's not really that funny, especially for you. But I do love the irony of it."
"Yeah I guess, but that's it, they want me to save the world. Me! Where do I even start? How do I fix what's already broken?" Her voice dropped to a ragged whisper, "What if I mess it up?"
"That's what you said earlier, about Mako. If you missed, you missed. If you mess this up, you mess this up. You can't not do something because you're afraid you'll fail. You're guaranteed to fail if you don't act. Sometimes you have to take the chance. I'm sure the aliens chose you for a reason, Mel. They have faith in you."
Ela rested her hand atop Mel's, "And so do I."
Mel looked down at Ela's hand. "If I mess up I mess up? Ela... If I mess up it's over. We're extinct."
Ela sighed. She knew it; every time she tried to get philosophical it all came out wrong. "What I meant was – you didn't miss this morning, did you? And you won't mess up. Ask your alien buddy in there how many people they checked out before they settled on you. I'm betting you weren't an accident. And frankly, I don't see them pinning all their hopes on one thread – you can bet they have a Plan B. I just hope they're as benign as you say."
Mel looked inward to where Sym resided. *So do you have a plan B?*
*Uh well... there's a limit to how far we can intervene before our presence becomes counter productive. But you can assure Ela we're benign.*
*So you don't have a plan B?*
*Not as such, no.*
"Oh God." And there it was, the thought she'd managed to keep avoiding the last few days. Someone was telling her the fate of the world was in her hands and she didn't think she was up to the task.
Ela watched the expressions chase across Mel's features. It didn't look like good news. Ela could have kicked herself. She'd foolishly assumed that the alien knew what it was doing in choosing Mel, and that it would be sensible enough to consider a backup. But apparently such was not the case.
"So... what?" she asked, "Is this Sym telling you that no, they just grabbed the first bum who stumbled across their pretty rock? That a civilisation so advanced they can inhabit somebody's mind can't even come up with a system for ensuring their plans come to fruition?" Ela heaved a sigh and spoke quietly, "Or... maybe... It's possible there is no alien, Mel. That the rock didn't just change you physically, but affected your mental well-being. Maybe Sym's your subconscious trying to find a reason for what's happened to you..."
And there it was. The other possibility that gnawed at Mel's mind was that this all just a delusion. Just her own mind trying to make sense of the madness her life had become. Her subconscious giving her reasons to do something she didn't want to.
“I don't know. Maybe. Sometimes she hardly seems alien but then... That whole metaphysics conversation, I don't think I came up with that. For that matter do I seem the person to have a martyr complex?"
Ela looked down at her hands, twining her fingers in her lap self-consciously. "I don't know... I mean, I didn't know you before this all started for you. I wouldn't say you were crazy, but then you saw how it changed you to have a few hormones floating around your system this morning. Who knows what effect it had on you to have all this meta stuff suddenly manifest?"
Mel winced but carried on regardless. "Maybe, but that rock was hollow and it's definitely extra-terrestrial. You just don’t get that sort of material in any other way." Mel stood up suddenly and strode forcefully across the room. "No, I'm not crazy, just..."
Ela finished the sentence for her, "Just carrying around an alien in your head who wants you to be the messiah."
She sighed, "Look, I don't know if Sym is really in there or not. I don't doubt the rock was extra-terrestrial. Hell, every meteor is extra-terrestrial. But I do know that whenever I touch you, I sense some strange biochemistry. Now, I don't know if that's the result of an alien in your mind or the result of whatever radiation you picked up from that rock that activated your latent meta gene. All I do know is that you're hearing a voice telling you that you have to save the world. Does she have any suggestions as to how?"
*Remember what I said about being counter productive...*
*That's an easy dodge.*
*Isn't it, though? Look, you know what needs to be done. As for how, well that's something you need to work out. Successfully integrating metas into their host culture is different for every species.*
"And there's another meaningless platitude. If you can't help, why are you here?"
*To make sure someone knows what's at stake as well as highlighting other more pernicious influences.*
"Pernicious? I've never used the word pernicious in my life..."
*I know, but it's there in your vocabulary. I thought I'd use it... you know, generate some separation...*
Mel suppressed a snort then sobered as she saw Ela's face. She held up her hands. "Sorry," she said rather contritely.
Ela thought she preferred it when Mel simply developed the thousand-yard stare. The one-sided conversation creeped her out a little, but in the same way that half a phone conversation could reveal a lot about the topic, so did Mel's mutterings.
"Uh, it's ok," Ela said eventually, "Just don't do that in public, or people really will think you're crazy. But... if she says she can't help you be the 'saviour', then what is she doing here? It's a good question. What was her answer to that?"
Ela still wasn't convinced Sym was real. Sure, Mel had these funky meta powers, but then so did a bunch of other people and none of them claimed to have an alien talking to them. But she wasn't ready to dismiss it either, just yet.
"Well there's this bunch of aliens – the Bakarrans. They're xenophobic, paranoid and genocidal. They've sent an agent to Earth to wipe us all out. And no, she can't help much beyond telling me they exist." Mel blinked. That's how they got the proof; how on Earth had she forgotten about that? "Energy guns. This agent can build rayguns.”
*They're particle beam guns and you forgot it probably because you're too busy being Miss Egypt 2004. Oh and don't forget I'm the reason you're a meta.*
Mel practically growled. "Yes, that's another thing. She's supposedly responsible for me getting the whole power gig." Mel continued on rather self reflectively, "Though that could just be me mixing up cause and effect."
*Rayguns now?* Ela raised an eyebrow at that. It seemed Mel had seen even cheesier sci-fi shows than she had, and that was saying something. But when she spoke of mixing cause and effect, it mirrored much of what Ela herself had been wondering.
“Maybe. I really don't know. I'm sorry, Mel. I wish I could tell you for certain if you were just loopy or if it was for real. All I can say is that your biochemistry is out of whack to a normal human, but that could be just because of the meta thing." Ela shrugged.
"Unless there's some proof she's really in there, all I know is that you believe Sym's an alien... And that you've got to stop this other bad alien from wiping us out. How are you supposed to tell which one is the other alien? Will it have antennae?" She couldn't resist a smirk, "Or maybe it'll have blue skin, or start to melt in the heat, or something."
"Actually the damn thing sounds like a recipe for paranoia. It's a nanite clade. Capable of taking people over and turning them against their own species. Anyway, apparently the whole nuke at the Hoover dam? That was this 'agent'."
She ran a hand through her hair and sighed. "I don't know, but loopy or not it's time I did something. Even if it's not about saving the world I refuse to let things like Mako or that hostage taking idiot from ruining it for the rest of us."
Ela had to nod in agreement with that. The meta troubles had all seemed so distant and unreal when she'd been safe on Alpana Station, healing the sheep and the neighbours. News of attacks by and on metas were mostly from half a world away and didn't seem to have much to do with her sleepy corner of the world. Now she was in the middle of it, and it frightened her. But, like Mel, she couldn't just sit by and let it happen around her.
"Yes, I agree. We can't," she said. Silently, however, she still wondered about Mel's 'hitchhiker', if indeed Sym was real. Mel didn't seem to have a lot by way of hard evidence to show Sym actually existed. Everything she'd mentioned could be just fancy – and certainly events like the nuke at the Hoover were meant to be attributed to human causes. If she recalled correctly, it was meant to have been Earthrage who'd planted that. But even if there really was an alien in Mel's head, who was to say that it really was benign?
Ela smiled at Mel, ready to drop the topic, especially since their dinner arrived just then. But she wasn't about to forget it, that was for sure.
Ric and Vic at The Lounge
***Tuesday, 25 November 2003 - 10:00pm - The Lounge***
Ricardo Falconi turned away from the three young men seated beside him at the tiny table in The Lounge. The club had a great reputation here in Washington D.C. and listening to the man on the stage now, he understood why. Vic Meranti was class and cool personified. He was also an old friend of the Falconi family. Ric had known him since he was a little boy. Vic was like an uncle to him, and as a child Ric could remember sitting in the audience of many a show at the Apollo Room of his father’s casino, The Empire, with his mother, listening to Vic woo the audience with his rendition of “The Good Life.” Hearing Vic sing it now took him back, and made him long for the easier days of his childhood. Part of him wanted to turn tail and run home, to tell these “Spears” that he wanted no part in what was going on.
Ricardo recognized how impossible that was, though. He couldn’t go back, no matter what. He wasn’t like most of the people sitting in this room. He gazed around, noticing the couples, the groups of friends, and he wondered what they would do if they knew. He turned his attention back to his three new “friends”. The only one he actually knew personally was Jaime Lawton. Jaime was the one who’d approached him. They’d been friends for a really long time. Jaime’s dad was a plastic surgeon with offices in Vegas, as well as Bel Aire, Hollywood, and Beverly Hills. He was very, very rich, just like Ricardo’s dad.
Being the wealthy, privileged sons of seriously powerful men was not all that Ricardo and Jaime had in common. There was something else, something much, much more important. Ric had learned only a few days ago, that Jaime was also a metahuman. They were both here in Washington because of the Summit, because of what the proposed legislation could mean to them and their families. Ric often wished he had never found out about his abilities, that he’d never realized what he could do, just as he wished he hadn’t found out about his mother, that she had hid these things from him for so long.
Now, Jaime and these others were offering him a way to vent some of the anger and frustration he’d been feeling for months. They were offering him a place in the group they had formed to fight for metahuman rights; a group that for all intents and purposes was a terrorist organization. They weren’t concerned with being on the right side of the law, because they believed they were ultimately on the right side, period. He was sure his mother wouldn’t approve, but he was so angry with her. She’d taught him to be honest, to value of integrity, even as he’d watched his father bend, and sometimes actually break, the rules to get ahead. Vincent Falconi was just this side of a criminal, and Ric resented the hell out of him. His mother though, Jhenna Falconi was different. She was warm and open, and, so he believed his whole life, honest to a fault. She encouraged her son to always do the “right” thing. She sometimes seemed to him to be some kind of angel or something. She never erred, or so he believed. Then, just after his 21st birthday, Ric found out that his mother had a secret, and it was a doozy.
Jhenna Falconi was metahuman too. Ric didn’t know what she could do, but in an effort to comfort him, she’d admitted she wasn’t “normal” either. Ric hadn’t been comforted. He’d felt betrayed. His mother had known all his life, but she’d never told him. She’d guessed that he would be metahuman too, but she’d kept it from him. She’d hoped he would escape, that he would luck out, but that was the one place that his power did not extend.
Ric was lucky. That was his thing. His whole life, he’d thought nothing of it, but then, when he turned 21, he’d started gambling in casinos around the city. He’d exerted conscious control over his power for the first time, and he’d soon realized he was different. He wasn’t just lucky. Fortune was his to command. He couldn’t lose. That was when he’d realized he was a metahuman, and when he’d gone to his mother, because he trusted her above all. He’d felt like such a fool, and he’d been so angry ever since.
“So, Ric,” Jaime interrupted his musings, “we have to get going.”
Jaime paused, glancing up at the old man on the stage. He grimaced. Ric’s taste in music left a lot to be desired. “I hope you’ll think about what we talked about. We could really use you.”
Ric nodded. He still wasn’t sure. This organization Jaime was talking about, it was a terrorist group. No matter what face you tried to put on it that was the truth. Ric was mad. He was mad at fate, or genetics or whatever, and he was mad at his mom, but most of all he was mad at the bigots, the ignorant creeps who called him “less than human”; who wanted to cage him, or collar him, or whatever else they had in mind. He wanted, very much, to get back at all of them. These guys offered him a way to do just that, but was he prepared to take that step. That was the question he needed to answer for himself, before he could answer them.
“I will,” Ric said, “I doubt I’ll think about anything else. I just…I’m not sure.”
“Well, don’t take forever,” one of the other guys sneered. He was a gorilla of a man, and he didn’t seem too bright. “We ain’t gonna wait for you to make up your mind too long, pretty boy!”
Ric sighed. “I know. I’ll give you a call tomorrow, Jaime. I’ll have an answer then.”
Jaime nodded and gestured for his two companions to exit The Lounge. They left Ric nursing a drink and brooding just as Vic Meranti finished his set.
Ric stood and moved towards the side of the stage, waiting for Vic to step down. It would be good to see an old friend who didn't have another agenda.
"Hey, Uncle Vic!" Ric called out a greeting, catching the older man's attention.
Vic stopped in the middle of trying to get through with his greetings. One glance at Falconi was all he needed to know that he was in the middle of thinking about some rather big offer he just got. "Hey, pally," he called back, trying to get through the crowd. He stopped long enough to give a woman his autograph before reaching him. "Jeez, you look out of it. What's your bag, man?"
Ric laughed. Leave it to Vic to notice right away that he had something big on his mind.
"Uh," Ric glanced around at the crowd by the stage. This was definitely not the place to discuss what was on his mind. “I do sort of have something on my mind, but…well, maybe it would help to talk it out, you know?" Ric said. "Somewhere...quiet..."
Vic nodded, motioning towards a booth in the back. "Yeah, sure, not a problem. That table there is free and well it's private enough that we can talk - swear to Buddha," he added this last at Falconi's worried glance. Vic went off to the bar to get a drink, as he always did before sliding into the booth beside an old friend.
Soleil laughed at Linda's pained expression. She supposed crooner style music was an acquired taste, and she'd acquired it long ago, thanks for her Dad. Mitch Munroe was a fan of all the greats, from the world famous, like Sinatra, to the lesser known, like one Vic Meranti. When Sol had seen an advert for his show at The Lounge, she'd known that was the perfect topper to her day. She'd jumped into something...festive, and grabbed Linda before the other woman could protest. As Vic finished his set and moved off the stage, Linda groaned.
"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," the other girl said. "Seriously, Sol, it's not exactly...well, our kind of music, you know?"
"Linda, just relax," Sol advised, feeling really good. "I love this stuff. My dad is totally into it, and it makes you feel...good. Just be open."
Linda rolled her eyes in response. She didn't say anything else though, because a very good looking guy walked by and checked them out. "On the other hand, this place does have some...redeeming value."
Sol laughed. That was just so Linda. "So go talk to him," she advised.
Linda shook her head, looking wistful. "I couldn't leave you alone," she sighed. "That wouldn't be fair."
"Go on, I insist," Sol replied, watching Vic Meranti and a young man at a boot near the back. "I'll be fine. I'll go...try and talk to Vic or something. If I could get an autograph, my dad would be over the moon."
Linda hesitated a moment, and then sprang to her feet. "Ok, if you're sure, I mean..." She was walking away before Sol could even reply. Sol sipped at her Shirley Temple for a few moments, watching Linda approaching a group of guys at another table. She scanned the crowd, and then glanced back at Vic's booth. He and the young man had just settled in. She wasn't sure they'd appreciate being interrupted.
When Vic slid into the booth with his drink, Ric suddenly felt unsure. He didn't know if this was the right approach. He'd never discussed his metahumanity with anyone besides his mother, and now Jaime and his...associates. What would Vic think?
Ric stalled for time, letting his gaze roam the club.
"Quite a crowd you've pulled in here, Uncle Vic," Ric commented. "I guess you've still got it, huh?"
"More like the city's got everyone on edge, they need time to relax. Especially after that stuff earlier in the day," he replied, slowly shaking his head. Trust in Ric to find a way to divert the conversation. Well if he didn't want to talk about it, Vic wouldn't force him. Vic suddenly downed his martini, and then thought that he wouldn't do something like that again. *Vic, you're too old to be doing that.* "Come on, let's go," he said getting up.
Ric gave him an odd look before the crooner turned back to him. "I know you, Ric. You're either going to change the subject all night and be depressed or talk about it - and there is enough depression around here as it is."
*Where does he think we're going?* Ric thought. He shrugged. Vic was right. He needed to talk it out, or he'd be up all night, working it over and over in his mind. Ric stood to follow Vic.
Sol noticed Vic and the younger man stand and start heading in her general direction. *Oh, damn, where's he going now?* Sol thought to herself. *If he leaves, when will I ever get this chance again?*
Sol jumped up, prepared to give chase if necessary. She really did want that autograph for her dad.
Vic glanced around the lounge, trying to look for a woman whose status screamed single. It was something that one of his old buddies had done to him before, and he didn't mind doing it to Ric either. There was more than one way to become distracted from your problems.
*There* he thought, putting on a rather large and playful smile. He noticed the two women at the table glancing in their direction, and one of them who was dressed rather loudly - he couldn't think of any other way to describe a red spaghetti strap dress - seemed like a good person to get Ric in trouble with, the card player following behind him. "Pardon me, miss," Vic said when he reached their table. "Mind if I ask your name?"
Sol was shocked when Vic and his young friend stopped at her table. He asked her name, but she was so surprised she didn't immediately respond.
Ric eyed the leggy blonde warily. *What exactly are you up to, old man?* Ric thought. The girl was all curves and golden skin barely encased in a tight, short red dress. Her hair was a mass of golden curls, falling around a pretty face with a very surprised expression. Apparently she didn't know Vic at all, and since Vic had asked her name, Ric assumed the man didn't know her either.
Finally, regaining her composure, Sol smiled brightly and responded. "I'm Soleil...Soleil Munroe. And I have to tell you, I was just trying to work up the nerve to interrupt you Mr. Meranti. I think you're just great, and my dad's a huge fan. I was thinking I might ask you for an autograph."
Sol paused, turning her attention to Vic's young friend. She hadn't noticed from a distance just how attractive he was. He had dark, thick brown hair that was just a bit too long, and deep brown eyes. His features were classic, and Sol figured he was definitely at least partly Italian. The man wore dark black jeans and a black fitted t-shirt under a battered black leather jacket. There was something about him, something dangerous and disreputable, but compelling just the same.
"I thought maybe I would be interrupting though," Sol said, turning her attention back to Vic with some effort. She smiled all the more brightly at the older man, but she could feel the younger ones eyes upon her and she fought the urge to squirm or tug at the hem of her dress.
"Believe me, you wouldn't be interrupting at all," Vic's voice sounded cheerful, and that grin stayed on his face. Ric was finally within earshot, which served him well for what he had planned. She certainly seemed attractive and interesting enough, bound to have a great time with him.
"This here's my buddy Ric," he started, motioning towards the other man. "Now see, I've got a small problem. A young man sees a lovely woman such as yourself, he normally says something. Only this time, he's too nervous."
Ric was still staring openly at Soleil when Vic spoke. He whipped his head about, instead staring at Vic, who had apparently just lost his mind. "What?!" Ric sputtered. "I never...I didn't..."
He turned back to Soleil. "I wasn't...I don't know what he's talking about."
Sol laughed out loud at Ric's obvious embarrassment. She had a feeling this particular man rarely felt unsure of himself. It was very funny to see him at such a loss. Apparently, Vic Meranti had an interesting sense of humor.
"Well," Sol said, tongue in cheek, "Ric, it's customary, in places like this, to at least approach the person who's caught your eye and introduce yourself. Failing that, you could offer to buy me a drink...or ask me to dance...or just join me..."
Sol gestured to two of the empty chairs at her table. "Both of you please," she said, sliding back into her own. "I'm fascinated by Ric's predicament."
Sol turned her smile on Vic. "Care to tell me more?"
Vic winked at Ric before sitting in a chair - leaving the one across from Sol deliberately free for Ric to take - and making of show of adjusting the bow tie on his tux. "Ain't he just the cutest when he's in denial?" Ric was still sputtering as Vic improvised on the spot.
He just had to love Sol's dazzling smile, and got his first impressions of her. She certainly would be someone rather good to set up Ric with - maybe she could tame him. "So I finish my set, go to catch up with an old friend, and first thing he does is start talking about this doll in a red dress. Tell him to just go for it and say something, he starts talking about how he's going to get clutched. I'm surprised you didn't see him drawing designs on you earlier."
Ric was sputtering again. Sol found it endearing. Of course, Meranti was full of it. She knew that because she'd been watching their table covertly and Ric hadn't once glanced in her direction.
*What are you up to, old man?* Sol wondered. *Just ribbing the kid or is there something else going on here?*
"So, Ric, aside from hanging out with disreputable old singers in smoky lounges ogling young women you've never met, what are you doing in Washington? You from here or somewhere else?"
Ric turned his still goggle eyed stare on Soleil. *What the hell am I supposed to do now? She thinks I've been undressing her from across the room for half the night,* Ric thought. "Not that undressing her mentally or physically would be a real trial. Damn! Now he's got me thinking about that. I am going to kill you later, Uncle Vic.*
"I...actually, no I'm not from Washington, but I've been here a few times with my dad," Ric replied, trying to shrug off his embarrassment. "I actually live in Vegas. My parents, uhm...they own a few casinos out there."
Vic laughed rather jovially at that description. "A couple? That's one way of putting it." Then Vic stopped, he knew when it was time to stop teasing his old friends. Turning back to Ric with a rather pointed look, he said, "Now, aren't you glad you talked to your Uncle Vic about what's bothering you?"
Ric just glared at Vic. Obviously, he shouldn't have hemmed and hawed earlier and this was his punishment for it. "Yeah, I got it Uncle Vic."
Sol watched the two men, aware that she wasn't in on this part of the conversation. She blinked a few times at the mention of "Uncle Vic". *Is he Vic Meranti's nephew?* she wondered. *No, I don't think they're actually related. It's probably more like the plethora of uncles and aunts I have back in Utopia. *And he's from Vegas, just like Mel and Ela. That's funny. I've never met anyone from there before and now twice in one day. Go figure. It's a 'small world after all' I guess.*
Sol was about to interject something, when she heard a commotion by the front door. She turned her attention in that direction and gasped.
Vic looked in the direction of the gasp, seeing another rather attractive woman there with a rather geeky guy who was trying to get away. His glance back at Sol made him shake his head. He had recognized the woman, she was on the news earlier. Now they were going to cause trouble. In his club. "Excuse me a second," he said standing up, "but I'm afraid that duty calls."
Putting on the sternest look he could muster, Vic started to head over to them. Ric had seen that look before, politely excusing himself to get up before Vic did anything stupid. "Pardon me, miss," Vic started, reaching the area where the Meta was. "I don't mind you being here for a good time, but if you're going to cause trouble, I'll have to ask you to leave. It's bad for business to have you beating up the customers."
*Damn!* Sol thought, as Vic Meranti and his young friend charged over to where Pretty Poison and her friend stood just within the door. A crowd of hopeful men had already gathered around them, and when Vic confronted her, the crowd let up a chorus of
protests.
*What the hell is she doing here?* Sol stood up and started towards the group. *And who's her poor friend, another schlub she's got under her spell, I bet.*
"Vic," Sol tugged discreetly on the older man's sleeve, and leaned close to him, whispering in his ear. "She's serious trouble, but I don't think you should confront her here. Someone could get hurt. I could...uhm...take care of this for you, if you just step aside."
Vic rolled his eyes. *Great, I get the hero type as well. So was she the cheerleader or the blue one?* Still he took a step back with his hands up a bit, having played the hero on one attempt, he knew that only gave him an ass kicking.
"Look, I don't mind guys checking out a nice lady, but same goes for you. You two want to fight, you can do it outside. This is supposed to be a nice place for people to come, get away from the problems of the world. Especially now, with that
Clyde who decided to host the conference here."
Ric watched in stunned amazement as Soleil approached Vic and whispered something in his ear. The older man stepped back, obviously convinced that the girl could somehow handle this.
"Uncle Vic?" Ric leaned over, taking the other man's arm. "Are you nuts? That chick eats girls like Soleil for breakfast. We aren't going to just step back and leave her to get her ass kicked, are we?"
Ric felt his protective instincts flare to life, as Sol calmly walked up to the other woman and placed a hand on her sleeve covered arm.
"Miss, I don't think you want to be here right now," Sol told Pretty Poison. "This place is full of people just trying to have a good time. They aren't hurting anyone, and if you were to start some kind of trouble, well..."
Sol gave Pretty Poison's arm a good squeeze. "I might just have to take that to heart, you see?"
Pretty Poison pouted, turning her hot, angry gaze on the woman currently holding on to her. "I just want to have a good time too," she purred. "What's the harm in that?"
"Lily, please, let's just go," the young man with her interrupted. "We can find some other place to have a drink tonight. Let's leave these people alone."
The young man's voice was weary and Sol noticed a deep sadness in his eyes.
"She's not what she appears to be, my friend," Sol advised. "If you need help, just say so."
Vic watched the exchange with a bit of morbid curiosity. His agent hung out by the door, and Vic made a motion to him, one to call security. Long experience told him that he wanted these people gone, even if they didn't start fighting. "I have a much better idea," Vic improvised. "Let's all decide right now, rather than go outside and fight, sit down, have a few drinks, maybe play a few rounds of cards."
Sol turned her incredulous gaze on him. She noticed that Ric's expression mirrored her own. Before she could respond at all, though, Pretty Poison let loose with a delighted trill of laughter. She shook off Sol's arm and pushed by her, moving to stand directly beside Vic. "Aren't you...delightful," Lily said, taking hold of his arm. "I for one think a few drinks and a few rounds of cards sounds like just the thing. Scrapping with nubile young heroines gets old rather quickly. And I really am just looking for some fun. I'm not on the clock. Neither of us are, right Billy?"
The young man accompanying Pretty Poison was looking at Soleil when Lily spoke. He was apparently somewhat taken with the blonde. That made Lily furious, though she kept up the light tone. Her eyes glittered dangerously, all the same. She was jealous, and she took great pleasure in watching Billy flush as understanding bloomed in Soleil's face.
*He's one of them,* Sol thought, her face hardening. "Must have been the guy on the surfboard.*
Vic politely disengaged himself from Lily's arm, motioning to a table for the lot of them. "Well then, if you ladies would be kind enough to take a seat," he started, before moving in a position to turn away. "I will be back shortly with drinks and a pack of cards." *And the boys in blue* he thought but did not say.
Sol watched nervously as the group headed for the table Vic had indicated. She didn't know the older man well, but she had a feeling he wasn't just going for cards and drinks. "Excuse me," she muttered, following after him. She waited until they were out of earshot of the others, and then took his arm, stopping his forward motion. The crowds of people in the club had mostly returned to normal, although many of the men kept sighing and shooting wistful glances at Lily.
"Mr. Meranti," Sol was speaking low, so as not to be overheard, "I'm not sure what you've actually got planned, but anything you have in mind will probably end badly."
Vic smiled at the young woman, her concern was touching but they had enough problems as it was. "Hey, don't worry about it. I'm just getting drinks."
Sol snorted. "She's poison," she said, "and I don't mean that metaphorically. If you go and get security...or call the cops...or whatever...someone is going to get hurt. Someone is probably going to die, and I think she's killed enough today, don't you? Please, let's just try and get through this, and maybe in the meantime, you could sort of discreetly clear the place out. Once everyone is safe, I'll be glad to take her out. I've already done so once this morning."
"Have you seen the number of people in here?" Vic shot back. "You don't 'discreetly' clear this kind of place out, it's a full house tonight. I just don't want any trouble, and besides they've already been called - I signaled it to my manager earlier."
"Oh my God," Sol glanced over her shoulder at the table, where Lily was obviously trying to seduce Ric. *That's great. Just great.*
"Ok, plan B," she said to Vic. "She thinks she's God's gift, right, so let's use that. You get Ric to 'Pied Piper' her out of her and I'll take care of her once we're outside. Can you do that? Cause, I promise you, if the cops show up there's going to be a lot more trouble than you want around here. She's not going to go quietly. That one will stir up a ruckus. I guarantee it.”
Vic gave the girl one final look over. She was definitely that type: the meta with her powers, determined to make the world a better place one problem at a time. An idealist in a harsh world which wouldn’t accept failure. He had no doubt at all about what could happen if they got into another fight, especially in here. Nodding, he called over to the table, “Hey, Ric, come and give me a hand, won’t you?”
Ric excused himself politely, with Pretty Poison looking a little upset to see him leave, no doubt an act. *Crazy world* he thought. As the pair made their way to the bar to order drinks, Ric started, “Vic, have you gone insane or something? What are you planning?”
“I had Charlie give the boys in blue a buzz,” Vic said when they reached the bar, ordering up enough martinis for the lot of them and asking for a pack of cards. “So, we need some way to get that lovely lady outside of here. That’s you.”
“You aren’t really going to let Sol duke it out with her, are you?”
“When have my instincts about people been wrong?” Ric nodded; that was a good point. As the drinks were collected, and they were about to head back over, a man came moving through the crowd over to him. “Hey, Charlie. What’s up?”
“Bad news, Vic,” he said. “They said they would get someone over here as soon as possible, but from the sound of the guy on the line… I don’t think anyone’s coming.”
Vic rolled his eyes. “This night just keeps getting better and better. Thanks Charlie,” then to Ric, “Change of plan. We keep them calm, collected, we get Ms. Poison over there to drink until she passes out.”
Sol listened to Vic's plan and laughed out loud. "Do you really think that'll work?" she asked. "I mean for all we know she's immune or something."
Sol sighed, glancing nervously at Ric. She really didn't like the idea of sitting there while Pretty Poison draped herself all over him. But then again, what choice did she have either way.
"Maybe we should just play it by ear, you know?" Sol suggested finally. "Get her drinking, play some cards, and hope for the best. If she is bound and determined to cause trouble, I'll pick her up and bodily remove her if I have to. I promise, Vic, I won't let any harm come to your customers or your club."
"The customers come first," he pointed out to her sternly, with all the look of the father figure. *Jeez. It's like my daughter all over again.* He put on that big smile of his as they reached table again, putting down the drinks. As he spoke, he sat, opening up the pack of cards. "Sorry about the delays, I'll be your dealer this evening. The name of the game is Texas Hold 'Em. How much are we going to bet? You know, just to make it interesting."
Billy, aka Hardware, glanced nervously about the room, before turning back to the table. Coming here had been a worse than bad idea. The place was so crowded, and Lily was in a really nasty mood, mostly because she'd had her ass handed to her by that golden hero this morning. She'd spent most of the day in his "Hyper-healing Chamber."
Billy glanced at the pretty blonde girl as she settled herself in the seat between him and the old man. The younger guy, the one who Lily now had her eye on, was seated on the other side of the old guy, with Lily between him and Billy.
*Good luck, dude,* Billy thought, watching Lily lean over and place a glove covered hand on the younger guys arm. At least he'd managed to convince her that it would be a good idea to cover up. The way she'd been going before they left, he suspected she'd been of a mind to just stroll in and lay her poison touch on every guy in the place. Lily was definitely a psycho, but Billy had made it his self appointed duty to try and keep her in check. For some reason, Lily fancied him, and even though she made his skin crawl, he did his best to encourage her attention so that some other poor guy might be spared. He'd made a tactical error at the door, though. He saw that now. No matter how much he'd like to get to know someone like the pretty blonde that just wasn't in the cards for him. He worked for a team of Meta villains. Whatever the reason for that was, he wasn't going to ever be able to go out with a normal girl, and he didn't deserve to. If he only had the courage to walk away, even though it would probably cost him his life, at least then he'd know he'd done the right thing for the right reasons. He prayed every day that somewhere, somehow he might find that courage.
Sol sat stonily between Vic and the other guy with Pretty Poison, ...Will or Bill or Billy or something. She watched carefully as Pretty Poison worked on Ric. She waited with baited breath for the woman to turn up the pheromones. Then they'd all be in a world of trouble, and Sol would be all alone in trying to stop her.
"Be very careful," Sol whispered, leaning towards Vic. "She can...make you want her...despite how you might really feel. If she starts trying anything with Ric, one of us may have to intervene."
Vic nodded almost imperceptible at the reply, passing the cards around before putting them down. "Sol, your bet," Vic reported, looking at his two cards. Three of Clubs, Six of Diamonds.
At her blank expression, he put the cards down in front of him. "Opening bid. Player to the dealer's right starts off bidding."
Ric coughed. "That's the left you mean." He knew Vic had to be putting on an act; no way a man with his reputation for wine, women, song, and gambling didn't know something as simple as that.
"Right, I knew that," Vic reached for his drink. "I was just testing you is all."
"Sure you were, Vic."
Ric checked his cards. He held a Queen of Hearts and a Ten of Hearts. *Well, at least my power hasn’t failed me,* he thought. He studied the cards, while the woman to his left continued to stroke his arm through his sleeve. Soleil had been quite sure that the woman was dangerous, and Ric felt decidedly uncomfortable around her, especially since his body didn't seem to be connected to his brain anymore. As Lily leaned closer to him, he could smell her exotic scent and he felt like his brain was going on the fritz. She was so...hot...*I could just get up and walk out of here with her,* Ric thought, turning from the cards in his hand to gaze upon that lovely face. *That would save everyone. I could handle her. She likes me. And besides, my ‘luck’ is still with me*
Lily subtly amped up the pheromones and sent them directly to the man beside her. He was handsome, and judging from the watch on his wrist, very well off, despite him clothing. He also was interested in the blonde, as she was in him. That just made the game more fun. Lily wanted to punish the little do-gooder. She'd interfered in Lily's good time, and had the audacity to touch her. She'd taken quite enough abuse from that "golden cheerleader" this morning. She wasn't about to go down that easily
tonight, even if that little girl had a grip on her. Sure, these folks had seen her on the news this morning. That just made it all the more fun. The old guy was all nerves, and Lily wanted to laugh with delight as he put on his show. She was having the time of her life.
Lily glanced over at Billy as Ric made his bet. She narrowed her eyes at him. The fool kept glancing up at the blonde, who was sending him decidedly furious looks. He looked so hurt. *Idiot!" Lily thought. *She's not for the likes of you. Oh,no, Little Miss Innocent would barely give it up for the Captain of the Football Team. Besides, she's got the hots for tall, dark, and hottie over here. She is so not interested in all brains, very little brawn.*
Sol seethed, watching Lily cuddling up to Ric. A distinctly primitive light came into his eyes, and she knew they were in trouble, even as he made his wager.
"I'm in for five," Ric murmured, gazing longingly at Lily as he spoke. Lily giggled girlishly, glancing down at her cards. She had an Ace of Spades and a Four of Clubs. "Sure, I'll see that," she said huskily, glancing back up at Ric.
Billy was staring at Sol, wishing there were some way he could change things, or that he had the right to try and explain. She was so...pretty...so normal. He'd have given everything for one night with a girl like that.
Everyone else waited for Billy to bet.
Vic wanted to roll his eyes. Here they were, looking like a bunch of friends, and there was this underlying sense of wanting to beat the crap out of anyone. At least the patrons were safe, he wasn't about to let them be hurt. A quick glance at Ric and he could see that his attention was divided between the two women. Then there was Billy, looking at Sol. Nothing good could come from this. "Good lord, y'all look ready to go wait for the submarine races."
"Forget it," Vic waved them off at the questioning glances about the old slang. "Billy, you in?"
"Yeah.... yeah..." he stammered out.
Billy met the bet that was going around the table, and then set his cards down, keeping his eyes averted. His face was flushed a bright red.
Sol made her bet, almost feeling sorry for the awkward young man to her right. He was obviously very uncomfortable here. She couldn't forget though that he was one of the bad guys.
Billy could feel the heat coming off of Sol's body. The tiny table meant they were all pressed close together. He noticed that she had moved as close to Vic as possible. He reached out to grab his drink, hoping the alcohol would give him some courage,
He accidentally knocked over the glass, and the liquid headed straight for Sol's lap.
Soliel leaped up, grabbing her cards off the table. "Oh, great!" she shouted. She glared at Billy. "Nice going!"
Sol moved away from the table towards the bar, looking for something to clean her dress with.
When Soleil left the table, Ric decided that was the perfect time to make his move. He could get Lily out of the bar, without risking anyone else. He could be…alone with her. This was really the best plan.
“Look, Uncle Vic, I think the lady and I are gonna split,” Ric said, rising and taking hold of Lily’s arm. “Thanks.”
“Ric…” Vic started to protest, but Ric was already disappearing in the crowd. The other young man, Billy, rose too.
“He’s in…trouble…Mr. Meranti,” Billy wasn’t looking at Vic. His eyes followed Ric and Lily as they made their way out the door. “I better go after them.”
Vic nodded, turning to look for Soleil, who was standing by the bar, dabbing at her dress with a towel she’d dipped in club soda. When he turned back, Billy was gone. Vic felt bad for the kid, he was obviously mixed up in stuff he didn’t really want to have anything to do with. He was in way over his head, but he didn’t think there was any way out of it.
“Oh god!” Sol said, coming back to the empty table. “Where’d they go?”
Vic gestured vaguely towards the front door. “Ric took the doll and made for the exit. I didn’t get the chance to stop him. That other kid took off after them.”
“Great, just great,” Sol muttered. “I…I have to go too, Mr. Meranti. Sorry about all this.”
Sol didn’t wait for his reply. She just made a beeline for the exit, praying she wasn’t too late.
CROSSOVER SERIES ONE: NOVEMBER 16, 2003 TO MARCH 31, 2004
Washington DC
Saturday the 22nd November, 2003
12:15pm
*Stroooolling through the streets - slipping in and out - dum di dum di dooo - par-don me! Nice ass by the way - lum di hehehm… very nice indeed.* Lash’s gaze lingered on the passing hunk she’d just swanned past, winking suggestively as they turned around with a quizzical look on they're face. At the sight of her, they nearly tripped and quickly whipped their head back to watch where they were going, their pace quickening. Lash just smiled appreciatively and watched as he continued down the path.
After he’d disappeared from sight, Lash flipped open the wallet in her hand, slipped out the ID and retrieved the $400 contained inside, her grin widening. “Great body and generous! I should send him a thank you note.” Lash chuckled lightly to herself then noticed a tiny sparkling of light glint off something she couldn’t pick, hidden inside the wallet.
Turning the leather piece over in her hands, Lash peered in all the pockets, pulling them open, even tried to reassume the position which had reflected the suns light. It certainly hadn’t come off the zip: they’d been painted black. Then where?
*Uch! Forget it.* Lash shrugged and resumed her usual smile as she pocketed the wallet under her skin and continued on her way to wherever.
This was her day off. No spying on brain numbing political babble for her! No sir’ee. She was free of anything and everything from the moment she told William where to ‘shove’ it for the day.
Lash chuckled; he wasn’t one to argue with her when she assumed one of her ‘modes’.
*Hmm… * Running her gaze over the scattered pedestrians lining the streets path, Lash cautiously approached one, bowing her neck and dawning a pleasant smile on her face. “Excuse me, but I was just won…ndering if you suffer from Poleppass syndrome.” Lash mumbled off quietly to herself as the person gave her an appalled sneer - heaven forfend she should try communicating with them! - before turning up their nose and hurrying in the opposite direction.
She decided to try again. “Excuse me?”
“Uch!” Progress! She receive a similar look to before, but at least this time they didn’t walk away.
“Pardon me, but I was just wondering if you could help me?”
“Yeah! I’ve got a gun in me car. If ya like, I can even blast yer head off ya meself, ya freak!”
Tail swishing intolerably side, Lash forced composure on herself and continued in a pleasant tone. “OK, that’d be a ‘no’ then, wouldn’t it? Thanks for your kind help anyway….” she turned away and headed off, muttering. “…You waste of a human being.”
*Fine! Looks like I’ll just have to find the good jewellery stores, myself!*
CROSSOVER SERIES ONE: NOVEMBER 16, 2003 TO MARCH 31, 2004
November 20th
The Marriott Hotel
4:51 pm
“Miss, miss!” Tess was brought back to her body with a sudden jerk and looked around for a moment, disoriented.
She was outside the Marriott again, and the anxious face of Of. Williams was watching her only centimetres from hers. Gulping, she took a step back, blushing, she normally didn’t lose track of her own body like that.
The man noticed her eyes focusing on him and gave her a tight smile. “You have to move, miss! They are getting out!”
Tess looked at the hotel’s doors and saw that the agents were making space for the metas to come out. A semi circle was cleared around the entrance, although it was still heavily guarded. A quick look around told her that there were shooters posted in the nearby buildings too.
A second later the metas left the building, surrounded by the security bots that she had seen in the inside. The gargoyle like one walked menacingly in front, his face a mask of contempt. He seemed to be barely in control. The rest followed him, each using hostages as shields. However, neither of them seemed in the least concerned about the cops waiting outside. They walked out with confidence and purpose, just like they had walked in.
When they were in the middle of the wide lane Blondie signalled a cameraman to approach and started to talk as soon as he was taped. Tess tried to pay attention but was interrupted by of. Williams' words.
“Fools,” he said and at first she thought he was talking about the metas, but then followed his gaze and saw some SWAT agents moving stealthily behind the barrier. She exchanged a quick glance with the man and he nodded to her, *Take cover* sounded in her mind.
Blondie continued making his demands but she saw that the black bald one had noticed the agents moving. The climate in the street was so tense that it could be cut with a knife. Everybody was just too tense, and anything could make chaos break loose.
And it did. Someone shot at the metas group. Some trigger-happy cop, most probably and before Baldie could even attempt stop them, the security bots opened fire on the people surrounding them. She could see the look of frustration in his face before she hid behind her tree, curling down with her hands over her head.
The shooting and cries continued for some minutes. The glimpses she was getting from Wehali’s point of view clear enough about what was happening, and enough to keep her hidden until some of the noise subsided and the roar of a helicopter approached her ears.
Carefully she peeked from behind her tree and assessed the situation. The bots that remained standing were still guarding the metas and their hostages, who seemed completely unharmed, and a clearing big enough for the helicopter to land had been opened. They were already climbing onto it, always shielded by the hostages and followed by the winged one who closed the door and took off as soon as the helicopter did.
Tess sent Wehali behind them. She was confident the eagle would be back with the location the metas got to, either her or others of her kind would follow the helicopter if the trip proved too long and the information would reach her.
Then she looked around. After the metas departure, the security bots had dropped off as if disconnected, but the policemen who were still standing were disarming them, anyway. And they weren't many. She inhaled deeply when she looked at the casualties. The garden that surrounded the hotel was flooded with bodies, the green grass dyed red. Many were still alive, but many more already had the limpness of death.
Already the place was in a complete revolution. Paramedics taking charge, unharmed police officers helping their fallen partners, reporters and news crews racing through the garden. The sounds of ambulance sirens and helicopters coming to get the wounded sounded getting closer.
Tess started walking unsteadily towards the hotel, thinking about helping when she saw a cop sprawled not far from her. Running to him she saw that it was the meta officer. He was badly wounded from a shot to the chest, but he was still alive.
Kneeling to his side, she pressed her hands firmly to her wound to stop the bleeding while she cried to the nearby paramedics that she needed help, but his hand on her arm made her look at him again.
He shook his head with urgency, and the movement filled his mouth with blood. She knew he wouldn’t live long and he did too. He looked at her intently and an image flooded her mind with such force that her pressure on his chest lessened for a second. A mature man, wearing an elegant black tuxedo, his silver hair and gentle features looked familiar. *Julia’s father!!*
Surprised, she looked down to the meta, who smiled weakly and died in her arms, but the feeling of urgency and the need to contact Julia Meranti’s father remained. She closed the man’s eyes and let the paramedics that had arrived to care of the body.
CROSSOVER SERIES ONE: NOVEMBER 16, 2003 TO MARCH 31, 2004
November 22nd, 2003
Operation Scorpion HQ-Washington DC
8:29 PM
Operation Scorpion is part of Human’s First. This is a fact. But it’s how many people know about this fact that’s the bigger issue. Operation Scorpion was created by radical Human’s First members, and aside from those members, nobody in Human’s first was aware that Scorpion even existed, never mind that it was part of their organization.
If word ever got out about Scorpion, it would spell ruin for both Scorpion itself and human’s first. People were fickle. It was all right to hate meta’s—they were freaks after all. But hunting down and killing them was a completely different story. Even if people hated them, a story like this could swing public opinion against Human’s First in a second.
This is why Icarius, part of the intelligence sector of Operation Scorpion, thought it was quite bad when he discovered that he had lost the mini-CD he had been carrying in his wallet. Not because he liked mini-CD’s or anything like that. He thought it was probably a bad thing because on that CD has been information…files…detailing Operation Scorpions recent progress against the meta-human threat. The CD was to be delivered to one of the Human’s First members in the know…but of course it couldn’t be now. And somebody could have just discovered Operation Scorpion.
And—Surprise—Daedalous, the head of Scorpion, agreed! This was a particularly bad thing, indeed. So bad, in fact, that Icarius had been tied to a chair in a deep sub-section of the HQ, and was currently being questioned.
“I’ll ask you one more time,” Daedalous said with mock patience, “why did you take the CD with you when you went out?”
“I—I didn’t mean to.” Stammered Icarius. And this was the truth. He had completely forgotten he had put it in his wallet.
“You forgot.” Daedalous said. The room they, and several other Scorpion members, were in was dark except for a single hanging light that shone only on Icarius. “Well that’s fine. We all make mistakes.” He turned around to face the man, and walked towards him. He leaned down until he was only inches from Icarius’s face. “It’s fine until somebody find out about us and our entire operation was blown!”
*We shouldn’t let them go out* Daedalous turned back around and sighed an angry sigh. If it was up to him, all personnel would be kept up in the HQ 24/7. However these were people, and although most of them were dedicated to their job, they couldn’t stay there forever! People needed to live! Daedalous recognized this but made sure there extra security measures were taken to keep incidents like this from happening.
What had happened was that the security in charge of frisking and checking all Scorpion members leaving the HQ had messed up. The mini-CD had been hidden in a small black compartment in Icarius’s wallet. Icarius had been there for years and was a high official, and the security had grown to understand that he wasn’t about to give Scorpion up. Apparently Icarius’s (Icarius was not his real name, of course, but nobody knew his real one) parents had been killed by a Meta…this had led Scorpion to him. That combined with the fact that he was great at computers, hacking and information finding had led him to intelligence and he had worked his way up. Since he was so against Meta’s, security never thought he would do something to harm Operation Scorpion and so had stopped checking him so securely. This was okay, until something like this happened.
“Think back. When did you lose your wallet.”
Icarius thought with all his might. He had never been this scared in all his life. “Uh…I had in around noon…I used it when I paid for my lunch.” He blushed sheepishly. Something about him eating a nice lunch while he screwed up the entire operation sounded embarrassing to him. “I don’t remember seeing it after that.”
Daedalous was silent for a moment, and then said, “Helen.”
Icarius’s head rose in confusion. …Helen? Who was—but his thoughts were cut short as a woman stepped forward. The woman had short black hair, green eyes, and was wearing a Scorpion uniform. Icarius knew who she was—a security meta. Sometimes meta’s who were deemed useful were brain washed and given jobs, mostly on security. Most of them were psychics, which was probably what ‘Helen’ was.
“Helen,” Daedalous said in a gentle voice, “I want you to look back at what he did at approximately 12:00 PM today. I want you to look to see if he lost a wallet, or if somebody took his wallet.”
Helen nodded, and stepped towards Icarius. More than anything, Helen hated to use her powers. The fact that she was a Meta-human disgusted her. She would have given both her arms just to be normal…but she knew it was impossible. She thanked god that the kind members of Operation Scorpion had thought high enough of her sad existence to keep her alive and to give her a job!
Helen had been brainwashed…but of course she didn’t know that. All she knew was that Meta’s were bad, and she was bad.
Helen raised her hand and placed in on Icarius’s head, feeling the man shutter as she did so. Using her power, Helen’s eyes fluttered open and then rolled to the back of her head as she went into a trance. Helen’s power was the ability to read people’s memories…not just to read them, but to re-live what the person had done.
Helen was walking down a Washington Street. People were walking past her. She felt a small stirring on her left side…she turned and saw a Meta-human. The woman (If you could call her that) was cat-like. Her skin had a purple tone and she had a tail sticking out of her back. She turned away in disgust and kept walking.
Helen came back to her senses with a gasp. “I saw a Meta-human…she was cat-like and she was purple. She had a tail and large years…both of which were also purple.” She turned towards Daedalous and said, “I think she might have taken his wallet.”
With sudden realization, Icarius also remembered the Meta woman. “Oh…I remember her! I met her around noon on the street…” a look from Daedalous silenced him.
“Thank you Helen, you may go back to your regular duties now.” Daedalous said. Helen nodded, and left the room. Daedalous then turned to the other members in the room, and said, “Take care of him.” He then left the room.
It took a few minutes, but eventually Icarius stopped screaming.
***
9:45 PM
Agent Leksi entered Daedalous’s office. Next to Culexes, Leksi was the best agent there was. Leksi himself privately thought himself better than Culexes. Culexes after all was a Meta, even if people tried to ignore it. He thought it was idiotic to have a Meta as your top agent when the purpose of the organization was to stop Meta’s.
“Agent Leksi,” Daedalous said, putting down a file. “Please, come it and sit down.”
Leksi entered and did just that. Daedalous enjoyed talking to Leksi more than Culexes. Not only was Leksi a good agent, but also the fact that he had emotions, even if they were stunted, made him a livelier conversationalist, even if they rarely had a conversation. Daedalous lifted up a folder and passed it across the table to Leksi.
Leksi opened it and saw a picture of a woman who was clearly a Meta-human. The woman looked like an animal… a weasel or a cat or something like that, except her skin was mostly purple. It said her name was Zailash, although it was doubtful if that was her real name. Her powers were the ability to enter walls, as well as the obvious outward appearances and cat like reflexes.
“There was a major security breach today.” Daedalous began, taking a cigar out of his desk and lighting it. “It seems one of our intelligence heads lost an important CD containing information. This information could be disastrous to the entire Operation as well as Human’s First if it was ever looked at.” He blew a smoke ring, and then continued. “One of our security Meta’s was able to use her power to locate someone who might possible have it. That woman is the someone.”
Security Meta’s. Just as disgusting as Culexes. Once again they defeated the purpose of the Organization.
“Would you like me to track her down and find the Disc?” Leksi asked. He thought for a moment, and then added, “Or would you like me to find the disk and then kill her?”
Daedalous grinned. “More along the lines of the latter. We want her dead in case she’s already looked at the disc…and of course, the only good Meta is a dead Meta.”
Leksi grinned back. That was true enough.
“Try to find the Disc before you kill her, and if she doesn’t have it on her try and get information out of her. Then if she won’t say, kill her, and then search the place she’s staying at. If you still can’t find it, then we’ll have to look elsewhere.”
Leksi nodded. If he could find this disc then maybe he would be the top agent, and not that stinking Meta Culexes.
“You have your orders. Dismissed Agent Leksi.”
CROSSOVER SERIES ONE: NOVEMBER 16, 2003 TO MARCH 31, 2004
November 25th
“The Lounge”
1:00 am
It was very late. There was a 'closed' sign in the Lounge’s double door, but when she tried the big brass handle she saw that it wasn’t locked still. Dubious, she opened it a little and peeked inside. The place was almost empty. A couple of women were turning chairs over the tables and sweeping the floor and there was a pianist randomly playing some tunes in a corner. Apart from them, the only other people in the club were a group of men playing cards in a table near the bar. If they hadn’t been talking and laughing she would have spotted them anyway, from the rising rivulets of their cigars’ smoke. She saw Julia’s father among them, smiling with a cigar in his mouth, he was showing his game.
Tess smiled, and entered the club. One of the cleaning women raised her head and looked at her tiredly.
“We are closed, miss,” she said, “please come back tomorrow.”
The girl looked at her and then again at the group of men. “I’m here to see Mr. Meranti… No, I’m not a fan-” she started to say when she saw the woman sigh and open her mouth. “Can you tell him I’m a friend of his daughter’s? I have to talk to him.”
Vic enjoyed the chance to get to hang out with 'the guys' despite the events earlier in the day. Business had been more than a little slow, and everyone needed a chance to kick back, so they did like they always did: played and drank, all while telling stories. At the moment, he looked more dressed down than normal, tux jacket gone and bow tie undone but still hanging around his neck. "So then Frank walks in, and he doesn't know that he has stencilled across his back- excuse me a moment," he trailed off, catching sight of Tess and getting up.
Vic started over towards her, cigar perched between his fingers. He was a purely social smoker, rarely lighting up aside from times when he was with friends doing something like tonight. His voice was upbeat at seeing another familiar face.
"Hey, Tess!" he called. "It's been a while. Want to join the game? We've got space for another player."
Tess smiled warmly to the older man. She was relived of him recognizing her. To say that it had been a while was understating it, and even then only in passing. Julia Meranti had been her roommate in college, and Tess had met her father when he visited her in campus.
“Hello Mr. Meranti.” She said, and eyed to the group of cronies that were watching her with interest. “And no, thanks. I know better than to sit with you and your friends; I’d probably end up broken.” She sobered up and looked at him. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I needed to talk with you.”
"I'll have you know that I'm down Two-fifty to Charlie right now." The attempt at lightening the situation got polite but strained laughter. Vic rather casually pulled a couple of chairs off the tables, putting them down to offer Tess a seat. "I know that look - Julia gets the same one when something's wrong. Think it's a universal look among young people."
She had to laugh again at his attempts to make her feel better. The man was really something. She was too nervous; she looked at his cigar with hunger. Somehow he noticed and he offered it to her. Tess took it with a smile and inhaled deeply, the spiciness of it making her eyes tear, she kept the smoke in her lungs for a few seconds before releasing it. She never smoked these days, but she was nervous and old habits died hard. Her grandfather was a heavy smoker, and in most of Indian ceremonies she used to attend, cigars and smoke had an important role, although tobacco was not always involved.
Calmer, she gave him back the cigar and smiled at his surprised look. “Can you tell me why a dying man would direct me to you?”
Vic raised an eyebrow at that, he could think of several reasons offhand. Maybe a fun who died thinking of his music, maybe someone hallucinating... maybe someone in the Underground - the name used for a loose association of people who tried to get information to the various Metas who needed it. Heroes only need apply - but why would someone in the Underground send Tess to him? It made no sense. "Really hard to say off the top of my head, you know? You have any idea who it was?"
“Well, in fact I do. His name was Williams and he was a cop. He was shot at the Marriott attack.” Tess watched him closely to see how this news affected him, but Vic Meranti wasn’t easy to read.
Williams... the name came to mind right away. The guy had gotten some information from Vic on occasion to pass on to people, when it looked like they would be able to catch one of the bad guys who just happened to be a Meta. So why did he send Tess? "I'm sorry to hear that, he was a nice guy," Vic said, lowering his head. "How did it happen?"
“You mean the details?” At the older man’s nod, she told him.
“He was at the Marriott, set in the barrier to control the crowd, when those metas attacked the place. He got shot by the security bots in the blood bath that followed.” Tess shivered, images of the dead bodies too clear in her mind. “But, before he died he… told me to come see you.”
Vic cringed inwardly at the description. Here he thought that the images on the television were all he would get to hear about firsthand, too. "Jesus. Nobody should have to die like that. Too bad they don't know where the guys got to."
Tess looked away. Vic’s friends had resumed their game and seemed to be enjoying themselves, the pianist occupying Vic’s place in the table. They weren’t paying them any attention. She still wondered why the policeman had sent her to the singer but she could still feel the sense of urgency. However she doubted whether to tell him about Wehali and the house to where she had followed the metas. She looked back to him, remembering Julia was a meta and that her father accepted her as such.
“That’s true. Nobody should die like that…” She would take the risk. “But I know where they are.”
Vic raised an eyebrow, feeling a combination of surprise and elation. She knew! The Underground knew a couple of people around, if they could find out where the delegates were being held, they could make a rescue attempt.
"Really?" he couldn't keep the surprise from his voice. "Tess, that's wonderful news. Have you told anyone?" All he had to do now was to think of a way to ask her to tell him. *Great, Vic. Way to back yourself into a corner - and under no circumstances are you telling Julia*
“Mmm, no… Actually you are the first I tell.”
She breathed in; she needed to get things clear before going any further. She took a quick look around to make sure everybody else was minding their own business. “Mr. Meranti, I know about Julia’s… nature.” At his surprised look she went on. “We talked about everything in college, see? We have no secrets with each other… and I know you don’t mind her being a meta.” She looked at him as waiting for confirmation.
Vic blinked. Twice. Julia hadn't mentioned telling her anything, which meant that she had either told Tess or Tess guessed. Which meant that she might know about him, they did share the same healing ability. She had to suspect with the amount he drank and all.
But if they had no secrets, that meant that Julia must have told her about him. Vic glanced to the table before turning back to her. "Yeah, well... really, how can I do anything else? It would be like hating myself, wouldn't it?" Taking back the cigar, Vic took a quick puff on it. Best to get it out of the way then. "Alright then. You tell me where they are; I'll send work to the Underground. See which heroes are interested in a high profile move."
*Hating himself?* Tess repeated those words in her mind, not really paying attention to anything else after that. “You are a meta too?” she whispered, her eyes round with surprise. Then she almost laughed when the cigar in his mouth drop to the table. She took it quickly and after taking another puff she retrieved it to him. This was more than she had bargained for. But at least now she understood why the meta had sent her to him, if he was a meta himself. “Seems Julia didn’t tell me all her secrets after all.” She said and smiled at Vic, who, by the look of it, had already realized that he had given himself away. Then the rest of his words sank in. “Underground? What is that, some kind of meta organization?”
Vic looked like a fish, for the first time in his life, sitting there with his mouth agape. He'd been paranoid about keeping it under wraps, and now here he was, giving himself away. *Easy Vic. She won't tell.*
"No, no, I'm not," he said, knowing it wouldn't be believed. "The Underground... it was created in '48 by some Russian ex-patriots and holocaust survivors. Eventually became a loose association of people - there are metas who try to use their powers to help people. We're a small group, but we do what we can to keep them in touch. But, uh, don't tell anybody. Please."
She could tell that he was scared, and it was understandable. She’d been ready to tell him about her own nature and ended up discovering much more than she had expected. She thought she needed to appease him about her loyalties though.
“Don’t worry, Mr. Meranti. I won't tell. You see, Julia and I… Well, we were so open with each other because we shared more than a room, if you catch my drift-” She was interrupted by a cat jumping to her lap. She smiled and stroked the cat, then she looked up at him again. “Mrs. Norris says she’s hungry.” She said, not taking her eyes from his.
"More than a room? You mean Julia swings both ways?" Vic asked with that customary smile creeping back into his face. Tess was completely shocked for several long beats, then realised it was another of his jokes. He was completely amazed about the cat. Cats. They were fickle creatures, and Tess - was she communicating with it? "Ah well, don't worry about it. Just keep it under your hat is all I ask. If it gets out, my career is dead. So...."
“So, do I tell you were the metas went then?” she asked, smiling herself and shaking her head. She wouldn’t join his joke, the dirty old man, he had almost got her worried there. “But after I do it, I’d like to know more about that Underground of yours. Maybe they could help me with a problem I have… and I could be of help too. My ability can be quite useful, you know?”
"We don't run around trying to solve problems ourselves," Vic started. "You hear things and pass it on, that's what we do. We collect information from contacts on the streets, see that it gets where it needs to go. But yeah, if we've heard anything that can help you we'll be glad to pass it on."
“Fair enough.” She said, and started telling him about the house the eagle had found. She had followed the helicopter to its landing spot, where the metas had changed vehicles to a van and headed to the city again. From the eagle’s glimpses of memory, the van had entered Washington non molested and made it to a large house in the suburbs. They were still there, she had had the house watched ever since.
Vic nodded, making the various mental notes to himself. It would be a place easy enough for them to be able to track down, and could get out word to enough and the right people. Maybe something good could come from this after all. "Thanks, Tess. Anything we can do for you?"
Tess smiled, maybe something good could come from this after all. “Well, you can see if you hear from my brother.” She said, “His name is Sam Hawk, and he was kidnapped two years ago by men who said they were ‘government’ agents. I haven’t heard about him since. He is a precog.”
"I'll see what I can do," Vic promised. "Anything for a friend of Julia's - just, um, don't let her know about where those guys are?"
Tess smiled brightly. "I won’t, Mr. Meranti." she said.
CROSSOVER SERIES ONE: NOVEMBER 16, 2003 TO MARCH 31, 2004
Tuesday 25th November 2003 - 8:03PM
Mel and Ela had finished dinner in relative silence; Ela was obviously tired and still trying to digest Mel’s revelations about Sym. Thankfully that also seemed to distract her from the morning’s events. So Ela had headed to bed despite the early hour and Mel was left alone with her thoughts
Thoughts that returned unerringly to that morning not just her reaction to Pretty Poison but to the media circus the whole event had stirred up. Drake taking hostages had primed the ground and every newscast she’d watched had had an anti-meta bias. Even the most even handed commentators suggested that while Meta’s could obviously deal with their own, the non-meta majority needed to take steps to protect themselves from the fall-out such conflicts created.
Mel growled at the T.V. screen and suppressed an urge to blast it to ashes. *Goddamn it Are they wilfully blind?*
*No just frightened and people are feeding that fear.*
Mel sighed *I know it’s just* the worst of the commentator’s were equating Sol and herself with the original attackers, making no distinction between Mel’s actions and Mako’s what amazed Mel was that the Media could be so obviously biased
*Why do people swallow this crap*
*Please refer to my earlier comments*
*Not helping Sym!*
*Ok maybe not but what do you expect the anti-meta media were primed after that idiot Drake took hostages. They’re ready to pounce on the slightest misstep by Meta’s and no one is going to gainsay them.*
*Which is why you need me…*
*Which is why they need you. But you can’t keep hiding Mel and that means you need to start controlling the agenda.*
*We’ve discussed this Sym I don’t…*
*Don’t what? Don’t think he’s on the level of course not. I agree Observer will try to use us for his own ends but never the less he’ll give you the lever you need to start changing things. So long as you remember you have different agendas and remain as in control of your image as possible…*
*What? We might as well use him?*
*Yes* Sym’s frustration was becoming obvious. *Look I know international conspiracy trying to take over the world but you’re taking steps against that. James is an ally now; especially after what Ela did for Sydney, Sara is coming round she definitely seemed to have confided in James rather more easily. And don’t forget Soleil.*
*She’s just a girl*
*She’s a young woman who knows her mind and wants to help. You’re going to be the standard bearer Mel but you don’t have to do it alone. In fact if you try I’m pretty sure you’ll fail. Cultivate your allies and remember “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”*
*But…*
*You’ve already started down this road with the clones…*
*And this is exactly the reason why I didn’t want to compromise on that. We’re just getting sucked deeper into the mire.*
Mel watched yet another replay of the same footage from that morning listened to yet another fool spouting the same nonsense and sighed
“Alright”
***
In an unremarkable government building in the heart of Washington a government official was watching the same news show that Mel was. The door to his office opened and he reached for his remote and turned the sound down.
“So what do we have, Aaron?” Ford asked the younger man who walked in.
Aaron dropped a folder on the older man’s desk and settled into a chair.
“Those are the best shots we could get from the footage. Obviously not all of it was released to the press but no doubt someone on the Hill has got it and it’ll leak soon enough.”
Ford took out the photos and leafed through them as Aaron continued to speak
“The first Meta we’re confirming as Gabriel, the powers are a good match for her own description in the transcript of her meeting with Captain O’Malley. Plus we have good visuals both in Vegas and here. We don’t have a real name yet but the unique hair colour should make tracking her down pretty easy. We’ve requested security footage from the local airports. We should pin her down in the next few days at the latest. After that?” Aaron shrugged.
“The costumed Meta is Sundance a minor vigilante in the San Diego area, not as active with the local law enforcement as Gabriel but we’ve had our eye on her. We don’t have anything showing her changing into costume so no chance of an ID but maybe we’ll pick her up through Gabriel.”
“You think they know each other?” Aaron’s boss looked up from a picture of Sundance throwing Ela over her shoulder.
“Prior to this meeting? No probably not but active Meta’s are rare as I’m sure you’re aware…”
“Humph Shared worldview?”
“Something like that.”
“This third Meta” Ford tapped the picture of Ela as she healed Mel. “Do we know anything about her?”
Aaron frowned and shifted slightly. “Nothing concrete though from their actions on the tape we have I’d say She and Gabriel know each other but beyond the suggestion that she’s a healer of some sort; Emergency services suggested some of our survivors shouldn’t have survived without intervention of some kind but we have no idea who she is.”
“Well get someone on it she may be a wrinkle and I don’t like wrinkles.”
“Sir.”
Aaron stood and left the room as Ford returned to his TV and reached for the remote.
***
Shakti Miller watched the broadcast with a sense of satisfaction. The Quartet had performed exactly as advertised and even the intervention of the Concordat’s patsy hadn’t managed to change the outcome. Even better despite their initial capture the Quartet had shown sufficient ingenuity to manufacture their own escape. Yes, Shakti was very pleased with the day’s events.
*Humans hate so easily…* A few more nudges and their whole society would go up in flames and Shakti was preparing those nudges. Behind her a matte grey box whirred quietly a cable extruded from it’s casing connected it to the phone socket in the wall.
The machine hybrid turned her attention to the device and queried its status. She was looking for some particular information - the chemical composition of Mutaxin. Unfortunately despite the promises of numerous parts of this world’s crude data net so far she’d been unsuccessful. The compounds they had described were simple hallucinogens at best and we’re unlikely to have the effect she needed.
She directed the device to change its focus. These humans positively gloried in many and varied clandestine projects maybe somewhere someone was still researching the substance despite the world-wide ban. She’d start with the biotech companies. It was most likely they’d have an interest in the area after all despite nearly fifty rotations of their planet around it’s star these primitives hadn’t managed to discover the true origin of ‘Metahumans’.
Still she needed to be careful and she instructed her data-miner to take extra care. There were traces of other intelligent machines in the data-net; it wouldn’t do for them to discover her. Not too soon anyway. Shakti smiled in the dimly lit room at let her attention return to the flickering screen before her. Yes things were progressing nicely.
rescuing ric from pretty poison
***Tuesday, November 25, 2003 11 pm***
***Just outside The Lounge***
Ric led the woman out into the quiet street. There was a surprising lack of traffic, and the city was almost abnormally quiet. A part of Ric’s mind registered this, attributing it to all the trouble that had been going on in Washington over the last few days. People were hiding inside, trying to forget about it, just as Vic had said. Ric’s attention was on more important things, though. He couldn’t quite stop staring at the generous swell of this woman’s breasts beneath the tight black sweater she was wearing. It was in perfect contrast to the long, fitted white skirt, which hid her legs from view, but which sent Ric’s mind off on a lovely tangent, as he imagined taking her over to where he’d parked his convertible, setting her on the hood, and hiking all that white material up her legs, to reveal the pale, creamy skin underneath. He wondered if all of her was that same perfect alabaster tone.
Lily wanted to laugh in triumph. Just like all the others, this man was putty in her hands. She could see the dazed lust in his eyes. She placed her gloved hand on his shoulder, feeling the muscles bunch beneath her touch.
*Want…have to get her alone,* Ric thought, glancing about. A few men were coming up to the entrance of the club from the parking lot. The dark, quiet parking lot. *Perfect.*
Ric took Lily’s arm and strode towards the lot, not even hearing her tinkling laugh. There was only one thing he could think about.
Billy came out of the club just as Ric started to lead Lily away. He glanced about fearfully. A group of big, muscled men was just coming up to where Nic and Lily were walking. Billy started to follow, cringing when the group of men suddenly stopped.
“Hey, hey, boys, look at this here,” the tallest of the men said, suddenly stepping into Ric’s path. “That’s a fine lookin woman you got there, son. You sure you can handle her?”
Ric stopped, fuming. These men were keeping him from being alone with the woman. That was not going to work for him.
“Get out of the way,” Ric snarled, trying to steer past the three bigger men. They laughed, stepping into his path at every turn.
“I don’t think so, pretty boy,” the tall one said again. “I think maybe the lady would prefer to spend the evening with a real man.”
Ric growled, prepared to fight, even though these guys outweighed him considerably. He wasn’t about to let go of the prize he’d “lucked” into.
Sol ran straight into Billy when she finally got out of the club. Billy was standing just outside of the parking lot, watching Ric and three gorilla sized guys apparently having a pissing contest a few feet away. Ric had Lily tucked in behind him, and he was facing off against the guys.
“What the hell is going on?” Sol demanded, stepping around Billy. Billy grabbed her arm.
“They’re gonna fight over her,” he said. “Don’t get in the middle of it. Usually that’s enough to snap them out of it, and Lily doesn’t get the satisfaction she’s after.”
Sol spun around, glaring at Billy. “So what, Billy? Is this how you and your little girlfriend get your kicks? What’s in it for you? You get to watch or what?”
Billy flushed. “Look, she’s not my girlfriend,” he said.
Sol snorted. “Right you just work together. Right, whatever. Well, I think you should know Billy, I was there this morning,” Sol hissed. “I know exactly what kind of work you do, all four of you.”
Billy’s eyes widened in shock. This was the girl, the golden girl from this morning. He could see it now. “Shit,” Billy cursed, grabbing the girl’s arm when she turned away. “Look, really, don’t get in the middle. Someone’ll get really hurt. This will work itself out. They’ll forget about her when they’re done fighting amongst themselves. And Lily will get bored in about two seconds. This isn’t what she wants.”
Sol spun back around, furious. She ripped her arm out of Billy’s grip. “Don’t you touch me!” she snarled. “You are…despicable!”
“Right,” Billy held his hands up in submission. “Sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t touch you. I’m…one of the bad guys. I know that, okay? I just…I don’t want you to make this any worse. It’ll be over in a couple of minutes.”
Sol stared incredulously at Billy. He looked so…defeated. She’d never before met anyone who looked so lost. “I…No, I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I don’t know…we’ve never even met, and I don’t know why you do what you do, or even what it is exactly that you do. I shouldn’t take it out on you. I’m just…frustrated. I really don’t want to stand here while those idiots beat each other half to death.”
Billy glanced over her shoulder. “It doesn’t matter anymore now,” he said.
Sol turned around and saw Ric lying on the ground. The three other guys were standing around him, panting. Lily was sauntering Sol’s way, an annoyed look on her face.
“I’ll get her out of here now,” Billy said to Sol.
“Uhm…will you be okay?” Sol asked.
Billy nodded. “She won’t do that to me. Mako’d kill her and she’s scared to death of him.”
“Ok…uhm, Billy. If you’re sure…” Sol started to turn away.
“Wait,” Billy made a mad, impulsive decision. “I don’t even know your name. I think…maybe could you give me a call sometime. I might need your help…if you think…”
Sol smiled sadly. “Sure.”
Billy scribbled his number down and handed it to Sol. She tucked the piece of paper in her bag as she walked away, passing Lily just as the older woman reached Billy. She didn’t even look in Lily’s direction.
Sol wasn’t sure what Billy’s story was, but maybe she could help him. Maybe he would see the error of his ways if she talked with him. He just seemed so lonely, and that was something she understood all too well.
By the time Sol reached Ric in the parking lot, the Neanderthals who’d attacked him had wandered off. She bent down and took a good look at the damage. Ric lay on the ground, staring up sort of dazed.
“What happened?” he asked Sol as she helped him to his feet.
“You decided to wrestle those three gorillas for the slut,” Sol replied drolly. “Are you ok?”
Ric looked at her through his one good eye. His face was throbbing, and his other eye was rapidly swelling shut. He also ached where the men had kicked him in the ribs a couple of times. He could vaguely recall how gone he’d been over that woman though, and since Soleil had said she was poison, he guessed he was “lucky” that they’d shown up when he did.
*Sometimes my power really, really sucks,* Ric thought. “Actually, I’ve felt better. And I have no idea how I’m going to drive back to my place.”
Sol stared at the bright bruise swelling Ric’s cheek. He was clutching at his rib cage too. He had an excellent point. Sol checked her watch. It was well after 11, so Linda was probably long gone with Sol’s rental car. She didn’t have any way to get back to the hotel either. Maybe she could drive Ric and then catch a cab back.
“Ok, so where are your keys?” Sol asked, unable to hide her irritation.
Ric tried to smile charmingly at Soleil. Maybe then she wouldn’t seem quite so annoyed with him. Of course, his face hurt way too much for that.
“Uhm…” Ric reached into his pocket gingerly and handed the keys to Soleil. “Right here. My car’s the…red convertible.”
Sol took the keys, snorting. *The flashy red convertible,* she thought. *How fitting. That way his big, dumb head has plenty of room.*
“Come on then,” Sol bent down and wrapped Ric’s arm around her bare shoulders. Despite her annoyance, she felt a tingle of warmth at the touch of his skin on hers. *Get a hold of yourself, girl. He’s an idiot, and you don’t need that kind of involvement, no matter how hot he is.*
Sol guided Ric to the car, unlocked it and settled him in the passenger seat. She slid behind the wheel and started the engine. They sat in silence for a few moments.
“Where am I going?” Sol finally asked, turning her annoyed stare on Ric.
Ric had laid his head back on the headrest once he was seated in the car. His face was throbbing, his ribs ached, and he felt like a complete imbecile. *She’s right ticked off at me, too,* he thought, raising his head and looking at Soleil. She was seated behind the wheel of his car, her tight red dress riding up her thighs, and a very aggravated scowl marring her pretty face. Ric felt the raging hormones the dark haired woman had inspired start to stir to life once again. He had the sudden image of this golden blonde spread across his black silk bedspread.
“My place,” Ric replied, trying to quell his rising desire. “I’m staying at my parents’ townhouse.”
Ric quickly gave Sol directions to the building, and she noted as they made the drive in silence that his parents kept up a residence in Kalorama, a very affluent area of the city. *Guess his parents own more than a couple of ‘casinos’ in Vegas,* Sol thought to herself. She didn’t attempt to talk to Ric on the drive over.
Ric thought about trying to get Soleil to talk to him, but he really didn’t feel up to it. His head was spinning a bit, and he was feeling more than a little ill. He wasn’t used to having a gang of Neanderthals kick him repeatedly, or punch him for that matter. Instead of hurrying along the lecture he was sure to get when they arrived, Ric settled back and closed his eyes. He allowed his mind to wander, imagining how things might go if Soleil wasn’t totally infuriated with him. It was a much more pleasant way to spend the drive.
Finally, Soleil pulled up in front of Ric’s building. She glanced over. Ric had his eyes closed and for all she could tell, he was probably fast asleep. *Great. Just great,* she fumed, unstrapping her seat belt. “Uhm…Ric…Mr…oh, I don’t even know your last name,” she laid a hand on his shoulder and shook it gently. “Come on…Ric…we’re here.”
Ric felt Sol’s hand on his shoulder. He was in the middle of a very nice fantasy where she was gazing up at him in adoration. For a moment he considered just pretending to be unconscious. Maybe she’d just go away, and he could continue to enjoy the fantasy version of her.
“Ric!” Sol raised her voice slightly.
“Ok, ok, Sunshine, no need to shout,” Ric murmured, opening his eyes. Sol was leaning across the seat, her face close to his. Ric had to fight to keep from grabbing hold of her. “I’m up…I’m just feeling a bit…whoozy.”
Sol bit back the angry words on her tongue. She could see the weariness and pain in Ric’s eyes. He was obviously not lying about how he was feeling. Sol sighed. “Do you…do you need me to help you get inside?” she asked, hoping he’d say no.
Ric smiled a little. She didn’t exactly sound eager to help him at all. Still…he wasn’t quite ready to have her walk away. “Yes, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d really like some help,” he replied, speaking softly. No reason why he couldn’t play on that soft side she seemed to have.
“Alright,” Sol said, stepping out of the car. She moved around to the passenger door and opened it. She bent down and helped Ric out, letting him lean heavily on her as she set about locking the car up for the night.
“The door key is that silver one, third on the ring,” Ric said as they made their way up the walk to his front door.
Sol didn’t reply. She found the indicated key and unlocked the door, walking Ric inside. She closed the door behind them and helped him to get into the living room, setting him on the couch. She stepped away as soon as he was sitting, moving to stand across the room.
*He’s definitely cute…and loaded,* Sol thought, glancing around the elegantly appointed living room. She’s deposited Ric on a cream colored leather sofa, which matched the loveseat and two chairs in the room. There was art on the walls, vases and other artifacts scattered about the room, and a huge black fireplace on one wall with a thick, cream colored, plush rug before it, covering the black marble floor. *I just hope he’s not some sort of psycho, since I’m all alone here and no one I know is even aware of that.*
Ric sat on the sofa, watching Sol check out the place. *Now, she’ll start being nice to me,* he thought derisively.
“Well, if you’re ok,” Sol said, turning her attention back on Ric. “I guess I’ll just be going…”
Ric was surprised, and his face showed it. “You’re just going to leave?” he asked incredulously. “Just like that?”
“What did you expect?” Sol asked, bewildered. “Did you think maybe I’d stay around to help nurse your wounds?”
Sol snorted. “You’re the one who decided to wrestle a trio of gorillas over that cheap slut in the tight black sweater,” she said coldly. “I’m not about to waste my time feeling sorry for you. After all, I warned you, didn’t I?”
Ric was astonished. She was really annoyed with him. *Where does she come off, anyway? I had that all under control. I mean, my power was keeping me safe.*
*Course that’s how I ended up like this.*
“Look, Sunshine, whether or not I was interested in Ms. Dark and Dangerous, that’s no reason for you to be all hot under the collar,” Ric struggled to rise from the couch, ignoring the pain in his ribcage. “I was trying to help, you know. I got her out of the club, didn’t I?”
“Sure, but you should have waited for me,” Sol snapped. “I could’ve taken care of her, and you wouldn’t be suffering now. And you’re lucky, you know. If those goons hadn’t interfered, she’d have given you a real sweet kiss and you’d be dead now. I told you in the club, she’s poison.”
Ric felt his own anger growing. No one ever talked to him like this.
“Little you know,” he nearly shouted. “I was never in any danger!”
“What you think you could have handled her?” Sol ran her eyes over Ric’s body, obviously doubtful.
“I knew it would work out,” he replied. “It always does for me.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Sol thought he was nuts. “You think you’re always that lucky or something?”
“I don’t think anything,” Ric shouted. “I know! I am that lucky! I’m a meta…that’s my power.”
Sol stopped, stunned. So, that’s why he was so damn cocksure. Still….
“Well, it was still a stupid thing to do,” she said, recovering her annoyance. “You wouldn’t have gotten your butt kicked if you’d just let me handle things.”
“Is that how things usually go for you?” Ric asked, moving across the room to stand directly in front of her. “People just automatically do what you want? I’m not your flunky, you know, and no matter how hot you are, I’m not about to just roll over at your command. I told you, I had it all under control.”
Ric was standing close, shouting down at Soleil. She was totally furious. The guy was completely full of himself. “You…you…you’re an arrogant ass!” she yelled. “Do you know that?! Luck or not, you’re an idiot!”
“And you’re a control freak or something,” Ric retorted. “Why are you so mad anyway? Just cause I stole your glory?”
“Glory?!” Sol sputtered. “Glory? This isn’t about glory. I try day in and day out to make sure people like Pretty Poison can’t take advantage of poor saps with no defense, and then you go off half cocked, on some sort of hormonal rush, and you want me to thank you or something. Well, I’ve got news for you, Dude, you are not that good looking. Maybe I would have gone for you earlier, but now…”
Ric stood still, listening to Sol’s tirade, and watching her. She was all fired up, her eyes bright burning blue, and her skin flushed. She was breathing hard, and her body heat enveloped him, they’d moved so close together. He heard her say she’d have gone for him, and suddenly he was a goner. Without thinking about it, he reached out, grabbed hold of her by the shoulders and brought his mouth down on hers in mid word.
Sol didn’t know how to react at first. She was so…frustrated. Guys like Ric were nearly as bad as Mako and his cronies. They thought it was all a game, that there was something cool or somehow fun about fighting crime. They had the wrong attitude and that alienated normal people nearly as much as the meta criminals did. She was yelling at Ric, furious, and admittedly concerned, and then suddenly he was kissing her…well.
Ric felt Sol resist at first, but he was way too caught up in the kiss to just give up, unless she pushed him away, and she wasn’t doing that yet. He held onto her by the shoulders, his grip firm, as he slanted his mouth over hers, flicking his tongue out to trace the line of her mouth. She stopped struggling nearly immediately, sinking into the kiss. Sol met Ric’s questing tongue with her own, as her anger burned out and passion flared hotly within her.
Ric and Sol battled, lips and tongues sliding one into the other as they clung together in the middle of the quiet room. Finally, he pulled back, but his hands had dropped down to her arms, and he pulled her tight against his body as he fought for both breath and control.
Sol struggled to catch her breath, panting raggedly. She was pressed tightly against Ric, in his embrace, and she didn’t quite understand what had just happened, but a part of her desperately hoped it would happen again…soon.
“Well,” Ric finally said, his voice hoarse.
“Yes, well…uhm…well…Wow,” Sol agreed, laughing softly.
“You done yelling at me then?” Ric asked, teasing.
“I don’t know,” Sol countered. “If I yell again, will you kiss me some more?”
Ric laughed out loud. “You don’t have to yell,” he replied, pulling back to look down at her upturned face. Sol was smiling up at him, brightly, and he was lost all over again. His voice dropped to a seductive growl. “I think I could be persuaded to kiss you again, now, or anytime you like. Just smile at me like that some more, Sunshine.”
Sol blushed, but made no move to get away from him or his obvious interest. Ric arched an eyebrow, then brought one hand up to tangle in Sol’s golden curls, and lowered his mouth to hers once more.
Sol couldn’t think about anything but Ric, his mouth, his hands, what his body was doing to hers, pressed so close. She didn’t want to think about anything else. This was what had drawn her to him back at The Lounge, before the whole mess with Pretty Poison. He was really nice to look at, but it was more than that. She felt this…spark when he touched her, and she really liked it.
Ric continued to kiss and touch Sol, slowly backing her up until he felt her knees hit the sofa. Deftly, with obvious experience, he maneuvered their bodies until they were spread out on the sofa, limbs intertwined. Sol was totally caught up in him, as he was in her.
Sol was enjoying the kissing, and everything that went with it, until she felt Ric’s hand slipping up her thigh, under the hem of her dress. She stiffened then, coming back to her senses. Sol pushed Ric away, and he resisted at first, but when he became aware she wasn’t into it anymore, he pulled back, looking down at her, his eyes smoldering.
“What’s wrong, Sunshine?” Ric drawled, already sure of where this was all going. He’d never been refused before, so he didn’t imagine that his luck was about to run out now.
“I…I…we have to stop,” Sol replied, trying to slide out from under Ric’s body.
“Stop?” Ric smiled leisurely. She was like Amber, and Kim, two girls he’d known back in high school. They’d needed to be ‘convinced’ as well. “I don’t think you really want to stop, now do you?”
Sol sighed. As nice as kissing Ric had been, she still barely knew him, and she wasn’t about to let herself get carried away. She wasn’t ready to jump into bed with this guy, even if part of her was wailing in despair. “No, Ric, I really mean it,” she said. “I don’t know you, at all. I’m not going to sleep with you. I got…caught up in whatever…I’m not like that.”
Ric was astounded. He’d never had a girl say no and mean it, not since he was 16 and Mrs. Walters invited him into her suite while her husband was playing poker in the high rollers room two floors below. He didn’t know what to say…or think, but he found himself even more drawn to Soleil.
Ric tried to look cool as he slowly moved off of the woman, smiling nonchalantly. “Ok, Sunshine, sure, no problem,” he said. “Sorry about that. I just misunderstood.”
Sol nodded, a bit miffed that he was acting so…unconcerned. *Guess he wasn’t really that into it, after all,* she thought. *Not that I’d know, as I was out of my head there for awhile.*
“Ok, well…” Sol glanced around, suddenly very uncomfortable. “I guess…I’ll go…then. Uhm, thanks.”
Sol turned and started to leave the room.
*Damn!* Ric thought quickly. *She’s just gonna take off. Good job, Cassanova. Now what?*
“Wait!” Ric grabbed Sol’s hand, thrilling at the tingling spark that raced up his spine when he touched her.
Sol turned back to him, her confusion apparent on her face.
“Uh…don’t…I want…” Ric stammered. “Damn, could you stay? Please?”
Ric looked down at the floor for a moment, obviously struggling. “I just…maybe you could help me get cleaned up and…we could talk. Just talk. I promise not to do anything you don’t want me to. I just…I like you, Sunshine, and I don’t want you to just saunter out of my life here. Give me a chance to show you I’m not an arrogant jerk. Please?”
Sol listened to Ric’s honest plea, and she felt herself softening right away. He obviously was used to things going a certain way for him, and since he claimed luck was his power, that wasn’t all that surprising. She knew she should say no, and walk away, but she just couldn’t. She’d been so lonely just this morning, and here before her was another potential friend, someone who would understand the doubts and fears she felt ever day. She just couldn’t walk away from that.
“Ok, sure,” Sol smiled brightly at him once again. “First, let’s get you cleaned up, and you can tell me all about your luck while I clean up those cuts and put some ice on your face.”
Sol stopped, then grinning cheekily, added, “And maybe, if we can restrain ourselves, we could try some more of that kissing later…Maybe.”
CROSSOVER SERIES ONE: NOVEMBER 16, 2003 TO MARCH 31, 2004
Wednesday, 26th November 2003 13:35
Washington D.C.
The morning had passed in a pleasant dose for Mel, in direct contrast to the night. She hadn't sleep well tormented by dreams that seemed to slip from her before she could remember what had awoken her. So when the sun had crested the horizon that morning instead of heading out for her usual run she had simple lay abed Alternatively trying to recall what had tormented her through the night and drifting off into a sleepy doze.
Fortunately Ela had also slept late obviously tired by the previous day's activities so Mel's indolence had for once gone unremarked. Eventually rising and having realised they'd missed breakfast Mel ordered room serivce and got changed into her running gear. After eating a quick meal she'd left the rest for Ela and gone out hoping that the crisp morning air would chase the last of her night away.
When se returned Mel found the food gone and the phone missing from it's usual spot. She smiled, shook her head at the incipient bill and headed for the shower.
They took Stanley’s car to the hotel this time, to try to blend into the crowds. Sara had been rather excited early that morning when they finally told her that her body was up and running after a fashion, though there were some problems with the arms. They would have to finish repairs later, she decided. If for nothing else than a chance to shut up Stanley.
He’d spent the better part of the morning complaining about yesterday’s attack, trying to put spin and apply pressure, but a few comments here and there – it ended with his bellowing, “Damnit, I need my heroine!” Which led to the point where they were now, walking back into the hotel. “Now when we get there, you let me do the talking,” Stanley was in the middle of saying.
Sara did not turn to him, instead walking ahead. “You? I’m the one she’s been in contact with.”
“And I’m the one she would be working with.” Stanley stopped, shaking his head when they stopped outside the door. “Just let me try to convince her, ok?” Before she could answer, Stanley reached over to knock.
Mel looked at the door as she walked out of her room wrapped in a robe. A quick glance confirmed the phone was still in use so Mel doubted it was Soleil. Which left two possibilites. Sara and her associates or the police. Mel glanced down neither of which she wanted to meet in a robe. "Just a minute" she called as Mel head back into her room to get changed.
A remarkably short period of time later Mel stood on the inside of her door and peered through the spyhole. *Ok Sara I can deal with Sarah but who's the new guy? Another conspirator?*
Mel opened the door with a calm fake smile on her face.
"Hello Sarah. So nice of you to drop by."
“Hello, Melissa,” replied Sara evenly, wondering why in the world Melissa would be smiling. That was supposed to be a sign of joy or happiness and none of the evidence suggested she would be happy to see them. “I would like you to meet Stanley Tucker, of Paradox Studios.”
Stanley looked excited, though professional and his smile was genuine. Ok so she was tall and attractive, that helped, with the right wardrobe people men would be lining up to be rejected by her. “Hi,” he offered his hand to shake, then dropped it when she didn’t take it. “It’s always a pleasure to meet a nice lady. Can I talk to you in private for a bit? We have this production coming up and you would be perfect for the role, from what I’ve heard.”
Mel pretty much ignored Mr Tucker for the moment and simplky looked at Sara. "Stanley Tucker? Well that's quite a coup. I take it Mr Tucker is your media guy and thinks he'll be telling me what to do and how to act?" Before either of her guest could react to that comment Mel turned away and settled down on the sofa "Why don't you come in"
Stanley’s mouth remained open in shock at the rather blatant outing of his position, Sara passing into the hotel wordlessly. After a moment the producer followed, hearing the door shut with finality behind him. Ok so she was definitely intelligent, that was good. “Let me be perfectly honest with you,” he started, ignoring Mel’s smirk at that. “When Observer told me about you, and I saw the information we could find, you are perfect for what we need.
“You’re attractive, personable. Great hair that says `look at me, I’m different` You already have everything you need to be a big media hero, and as for telling you what to do and act – have you ever been in film?” He didn’t give her the chance to reply, instead barreling on with his spiel. “It’s a collaboration, always. Just think, you can make your own hours, you get to increase the image of Metas, a cut of the merchandising rights-“
"And see we already have a problem. Why would I want merchandising. No If anything your lawyers are going to be very busy making sure no one makes a dime off my image." This conversation was going to be all about control. Who had had it and who could keep it. Stanley was no doubt used to divas - people who made petty demands to prove how powerful they were but the demands were petty because they didn't change anything.
Mel intended to change things.
For twice in one day, Stanley’s thoughts were almost derailed mid-thought. *I go outside of Hollywood for this? Oh well, she’ll come around eventually, they always do. Especially when they see the first profit projections.* “Look, it’s an image buisness. You get to the point of being popular, someone’s going to want to make money off of your image, so it might as well be you.”
Stanley shrugged his shoulders. “Ah well, you don’t have to make a decision on merchandising right now. Just consider it, that’s all I ask, ok? There’s a lot we can do with it in terms of popular image, and a retirement fund is always nice, isn’t it?”
"I think we need to clear a few things up. Mr Tucker what do I do for a living? I play poker for a living. I also play the stock market. I made money in a falling market. There are less than a dozen fund managers in the states that managed that trick.
My personal portfolio would open the door to the fast track in any investment house on Wall Street. Wealth does not motivate me." Ok So maybe not every investment house but with her education plus her experience most would employ her at least.
Stanley dropped the angle, realizing that it really wouldn’t be productive for him to persue. Though it seemed strange – the glamour, the excitement normally attracted people. Then he glared at Sara when she spoke up.
“Would you be willing to do it for Metas?” she asked, being aware of Mel’s personality and wondering if she really was interested in doing the `right thing` as she didn’t seem the sort to abandon them to their fate. “Some of our opponents want to you exterminated, so you will need public opinion on your side to prevent them from having the political muscle to carry it out.”
"Ah somebody said something intelligent. Yes I'm aware that their are lots of people quite willing to plunge the knife into my back. Which is one reason I don't want to hand them another by appearing to get rich off my image. This is an argument we need to actually win as opposed to just look good having."
Stan nodded at that, well aware of the problems that could arise. It was going to be a lot of fun to do this, even though he could never tell the story to anyone. But that wasn’t important, it was the pleasure of a job well done. “Right then, no merchandising it is, we can even set up something later to let you challenge that-“
“Stanley,” Sara interrupted. “Could you please get her to agree to work with you before you start scripting everything?”
“Right, right, and she needs an image before she can appear to get rich off it,” Stanley’s mind was working full time, trying to figure out exactly what they could do, before turning to Melissa. She was different from the people he normally worked with, they were normally highly mercenary and here was an idealist. Which meant… “How far are you willing to go to help Metas?”
"I won't compromise my ethics for the cause. The ends do not justify the means." Not entirely true but she might as well start off on the right foot.
*You realise your high minded idealism could get your entire species wiped out*
*Yes*
"These are the rules Mr Tucker. We will win this argument on substance. Your job is to make sure I have the image necessary to make people listen. I won't tolerate lies half truths and deceptions so be very careful whenever you put me in front of a camera I’m likely to be brutally honest. To the point of self destruction."
Honest was emphatically not his strong suit, Stanley knew. It meant that what sometimes became the easiest way to create a needed event – doing everything `in house` - was out. But that could still be doable, all that was needed was the placement of a camera here and there, finding just the right witness to interview… “That should be doable, I would think. Now all we need to do is – it’s unconnected.”
Stanley smiled, clapping his hands together before reaching for his phone. “It’s unconnected, why didn’t I think of that earlier? If anyone needs me, I’ll be in the car, I have a phone call to make.” He slipped out of the hotel room before anyone could say anything, on the way out going, “Woo hoo! It’s unconnected.”
“No, I don’t know what he was talking about either,” Sara admitted when he left, anticipating the question.
"Oh... Look Sara there are other things he needs to know I won't hide who I am of my past. People need to see Meta's as just another person. One of them not some shining knight. Don't try and make me into a paragon of virtue. I'm just an ordinary woman with some extraordinary gifts doing the best I can." Mel suddenly smirked. "How's that for a soundbite."
"Was there anything else?"
Sara paused for a moment before answering, of course there were other things. Mostly confusion at humans, it was no wonder there was an entire discipline devoted to how they think as it was a quite fascinating subject. Which was when she remembered the first time that Observer made the offer. "Yes, I'm just wondering what made you change your mind? You were against all of this at first."
“Things change Sara. Circumstances alter. We find things out that shift the paradigm. This needs doing and it's easier to do this with your help than without. So I'll make a deal with the devil knowing that at some point I'll have to break it and hoping that the cost isn't too great. And there's the first compromise. The first good intention on the road to hell."
Mel looked at Sara and wondered if telling her what was coming would change things. Would that oh so logical mind find another way or would she like Ela had last night conclude that there was the distinct possibility that she was insane.
Sara was more than a little surprised to hear this. Mel knew his power, and was not only willing to double cross Observer, but she had just told the artificial intelligence who worked closest with him this. Had she chosen to relay this information, Observer would probably just have her eliminated. The woman was either suicidal or a genius. "I really do not understand humans. Can I ask you for a bit of advice?"
Mel nodded, a sign of affirmation, and she went on. "Suppose that someone wanted to try to get more direct empirical evidence of human behaviour. What do you think would be the best level to observe this under conditions which will allow them to act as they normally would?"
"Actually I was suggesting living as close to a human life as possible but gatherings works"
*You know where this is leading?*
*Yes and? We need allies remember? Assuming Observer doesn't kill us in the next few days for having the temerity to think about double crossing us then we're a little closer to converting her. So we take her out and show her humanity*
*I just think you're a suckie for a good looking A.I.*
Sara still had access to some of the descriptions of places that Observer gave to her, but she was willing to bet that they were woefully inadequate and may very well be wrong in a number of places. And now for some reason Mel might have been looking annoyed. “Well, thank you for that advice. I’m sorry if I disturbed you but Observer’s files on human society seem a bit off in places and contradictory. For instance, why if humans are so big on power and order, would you have a nightclub which he describes as `an outlet for the release of uncontrolled emotional energy?`” At least Sara was happy now, this was her area, some form of hypothesis testing.
Trying to ignore the surge of anger Sym's comment had elicited Mel smiled again at Sara "Well most of us don't wonder around thinking how to gain power. We leave that to the politicians. A night club's about having a good time It's a place to forget about the hardships of daily life and just kick back and relax. What's he say about art galleries?"
Sara searched her files. Art galleries, art galleries. "`A repository for works of cultural importance, with a possible function of awing the masses and the celebration of a triumph.`" She considered the way that Mel described the nightclub, it seemed much more supported by Vic's account than Observer's. Maybe if she could specluate on Vic's account... "Let me guess, you view it as a place to go to enjoy looking at treasures of cultural importance?"
"Pretty much. He really has a very narrow view of the world. Somehow I don't see impressionistic renderings of waterlilies as likely to inspire awe, well not the sort of awe Observer's talking about, and they don't celebrate a triumphic victory over the forces of flora either."
*Oh no! You're not serious?!*
"What are clothes about?"
"Normally a symbol of either position or authority for external function, also serving as protection against the elements - I had to reccomend an element of sexual selection being likely to be included for evolutionary purposes." Sara stopped, in this area at least she'd formed more of her own opinions from talking to William. "I've actually had more experience here, and think that the sexual element is likely to be primary, with an inclusion of indication of social status included in them." *Now this is point where she says `You wear whatever makes you happy.`*
"Yeah pretty much. It's about social status, inclusion in a group and yes sex too though that depends on circumstance. It's an outward display of who you are. Clothes maketh the man and all that." Mel went and retrieved a bottle of water from the fridge
"You know we've just gone over three different topics and he's been wrong in some way or other on all three and considering one of those was art..."
Only the lack of some of Observer’s analysis, she thought, was due to his not taking species survival considerations into account. Sara had waited for Mel to complete the thought when she realized that this was something her limited experience taught her about human social rituals, one was often supposed to complete a thought.
“Does art have some special evolutionary purpose as well which I have failed to take account of?”
"No and that's the point. In the past it was about power and patronage but now... Look Sara I'm probably the last person to talk aboui these things I majored in Mathematics with a little economics and astronomy thrown in. The arts weren't big on my list of prefered subjects but people create because it's something they're driven to do The mechanisms that decided if what they create is worthwhile change and that may be a function of society but the artist? They create because what they are won't let them be anything else"
Sara was easily becoming more confused than ever, but it was becoming clear that she had her work cut out for her. The sooner she could find a time to go to one of these 'gatherings' the better. "I shall have to take that under consideration, and appear to have a lot of research ahead of me. Do you have any particular recomendation on where the best place to start is?" Where better to get advice on how to reach humans than a human?
"Hmmm now if we were in Vegas I could suggest a couple of clubs but in Washington" Mel shrugged then smiled as a thought struck her, walking over to her jacket she pulled out her cellphone and hit the speed dial.
*Mmmmm*
"Hiya Nic. Busy? I thought we could hit the town tonight. Have a little fun. Great! Uh Any suggestions where? Uh-huh Ok See you at 8?"
Mel hung up with a smile turning back to Sara she grabbed a piece of paper and wrote down the name and address. "There you go one night club"
“Thank you, I may just check that out,” Sara said, taking it. There were far too many questions in her mind than there were answers. Humans specialised in being confusing.
Before she could say anything else, Stanley appeared in the doorway again. “This is the last time I try to help Joss solve a plot related problem,” he grumbled, moving around to shut the door. Suddenly alone with Sara and Mel again, he smiled before clasping his hands together. “Right now, where were we?”
Stanley sat down in a chair, crossing a leg. “I think Mel was just laying down some ‘rules’ for you to follow,” Sara reminded him.
A sudden look of comprehension came across his face. “Oh, right, right.” Comprehension turned now, for once, to seriousness, with his earlier joviality gone. “Ok, I can respect your views and now it’s my turn to be brutally honest. First thing you need is an event, something to get your name out in the papers in a big way. Now we’re fortunate in that we’ve learned Morgan will be leading the SWAT team after ‘Drake’ and his supporters, so we’ll probably have to find something else.
“But the details can wait,” Stanley leaned back, relaxing some in the chair. It was cooking. “For right now, I have a few guidelines for you. First of all, you are not working for Observer, you are working for me – this is my picture. He gives you any problems, you come to me. Second, if you go public, clear your interviews with me, that will let me steer you towards the members of the media with the best chance of giving you a good image.”
Stanely stopped for a moment, to watched Mel’s reaction. She had the perfect poker face, he thought, revealing nothing. “Now, there is one final thing,” he started, cutting her off as she started to speak. “And this is the last one, then I’ll shut up, I promise you. This is that you let me help plan your major moves – if you don’t want to fake it, fine, but I can still tell you what you need to do, coach you on how to handle the media, and things like that. Let me let you in on a secret right now, the media is a beauty contest. It’s all about having the best story that will draw the most viewers or sell the most papers. You can be a pillar of moral virtue, but if you can’t sell papers or draw viewers you’re nobody.”
“Don’t promise what you can’t deliver Stanley and I don’t work for you; this isn’t your film. I’ll have an image whatever you do. You’re job is to advise me as to how to make the best of the image I will have. I’ll listen to your advice but you don’t get to tell me what to do and if you go behind my back you better have Observer backing you up.”
He’d done that very well, a strategic withdrawal then after Sara had distracted her he’d returned and immediately attempted to recover lost ground. Offering to be her ally against Observer while at the same time he sought to reverse who had control of the situation. Mel knew she’d have to watch him, today were just the opening skirmishes of what would be a very long war.
*The hoover dam thing involved our ‘Agent’ right?*
*Definitely. Those beams were from a Bakarran energy pistol.*
*Well let’s see if our allies can help us find them then.*
Ignoring the still slightly shocked Stanley Mel returned her attention to Sara. “The Hoover Dam incident. Do you know who orchestrated it?”
Sara worked to access the files, wondering if there wasn’t some quicker way to convey the information. It was partly what had been reported before, partly information uncovered later. Observer grudgingly released the information after they conversed briefly, causing Sara to even momentarily lose her connection with her body. When she came to, she noticed the concerned look of Mel and Stanley. “I’m sorry, it’s just exhaustion,” she gave the answer Stanley coached her on.
“A terrorist group named Earthrage,” she reported back. “They’re one of those groups who appear to believe that humans are a plague that needs to be eliminated. The bomb they used was obtained from a person named Shakti Miller, who was reportedly at the damn as well and the sole survivor of the terrorists.”
“Of course, officially there were none,” Stanley explained. “That’s the problem with these extremist groups, always fighting to their own destruction. Of course, we couldn’t let the truth get out. Could you imagine the panic if it did?” He beamed with pride at the recollection of the story there, it had been some of his best work.
“We don’t know much more than that – Earthrage uses a cell structure – but we do know that it’s possible one of them is operating here.”
“So instead we convince the public as well as a couple of intelligence agencies that the woman who stole a nuclear weapon and then smuggled it on to the U.S. mainland is no longer a threat. Nothing like giving people a false sense of security.” Mel smiled tightly at Stanley’s momentarily nonplussed expression.
“Is Miller a Metahuman? There were energy blasts at the damn.” Mel didn’t think they would know one way or the other but she couldn’t just tell them to go looking for alien weapons floating around the black market it would reveal a level of knowledge that for now she wanted to conceal.
It was Stanley who answered Mel first, before Sara had a chance to – something that told Sara he had been filled in on the situation more than she expected. “It’s certainly possible she is. That matter is still under investigation.” He shut up then, and Sara realised that it was probably all he was willing to reveal.
Sara supposed that Mel had some desire to find Miller for some reason, something that she was not saying. Perhaps related to the damn, perhaps not. “We’re following up several possible leads. Nothing solid yet, however.”
“I had Observer contact me on the way back in – you know, that man has no respect for art,” Stanley suddenly digressed. “I mean there I am, trying to help Joss solve a problem with the pilot for this new show, and Fearless Leader decides to butt in. Just cuts out the conversation because `nothing important` was being discussed-“
“Stan…”
“-I mean, can you believe the nerve of him? What?” A look of clarity came over Stan’s face as he realised that he’d started digressing. “Oh, right, right. It was about that new encryption thing. It’s connected to Earthrage, no other progress as yet.”
*If it is a Bakkaran encryption regime it'll drive Observer nuts. We have trouble breaking those. Still this is looking worse and worse. This conference is a prime target for her and if she has a cell operating in the city we need to find out.*
*And you can't help can you?*
*Not really look even if we gave Observer the mathematics behind Shakti's codes it's unlikely to help him break them any quicker. And you may have majored in Mathematics but they are going to wonder how you came up with a major advance in an esoteric field unrelated to your own specialisation.*
*Not even a hint?*
*Anything meaningful would raise suspicions. Your call...*
*You're right*
Mel hoped her conversation with Sym had gone unnoticed or if not had been dismissed as her being deep in thought." Well I'm sure Observer is more than capable of dealing with the issue. However once this little crisis in Washington is over lets see if we can shake something loose. I doubt she's stopped after one attempt and if she has the guts to steal a nuke we can be sure she'll be up to something major. It'll make good copy."
*Nicely done*
"Stanley you need to start damage control on the attack yesterday. It needs to be buried but the rules stand...find something pro-meta and interesting and above all truthful. You'll need to be ready with rebuttal as well once I do go public no doubt they'll dredge it up. Nothing false but interpretation is everything."
Mel stood. "Is there anything else?"
“So, cooking up a fake war is out?” Stanley asked with a serious look on his face before holding up a hand. “Joking, I’m joking. But yes, they will dredge it up. Which is why you’re very grateful nobody was hurt because of the value of life, blah blah blah, but you had to act because you couldn’t live with yourself knowing that you could have done something and didn’t all out of a silly little fear that some will think you are somehow less than human because of the misguided actions of a few individuals.”
“And on that note, I think that is all,” Sara cut in. “We have a lot of work to do, in order to find something to bury the attack with.”
“Oh, yes, of course,” Stanley stood up quickly, enthusiastically shaking Mel’s hand. “And may I say, my dear, it is a pleasure to meet you. It’s always nice to see a new star on the way to the top.”
*Further than you know*
CROSSOVER SERIES ONE: NOVEMBER 16, 2003 TO MARCH 31, 2004
Thursday, 27 November
Nightclub in Washington
10:17pm
It took Sara another full day before she could finally act upon Mel’s suggestion to check out the night club. Her other experiments called her, overseeing the reconstruction of the lab she destroyed. Observer was mercifully distracted by trying to break the mysterious encryption sequences, enabling her to turn her focus to her body.
Stanley dropped her off at the nightclub. He caught her on the way out, and asked her what she was up to, eventually getting the truth out of her. Then he took her to get what he called a ‘more proper outfit’ and even drove her to the place. Giving her a cell phone, Stanley told her to call as soon as she was ready to leave.
Sara found the clothing quite curious. Though Stanley had her try on several outfits, the one that he finally settled on was interesting to say the least. It was two pieces, black leather pants and a leather vest top. Entering the nightclub, she noticed several eyes turn towards her as she surveyed the place before trying to figure out what she was supposed to do now.
*****
“I still can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” said Alexander Michaels. Nightclubs weren’t his thing, let alone one with bright lights, loud music, lots of floor space, and mostly full of 20-somethings. Staffers mostly, who came to the place to relax after a hard day at the office. Though Alexander did like crowded places if he had to meet someone – it did ensure your protection to an extent – he didn’t like to go there on a regular basis.
His friend George sat at the table next to him, sipping a drink. “You just needed to relax is all.”
“For crying out loud, I stick out like a sore thumb in here.” It was true: unlike George who looked every bit like the perfect nondescript man in his 30s, Alex was almost 40 and wore glasses. Oh he didn’t look it exactly, but there was something about the way that he held himself that said he was older.
“Don’t worry, you’ll be ok, Alex, you-“
“Don’t call me Alex.”
“-you just need to find someone to talk to,” George finished, without correcting himself. “You know, get laid, relax, then you go back to work on a winning streak.”
Alexander shrugged his shoulders, going back to his drink. George had convinced him that he needed to take some time off and relax, then dragged him out to this nightclub. Why, oh why, had he done that? It wasn’t like he was having a particularly good time or anything, and… “That looks strange,” he said.
“Huh? What?” George asked, looking from across the room.
Alexander motioned towards the bar. “Her. The woman in leather, looks to be in her 30s?”
George turned his attention away from a redhead across the room to the dark haired woman. “Nice body, what’s wrong with her?”
“What kind of woman comes to a nightclub and doesn’t drink?”
“One who wants to say sober, obviously.”
“No, no, look closer,” Alexander told him, having to wait for the throng of people to pass by so that he could get a better look. “She doesn’t have a drink at all. Period. Not even water.”
George threw a sideways glance at his long time friend. It was just like him to notice something like that, being paranoid, but she probably was only waiting for a drink to be delivered. “Why don’t you go talk to her then? Say something, man, you’re obviously interested.”
Sara thought that she was a bit out of place, though had several rather interesting interactions with humans. The bartender seemed more annoyed than anything else that, in the time she was there, she had not ordered a drink. Then there was the man who had approached her. Why had he addressed her as an infant? This particular species was just becoming curioser and curioser.
“Hello,” she turned at the sound of a voice behind her, deep and steady. There stood a 40 year old man who looked like he didn’t belong here any more than she did. “Is this seat taken?” he motioned to the empty stool near her.
“No,” Sara watched him carefully as he slid into the seat next to her. That seemed to be the custom; one asked if the seat was taken, and the answer of ‘no’ served as an invite. She supposedly had the change to reject him, but there was some form of ritual that would have to be gone through.
Alexander ordered another drink for himself, as he considered the woman. She was certainly attractive, he thought, though the angles of her face at least implied a certain amount of toughness. Then there was the way she checked out the people there, more like she was studying them. “Buy you one as well?” he asked.
Sara turned to face him on the stool, wondering how humans ever put up with these contraptions. A rotating stool without a back didn’t strike her as safe or efficient. “No, thank you,” was her reply. “I don’t drink.”
Alexander had expected the answer, but expecting and hearing it were two completely different things. *Metahuman?* he wondered, perhaps someone with a unique or slow metabolism. Was such a thing possible? *Maybe if I didn’t sleep through that biology class…* “So what are you doing in a nightclub?”
“The usual. Trying to relax.” Sara smiled as she knew they were supposed to do. Truthfully the usual for her was more observation and experimenting, but the conditions of the experiment restricted her from saying this. “My name is Sara,” she added, figuring that she could get that ritual out of the way.
“Alexander,” he returned, looking her over carefully. She didn’t seem to react to his look at all, nor did she seem particularly attracted to the women. Though he came over to mainly shut up George, he was intrigued by her. “So, what is it exactly you do?”
That seemed to be a standard thing among humans who did not know each other well, and Sara was at a loss of exactly what to say. Though she had been coached on a good answer to give. “I work for Benson, overseeing research.”
“How fascinating,” Alexander said. He’d always wanted to meet someone from Benson, mostly because of an interest in the clinical immortality project. “I’m something of a freelance security consultant. I worked on their computer systems a few years back.”
“Really? What is it exactly that they hired you to do, Alexander?”
“Try to break into their security system, find the holes. That sort of thing,” he replied evenly. It was true enough, even if it was a cover. Truth be told he hadn’t done much freelance work – just enough to support himself – since he left Zyrcom ten (or was it eleven now?) years ago. “Not that Benson ever has many holes anymore.”
Sara knew this was probably Observer’s work. He would have been quite thorough when they told him to find the holes, using pretty much every trick in the book – and if a freelancer was hired after that, he would have watched, and responded sometimes. Or just waited to find a new trick that he could employ. “Zyrcom did install the security systems.”
“And of course we all know that Zyrcom never makes mistakes.”
Sara had to guess that this statement was what humans called sarcasm. Zyrcom had made plenty of mistakes, after all. “What’s wrong with Zyrcom?”
Alexander looked her straight in the eye. He wouldn’t come out and say some of the things he’d learned, not directly, but people did need to know. “Nothing, so long as you don’t mind working for an authoritarian CEO who’s willing to develop an artificial intelligence capable of hacking into the Department of Defence and ordering a nuclear strike if it really wanted to.”
Sara looked at him, completely surprised by the remark. It didn’t take a genius I.Q. for someone in the know to figure out exactly who he was referring to – and Observer probably could hack into the Department of Defence and issue orders for a launch before anyone knew what happened. “I think that’s a bit paranoid.”
Alexander snorted. They always called him paranoid. Only they didn’t know the things that he did. They weren’t fired for being “the leak” and only by luck manage to escape more permanent termination. He still didn’t know how Zyrcom dodged the penalties on the statutes aimed at protecting whistleblowers. “Maybe. I would certainly like to hope so, at least.”
A more interesting question occurred to Sara as she talked with him. Alexander seemed genuinely disturbed by the idea of someone with that kind of power. “You really don’t like the thought of that, do you?”
“No.” Alexander turned away for a moment to take a drink. He still wanted to know more about this woman, to get away from the current of the conversation. “Can we please talk about something else?”
Sara nodded, what she had learned was a symbol of acquiescence. “Such as?”
“You,” he immediately replied. “You intrigue me, Sara. I know it sounds like a line but it’s true.”
“I intrigue you?” Sara asked.
“It’s not every day you see a woman in a nightclub who doesn’t drink.”
“Oh.” She knew that there was supposed to be a great deal of social connection in drinking and all, but… well, she didn’t drink. Anything. “So, what about me?”
“I don’t know,” Alexander sighed, wondering exactly what it was about this woman that intruiged him – and why she was so.. odd. “What do you do, what’s your favourite movie, why do you work for a company like Benson?”
Sara was a bit surprised at the questions, and began trying to profile Alexander. He either had a strange sense of humour, or Mel’s paranoia. Then there was the curiosity, she figured that he had a genuine interest in her, but why? “I actually don’t usually watch film.”
*Christ. What do you do for fun?* he thought, sizing up the woman. She was probably the type of woman who launched herself into her work completely, had no life outside of the lab. But then what was she doing in a form-fitting leather outfit in a nightclub? “I guess work at Benson doesn’t normally leave time to relax.”
“No, not normally. I spend the entire day overseeing some experiment or other.”
Alexander nodded, he could understand the feeling. In his Zyrcom days when he was on the M.A.I. project, it had seemed like the only thing that he had time to do was work on the project. “Yeah, that’s what tends to happen in these large corporations.”
“What about you?” Sara asked before he could say anything else. It seemed like a good chance to ask, since she was supposed to be using this as an event to learn more about humans.
“For what, fun?” Alexander stopped to take another drink, wondering the best way to put it. “Romantic comedies, cop shows, and you can’t go wrong with a good book.”
Sara turned away, with the feeling of… something. Humans. Complex. She had never seen a romantic comedy, or a cop show. And the only good books she had read were scientific. “Have you ever read any Thomas Kuhn by any chance?” She had had some of his works translated into e-books, after all.
“Kuhn? Is that who you read for fun?”
“Yes. Why, is something wrong with that?”
“No, no, it’s just a bit unexpected is all.” Alexander glanced towards George, his friend was in the middle of chatting with a leggy redhead. He wasn’t very comfortable there in the nightclub, amidst the loud music and this woman just got more and more interesting. “Listen, Sara… would you rather go somewhere else to talk? I can hardly hear you in here.”
Sara wasn’t sure what to make of the question. On the one hand, getting to know someone unconnected with the company or conspiracy would be good for her. But on the other hand there was still secrecy to maintain. “Really? Like where?” The secrecy could wait; so long as the truth about her wasn’t guessed it was ok.
Alexander shrugged. “I don’t know. You pick.”
Checking her internal chronometer, Sara noted that she had another experiment which would probably be reaching critical soon. “Well, I’ll tell you what, why don’t you give me your phone number and I’ll call you?”
“I, uh, don’t have a phone,” Alexander had to confess. Aside from a few anonymous e-mail accounts with rather complicated security measures, he didn’t have any electronic communications.
Sara felt an eyebrow raise, another of the automatic reactions built into her. “Now who’s the strange one?”
“I never said you were strange, just interesting.”
“Isn’t that just a euphemism for strange?”
“Um…” Alexander didn’t know why exactly he felt so embarrassed. Aside from the fact that she had caught him. Finally he made a decision, scribbling an e-mail address on a piece of paper. That account was pretty well protected and he had enough proxies that it was rather difficult to track. “You can get in touch with me here. Now if you’ll excuse me….”
“Of course.”
Billy and Sol talk in her room
*** Wednesday, November 26, 2003 around 10 pm ***
*** Soleil Munroe’s Suite at the Renaissance Mayflower Hotel ***
Billy Wren stood at the door of Suite 902 and prepared to knock. He was hesitant. *What am I doing here?* Billy thought to himself for the millionth time. *Why did I give her my number? What was I thinking? She’s out of my league and if Mako finds out…*
Billy dropped his hand, and looked down at the floor, studying the pattern on the obviously expensive carpeting as he thought things through once more. He still couldn’t figure out what had possessed him when he’d handed Soleil that scrap of paper with his phone number on it. *No, be honest with yourself at least, man,* Billy thought. *You know what possessed you. You couldn’t stand the thought of that pretty girl believing you were lower than pond scum, even if it’s the truth. So, now you’ve gone and done it good. She’s involved and probably in danger, and just cause she’s a hero or whatever, that doesn’t give you the right to put her in the middle. What the hell do you expect her to do about Mako anyway, and what about the “Manager”? He’s worse than Mako, and if he finds out what’s going on here…*
*What is going on here, though?* Billy continued to argue with himself. *Why did I come? Why did she even call me back? What am I doing?*
Billy had almost convinced himself to just leave and forget the whole thing, when the door swung open, to reveal Soleil standing on the other side. She was smiling warmly, and at the sight of her, Billy decided he couldn’t just walk away. Something about that bright, welcoming smile made him feel like there was hope after all.
“Billy,” Sol said, grabbing his hand and pulling him inside. “There you are. I was starting to wonder if you’d changed your mind. I’m glad you didn’t.”
Billy nodded, blushing, as Sol led him into the living room of the suite and sat down on the sofa, pulling him down beside her. He glanced at her before looking away quickly.
*Great!* he thought. *She looks like a sunbeam or something. How am I supposed to concentrate with her sitting there smiling at me like that, anyway?*
Sol sensed that Billy was uncomfortable, and she couldn’t really blame him. Yesterday morning, she’d been in a pitched battle with him and the rest of The Quartet, and now he was sitting in her living room. It seemed sort of far fetched if you thought about it, but she couldn’t have ignored his plea for help if she’d tried. She just didn’t have it in her.
Sol knew, from the little Billy had revealed this morning on the phone, that he was a member of The Quartet, apparently a mercenary group of metahuman criminals available for hire by the highest bidder. Sol also knew that Billy desperately wanted to get out of the group, but he didn’t think there was any way that was going to happen. Sol disagreed. If he wanted to go straight, then she was going to make sure he could, without worrying about repercussions from any of his old teammates.
There was something about Billy that struck a cord within Sol. They’d only spoken briefly that morning when they’d arranged the meeting. Sol had awoken on Ric’s sofa early that morning, after they’d both finally passed out sometime around 3 or 4 in the morning. They’d talked half the night, getting acquainted. (And pausing to make out here and there.) When Ric had gone to shower, insisting she wait so he could take her back to her hotel himself, Sol had gone in search of a clip for her hair, and instead come across the scrap of paper with Billy’s number on it. Not wanting to risk Ric overhearing her conversation with one of the “bad guys” from the previous night, she’d decided to wait to call until she was back at her place. Ric had dropped her off, promising to come back for her before lunch time, and Sol had called Billy as soon as he was gone. They’d arranged this meeting then.
Sol had almost cancelled after she and Ric got back to the hotel a couple of hours ago. He’d been reluctant to leave and she’d just about backed down, but he was really…amorous, and Sol still wasn’t ready for that big a step quite yet, despite the fact that she felt like she’d known Ric a lot longer than 24 hours. She’d convinced him to head back to his townhouse so that they could both get some much needed rest, only after she’d promised to spend the next day with him as well. It was Thanksgiving and in a way, Sol was glad for the company. She’d never been away from her Mom and Dad on the holiday before.
Linda and the others from the paper had all flown out this afternoon, but Sol had decided to stay on. It was a holiday, and she was an adult, so she could do as she pleased, and she wanted to spend some more time with Ric before heading home. Besides, she felt there was a storm brewing just on the horizon in this city and Sol thought perhaps she would be more effective if she stuck around to see it through.
So, now she found herself sitting next to Billy in her suite, trying to decide the best way to get him talking.
“Uhm…would you like a drink or…something?” Sol asked, hoping to “break the ice.”
“Uh…sure…I guess,” Billy nodded. “Water or…whatever would be fine.”
Sol sprang up from the sofa, dropping Billy’s hand, which she’d been holding without even realizing it. She moved across the room to the bar and grabbed a glass and a bottle of water. She bounced back over and sat down, handing both to Billy.
*Should’ve said no,* Billy thought, accepting the drink. *Then she’d still be touching you, dumbass.*
“Uh…thanks,” Billy set the glass and bottle down on the coffee table.
“So,” Sol said, as the silence stretched out between them.
“Right,” Billy tried to psych himself up to talk to her. “I…I was wondering…that is, I thought maybe…”
“Billy,” Sol interrupted, taking both of his hands in hers. Sol came from very “touchy-feely” people and thought nothing of touching people freely. “I know this is kind of weird, but I want you to know that I want to help you. You’ve got nothing to be afraid of. If you just trust me, I promise, together we’ll come up with some way out of this for you.”
Billy felt very moved by Sol’s words. She really was a good girl, the kind of girl he’d always hoped to find. The problem was, he was all wrong for her. He only wished it could be otherwise.
Sol could see the bleakness in Billy’s gaze and she was saddened by it. He was a very lonely, very sad guy. She’d learned that very quickly. He was also a good guy. He’d just made some bad choices.
“Tell me what’s going on, please,” Sol advised. Billy nodded, and slowly he began to explain. He told her about his powers, about his affinity for machines, and about how he’d come to be that way. She was disgusted to realize that companies like Medigene were actually using people that way. She guessed that Billy must have had a genetic predisposition though, for it to have worked.
“So, I understand what happened to you,” Sol interrupted, “but I can’t for the life of me figure out how you ended up mixed up with the likes of Pretty Poison and Mako. Why do you work with them? I mean, it’s fairly obvious that you don’t approve of what they’re doing, and you seem like a really…decent guy to me, so why? I just don’t get it.”
Billy blushed. She thought he was decent? Who was she kidding? He did things, bad things…for money. There was no way he was one of the good guys, no matter how much he wished he could be.
“It’s…well, it’s sort of complicated,” Billy finally replied. “You see, I need the money. The thing is, there’s this…weird side effect that came along with the genetic tampering Medigene did to me. I have to…consume large amounts of electrical power. If I don’t, I’ll die. And that’s really expensive, so…I agreed when the Manager made me the offer to join the Quartet, because I didn’t know what else to do.”
Billy stood and started pacing around the living room, not looking at Sol.
“I knew it was going to be a mercenary team, don’t get me wrong,” Billy said bleakly. “I knew we would be doing some questionable things. I just didn’t realize the extent to which I’d have to go. Mako, he’s totally nuts, and he’s really strong, you know, so he’s the leader, because, well none of us want to get on his bad side. And Lily, well, she likes it, poisoning people, and killing people. It makes her hot or something. And Mr. Nobody, well, I don’t really understand him at all. He’s so different, you know. It’s more like he’s, I don’t know detached or something. Everything is about the…experience for him, or at least that’s how he’s explained it. The thing is, really, they all enjoy what we do. For them, the Quartet is…fun. I’m the only one who suffers these pangs of conscience, you know, and sometimes I wish I could be more like them.”
“What, you wish you could be a psychopath or a sociopath?” Sol interrupted. She was steaming. This “Manager” guy had backed Billy into a corner, and the poor kid had been raised by Medigene, so what was he supposed to think? He didn’t really know any better. He didn’t know there might be other ways. He’d been lied to, and manipulated, and her heart went out to him. Billy Wren was as much a victim as those the Quartet harmed.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Billy,” Sol said. “You are a good person, I know it. You’ve been used, and you did what you thought you had to. I totally understand that.”
Billy stopped pacing. He stared at Sol, comprehension dawning. *She doesn’t think I’m the scum of the Earth,* he thought, feeling relieved. “Well, I guess, I just…Thanks, Sol, seriously. It means a lot, you saying that.”
Sol waved off his words. “Billy, I mean it. And I wanna help you. I think, maybe, I can. We can do it together. Get you out of the Quartet, I mean.”
Billy felt a surge of hope, but it was quickly squashed. “I don’t know,” he said. “You don’t know how these people are. I think maybe it’s too dangerous. I think…I shouldn’t have talked to you. I don’t want to get you hurt.”
Sol stood and moved purposefully towards Billy. She grabbed him by the shoulders. “That’s enough of that,” she said firmly. “I said I was going to help you, and I am. Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself. I’d think you’d know that.”
Billy blushed again. He could feel the warmth of her body as she stood so close to him, and her firm grip on his shoulders was both reassuring and exciting. Sol was so beautiful, and so determined. He longed to be good enough for her, to be worthy of her concern.
“I just don’t know how we can…” Billy began.
Sol cut him off with an impatient shake of her head. “You don’t have to figure that out by yourself. That’s what I meant when I said we’d do it together. You’re not alone anymore, Billy.”
Billy felt a rush of warmth at her words. He’d barely met this woman, but he was already half in love with her. She not only believed in him, but she sincerely wanted to help him.
“I…” Billy tried to reply, but choked on his emotions.
Sol could see Billy struggling, and there were tears glistening in his eyes. His eyes were the strangest light blue, almost white, and they had no discernible pupil, but they were full of emotion, and Sol was deeply touched. Billy struck a chord within her. Hadn’t she been the same only a few days ago, lonely and confused? She was only now beginning to feel like a part of the human race again. Sol understood the importance of making connections with people who were like you, of knowing people who could understand what being a metahuman really meant.
“It’s alright,” Sol said, stretching up to wrap her arms around Billy’s thin frame. She’d grown up in a town full of people who were effusive in showing affection and support. She thought nothing of hugging someone when they were hurting.
Billy felt Sol pressing against him, her arms wrapped around his neck. She gently patted him as she soothed. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, inhaling the sweet, feminine scent of her hair and allowing himself, just for a moment, to sink into the fantasy of having the right to enjoy her embrace. He felt full of joy and sick with sorrow all at the same time.
Sol stepped back after a few moments, smiling up at him with the brightest and most encouraging of smiles. Billy nearly staggered under its brilliance.
“So,” he finally said after a few moments, “now what? Where do we go from here?”
“I’d love to say, just pack up and run away,” Sol admitted, worrying at her lower lip with her teeth, “but realistically, we can’t take things that quickly. The manager and the others aren’t going to want to just let you be. We’re going to have to think things through very carefully.”
Sol took Billy’s hand. “Come on and sit with me, and we’ll see what we can come up with.”
Billy nodded, still a bit shell shocked from Sol’s attention. He followed her over to the sofa and sat beside her. They began to discuss their options. Billy couldn’t help but notice how often Sol casually took his hand, or touched his arm as she spoke, and he couldn’t tamp down the spreading warmth that her simple acceptance and gentle affection evoked. By the time he left her, Billy had fallen completely with ease, but Sol had no idea.
Ela and Sol bond
*** Thursday, November 27, 2003 9 pm ***
*** Soleil Munroe’s suite at the Renaissance Mayflower Hotel ***
Soleil took one final look around the room. She'd sent down for room service a while ago, and it had just arrived. Plus, she'd made a run to a nearby grocery store, so the sitting room was stocked with snacks. She had chocolate in abundance, popcorn, potato chips, and a few pints of different ice creams in the small refrigerator. She'd ordered a selection of fruits and vegetables from downstairs, as well as some desserts. *Not bad,* she thought, heading for the door at the sound of the knock.
Sol put on her brightest smile as she swung the door wide open. "Hi, Ela," she said, ushering the girl inside. "I'm so glad you could come."
Ela smiled shyly. Though she and Sol had spoken at length on the phone, Ela still felt a little overwhelmed by the full force of Sol's bright, bubbly personality. She bobbed her head, keeping her left side away from Sol as much as possible and headed inside.
"Hi, Sol," she said in return, then her eyes lit up as she saw the array of junk food laid out on the table. "Ooh, rocky road, my favourite."
Ela blinked in the sudden silence after Sol stopped speaking. "Uh, I'm good. Whatever you want to do," she said.
She shuffled nervously to the sofa, then realised just as she was about to sit that she'd have her left side facing Sol if she did. But the move was half-started and she hesitated, torn between seeming to be rude by moving seats or letting Sol see her face. Finally she backed away from the sofa, keeping her right side to Sol, and felt for the chair she'd spotted. Sitting in it she smiled self-consciously at Sol's enquiring gaze.
Ela was acting strangely. Sol couldn't quite pick up on what the problem was though. *Maybe I'm coming on too strong.*
"Uh... am I making you uncomfortable?" Sol asked, hesitantly. "I know I'm a little... forward... sometimes. I guess I'm just excited that you're here. I want you to have fun, to feel you know... ok hanging out with me. I haven't... I don't... I know I maybe sound crazy, but I really want to be your friend. I don't have any other friends who are... well, you know. Except Ric, I guess, but I told you about that, and it's not the same. I don't feel this overwhelming urge to jump you like I do him." Sol laughed derisively at herself after that last statement.
Ela blushed furiously. She'd been trying not to think of Mel in those terms over the past couple of days, despite her friend's continued denials whenever the subject of Pretty Poison was even vaguely approached. She didn't want to be thinking of Sol and her new boyfriend, too. And she felt bad, too, about making an awkward situation with the whole seating thing.
"Uh, no, no! Sol, you don't make me uncomfortable at all. Really. I just, uh... I um, thought maybe you'd want the sofa to yourself." Ela tried a new smile on, but it felt somehow fake.
Despite what Ela was saying, she could tell the other girl was really uncomfortable. Sol sighed. Part of it was probably her mention of Ric. The topic seemed to really freak Ela out. *She's been really... sheltered. If I want to be her friend, I have to remember that.*
"Right, so... We don't want to talk about boys anyhow," Sol said cheerily, reaching for a carrot stick that had been artfully arranged on a room service tray. She took a bite and chewed it thoughtfully for a few moments. "Tonight is girls only."
Sol stood up, heading for where she'd left the nail polish, files, and all that. She passed by Ela as she did so, and glancing down to make a comment, was stopped dead in her tracks. The left side of Ela's face bore a brilliant, rainbow coloured bruise, which stretched from just below her eye to around her chin.
"Oh My God!" Sol exclaimed, falling to her knees beside Ela and taking hold of her face gently. "What the hell happened to you?! Who did this?!"
Ela pulled away from Sol's grip and put her hand up to cover her face. "It's ok, it's nothing. Just a bruise. It'll fade," she muttered. She let her hair fall over her cheek, hiding the worst of the mark.
Desperate to find something to change the subject, Ela fixed upon the first thing that came to mind. “So, uh… Ric? When are you seeing him next?”
Sol drew back, incredulous. "Ric?" she repeated. "Are you kidding me? You are not getting out of it that easily. I want to know what happened. How did you get hurt? Who do I need to kick across town for you?"
Ela sighed. She hadn't known Sol very long, but what she did know told her the woman would be tenacious. "Ok," she gave in, "but please don't tell Mel. I've been able to hide it from her so far, and if she finds out I was hurt she won't let me go out any more."
*Go out,* Sol thought, nodding slowly. *Go out with who? Who are you involved with that would do this to you, Ela?*
"Sol? Do you promise? You won't tell Mel?"
*Geez, this must be a big deal,* Sol thought. *She's seriously freaked.*
“Ela, I'm your friend, remember," Sol said. "I won't tell anyone anything if you don't want me to. That's what it means to be someone's friend, at least where I come from; to trust someone and to honour that person’s trust in return. Now, please, tell me what happened."
"It's nothing, really. Just... you know that demonstration at the Lincoln Memorial yesterday morning? I was there, ‘cause people might get hurt, and just got hit by a rock is all. See? Nothing really, but Mel worries too much ya know?" Ela smiled. "It barely grazed me, really."
Sol nodded slowly, seething inside. Ela was just trying to help. She felt like she had to use her gifts, as Sol herself did, but Ela was exactly the kind of metahuman that those bigots warring on the Hill never considered. She didn't have any offensive abilities. She couldn't hurt anyone, even if she wanted to. What she could do was only to the benefit of mankind, normal and meta alike. Yet, she was the one who suffered through the narrow mindedness that seemed to be spreading through this country like wildfire.
"Oh, ok," Sol said, controlling her anger. She didn't want to frighten Ela, but things like this just reinforced for Sol how right she was in trying to make a difference. "So... let's... uhm... do something fun," Sol continued, standing back up. She grabbed the manicure stuff off the table and brought it back over to the sofa, setting it down in front of her. "Want me to do your nails first... or maybe I could curl your hair or we could... uhm, stuff our faces?"
Ela let out her breath. She was worried that Sol might give her the big motherly lecture, the one she just knew Mel would give her if she ever found out. But Sol just let it go. Smiling now, Ela held her hand up to her hair, which fell long and straight. "You want to curl it?" she asked incredulously. Then she glanced at her nails. They'd never had a manicure in their lives. "Well, uh, I don't know," she stammered uncertainly, "I've never had anything done to my hair or nails..."
Sol laughed in delight. "Well then, girlfriend, we've got a lot of work ahead of us. Trust me, this is the best way for girls to bond. Just relax, I promise not to do anything permanent or outrageous."
Sol moved over to where Ela sat, bringing along the nail files, bowls for soaking, and polishes. "The nails first," she said, taking hold of one of Ela's hands and studying it critically. "Then hair... and maybe, if it's not to late, we'll do a quick facial. You'll feel like a new woman by morning."
She set things up, and soon she had Ela's hands soaking.
As Sol worked on Ela's nails, she filled her in on everything that had happened with Ric in much greater detail than she had on the phone. She was open about him, but she kept quiet about Billy. She didn't know what to say about a guy who worked with a team of mercenary super villains and still managed to touch her heart. And she was way too confused about him to be ready to talk about it.
"Wow," Ela was flabbergasted. "I've never, I mean... there weren't any boys at home that I fancied like that, and here - well, it's a bit weird here. Even in Las Vegas I spent most of my time with Mel and Nic. The only other people I saw were the ones at the hospitals. And you stayed all night? All night? Just talking, you say... Wow. He sounds really nice." Ela sighed, "I don't think I'll ever meet someone nice."
Sol sighed. "He's... yummy," she said simply. "Oh, and I can't believe I forgot to tell you. He's from Vegas too. His parents own like a half dozen big casinos out there or something. I think maybe they're loaded. Anyway, I think I'll be visiting you a lot more than I realized."
"Oh, great," Ela beamed, "Though now you've described your station - sorry, 'ranch' - I'd love to go see it." Ela sighed. She also had a feeling that even if Sol visited Vegas more often Ric would benefit more from Sol's presence than she would. She peered at her nails. "Wow, I don't think I've ever seen them so neat before. When you spend half your time mustering sheep you don't get to worry about nails much."
Sol laughed. "Momma always insisted that even on a ranch, a 'lady should be a lady'. She thought that was the only thing that separated us from the cowhands." She finished by applying a hot pink coat of polish to Ela's nails. "And you're not going to be chasing after any sheep in Vegas, I don't think, so you might as well look good."
Sol sat back, proud of her accomplishment. "Now, I'll put some bounce in that hair of yours, and before you know it a whole bunch of someone nice will be beating down your door.”
A slight blush crept up Ela's cheeks again, making her neck feel hot. It wasn't that she was unaware of the facts of life – on a sheep station it was kind of hard to avoid. But whenever any topic shifted onto her, Ela always felt uncomfortable. As Sol moved behind her to start brushing out her hair, she nervously eyed the rollers, tong, and other items that looked like they'd be just at home in a dungeon as in a hair salon.
"Well, I dunno," she finally ventured, "Even with pink nails and a perm I don't think the boys will exactly be flocking to see me. Let's face it," she eyed herself critically in the mirror, trying to ignore the discoloured bruise, "I'm not exactly your centrefold model, am I?"
"Whatever," Sol waved Ela's words off. "You're very cute. You're just a little bit... quiet. But lots of guys like quiet. The question isn't what they like, anyway. It's what you like." Sol expertly twisted long locks of Ela's hair up into the hot rollers she had set up nearby. "So, tell me, what do you like?"
As Ela and Sol talked and laughed, they moved on from hair to facials, and finally to movies, settling in with gunk drying on their faces as they laughed out loud at the antics on the television screen. They stayed up, eating and talking, and just generally being silly girls for hours.
For both of them, it was an oasis of normalcy in the desert of unrest that Washington had so recently become.
CROSSOVER SERIES ONE: NOVEMBER 16, 2003 TO MARCH 31, 2004
7:55pm Wednesday 26th November 2003
Washington.
Mel stepped out of her taxi, paid the driver and nervously smoothed down the skirt of her dress, then scolded herself for doing so. Ela had worn a barely concealed smirk when she’d come out of her room wearing this outfit. Mel was honest with herself the halter necked black minidress was a little more racy than her usual eveningwear.
The short skirt coupled with a pair of moderate heels showed off her long, tanned and toned legs to perfection. With her arms and back left bare as well the dress was designed to hit the male libido like a bomb. It suggested a great deal without quite revealing anything. Mel shivered. It wasn’t however designed for a cold November evening in Washington but she didn’t mind too much. The club would be warm enough.
Looking around for Nic, Mel was shocked speechless. Nic’s dress while made of considerably more material than Mel’s managed to be even sexier. A deep rich red, the clingy cloth hugged every curve and hollow of Nic’s body. For a second Mel wondered just how you’d go about taking it off.
Nic glanced over Mel than she laughed. “Oh you are so over Karl.”
Mel smiled back. “I guess so…” There wasn’t much point denying the charge, considering she’d packed this dress for what had been nominally a business trip. It suggested her subconscious knew more about her relationship than she had been willing to admit.
Mel slipped her arm though Nic’s and put the subsequent shiver down to the cold. “Ready to go break some hearts?” She asked lightly
“Definitely.”
***
Once inside they headed to the bar and after a little shouting at the barman managed to order. They took their drinks and found a table in a quieter area of the club. Settling down in their seats they looked around. The place was filled with loud fast music, flashing lights and bright young things looking to party.
Nic was aware of something…off about Mel tonight. She’d noticed the sexier than normal cut of her friend’s black dress. *But then again, when have I not noticed everything about you,* Nic thought with an inward sigh. She’d resigned herself to the fact that Mel didn’t feel the same things she did, but sometimes it was so…hard.
*And sometimes it’s damn near impossible,* Nic forced herself not to take any longing looks at Mel’s long, tan legs. There were some things you had to do subtly taking a sip of her drink, Nic finally turned her full attention back on Mel. The whole club was buzzing with an underlying tension, and Mel seemed to share in some of that. “So…do you maybe want to…dance or something?” Nic asked, leaning close to whisper in Mel’s ear so she could be heard above the pounding base beats.
Mel threw a glance at the dance floor. It was packed with people dancing their troubles away, even so she could sense the tension and that tension was infecting her own. Mel wasn't here to gain tension and right now the dance floor looked the perfect
Leaning into Nic she whispered back, "sure," and didn’t notice her lips faintly brushing Nicola's ear. They left their drinks on the table and headed out onto the floor. The sheer number of people of people forced them close together and Mel just let the music take her.
Swaying and moving to the music she forgot about the pressures of her life and just danced. The crowd pushed at her, the beat drove through her and Mel let go, moving against the people around her letting the press of people and the heat they generated carry her away.
Nic was unable to just let the music take her, as the crowd of people gyrating around them forced her to press close into Mel's body. With her eyes closed, Mel was pressed close to Nic in the crowd, and if afforded an opportunity Nic rarely had. She could for a brief time, surrounded by crowds of strangers, be close to Mel, drink in the sight of her and just briefly imagine what it might be like if things were different.
As the techno rhythms pulsed all around her, Nic indulged in the secret thrill of Mel's skin brushing against hers as they moved. She could feel the heat of the other woman's body like an embrace, and she allowed herself, just for the moment, to fully embrace the answering heat within her own body.
*If only...* Nic shook her head, unwilling to pursue that line of thought once again. She'd come to terms with these feelings long ago, and it was only the way this night was going that even brought them to mind. With another woman, this would have meant something different, but not with this woman. Mel was straight. Nic had known that for years.
An unusually heavy bump knocked Mel out of the rhythm and she opened her eyes. The DJ had just dropped a new track and the dance floor was filling up even more. Lowering her hands from over her head Mel settled her forearms on Nic's shoulders and smiled as she pushed her gently backwards moving all the time to the beat.
Eyes still open she held Nic's gaze and when their motions pressed their whole bodies against each other Mel saw something flare in Nic's eyes but before she could identify it was gone. Mel withdrew just enough to feel Nicola moving against her. Whatever it had been she wanted to see it again.
When Mel maneuvered her body closer to Nicola's own, Nic couldn't control the spike of desire that flashed through her like a brushfire in the dry Nevada desert. She nearly groaned aloud in frustration.
*Oh heaven help me,* Nic thought to herself, biting her lip to keep from leaning a few inched forward and planting a kiss on Mel's oh-so-inviting lips. *Give me strength.*
The music continued, changing, become slower, and somehow more...erotic. Mel's body adapted, swaying against Nicola's until Nic thought she might really lose it. As she felt Mel pressed thigh-to-thigh, hip-to-hip, and chest-to-chest against her, Nic knew she had to do something or risk embarrassing herself and losing her closest friend. She didn't stop to consider how it might look. She took hold of Mel's arms by the wrists and pushed away, squeezing off the dance floor and making a sudden run for the bathroom. She just needed a couple of minutes to compose herself.
As Nicola literally fled from her presence Mel just stood there in pure unadulterated shock. *What just happened?*
*"Well...*
*Not tonight Sym. This is my time. Go away!*
*I can't really... Ok I'm going*
Mel shook her head and moved to follow Nic to bathroom while she replayed the last few moments before she disappeared. *Oh God!* Mel stopped as another bone jarring shock went through her. *She thinks I... Oh God* without thinking any further Mel pushed almost as desperately through the crowd as Nic had before her.
Nicola was absolutely thrilled when she got into the tiny bathroom and found it completely empty. She'd lucked out. Now maybe she could get her raging libido under control before Mel noticed anything. Once she was away from the crowd and noise, she quickly walked over to one of the sinks and, taking a paper towel from the holder mounted on the wall, she carefully wiped off her face. She then placed the cool cloth on the back of her neck as she drew in slow, deep breaths. Her heart was racing and her normally pale skin was flushed a deep red.
She smiled ruefully at herself in the mirror. "Way to go, Idiot," she chided. "You almost blew it out there. Now, how are you going to explain running off like that to Mel? I don't think telling her the truth is going to go over so well."
The door to the bathroom burst open and Mel's eyes darted around the confined space while the music blasted in. She rushed up to where Nic stood by the sink.
"Nic look I'm sorry about... I didn't mean... It wasn't..." Mel stopped talking and took a deep breath. "That wasn't what it seemed. I wasn't..." *Coming on to you...* "I wasn't trying to make you uncomfortable. It was just a dance, yeah? Nothing else."
Nicola spun away from the sink when Mel burst in, a guilty look on her face. She barely registered the other woman's words. "I was...just...I needed...it was just getting so hot in there," she finished lamely. *Hot?* Nic thought to herself. *Oh yeah, something was getting too hot, alright.* "I just needed to cool off...that's all," Nic could hear the desperate edge in her own voice, but she couldn't seem to control it.
Mel took another half breath "Sure I mean if you're ok" Mel was suddenly confused Nicola didn't seem too concerned about Mel's behavior but Mel had done just about everything except kiss her. At that thought Mel's eyes dropped for a moment to Nicola’s mouth before she wrenched her gaze back upwards.
A frown creased her forehead "Look I'll give you a minute" Mel said uncertainly. Backing out of the bathroom Mel kept her eyes on Nic. She was more confused than ever. Nic wasn't reacting anything like she was expecting
Nic panicked as Mel backed away, misinterpreting her friend's reaction.
"No!" Nic grabbed Mel's hand, practically dragging the other woman back into the bathroom. She turned the lock, closing the door. She didn't want Mel to leave. Not like this.
"Wait, Mel, please...I can explain," Nic said. She didn't let go of Mel's hand, but clutched it tightly. "I didn't mean...I shouldn't have..."
Nic's voice dropped to a dejected whisper. "I didn't wan to scare you."
"Scare me?" That just made Mel's confusion even worse. She'd done just about everything except push the woman against a wall and ravish her lips and Nic didn't want to scare her? Now instead of being horrified, which Mel had thought was the reason Nic had fled in the first place, Nic was instead...desolate. She'd fled because of the dance that was certain but if she hadn't been repulsed why had Nic acted like she had? It hit her like a thunderbolt. "Oh!" The sudden surprise evident in that startled exclamation
Nic noticed the different emotions flitting across Mel's face, and winced when surprised understanding replaced confusion.
*Now you've gone and done it,* she thought. *She's figured it out.*
"Look, Mel..." Nic tried to explain, "it's no big deal. Out there I just sort of...reacted, but it doesn't mean anything. You and I, we're friends, you know...and well...I don't want to...I'm not trying to...it's just no big deal."
Mel reached up and put her fingers over Nic's mouth. So what had just happened on the dance floor? Mel had certainly made a pass. Had it been accidental? Mel's fingers curled inwards until only her index was resting against Nicola's lips. She hadn't had to dance like that. She'd just been going with the feeling. The finger slowly traced the outline of those lips. It had felt good. Different, soft, feminine but still...good.
The finger returned to the center and pushed inward. It slipped past those soft
full lips Nicola's teeth scraped against the knuckle while her tongue pressed wetly against the tip. Mel pushed further and her finger slid effortlessly into Nic's warm wet mouth. Her tongue continued to press gently and her cheeks hollowed slightly as she applied a hint of suction while Mel withdrew her whole hand.
Nic was surprised by Mel's sudden bold move. When Mel's finger stroked her mouth and slid in between her lips, Nic didn't hesitate. She just went with it. And when Mel pulled her hand away, Nic didn't think at all, she just went on instinct, grabbing hold of her "old friend" and pressing her own mouth to Mel's. She gave in to the simmering passion within her body, and kissed Mel for all she was worth.
Nic was totally engrossed in the kiss, and a part of her mind was screaming in exultation when she realized that Mel was not only not fighting it, she was actually getting into it. They were locked together, mouths pressed together, tongues intertwined, when Nic finally became aware of the loud pounding on the bathroom door. With a deep groan, she pulled back from Mel.
"Uh...I think someone wants to come in," Nic said softly.
"Huh" Mel just blinked rather dazedly for a second. She'd just...and Nic had...and she'd.... Getting control of herself and not letting go of Nic for a second Mel moved over to the door threw the lock and walked out of the bathroom. Now she knew what she had seen in Nic's eyes on the dance floor. It had been desire and Mel still wanted to see it again. Maybe Sol was right maybe Ela was too.
That kiss in the bathroom had loosed things in her. Desire. Need Outright lust. Not some chemically induced false hunger but the real thing. Ignoring the angry looks from the woman by the doorway Mel wrapped an arm round Nic's waist and pulled her close to whisper in her ear. "I guess we really need to talk but," Mel nipped at Nic's earlobe. "I want to finish what I started"
Nicola laughed in delight. Who was she to argue with whatever fate had made this happen? She'd been lusting after Mel for years, thinking there was no way anything would come of it, and now suddenly, she was pressed up against the other woman with her body burning from the contact. *Hell, I;
I'm more than game,* Nic thought.
"Sure," Nicola nodded, "Let's dance."
Nic followed Mel back onto the crowded floor, this time wrapping her arms around the taller woman's neck and pressing her body close.
This time it was different. This time Mel knew what was happening even if she didn't quite understand why. This time she knew it wasn't the crowd pulsing heat through her body. Every contact from the desperate presses to the fleeting brushes fired her blood. They danced in the circle of their own heat, danced to the thunderous beat of their own heartbeat. There was no one else on the dance floor just them and years of repressed passion. Mel ground her hips against the smaller woman feeling an echo of what was to come.
She pressed her mouth to Nicola's lips and thrust her tongue inwards at her invitation, skimmed her hands over the material of her dress caressing the heated flesh she so desperately wanted to touch.
Nic felt her body tightening, as desire flared higher and higher in time to the pulsating music. Mel was pressed so close to her, and what Mel was doing with her hands and mouth were driving Nicola crazy. She wanted, suddenly, more than anything, to be able to touch the other woman, to be alone with her.
*Alone?* Nic thought, the reality of the situation suddenly bursting through the bubble of lust they were both in. *we're not alone, though,* Nic thought, a bubble of panic forming. *We're in a very public place...and we're making out...*
Nic struggled to keep her private life, well...private. She knew that the lifestyle she led wasn't exactly conducive to a successful career in politics. There were too many small-minded people in this country. The last thing she wanted was to allow her lust to run rampant over her good sense. Ruefully, she pulled away from Mel.
Mel clung to Nic as she tried to pull away but the other woman was insistent not overly forceful just insistent . Mel look at Nic, saw the sudden panic in Nic's eyes and suddenly the reality of what she was doing of what they were doing came crashing in.
They'd been kissing. More than that they'd been.... making out didn't seem to cover it really. She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth and just stared at Nic and the leering face of the men behind her. Turning she pushed her way through the catcalls and jeers and tried to find the exit she needed to get out of here she needed to....
*Dammit I'm straight! It's just suggestion and circumstances and... I'm straight! I'm twenty-four and that's a decade too late for a sexual identity crisis*
Nic watched the dawning horror and embarrassment on Mel's face, and cursed herself for her rash movement. She hadn't meant to give the other woman the wrong idea, but just as she was going to explain, Mel pushed through the crowd and took off. Dimly, Nic heard the men making lewd suggestions as she too took off, in hot pursuit of her friend.
*Damnit, you've made a mess of this now,* Nic thought, heading for the exit, just as Mel reached it.
Mel got out side and the cold night air washed the last remains of her desire from her body, never the less the shock made her pause. She didn't know what to do next. They needed to talk but just thinking about it made her flush with embarrassment. Looking around she saw a taxi rank a little way down the street and turning she walked purposely towards them.
Nic managed to get outside just as Mel headed for the row of taxis down the street. Breathless, but determined, Nic called out to her. "Mel! Wait! Don't go!"
Hearing Nic's shout Mel considered for a moment ignoring her but that wasn't fair. So instead she stopped and turned back. She didn't move towards her just waited for Nic to approach. "What was that." She gestured harshly towards the club "I mean what were we thinking. I'm...I've never even looked at another woman."
*Liar!*
She saw Nic's face crumple and ignored it. She wasn't gay, she couldn't be. She liked men. She enjoyed men. Tonight had just been a...an aberration brought on by the whole Pretty Poison thing and the environment.
Nic heard Mel's angry recriminations, and felt her heart break. Had she misread things? Was there something going on here that she didn't understand? Should she laugh it off, blame it on the music and the liquor, or...
*No, it's time you took a chance,* Nic thought, lifting her chin in unconscious defiance. *You weren't alone in there.*
"Look, Mel," Nicola said decisively, "I don't know if you're straight or gay or what, but I know that I'm...I'm gay, and I have feelings for you, strong feelings. Maybe this is going to totally fuck up our friendship, but I can't just pretend that didn't happen in there. I felt like...I felt you...and I liked it, but more importantly, I felt like you liked it too. And then I think maybe I scared you off. And I'm sorry."
*Had she liked it?* Mel thought. Maybe she had. No if she was honest with herself it had been good, great, bordering on fantastic even but she’d never even dreamt of doing something like that with a woman. So what? Was she that…that homophobic she couldn’t accept she desired another woman.
She did. Mel knew her own body well enough to know that the sight of Nic right now, in that dress that revealed yet concealed almost her entire body, excited her.
Even more than that this was Nic. The friend who'd held her when her father had died. She'd shared things with Nic that she hadn't told another soul, not even her past lovers. She stepped of the edge of the sidewalk and sagged against a wall.
"I don't know how to do this Nic" She wiped at her suddenly damp eyes and succeeded only in smearing her mascara. She looked up at Nic ,stripped of the denials, open. "Show me?"
Nicola felt tears flooding her eyes as well when Mel looked at her with such utter trust. She smiled slowly.
"I thought you'd never ask," she said, taking hold of Mel's hand. She started to lead Mel towards the taxis once again, and then paused to look back at her friend.
"My place is ok, right?" she asked, her smile full of promise. "Cause it's just around the corner...and it's unoccupied."
Mel leaned in and pressed her mouth to Nic's. This kiss was different., no less passionate but sweeter less hungry. "Your place is fine."
Nic led Mel to the taxi, and quickly gave the driver instructions. They arrived at her hotel in a matter of minutes, and Nic tried very hard not to rush Mel up the elevator and into the room, but it was a close thing. Once the door was shut behind them,
Nicola turned around and smiled at Mel from beneath her lashes. Without a word, she wrapped her arms around the taller woman and let herself sink into the passion that had been simmering between them not only tonight, but for years. Nicola was delighted when Mel met her passion with an equal one of her own.
_______________
I'd like to thank Kris without who this post probably wouldn't have been written. Even if it had without her it would have been a lot less...
CROSSOVER SERIES ONE: NOVEMBER 16, 2003 TO MARCH 31, 2004
10:13am Thursday 27th November 2003
Washington, Nicola Reynolds Hotel room
Nicola turned over, snuggling close to the warm body next to her on the bed. She sighed, but refused to open her eyes. She didn't want to wake up all the way and find out that the night before had been a dream.
*It was too good to be real,* she thought to herself, recalling in vivid detail every moment of the last few hours, most of which had been spent in this very bed. She hated the rising sun for bringing such a magical night to an end, and a part of her feared that when Mel opened her eyes she's suddenly come to her senses and run away. After all they had shared, that would be too devastating to contemplate.
Finally, she opened one eye and squinted over at the woman lying next to her, who was still deeply asleep, but had wrapped her arm possessively around Nic's midsection.
"Beautiful," the redhead murmured, bringing one hand up to stroke Mel's hair, a brilliant wash of blue against the crisp white linens. Nic had wondered why Mel would opt for such an unusual color, but had to admit that it suited her flashy friend. Nic drew her hand back self consciously as Mel stirred beside her. Biting her lip, she waited for the other woman to open her eyes with trepidation.
Consciousness returned slowly to Mel bringing with it a catalogue of sensations she never expected. The pleasant warmth that seeped into her from where her arm lay across Nic’s waist the soft curves pressed into her body. Curves she’d mapped out with lips tongue and hands the night before.
“Mmmmm” Mel exhaled a soft lazy moan and turned slightly to nuzzle at Nic’s neck. She tightened her grip on Nic for a second. If she just went with her feelings maybe she could put off thinking about this whole thing a little longer.
Running her hand down over Nic’s hip to gently stroke the outside of her thigh Mel placed an open mouth kiss just where Nic’s neck met her shoulder and opened her eyes.
“Morning…” she breathed
Nic felt her pulse race at Mel's gentle touch. The caressing and kissing threatened to override her better senses, but she did have things to do today. Much as she'd like things to be different, she couldn't afford to waste the day away in bed with this wonderful woman she was more than half in love with already.
At the thought, Nic suddenly sat up, her eyes round with wonder. "Love?" she asked herself, not expecting the immediate positive response she got. She had been friends with Mel forever, and she'd lusted after the woman, without question. But just now, lying there in a state of idyllic bliss, the idea that she might have strong, real feelings for Melissa, had sort of snuck up on her, and somehow she wasn't entirely at ease with it.
*Am I in love with her?* Nic mused, an edge of panic underlying the surprise. *Can that be? Can I afford for that to be true?* Nic sat there, frozen in place by her thoughts, unaware of what effect she was now having on Mel.
*Love? Did she mean? Oh no, she can’t…* Mel watched the emotions flit across Nic’s face and swallowed. That initial look of soft surprise that flowed effortlessly into the beginnings of panic, panic that resonated deep inside Mel. Nic couldn’t love her could she? Did she love Nic?
No, they were friends, best friends even and they were lovers but they weren’t ‘in love.’ Perhaps that would come but right now Mel had enough to deal with. She could admit she wanted Nic – just, but she was not falling for her best friend.
Still that wasn’t important right now Nic was freaking and needed a friend. Mel sat up and slipped her arms around her, ”Hey, hey.” Mel hugged her close and pressed another kiss to her shoulder “It’s ok…it’s ok”
Nic felt Mel's arms slip around her, strong and comforting. The panic she had been fighting off started to recede. She was able to think more clearly. *Of course I love her,* Nic realized. *She's my best friend in the whole world, and she's gorgeous, and funny, and now we're lovers. I'm not made of stone. I'm drawn to Mel and strongly attached, but that's nothing to panic about. Whatever happens next is what's supposed to happen. I can handle that.*
Sighing, Nic turned to Mel and smiled sheepishly. "Yes, of course it is," she said, leaning forward to brush her mouth across her lovers. "I don't know why I even started to panic. It's not supposed to be a big deal, right? So, I'm not going to make it one."
Nic settled back suddenly, a puzzled look on her face. She had just realized that Mel's eyes were still shining brightly. *How strange,* she thought. *Contacts like those...I didn't think you could leave them in all night.*
"Are you okay?" Nic asked, frowning.
*Uh-oh* Nic was looking into Mel's eyes when the frown appeared. *Ok So why did you have to be smart? Karl never noticed...*
*Karl never noticed lots of things...*
*Not a good time Sym!*
Mel couldn't help blinking as she nodded "Yeah, why?"
Nic cocked her head to one side and studied Mel for a minute.
"Do you maybe want to take those out, cause I think maybe I have a case in my bag," she replied. "Or I can call down to the desk and see if there's one they could send up. Your eyes are probably burning by now."
*Ok So now what? Brazen it out?* Not that that would delay things much. Once Stanley got his publicity machine going Nic was going to find out she was a meta. The least Mel could do was tell her face to face especially after what they’d just shared.
*Strange you never thought that with Karl.*
*Could we discuss my hypocrisy later?*
*Sure…*
Mel took a deep breath, “I’m not wearing any contacts. This is my natural colour.”
Nic laughed at Mel's words, but her laughter quickly trailed off when she realized Mel didn't seem to be joking. "Your natural color?" she repeated incredulously. "Come on, Mel. No one's eyes are that color naturally. Not unless they happen to be some sort of fre..." Nic's face fell and her voice trailed off.
*Metahuman...that's what they call themselves,* she thought. *Freaks is an offensive term. You should know that. You're a politician, remember girl. So, don't offend her by calling her a freak.*
Nic's face filled with a dawning realization and horror as she stared at Mel's eyes and then brought her gaze up to the blue hair tangled about her head. She didn't say a word.
*Freak... She was going to say freak...* Mel closed her eyes and clenched her fists. She'd never though Nic was prejudiced, she worked for Douglass after all but for her to say it so unthinkingly..*No, come on be fair. You just drop that on her after last night and expect her to be politically correct?*
"The hair’s not a dye either, I'm a metahuman. To be exact. I'm Gabriel." Mel screwed her eyes up she didn't want to see Nic's face right now.
Nic was taken aback once more. *Gabriel?" she thought. *The 'Vegas Light'? Mel is ...How can that be?*
"Wait?" Nic held up a hand, shaking her head in disbelief. "I don't understand. I've known you for...how can you be Gabriel?" Nic paused, rising off the bed to pace slowly around the room. "I mean...we were roommates. We've cohabitated. How could you be a metahuman and I not know it? That doesn't make any sense."
Nic paused, taking a good, hard look at Mel. It made sense. Of course, physically, it did. The hair...the eyes...looking at Mel, Nic could very well see how she'd been deluding herself. She felt foolish, and ashamed at her knee jerk reaction to this revelation.
Her face burned. "Oh, crap," Nic said, collapsing bonelessly into the chair by the bedside. She dropped her head into her hands and groaned.
Mel couldn’t deal with the emotions she could feel rolling off Nic So she instead answered her questions. Tonelessly, inflectionlessly she spoke “The technical term is environmental meta. We created as a result of on interaction with extreme environmental circumstances..” Mel opened her eyes but didn’t look at Nic instead she focused on a spot about four feet up the wall opposite the bed.
“So I wasn’t a meta when we cohabited. Though the potential was there of course. In my case I was exposed to something in the Nevada desert on one of my rock hunting trips. I’m not sure what. Ever since then I’ve been a real life Metahuman.”
*You’re not going to tell her about me?*
*What after half convincing Ela I’m suffering from dissasociative personality syndrome? No I’m not telling her about the second personality sharing my head. Right now I’m not sure which would be worse. That I have a second personality that I have conversations with or that an Alien symbiote from another planet shares my headspace*
*oh…*
*No witty comebacks? Good! Stay silent and butt out this is my personal life!*
Nic looked up as Mel spoke, her heart wrenching at the bleak look on her friend's face. Mel had finished speaking and the silence hung heavily in the air around them. Nic didn't quite know what to do next. A part of her wanted to just jump up and grab Mel and hold her close; to hell with her own reticence. But, unfortunately, the rational part of her mind kept her from moving. This wasn't something she could just push aside. This was a huge, gigantic big deal. Especially now, in this country, hell. in this city, where the question of metahumanity was a bubbling brew of fear and resentment that threatened to spill over and wash the nation in it's toxicity.
Nic knew firsthand how most people viewed metahumanity, but she'd never really analysed her own sentiments. Sure, she worked for a man who was behind the cause of metahuman rights, and she publicly supported that, but privately she was very confused. *I guess in a way it's like sexuality,* she mused. *People fear those who are different. But what about me? Am I just as bad as they are?*
Nic knew that this didn't really change Mel. The woman was the same person she'd shared such tender intimacy with the night before. But her heart lurched as she thought of how very different Mel was. Fundamentally, her very body chemistry, her biology was different from Nicola's own.
*What does that mean, though?* Nic puzzled internally.
"I...see," Nic finally said neutrally. "I guess...I know...I don't...oh, Mel..."
Nic finally gave in. *Go with your gut,* she cautioned, thinking of how brave, how fearless Mel had been with her the night before. Standing, Nic moved over to where Mel sat stiffly on the bed. Without another word, Nic bent down and wrapped her arms a around the other woman, sighing.
"You...you're still you..." Nic said softly. "That's all I care about. The rest...well, it'll have to work itself out, right?"
When Mel felt Nic’s arms surround her she quivered, when Nic’s soft words of acceptance registered all Mel’s fragile strength shattered. She clung to Nic like a dying woman clung to a piece of wood and gasped out her pain and fear in great wracking sobs.
The thought that Nic might have rejected her still shot bolts of icy pain through her and for a moment Mel just rocked against her lover desperate for the slightest hint of reassurance
"D-Do you want to see?"
Nic held Mel tightly, pouring all the acceptance and understanding she possessed into the embrace. She was ashamed that her actions had caused such pain to her friend. When Mel asked if she wanted to see, Nic hesitated for only a moment before replying "Anything you want to show me."
Mel tightened her grip on Nic for a moment, trying to draw her acceptance a little closer. The sobs had faded to occasional hiccups and Mel to a few moments to get her breathing back under some semblance of control With one last deep breath Mel let go of Nic and stood up.
Somehow letting go made it easier and with an outward Calm Mel took two steps into the room. Glancing first upward and then to the walls on either side Mel finally turned to face Nic.
“This is who I am.” Cool blue light washed into the room as first Mel’s forcefield flowed over her skin then eight ribbons of light unfolded from Mel’s back to ripple and flow in some unfelt wind. “I’m Melissa Hartson. I am Gabriel” She stood there in her glory. An angel carved out of light.
Nic's eyes widened in wonder and awe. She'd seen photographs and video of Gabriel before, but they hadn't compared to this. The sight of Mel standing before her, transformed both frightened and delighted her. Mel wasn't just something different, she was something amazing and wonderful. Nic felt tears spring to her eyes as she gazed at Mel in reverent silence. She'd been so wrong to react the way she had. Mel was not the same person she had always known, but someone more, and Nic sensed the honour of being trusted completely. She was humbled in the face of Mel's bravery.
Finally, smiling weakly, Nic spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "Oh my! You're so...beautiful. That's amazing, just...spectacular." Nic reached out a hesitant hand towards Mel, and felt a pleasant coolness envelope her as she reached past the barrier of light surrounding Mel's body. It tingled slightly, seeming to momentarily draw the heat from Nic's hand. She lifted her head looking directly into Mel's strange, shining eyes and smiled broadly as her hand came up to caress Mel's cheek.
"And there you are, still," Nic said softly. "No matter what, it's still you."
Mel raised her hand and leant into Nic’s touch before turning her head and placing a kiss in Nic’s palm “Thank you” She leant forward and pressed a chaste kiss on Nic’s lips “Thank you” Interspersing her kisses with whispered thanks Mel moved from Nic’s face to her throat and collar bone.
A sense of sheer relief had gone through Mel when Nic had reached out to her hand; her friend hadn’t rejected her. Despite the enormity of what Mel had shown her Nic had not been repelled. Instead she’d touched her accepted what Mel had become. That was a gift Mel had no right to expect. It was a gift more precious than any she’d ever been given
Without Mel’s concentration to sustain them Mel’s wings faded away but she had to work a little as always to suppress the forcefield. Drawing Nic back to the bed Mel sat on it’s edge and slipped her arms around her new found lover. There were tears in her eyes but this time they weren’t the result of fear. This time they were tears of joy. “You’re the first Non-meta I’ve ever told.” She pressed her forehead to Nic “I can’t say it often enough. Thank you”
Nic blushed at Mel's heartfelt gratitude. A part of her burned with indignation that her newly found lover should have to worry about being accepted. This world was still so filled with injustice.
*That's why you do what you do, remember,* Nic chided herself. She rested comfortably in Mel's embrace, gently stroking her body. Nic sighed at the warmth filling her own.
"I have this thing..." she said softly. "I'd much rather spend the rest of the day in this bed with you, Mel, but I promised Senator Douglas I'd dine with his family today. He's invited a few of the interns to his place over in Georgetown. I hope you don't feel like I'm abandoning you."
Nic gently kissed Mel, and then pulled back to look questioningly at her. "You're okay with that, right?" she asked. Inside she was thinking that there was nothing she could do. She couldn't very well take Mel along. How would that look? Her sexuality was a closely guarded secret and had to remain so for the sake of her career. Nic hoped that Mel, who obviously had a secret of her own, would understand that.
Mel glanced at the bed and blushed, she didn’t want Nic to leave . She wanted to lock the door and just make love for the rest of the day but Nic’s career was important to her and she’d been trying to get Douglass’ attention for months. This diner could be the opportunity she was looking for.
“It’s ok I understand we can’t stop the world just cause we’ve found each other and really I ought to be getting back Ela is,” Mel stopped speaking she’d stayed out all night Ela was probably frantic with worry. “Oh God!”
Nic grimaced at Mel's words. She understood that Mel felt responsible for the younger woman, but sometimes she wondered if Mel didn't try and take the protective thing too far. Ela wasn't a baby, after all, and Mel deserved to have some fun sometimes.
*Or maybe I'm just jealous,* Nic thought darkly. It was possible.
Nic pulled free of Mel's embrace and walked over to the nightstand and grabbed the phone, dropping it on the bed beside Mel.
"Go ahead and give her a call, if you want," she suggested. "I, however, am going to take a hot shower, work out the kinks. For some reason," Nic smirked at Mel, "I'm a bit sore this morning."
Mel's eyes never left Nicola's body as she walked out of the room. Mel absently picked up the phone and continued to look at the open door. She heard the shower start to run and finally glanced down at the keypad. She began to dial the hotel number and when she reached the last digit paused.
*She’s a smart kid…*
*Yeah* Mel dropped the phone and headed to the bathroom.
____________________________
Another post which would never have been without Kris. Ok I'll stop embarassing her now. Thanks Kris
CROSSOVER SERIES ONE: NOVEMBER 16, 2003 TO MARCH 31, 2004
Friday 28th Nov 2003 - 9:15am
Ela couldn't put it off any longer. Despite the late hour at which she'd come home she found it hard to sleep too late, and had lain awake for some while now listening to Mel moving about in the next room and wondering how to avoid showing her face again.
Still, the shower beckoned. After a night of eating junk food she was feeling more than a little greasy herself and so she grabbed her fluffy dressing gown, supplied courtesy of the hotel, and scurried towards the bathroom.
"Morning, Mel," she said, doing her best to sound normal while she kept her head down and maintained a quick pace to the white-tiled sanctuary that awaited.
Mel barely glanced up from her coffee as Ela breezed past her. She was brooding. She knew she was brooding because Sym kept telling her so. Unfortunately Mel didn't want to listen to the voice of reason. Sym was being logical about it all and this wasn't about logic, it was about how she felt.
Yesterday had been wonderful; when she was with Nicola everything had been so clear, so simple. She had wanted Nic and Nic more than reciprocated. They'd shared an almost magical night together and then afterwards... afterwards Mel had told Nic the truth.
She could still feel the sharp pain when that hated word had slipped out of Nic's mouth - 'freak', to be washed away when Nic had wrapped her arms around her. When she had seen her in her power and called her beautiful. Mel smiled, they'd dallied in the shower and desire had washed the rest of the pain away before Nic had had to go to that dinner with Douglass.
There was no desire now, just fear and doubt. They'd done such things and they'd been wonderful but was that who she was? Who was she?
Thankfully Mel seemed blissfully unaware of her presence, for which Ela was both grateful and a little miffed. Still, stinging needles of hot water soon washed away her tiredness and the greasy feeling. Drying herself in front of the mirror, she inspected her face. Maybe it could be mistaken for a shadow... *Yeah, who am I kidding?* Ela snorted softly in derision. Nearly two days after the rock had collided with the side of her face it had swelled and was now a deep, puffy purple. *All right, I'll just lie on my left side again all day. Easy.*
Backing out of the bathroom, Ela manoeuvred herself to the kitchenette and busied herself with breakfast. "Have you had brekkie yet?" she asked the taciturn Mel.
"Hmmm, pardon?" Mel looked up from her coffee again and actually saw Ela this time. Ela had spent most of the time yesterday in her room and hadn't realised that Mel had stayed out all night. A fact Mel was profoundly grateful for.
"Uh, no." Mel raised her mug. "Just coffee."
Ela frowned at Mel's distracted look. Having discovered Sym's existence, she'd come to recognise when Mel was taking to her symbiote. And this wasn't it.
"What's the matter?" she asked.
"Nothing..." Ela's sidelong look told Mel that that evasion hadn't worked so she tried again. "It's the conference, the attack yesterday, the whole thing," she sighed then went on, "and Observer."
Hopefully that would be enough to put Ela off the scent. Mel didn't want to face 'perceptive' Ela especially not perceptive Ela telling her to talk about her problems.
Scowling at the name, Ela popped bread into the toaster and pushed the lever down. "Observer, humph."
Trying to change the subject to a lighter note Ela chirped up with, "So, how did it go with Nic the other night? Did you two have a good time?"
Mel blushed. She couldn't help it and she cursed her body's traitorous reaction. She tried for nonchalant, "Yeah we had a good time."
*You know, I'm thinking I might be missing something here. So maybe talking to Ela might help because, you know, I was there and you had way more than a good time.*
Mel's cheeks flamed and she half choked on the mouthful of coffee she was in the process of swallowing.
A confused frown flitted onto Ela's face at Mel's initial colouration and settled in, making itself comfortable when Mel blushed the second time. She'd never seen Mel so flustered, except that morning with the whole Pretty Poison incident...
Not daring to come around the kitchen counter, Ela tossed a dishrag to Mel to clean up the coffee that puddled across the table. "You sure you're ok? You seem a bit... um...." Ela waved her hands, not sure whether she'd asked too much. She hated it when people asked her if she was ok all the time, and felt a little annoyed at herself for doing it to Mel. But Mel was definitely not herself this morning.
Mel coughed a few more times trying to dislodge the last of the bitter liquid from her trachea. "I'm fine," she croaked, "or I will be as soon as Sym stops trying to be a comedienne." Grabbing the dishrag Mel quickly mopped up the rest of the coffee, all the while avoiding eye contact with Ela.
*Right now I have no desire to discuss the details of my suddenly horribly complex love-life with you or Ela.*
*What's complicated? So you're attracted to both genders. Try 'homosexuality' in a three gender species. That's complex.*
"Three sexes?"
Not knowing where to put her eyes, Ela settled on the slowly burning toast, admiring the way the smoke rose out of the machine in grey tendrils. She wasn't quite sure what comment Sym might have made that had Mel answering like that, and she wasn't about to ask. *Maybe Mel is secretly attracted to Nic and doesn't know how to deal with it. Or maybe...*
"Oh, you and Nic didn't have a falling-out, did you?" Ela watched Mel's features as the woman repressed her emotions, trying to maintain her poker face. Ela's mind raced ahead to the possibilities.
"Oh, that's it, isn't it? With all this stuff going on... don't tell me - someone started something, making a ruckus, and you had to use your powers to stop it, to stop people getting hurt. But Nic saw you, and she couldn't accept it. She turned her back on you?" Getting into the swing of her scenario, Ela scowled, "And I'll bet she spat at you, and called you names, and..."
She stopped suddenly, aware of Mel's stony gaze on her, and she flushed in embarrassment at her outburst. "Or... maybe something like that..."
*Mel, just tell her. If you're not going to talk to me about it, fine. But you need to talk to someone. You can't keep letting this eat you up.*
*What, so I just come out to my female houseguest/ward? And when I go public? I can hear the girl wonder jokes now!*
*So tell her so she can deal with it. She's smart and tough, she'll deal with it.*
*Will she? Remember how she looked at me in the car afterwards...*
*She had a momentary wiggins but she dealt with it just like Nic dealt with you being a meta. She's not going to abandon you just because you’re gay.*
"I'm not..." Mel began hotly.
*I beg to differ, Mel. So would Nic... Tell her! Smart and tough; she'll cope and she'll help you too.*
Mel looked up. Ela was resting on one elbow and watching her, waiting patiently for her internal dialogue with Sym to resolve itself. Mel smiled weakly at her and took a breath. "I-I stayed the night at Nic's."
"Yeah, and I spent most of the night over at Sol's place... Or do you mean to say that you've finally realised that you fancy Nic?"
Mel blinked, her mind momentarily shut down as she tried to process two disconcerting comments simultaneously. "I don't think... what do you mean, finally?"
Uncertainty crossed Ela's face again. Maybe she'd misunderstood what Mel had tried to say. Her natural tongue-tiedness warred with her curiosity, but ultimately she knew that if she was right Mel should at least have one confidant who didn't live in her head. She just hoped she wasn't about to commit a gross blunder and ruin a perfectly good friendship.
"Well... you know, ever since that thing the other day with that meta..." Ela knew she didn't have to elaborate on exactly who she meant, "you've been kinda in denial about certain, uh, feelings you might have. But you and Nic have always been so warm towards each other, and I just thought that now, after the other day, maybe... you and Nic..."
"We were dancing... and then she freaked and then I freaked and then we... I never knew she was gay. She's wanted me since college and I never saw it." Mel's voice was soft, her mind elsewhere. "She cares for me so much... I told her I was a meta and... She said I was beautiful." A single tear rolled down Mel's cheek.
Mel looked up at Ela, her face displaying the confusion and heartache behind her words. "I don't want to hurt her but I don't know if this is me..."
Now Ela was thoroughly lost. What could she possibly say? She'd never so much as been in a normal boy-girl relationship, much less had to deal with suddenly discovering a latent lesbianism. She had no words of wisdom, no sage advice, no experience to draw on.
But she recognised pain when she saw it, and even if it wasn't the sort of pain she could heal at least she could offer her friend some comfort. Completely forgetting her reasons for staying half-hidden from Mel, she moved out to the table and bent over to give her a hug. "It'll work out," she said inanely.
Mel leaned into Ela’s hug and gave her friend a watery smile. She knew she was being silly. She knew Sym and even Ela would probably tell her so. She’d spent the night with Nic, enjoyed both the passion and the tenderness. She should just accept the consequences of that and move on but she couldn’t and she wasn’t even sure why.
Finally the colour of the left side of Ela’s face penetrated Mel’s self absorption and she reached up and gently grasped Ela’s jaw. Looking at the lurid purple bruise Mel frowned then stared hard at Ela. “Just how did that happen?”
Chagrined, Ela dropped her eyes to the floor. "Nothing, really. Just... when I went out the other day, Wednesday, I got caught up in a bit of a crowd in the street, that's all."
“Wednesday?” Ela had been pretty much avoiding her since Wednesday. She had obviously been pretty careful because Mel couldn’t remember actually seeing this side of her face since then. Mel took in Ela’s posture and smiled tiredly at the downcast eyes, the whole slightly submissive tone to it. Ela knew she was about to get a scolding but right now Mel’s heart wasn’t in it.
“So, not the memorial then. You didn’t spend yesterday afternoon dodging energy beams and trying to help people?” Mel let a faint smile play over her lips as she sighed again, more for effect than anything else. “I suppose I could go for the whole tirade on how you need to be more careful but I’m guessing a fist,” Mel looked closer; the bruise seemed a little large for someone’s fist, “or maybe a rock made my point for me.”
Mel pointed a stern finger at Ela, the effect ruined by the slight grin she just couldn’t get rid of. “I’m not saying I’m not mad. You should have told me where you were going and dragged me along or Sol or someone. What would have happened if it had been the memorial?” Mel finally stopped trying and engulfed Ela in a hug. “Oh come here! You’re ok, yeah?”
Ela squirmed a little at the strength of Mel's fierce hug. This was not at all what she'd expected - a far cry from the lecture she thought she'd cop. Maybe she should get Mel to reveal her innermost secrets more often, if it was going to mellow her out like this.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm ok. It was a rock... I don't think it was even aimed at me. I was just trying to get people off the ground - some had been trampled, and I was healing them..." She shrugged, "And no, no energy beams. I was uh, actually… Yesterday when that was happening I was hiding from you. I thought you'd yell at me."
"Maybe I should be... You definitely need to learn to dodge especially since you don't have a flashy forcefield. In fact, if you're going to be the sidekick of a very public superhero I think we need to institute a training program."
Ela blinked. "Sidekick? Training program? Wha...?" She put a hand on her hip and stared at Mel. "What ever happened to working behind the scenes? Don't tell me you've taken Observer up on his offer?"
"Well, yeah." Mel continued, filling the silence Ela's shock left behind. "If you'd have been here Wednesday instead of getting hit by rocks you'd have met my publicist." Mel bit her lip. "Look I'm not totally happy with the idea, but look what happened after the quartet thing. The anti-metas crucified us, even Sol and me. I can't..." Mel stopped and gathered herself. "I don't know how to fight that battle."
"And you're going to trust that megalomaniac machine? I don't think he's exactly on our side, Mel. Surely, surely... I dunno. Won't people realise, if we help them out often enough, won't they realise we're not all bad?" Ela's words sounded ludicrous even to her own ears, and she cringed. "Yeah, I know. They only see what they want to see, and they're afraid of anything that's different. But... Mel, I don't like Observer. I don't trust him."
"This from the girl advising us to try and pull one over him on the clones? I don't trust him either, and no he's not on our side but Sara might be and there's James." Mel looked out the window gazing on some unseen future. “He's trying to use us. We're trying to use him. I guess we'll have to see which one of us is the better player. I know where I'm putting my money."
Ela huddled miserably in on herself, sinking into a chair opposite Mel. "I just wish everyone would leave us alone," she muttered. She'd been watching the news broadcasts on the conference, and some of the anti-meta 'solutions' had sounded awful. "I don't want to end up in some special meta town, or get locked away, or... they're even talking about using drugs to suppress our abilities. I mean, if I can't heal people, what's the point of my existence? I just... I dunno, maybe Observer's plan will work, and give metas some positive publicity, but maybe it'd be better if we all kept quiet until people forgot about us?"
“With people like Mako and Pretty Poison out there?" Mel's eyes continued to focus on a point about six feet in front of her. "How many did they kill? How many more would it have been if we hadn't intervened? No, we can't just hide ourselves away no matter how much we wish otherwise. So if us playing Observer's games lets Sol and Sydney and others do some good, isn't it worth it?"
"Yeah, I guess," Ela acquiesced, but internally she was thinking that it was still possible to do good without being flashy about it. Still, if Mel wanted to go public, who was she to argue?
"So... what sort of training?" she asked suspiciously. "I'm not exactly superhero material, y'know. You won't be throwing me off a cliff and expecting me to fly, I hope."
Mel gave a little laugh. "You realise I was joking don't you? I'll play Observer’s paragon of metahuman virtue if necessary but you don't have to get involved. If you want to stay in the background I'll talk to Stanley and try and work something out."
Ela fidgeted. "Yeah, but if you go public, you know you won't have any private life left? It'll be like you're a movie star or something. Mind you, maybe it's time I found my own place to live anyway..." At Mel's shocked look Ela shrugged. "So far as I know Humans First are still after me, and if you're in the limelight it won't take them long to spot me in the crowd."
"But...Where would you go? El, you can't. I mean, yeah, I hadn't thought the whole celebrity thing over but maybe that'll help? I mean, sure they'll pick over every aspect of my...Oh." She was about to invite the entire media circus down on her head at the same time as trying to work out what exactly was happening between her and Nicola. She didn’t even know if Nic was ‘out’.
“She’s not. She can’t be. Oh God, El… What am I going to do?”
"Help how? What, put myself in the public eye so they don't dare touch me? Mel... I'm not a public sort of person. I know my limits." Ela tried to quell her racing heartbeat at the mere thought of being put on the spot like that. "I don't know what you can do. You'll have to decide if having your life under the microscope is worth it. You're striking a blow for meta freedom, remember? But yeah, 'she' - I'm guessing you mean Nic - probably won't be thrilled at the prospect either."
"I need to call her." Mel got up and grabbed the hotel phone. Punching in Nic's number she turned back to Ela, "And don't think we've finished with the whole ‘moving out’ thing… Hi, Nic."
Mel smiled, her whole body seeming to soften. "Um… What are you doing for lunch? Uh-huh. Could we maybe meet up? I... We need to talk. No, no, no, no, it's not... I'll explain when I get there. Yeah. One-ish? Ok."
Mel put the phone down and just looked at Ela. "Fuck!"
Something Wicked This Way Comes
Something Wicked This Way Comes...
Friday 28th Nov, 2003 9:30 AM
A seedy, rundown area in Washington D.C
Though his face remained as stony as ever, Wraithe inwardly scowled in disgust. He despised the city. It was so dirty...so crowded...so...full of humans. Vermin...filthy, disease ridden vermin...they swarm and herd, without even the decency of rats to be intelligent and solitary..., He slid into an alley way and found a heavily shadowed spot under a fire escape, wincing from the sudden ache in his head as his eyes readjusted to the darker area. He shook it away and settled himself down into a comfortable crouch, remaining perfectly still.
Had he his way he would be back in the forests. The forests, however, were shrinking and the hunters growing far too numerous. He could no longer support his bodies voracious need for sustenence and so he was forced into the cities where food was more easily acquired. The only thing that appeased his hate of the city was the satisfaction of killing the human vermin. On a good night, he might take a dozen. Only the ones that left themselves open to attack...the weak and the foolish. He was in fact doing them a favor as a whole. Natural selection, survival of the fittest. Also appeasing to him was the thought of resuming his travels in the spring. One by one they would fall...those scientists...until none were left but the prize himself. And he would take great pleasure from that last killing...indeed he would....
His sensitive ears pick up a sound nearby, but he remains still. A small man shuffles up the alleyway towards him. Wraithe can tell that the man has not spotting him among the shadows and moves slowly and silently into position. The man is ovbiously one of the many homeless on the streets. And obviously drunk or stoned. He hums tunelessly and noisily to himself as he staggers along. Wraithe stays still until the wino is right in front of him. He wrinkles his nose as the smell of alcohol and filth on the man and emits a low, rumbling growl from deep in his chest. The wino looks around...
"S'cat....or dog..." the wino mumbles to himself and crouches down rediculously, "Here, kitty, kitty, kitty....or doggy...here, boy...." As he turns to face Wraithe, he catches a brief glimpse of two glowing green orbs in the shadows, surrounded by an incredibly pale face, "What the..."
He never manages to get out his last words. Wraithe silently springs forward, bowling the man backwards. The man has no time to grapple or cry out before his neck is neatly snapped, turning it almost around backwards. Wraithe bares his teeth in disgust at the corpse and takes what few coins and small bills the wino has on him before dragging the still warm corpse into the shadows and spreading some waste newspaper over him. Anyone coming by would think that the wino was merely sleeping.
He suddenly realized he was hungry. The food-cravings came suddenly, but always strongly. He had eaten an hour before dawn,, but it was again time to feed his metabolic furnace. He tilts his head up and inhales deeply througth his nose. Ah! His nose sets of a signal in his brain that tells him that food is nearby. He follows the smell for a few blocks and comes to the backside of a butcher shop. The smell of raw meat causes his stomach to growl with anticipation. He waits out of sight until he sees a man in a bloody apron open the door with a metal pan. Several cats come out of hiding among the crates and boxes.
"Here you go...yous have to eat too, I reckon." the butcher says and tosses the meat scraps into what was once a shallow aluminum dog dish. The cats descend upon the mean as soon as the man goes back inside and closes the door. Wraithe rushes out of hiding and grabs the bowl, snarling feriouciously at the cats, who scatter back to their hiding places yowling with anger and reproach. Wraithe devours the meat with little ceremony. It isn't bad and it makes no difference to him whether the meat is raw or cooked; he knows his body can take care of most infections and toxins. When he is finished, he tosses the bowl back to the ground and trots off at an even clip back into the network of allies and backstreets until he finds what he's looking for.
The warehouse has long since been vacant. The windows are dingy and vacant and many have black spray painted pieces of plywood over them. Graffitti covers the brick. He ducks around the side of the warehouse and finds the old basement bomb shelter entrance. The sign has long since been stolen, but when he found this place it was still stocked with canned goods, beds, and candles. He creeps down into the shelter and bolts the door behind him. He winces again as his eyes adapt to the complete darkness, sending a pain through his eyes and forehead. He curls up on a dingy mattress and sighs deeply. It will be several hours before he must feed himself again...enough time for his daily sleep requirement of 5 hours. He prefers to hunt at night anyway...the hobo was a mere diversion. After a few moments, he drops intoa light sleep, his face creasing into a smile as the dreams come...dreams riddles with the sight of blood and the scent of death...and then the green of the trees and feel of the breeze as he runs through the forst. When he wakes, he will be ravenous.
the lockdown announcement
*** Friday, November 28, 2003, 9 am ***
*** Falconi Townhouse ***
Ric flipped on the television, setting his bowl of cereal on the table. He’d been out late with Jamie and the other “Spears”. They’d had a couple of drinks, ostensibly to celebrate his decision to officially join up, but Ric suspected it was really more of a way of rewarding some of the younger guys for their actions over the last few days. The “Spears of Evolution” had made some strategic hits around the city, attacking a protest, terrorizing the local law enforcement, and just generally getting their agenda out there. Jamie was the official spokesperson, as he was a founding member of the group, and he’d sent tapes into the press twice, explaining who they were and what they were about and taking credit for their actions. The “Spears” were all excited because there had been a couple of talk shows discussing them and their activities of late. Jamie said they were “finally getting somebody’s attention.”
Ric took a sip of his coffee and turned the sound up as a grave looking reporter appeared on the screen standing in front of the White House. Leaning back, Ric paid close attention to what the man was saying.
“…and I’m live at the White House as Tom Rightly, a presidential representative, is preparing to issue an official statement concerning the current state of affairs as they stand in the city today. As many of you already know, the violence and tension resulting from the recent events surrounding the gatherings held here on the Metahuman agenda.”
The scene changed to footage of the different attacks which had occurred in and around Washington D.C, starting with the kidnapping of the delegates from the Marriot last Thursday.
“As I’m sure all of you are aware,” the reporter’s voice could be heard as the footage played, “the Metahuman group who perpetuated this violent attack on the hotel has made certain demands of the United States government. Top of the list for this group is that a Metahuman nation be established. At this time, the President has been less than forthcoming about what steps are being taken to deal with this and the other Metahuman threats facing our city.”
The images on the screen changed, showing The Quartet’s attack on the anti-meta protests on the lawn of the White House. The footage showed Sundance and another meta fighting that woman, Pretty Poison.
“Following the events at the Marriot,” the reporter’s voice continued, “there was this attack by a well known Meta mercenary group known only as The Quartet. In this case, the terrorists were thwarted by two unknown Meta vigilantes, who unfortunately seemed to have little regard for the innocent protestors that were caught in the cross fire. As this footage shows, the Metas trying to police their own may be as dangerous, if not more so, as those attempting to use their so-called powers for illegal gain.”
The scene shifted yet again, moving onto the attack by the anti-metahuman group Earthrage on a pro-metahuman rally that had occurred a couple of days ago.
“The third major confrontation in this “triad of terror” was perpetrated by Earthrage, yet another militant anti-metahuman group. The attack on the pro-metahuman rally took place a couple of days ago, and the carnage was by far the worst yet. Four assailants from the group opened fire on the crowd with some sort of energy weapons. There were over twenty people injured in the attack and twice that many were killed. Of the casualties was the speaker at the rally, Dr. Jeffrey Weets, the renowned geneticist who had been such a vibrant leader in the metahuman rights movement.”
The footage on the screen shifted to reveal Dr. Weets standing on the podium. Ric watched, his coffee cup poised in mid air, as the man was struck by bright energy blasts from two different directions. The man’s body jerked, and there were screams all around. Finally, as Dr. Weets fell to the ground, the picture cut back to the reporter, who looked more angry than grim as he continued.
“Along with the terrorist from this Earthrage group, there were metahumans on the scene, more of the so-called heroes, interfering and escalating the violence of the attack. Among these, most notably, were the heroine of Crystal City, Spectrum, and this unknown Meta.”
On the screen, flashed a photograph of a felinoid female, with long ears and gray skin covered all over with dark bluish purple spots.
“This is yet another example of how this problem has grown out of hand, and the public outcry for the government to institute some sort of program to make the streets safe again is loud and continuous.”
“Following this horrible chain of events, the President has promised to issue a statement this morning. As each attack has seemed to escalate in violence and destructive properties, many analysts fear that drastic measures will have to be taken.”
The reporter paused for a moment. “And now, we take you live to the White House press room where Tom Rightly has just taken the podium.”
The scene changed yet again, this time revealing something Ric had seen many times before on his television, the White House press room, where a distraught, tired looking middle aged man with graying hair at the temples stood on the podium before the presidential seal.
“Ladies and Gentlemen of the press, and the citizens of this great United States now watching at home, it is with deep regret that I inform you that as of this time, the President of the United States, in cooperation with the Mayor of the City of Washington D. C. and the various police and military agencies within the capitol declare martial law for the D.C. area. This lockdown will go into effect immediately and will remain in effect indefinitely, at least until such time as the various terrorist groups and criminals in and around the city are detained and the streets are once again safe for the public. This is an unfortunate but necessary step in dealing with the current problems facing this administration.”
After reading his prepared statement, Tom Rightly fielded questions from the reporters representing various news agencies in the press room. Ric watched, his expression growing more and more furious, as the White House Press Secretary explained the “lockdown” in detail. There would be armed patrols of the National Guard patrolling the city in force, ensuring that there were no gatherings of any kind taking place. The water cannons would be made ready to break up any groups that gathered if cooperation wasn’t immediate. A curfew of 9 pm was to be imposed on all citizens for the duration of the “lockdown.”
Ric flipped off the television, snorting in disgust.
“Unbelievable!” he shouted, standing up and starting to pace. “This isn’t going to help! Not one bit! Damnit!!!”
Ric stopped and grabbed the phone from the counter. He had to make some calls. The “Spears” would undoubtedly want to do something, and that wasn’t going to be good.
“And Sol,” Ric said to himself. “I have to call her. I have to make sure she’s okay. She’s stuck here now because of me. Damn it all!!!”
CROSSOVER SERIES ONE: NOVEMBER 16, 2003 TO MARCH 31, 2004
November 23rd, 2003
Washington D.C.
10:45 PM
Lash was drained. Both mentally and physically. She needed a ‘pick me up’ to restimulate her deadened mind. All she could hear was that last Senators monotonous voice droning in her head. Her own thoughts were being thought with his tone.
She was seriously rethinking the job William had given her. She feared she might slit her wrists if she had to carry it on any much longer. Frankly, she knew the streets better! She grew up in them! They were her home.
‘beep-beep’ Lash jumped slightly at the vibration on her hip, pulling back her coat that proffered up slightly at the back where her tail jutted out beneath, and retrieved her mobile phone, answering it as she continued walking down the darkened street towards the hotel.
“Hello?”
…“Hey! Dash? Privyet!”
Behind her a man was walking, keeping a safe distance from her. He wore a large, but plain, coat over most of his body. His head was down as he was walking, but he kept his eyes tilted up to watch the woman in front of him.
He has been following her for a few hours…with her ability to go into walls, it wasn’t easy. He thought he had lost her once she went into that building but finally she had come out again.
This was Agent Leksi, and he wasn’t going to lose her again.
***
The cool November night cast a frosty blast of air across Lori’s back. She was out on the town again in her new alter ego, which still had no name. This was the third night in a row she had gone out without getting caught! Amazing! She silently congratulated herself, and also wondered why she even bothered paying her bodyguards.
It was a quiet night this one, but Lori couldn’t help thinking it was the calm before the storm. With everything that was going on in Washington, it was only a matter of time before something bad happened. The two sides—pro-meta vs. anti-meta—were always at each other’s throats it seemed.
Across the rooftops she ran, jumping from place to place. She loved the feel of the wind on her face. Inwardly, she knew she was a superhero because she liked the feeling of really doing something. Oh she could set up all the charities she wanted, but a superhero…these were people you could look up to.
Lori stopped on a building next to a dark ally to catch her breath.
Lash smiled in content, sniffing good-humouredly as she hung up the phone and returned it to it’s place before she headed off into a nearby alley to cut through the majority of the cities bulk and get herself back to bed quicker. She hadn’t heard from Das in a long time.
It was nice to hear a familiar voice. Even if at the news of her being in Washington had sent him into a protective role, asking her multiple questions about what she thought she was doing, and why of all reasons she had chosen to go there and at THIS time! When she mentioned William, the expected silent disapproval soon followed. He and William had never really gotten along.
*Oh well; that’s life!*
This was it! Leksi saw her go into a dark ally. He figured this was the best chance he was going to get. Leksi rushed forward and silently entered the dark ally behind her. He pulled out his handgun and pointed it straight to the back of her head.
“Zailash, don’t move a muscle.” Leksi said sternly.
Lash stopped in her path, arms held out to the side - hovering off her body - as she inclined her head slightly to try and see who was behind her. She undoubtedly could make it safely into the brick wall not one metre from her side, but for one reason or another, she chose to stay!
She grinned mischievously. “Can I move a hair?”
Leksi didn’t even grin. He held the gun steady and said, “At approximately noon yesterday afternoon, you stole a wallet from a man you met on the streets. I want it back.”
“Who says I have anything on me at all beneath this coat?”
“Uh…” Leksi stuttered for a second. This was odd…he was holding a gun to her head and she was close to flirting with him! “Give me the wallet now and I’ll let you go.” He ordered, getting his head back.
Despite all her exceedingly strong urges not to comply and hand the wallet back, Lash thought it best to just get this whole ordeal over and done with so she could get back to the hotel already.
Like magic, concealed from the aggressor’s eyes, the wallet solidly formed into her still held out hand. The wallet did, that is. Nothing at all about an ID or $400.
“Can I move any muscles now? It’s otherwise going to make this whole exercise of handing the wallet to you rather… well… flawed.”
“Fine.” Leksi said, “throw the wallet over to me, but that’s it! I don’t want to see you do anything else.”
On the rooftop next to the ally, Lori had finally caught her breath. When she got back home she would have to start exercising. For a superhero she was certainly in poor condition!
To her left, Lori heard voices. She crept over to the ledge and peered down. To her shock, she saw a man holding a gun and pointing it towards a woman who was clearly a Meta-human. The woman had purple and black skin, and a long tail. She was also holding a wallet in her hand.
*He’s mugging her* All she had seen in the past few days was hate towards Meta-Humans. She had stopped Meta’s from being attacked or killed many times, but now they were being mugged as well. Inwardly, she knew she was being slightly biased and the man probably would have mugged her even if she was a regular human, but her anger got the best of her. Lori hopped down from the roof towards the pair.
Lash shrugged indifferently and, with her hands still held clear of herself, turned slowly till she was side on to the man. She was ready to throw it over to him now, making sure she was ready in case he tried anything funny, but paused in the action of pulling in her arm. “It’s a real shame, you know…” A smirk was plain to see on her face, “This is top quality leather…. Feels nice inside the skin.”
With that, she Frisbee-d it towards him.
Leksi caught the wallet, keeping a careful eye on Zailash. He opened it up and looked inside. Sure enough, there was the mini-CD hidden away where it was supposed to be. The Meta hadn’t looked at it after all…or had she? She could have looked and then put it back. This was why Leksi had to finish the job…with her death. Quickly but without too much movement, Leksi aimed his gun and-
“Give her back the wallet!” A female voice said from behind him. Leksi spun around in surprise to see a black clad woman standing before him. Knowing very well that there could be no witnesses, Leksi turned around and pointed the gun and-
After her demand, Lori had looked down to see a gun in the thief’s hand. And a nice one too, not a weapon just anyone could get. Something was not quite right with this man, and using instinct, Lori created a shield just in time before the man fired his gun. The bullet hit the light-shield and ricocheted off and hit the wall on Lori’s left.
Lash listened to what was going on just behind her, smirking at the woman’s interference, “Yeah! Give me back my wallet, you big meanie!” She chuckled to herself then turned around just in time to see the man sweep his gun away from her and towards her ‘rescuer’!
*Hm. Planning on killing sweet little me, da?* Lash frowned at the force field that suddenly shot up as the guns fire rang off the alleyway walls. There was something familiar that Lash couldn’t quite put her finger on.
*Oh well! I’m not dead, like I could have been. This is a good thing!* “Thank you kindly…” Lash muttered as she took the distraction for a chance to slip into the nearby wall.
For a moment, Leksi was paralyzed with surprise. He had fired his gun…and a bright light had popped up out of nowhere and deflected it. It took him a few second to realize that the woman had created the light. Something about it seemed familiar to him as well…he had never seen it, but had he heard about it?
Leksi backed up and glanced behind him to get another shock; Zailash was gone! Cursing to himself, he continued to back away from the light-woman and spoke into this head microphone. “Mikolas,” he said into it, “target lost! Interference from an unknown meta.”
“Eliminate the unknown,” Mikolas, Leksi’s version of Deimos, said, “and then eliminate the target if you can still find her. If you can’t then get out of there Leksi.”
*She didn’t even say thank you!* Lori had seen the purple Meta jump into the wall. *Well I guess I know what her power is!* Lori heard the mugger speaking into his headphone and…his headphone? Once again, Lori was struck with the feeling that this wasn’t quite right. The mugger was too well equipped to be just a mugger, and that Meta…could have just been a regular Meta. But something about her gave Lori a feeling that she didn’t really know the whole story about this situation. And the woman had left without even a hint of grievance at losing her wallet, which Lori could have gotten back for her. But right now she had to worry about getting this gunman off the streets.
“Put down the gun,” Lori ordered, still keeping her shield up, “and put your hands up!”
Rather than comply, Leksi opted to fire his gun at a trashcan to Lori’s left. The bullet hit the rim knocking the top off. Lori diverted her eyes towards the trashcan for just a second, but that was enough time for Leksi. He ran forward, jumped, and pivoted off the wall with his feet. He landed on the opposite side of Lori and swung around for a kick, knocking her down. Then he aimed his gun once more.
But before he had a chance to fire it, Lori engendered a long staff, and moving to her side, she whipped it backwards with just enough force so that when it hit Leksi’s hand, it moved just enough so that the bullet when he did fire missed by a half-inch and harmlessly hit the ground.
Swiftly getting up, Lori swung the staff around her head and back at Leksi as though it was a whip. It connected with his head, and he gave a short gasp. His knees buckled slightly as she did and he was soon kneeling on the ground as Lori hit him again.
*Who is this bitch?* Leksi rolled out of the way of another staff attack and reached out. He grabbed Lori’s ankle and pulled her down with him. She dissolved the staff as she fell and created a flowing glove around her hand. When she came down, her arm shot out and she punched him right in the face. The extra power of the light glove connecting to his face broke his nose, and Leksi knew it was time to call it quits.
He grabbed a small ball from one of the compartments on his belt and hit it on the ground. When he did, the ball started spitting out smoke and made a smokescreen. He took a small gas mask out of another compartment and pulled it over his face, letting himself breathe.
*Where is he?* All of a sudden, smoke had come out of nowhere and she couldn’t see a thing. She knew increased light would help her, but it would also make her a perfect target. She chose instead to put a shield around herself, so at least if he fired at her it wouldn’t hit her.
Leksi had no intention of firing at Lori, however. He was too busy silently sneaking away near the other end of the ally. There he came to a road, mercilessly empty except for a homeless man too drunk to care about the ruckus he must have heard from the alleyway. In the middle of the road was a manhole. Mikolas had informed him of it earlier when Leksi let him know that he was planning to attack Zailash as she entered this alley. Leksi pulled off the top, took a quick peek over his shoulder to see if the woman had followed him. When he saw she hadn’t, he went down into the sewer and pulled the manhole covered over again.
When the smoke cleared, the “mugger” was gone. Depressed by her failure to catch him, and confused by the off feeling the situation gave her, Lori went back to her hotel and retired for the night.
***
Culexes walked into Daedalous’ office. With a sweep of his hand, Daedalous signaled Culexes to sit down, and he did. Culexes expected this meeting to be about further instructions concerning Lori Grant. It was. But the reason behind it was more surprising.
“Culexes…I regret to inform you that agent Leksi has failed at his most recent mission.” Culexes took a moment to absorb the information…it wasn’t every day that Leksi failed a mission. Culexes was the best, and Leksi knew it. This, combined with Leksi’s hatred of his “enhancements” had always created a lot of tension between the two, but Culexes respected him nonetheless.
“What happened?” Culexes asked.
“I had ordered Leksi to retrieve or destroy a missing mini-CD that had some valuable information on it. He was also to terminate the Meta-woman who had done this to him—she goes by the name of Zailash.” Daedalous leaned back in his chair and continued, “He managed to retrieve the CD, but he let Zailash get away in surprise—here.” He tossed the briefing of Zailash over to Culexes, who caught it.
After looking through it briefly, Culexes asked, “Do you want me to finish his mission?”
Daedalous shook his head. “No, there’s more. Leksi claims he didn’t kill Zailash because another Meta interfered. He said that it was a dark haired Caucasian woman… who could create light, and objects out of light.” Daedalous stopped and looked at Culexes, waiting for it to click.
“Lori Grant.” Culexes said almost instantly.
“Right. Obviously you know that Miss Grant was going to be terminated eventually…but now that she’s interfering in Scorpion operations, I think we’d better put her elimination higher up on our “to-do-list”, so to speak. I’m not going to send you out to kill her right away…we have to wait for the right time. Lori Grant is much too high profile to just kill. We’re going to wait this one out, and when I think we’ve found the right time…then I’ll send you out.”
“Understood.” Culexes responded.
“Good. You are dismissed.”
CROSSOVER SERIES ONE: NOVEMBER 16, 2003 TO MARCH 31, 2004
November 24th, 2003
12:00 PM
Lori Grant’s mansion
“Yes,” Janie Coroway said, “Lori’s arrived home safely. Yes, everything’s fine…let me ask her.” Janie took the phone away from her mouth and yelled, “Lori, when will you be coming back to work?” Then she covered the mouthpiece on the phone and waited. She looked around the house Lori was not it, and wondered if their ruse would actually work. Bonnie sat on a sofa near her, and tried her best not to giggle.
“She says that she’s going to take some personal time and go on vacation somewhere… no I can’t tell you where. Then you might call her and it wouldn’t be a vacation! No, no, she doesn’t want to be disturbed with anything…being her vice President, I would think you’d be able to take care of things for a little while! Unless of course you’d like me to tell her that you’re not capable of doing it… oh? All right then. No, please don’t call back soon. Lori will call you when she’s ready. Good-bye then.”
Janie gave hung up the phone and gave an exasperated sigh. Bonnie laughed and said, “Boy, that Lori sure can be a bitch.” The two looked at each other and then burst out laughing.
“Well,” Janie said, trying to calm herself down, “we don’t use language like that in this house…but I wonder if I was too harsh.”
“Oh who cares. Rich people are supposed to be ecstatic and do odd things like take a random vacation here and there.”
“I think you mean eccentric not ecstatic but I get your point.” Janie thought and said, “Let me call her.”
***
In a small, run-down motel in Washington DC, Lori Grant waited for a phone call. She was filled with anxiety. *This will never work, there’s no way* How could it? How could she expect to make everyone think she had gone home when she hadn’t?
She had paid off the right people for starters…like everyone on the private jet that was supposed to be carrying her. And the taxi driver that was supposed to bring her home from the airport. Not to mention her chauffeur and bodyguards (in the case of the body-guards, she told them that she was visiting a gentleman who she had a thing for…and why shouldn’t they believe her? Someone as rich as her could have any man she wanted. It was probably some movie star she had met and was now shacking up with).
She needed to make everyone think she had gone home so that she could be free to be Spectrum. She couldn’t use her powers freely without the threat of people making the connection between Spectrum and her… but if everyone thought Lori was at home, and Spectrum was here, then hopefully nobody would.
Hopefully.
Lori’s cell phone rang and she jumped at the sound of the ring-tone. “Mamma Mia” by ABBA. What a geek was she?
“Hello?” Lori answered in a pleading voice.
“Well I called them,” Janie said from the other side, “and I think things went well. I didn’t tell them you were visiting a guy though…if they press the issue I guess I’ll tell them that.”
“You’re a lifesaver Janie.” And this was true enough.
“Yeah…well let’s just pray this works.”
“How’s Bonnie?” Lori asked. She wished she could be home so they could connect more…Bonita was closer to Janie then her, and you didn’t need to be a crime-solver to know that.
“She’s…bored. She doesn’t have much to do here…maybe I’ll buy her a gamecube…”
“Use my credit card.” Lori offered.
“…obviously.” Janie answered, and Lori wondered how many liberties Janie was taking while in Lori’s house.
“Okay, well say hi to her for me. I’ve got to get going now.”
“Okey-doke…hey Lors, I forget to mention. A meta-girl came by here the other day.”
“…who was it?” Lori asked, truly intrigued.
“Oh…what was her name…I can’t remember. She came just a few hours after she left. She was purple with a tail and she looked like a cat. Do you know her?”
“No I--” Lori stopped. Hadn’t she seen a woman who looked like that recently? The woman who had been mugged by that gun-guy fit the description…this was getting weird. “No I don’t know her.”
“Oh, well she’ll probably come back again when you get home.”
“Yeah probably…talk to you later Jane.” Lori hung up her phone and thought. Was it a coincidence that this girl who visited her and the woman she saved sounded similar, and were possibly the same person? Or was it planned? Was Lori supposed to walk in on that mugging?
Lori turned off the light next to the cheap bed and lay down to rest. Through the thin motel wall, she could hear the moans and the creak of the bed, as two people made love. She silently wished to be back in her suite, and closed her eyes to sleep…but all she could think about was the purple cat girl.
CROSSOVER SERIES ONE: NOVEMBER 16, 2003 TO MARCH 31, 2004
November 27th, 2004
5:30 AM
The Washington Memorial
With the dawn’s early light they came. The first few were organized, orchestrated even the set up their placards and stayed as the first few tourists came, took their pictures and left. The ones who stayed were those who had watched the news reports two days ago with horror. A horror that was compounded by the litany of hate concealed behind measure words in the commentary that came after.
So the word had gone out on the ‘net and they gathered here. At the memorial to the father of the nation, they read his words engraved in stone and looked out at the Washington memorial stark against the cold blue sky they gathered round the still waters of the pool and spoke in low tones of their fears.
As the morning wore on the first few trickles grew to a stream and by lunchtime after the news reports had gone out the stream become a flood and as the media took notice at this quiet slow protest so did the authorities. At first the police in their blue came and then severe men in dark suits, with sunglasses over their eyes and beige coils of wire leading to their ears.
Some few saw these guardians and paused, even turned back their horror not yet strong enough to challenge the established order. Others saw them and nodded, their fears confirmed and they went on, believing the worst. Most however saw these quiet men and women and were comforted seeing them as much protection against that hate as anything else.
Lori for one was glad that the officers were here. They helped to calm her nerves and reassure her. She was nervous about several things. The obvious one would be that somebody would attack this protest like they had attacked the anti-meta one. Another fear of her’s was that somebody would figure out that Lori Grant was not back in Crystal City, and they would make the connection. However, if an attack did occur, she felt it was her duty to protect these people, even if she was risking revealing her identity.
Lash smiled broadly as she stepped up the massing crowd. This would be very interesting indeed. Meta’s and people alike, coming together in some beautiful union! She cracked a laugh. This was going to turn ugly soon enough, and everyone knew it too. Still! It wasn’t often that she got to enjoy such a novelty of walking straight through a crowd without being taunted for her appearance and obvious mutation. Plus she just loved to see the looks on people’s faces as she glided her way up to them and asked for the time.
“Mutant freedom, hoorah!” She winked at one of the university students before wandering off, chuckling with amusement.
The microphone appeared shortly after lunch no one said where it came from. There were no official speakers just citizens voicing their disapproval, the few articulating the fears of the many. That hate and fear of the ‘other’ would lead their nation to destruction. The speakers did not the deny the pain caused two days ago, they voiced their regret that those deaths had occurred but spoke quietly that this change must be embraced. That to give in to fear, to lash out in anger at metahumans was to attack everything that made America great.
Jake Corber grimaced as he heard the current speaker mouth platitudes about this great country. What was great about a country that raped the earth, a country that denied the destruction it wrought? A country that spewed poisons into the air every second of its existence. He checked his weapon - an odd looking pistol and looked around at his companions. The exchanged grim looks and quick tight smiles and stepped out of the car. Three men and one woman who knew the true cost of this ‘Great Country’ and intended to extract a measure of the cost in blood and pain today.
The incandescent beam of light struck the current speaker full in the chest. Blood and viscera burst outward under the awful energies of that beam and the man’s howls were lost in the amplified screech as the particle beam set up wildly fluctuating currents in the P.A. system.
Jake calmly lowered his weapon and started firing into the crowd, and each time that dreadful beam touched flesh new howls of pain rose above the din. Initial the other three members of his team fired on the police and Secret Service. Their own energy weapons cutting through bullet proof vests, and car doors. It was a matter of moments before the four Earthrage terrorists had the crowd at their mercy and now four brilliant beams tore into it.
Lori saw a flash and felt dread spreading over her body. At first she thought maybe it was a camera flash but that notion soon disappeared when she heard the screams and saw the speaker collapse on stage, obviously dead with liquids pouring out of it to prove it. Then more flash’s came, and more screams to follow.
Lori spun around to try and locate the attacks and see whatever weapons they were using. She couldn’t see through the crowd (many of which were meta humans, and the panic had set off some sort of reaction in some and their powers were going haywire, making it not only more dangerous but much harder to locate anyone), but she saw that the flashes were coming from the back of the group. Taking to the air, but careful not to make herself too obvious, Lori looked and saw 4 men, each with an odd gun shooting off bright beams at the protestors.
Lash spun about wide eyed toward the back of the crowd to the source of the beams, then cursed diligently to herself in a dignified manner as she noted the extreme unfortune of her situation. If Dashkon ever found out that she’d come to this protest, he’d have her tail for it! Frankly Lash couldn’t care at the present moment. So long as she got to keep her tail, not to mention her life through this: she’d be happy!
Her survival instincts kicked in again and automatically had her searching for an escape…. *There!* A reasonable gap was presented leading straight off to a nearby building. She only had to reach it to survive. Simple!
Suddenly she stopped…. What about those of her kind that couldn’t save themselves? *Hoorah for mutant freedom, indeed.* She hissed and turned her attentions back to the hostilities, her baleful glare locking with on of the gunners. She only had a split second for realization to dawn on her, eyes widening as time seemed to slow….
“Down!” Lori shouted, pulling a nearby human to the ground. The man fell with a gasp as a brilliant beam narrowly missed the two of them. Without so much as a “your welcome”, Lori was up again. She progressed towards the attacks slowly, pushing the helpless protesters out of the way of beams.
As she neared, she looked to her left and saw that one of the gunmen was aiming for a familiar purple meta-human. It was the woman from the alleyway days before! The one who had disappeared so suddenly! Lori started to go towards her, but a scream from her right pulled her in the other direction.
“OoblyoodAk!” Lash cursed, sharp reflexes her only savior from the brilliant beam that sliced through her former position, striking and disintegrating the poor being that had been behind her.
Now she was distressed. She couldn’t understand how others could take live so easily on a mere whim! A life was the most sentimental thing you could find… and these people just took it because they felt like it.
*Shows over you self righteous, anal bastards!* She thought purposely, swiftly ducking into the inanimate, concreted ground beneath her and gliding through its fabrics….
Lori watched as a police officer was brutally shot down, his body dismantled. The officers were in just as much disarray as the protesters were—some were trying to fight the gunmen, others were trying to stop the panic, and others yet were simply running away.
Lori flew toward the gunman who had done the deed. It was a woman who looked to be 30 something. She looked at what she had done with a mixture of glee and regret; a cross between contentment and terror. She lifted up her gun again before turning to see Lori coming at her. She gasped and dropped her gun in panic. Lori created a ball of light around her fist and landed a punch on the woman’s face, knocking her out cold with one punch.
It was the most liberating feeling! Finally, the mutant creeps were getting what they deserved. Freaks. They shouldn’t be here, they didn’t belong. They were infecting their world!
The man blasted off another shot, then another, and another. A flicker of motion caught his eye as he spotted one of his own getting knocked out by one of the scum! “Stupid bitch. You’ll pay hell for tha-AH!” He jumped at the looming, cat like creature that suddenly popped up out of nowhere, smiling at him.
“Hi!” She greeted tightly. The man pulled his blaster around on instinct, squeezing the trigger and….
And…
He frowned in frustration. Where was his blasting hell of glory? He angrily looked up to the still smiling, purple spotted gray freak before him whose arm seemed to be literally… coming out of his blaster!
Lash grinned. “Yes, that would be my hand that’s disarmed your weapon. And this palm,” She thrust the butt of her hand hard up into his chin. “Is what’s disarmed you!” Lash watched the man as he crumpled unceremoniously to the ground, retrieving the strange gun off him as he fell and turned her interests towards her next target, which coincidentally enough had turned their interests to her!
Lori looked at the woman lying on the ground, wondering what could have possessed her and the
others to do this. As she did, the hairs on the back of her neck pricked up, as if they felt something close. Lori started to tilt her head to look, but a voice interjected, saying “Don’t move, or I’ll shoot.”
Of course, Jake Corber planned to shoot anyway, but this seemed more dramatic didn’t it? This woman…this Meta… had just taken out one of his partners, so now he would take out her.
But soon he realized he made a very silly mistake. Without the deadly beams threatening to mutilate them, the protesting Meta’s had little to stop them from attacking back, especially once they had seen two Meta’s like themselves just take out two of the gunmen.
Jake felt a chill on his legs. When he glanced down, he stared stunned at the sight of his legs frozen in a block of ice. He looked and saw a pretty, teenage girl with white skin had done it to him. Then he looked a little to the right of the girl and saw a much bigger Meta, with blades on his arms, ready to swing.
Lori heard the scream and the sound of cutting, and when she turned around the sight of a headless man, frozen to the ground, greeted her. A young girl stood by, looking scared and happy at the same time, while another, much scarier looking Meta called the others to attack with him.
“Wait,” Lori shouted, trying to avoid more violence, “ please wait…” but her voice was drowned out over the sounds of angry cries and gunfire. He looked over and saw that there was only one gunman left. Their eyes met momentarily and she saw a look of despair in his eyes.
He didn’t have a chance to survive this, and they both knew it.
Both Lash and her gunman’s attention snapped to the fatal scream. With yet another, far more chilling strain run down her spine, Lash deftly added ‘fatal screams’ to the list of things she couldn’t stand, then scanned over the raging crowd now joining in. She glanced back at the gunman who’s attention had now turned elsewhere, scared shitless, she was sure, and blasting off random shots into the enclosing crowd in vain attempt to survive his inevitability.
They’d won! They were going to stop them, every single one… and yet….
Lash’s stomach twisted in a sickly manner, her feelings conflicting with her morals. One final thought of frustration decided her next move as she decidedly slid into the concreted ground, again.
The gunman’s body violently shook all over as his wide eyed gaze fell on a looming ball of orange energy licking up the air about it, emitting a deadly black sulfuric gas off its surface. And it was meant for him. Everything suddenly seemed to slow, or mix together in a swirling mass of bafflement, frankly he couldn’t quite tell as the earth beneath him suddenly seemed to give way. He was sinking! Melting! Christ, someone help him! The world passed by in a blur and before he knew it… he felt like he was flying! But… he had no body. The ground seemed to groan beneath the mass of bewildered protestors.
*Am I dead?*
Suddenly he was flying again… only this time literally, and his body was back! His body was back and-
‘CRUNCH’
The man crumple off the solid wall he’d just soared into and surrounding officials were quick to act, swarming in on the unconscious man.
Lori hadn’t been able to see exactly what happened, but moments later she saw the police swarming around a live body that looked suspiciously like the gunman. How had he been saved? The Metas in the crowd seemed to be just as confused…and slowly the crowd started tapering off. The officers decided on letting them go…they didn’t want another riot.
Lori lifted off of the ground slightly and hovered backwards away from the scene. She headed for a nearby alleyway, where she wouldn’t be seen. It was still possible that she could be spotted and seen as ‘Lori Grant’, and she didn’t want that to happen.
Just before she got into the alley she saw the purple cat girl again, also sneaking away from the area. *Who is that?* This was the second time she had seen the girl, but maybe the third time if you counted what Janie had said. Was this the girl who had visited her mansion in Crystal City? And Lori knew she had the power to move into objects…could she move others as well? Has she saved the gunman? Too exhausted to follow the girl to get those question answered, Lori turned around and continued into the alley.
Lash shook her head ruefully, her tail swishing madly behind her with irritation as she glided down the footpath, as far away from the scene as she could get, quickly and quietly. She had had to intervene. Meta’s were wondering why they were getting such a bad name. It didn’t matter that the others had initiated the attack: Humans were too pig faced and stubborn to see their own faults.
A brief glance at the sky presented a familiar sight. The woman, from the alley the other night, and also just before, Lash swore she saw her playing with the light and knocking out that female gunman. Shaking her head at the idiocy of the gunmen again, Lash thought back to where else she’d remembered this woman from, besides Washington. She knew she’d seen her before….
After a moment, it finally hit her: Crystal City. It was Spectrum, she was sure of it.
***
“I think the time to get Lori Grant out of the picture has finally come.” Daedalous told the man sitting across from him; Agent Culexes. His office once again had the TV monitor in it, but instead of showing Lori Grant’s hotel room, it now showed news footage of the Pro-Meta attack. What the two men were looking at specifically was a woman using light-based attacks to fight off the gunmen. “It seems that Miss Grant has not left Washington after all.”
“Do you know where she can be found?” asked Culexes.
Daedalous frowned, and then said, “Not yet actually. But we may not need to know where she’s staying. I doubt it was a coincidence that Grant appeared at this protest today. ‘Spectrum’ is a super-hero, or is at least supposed to be. Grant knows that these protests are hot-beds of criminal activity, especially the big ones.”
“So, if we can pinpoint where the next big protest will be, there’s a good chance we’ll find Grant there.” Culexes finished.
“Right,” Daedalous smiled. “And our sources tell us that there will be a very big protest happening in just two days, on the 29th…”
CROSSOVER SERIES ONE: NOVEMBER 16, 2003 TO MARCH 31, 2004
Saturday, 29th November 2003 – 3:32pm
Mel hung up the phone and took a deep breath. Sara had just called. Observer had finally cracked Earthrage’s codes and had discovered where they intended to launch the attack from. Pale faced and shaking Mel glanced round the room taking in Ela’s presence in the doorway. Her eyes alighted on her cell phone and Mel grimaced for a half second. She’d need allies, which meant despite how much she disliked the idea, contacting Sydney and Soleil. Walking over to the phone she picked it up and scrolled through the contact numbers.
"What was that all about?" Ela asked, her curiosity burning. She'd overhead enough of Mel's half of the conversation to know something big was going on, just not quite what.
Mel’s thumb hovered over the dial button as she turned to look at Ela. Taking in the bruise still visible on Ela’s cheek Mel decided that it was probably best if Ela wasn’t involved in this little event. It was going to be dangerous and Ela had no way of protecting herself.
“Sara wanted to talk about the whole publicity thing. They want to do a couple of photos.” Mel looked down at her phone and put it away. “I need to get changed.”
Ela frowned. That explanation didn't gel with what she'd overheard. You didn't exclaim 'Oh my god!' in such a horrified tone at something so mundane. Her eyes narrowed as she noticed Mel hiding the phone.
"No, I don't think so. What's up, Mel? What, you think you can't trust me?" She crossed her arms resolutely, feeling somewhat like a petulant child but not caring. She had the feeling Mel had been leaving her out of something recently and she didn't like it one bit. "Tell me," she demanded.
Mel raised an eyebrow; this was pretty much the first time Mel had heard Ela use that sort of tone on anyone, let alone her. “It’s just a photo shoot. I was just surprised they’re moving this fast.” Mel moved to her room. She did need to get changed, her current outfit wasn’t going to suit a firefight and she was under no illusions as to what was about to come. Closing the door behind her Mel hit dial on her phone while looking over the clothes she'd brought to Washington.
Standing outside Mel's door, Ela fought back the urge to cry with frustration. Something was going on, and she didn't know why Mel was trying to keep her out of it. Overcoming her natural sense of propriety, she pressed her ear to the door, knowing Mel was going to make that call...
Several minutes later, when Mel emerged from the room, Ela had taken up position in the middle of the living area, her face a mask of betrayal. Mel had kept her voice low, and there was a door between them, but Ela still had heard enough to know that Mel, Sol and Sydney were going to be heading off to stop some major terrorist plot.
Eyeing Mel up and down, Ela remarked acerbically, "I guess they want photos of you slumming it, then?"
Ela’s face told Mel the whole story. The tension and pain in Ela’s body language spoke volumes but despite all of that Mel was determined to continue this charade. She was not going to take Ela into battle – she was especially not going to take the risk of watching a Bakarran energy blast snuff out her friend’s life.
* So why not tell her your reasons for not taking her along?*
Mel took a breath and shook her head slightly. She wasn’t going to argue with her symbiote over this. She’d made a decision. Both Sym and Ela would have to accept that.
“They have wardrobe and make-up at the shoot. There’s no need for me to get dressed up.”
Ela felt it go. It had gone once or twice before, but only with her family. Around other people she'd always kept herself under control, and it really was very hard to get her to lose it. But now it went. Ela felt the fire of righteous anger flare up in her and she let it burst forth.
"Mel, don't lie to me! I could hear you on the phone in there. You and Sol and Sydney are off to save the world, but you don't want little Ela trailing along after you, do you? Oh, no, heaven forbid that I could actually do something useful like save your stupid life or anything!!"
“Ok, yes I’m off to save the world. I’m off to prevent a mad woman from killing sixty thousand people with a chemical they banned in the fifties. I’m off to stop an alien agent from tainting pro-meta politics for the next six months. And no, I’m not taking you along. I have to do this and I have the powers to actually survive this, as does Soleil. Sydney is a trained assassin and I’m sure this little firefight we’re about to get involved in won’t stress her unduly. You, on the other hand, are a healer. Unfortunately if the weapons we’re facing manage to hit us we won’t need a healer. We’ll need an undertaker. In this situation you have nothing to offer and everything to lose. So I will not accept you taking that risk.”
Mel turned to the door of the suite. “And Ela? I’m so glad you can respect my privacy…”
Tears stung the corners of Ela's eyes and she wiped at them furiously. "Well if you'd just told me what was going on instead of sneaking around behind my back I wouldn't have had to eavesdrop, would I?" She took a deep, shaking breath and tried to calm herself. "Mel, please don't leave me out. I want to go. I can stay on the sidelines and come in only if one of you is hurt. I promise..." She saw Mel's hard expression and faltered. "You can't leave me behind, you can't!"
“Maybe I was trying to avoid a painful conversation. I can leave you behind, Ela, and on this one I am.”
Mel walked calmly to the door of the suite then stopped. “I’m coming back Ela,” she said softly before opening the door and leaving.
She hurried to the lift jabbing at the button as it didn’t arrive quite fast enough. When the doors finally opened Mel practically hurled herself in and beat her fist against the back wall. That momentary display of anger over, Mel turned to face the doors and focused on presenting a calm and controlled demeanour. She didn’t need anybody seeing how much what she’d just done had hurt.